Becoming a Founding "Father"- Historical Hamilton

Chapter Twelve: The Corsican's

*The french is done through a translator, so the French bits can be a bit choppy.

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I wasn't even surprised when Alexander wasn't the one who told me that he literally co-founded this whole thing.

"It had slipped my mind, Solomon," he whispered when I quietly asked him about it. I roll my eyes, keeping quiet, so that the other people in the room wouldn't hear us.

"How goddamn convenient was that, don't you think?" I reply, and Alexander sends a sharp glare my way. 

"Language," he hissed. "I am sorry not informing you sooner, but I do not apologise for my efforts."

"I know you don't," I whisper back, going back into the crowd. Alexander briefly smiles at me before resuming his debate of 'appropriate firearms', while I go back to Nathaniel Vaughan- the only other person I know by name.

"So, how did you wind up here?" I ask the brown-haired man from behind, scaring him. I laugh as he flinches. 

"Layden, do not scare me so!" He exclaims, and my smile becomes strained from the name. "And 'tis a boring and long story, I shall not bore you with such."

My smile turns into a smirk, looking at the main hosts of this event- they're still busy. "I'm sure we've got time."

"Quite a peculiar man you are, sir." Vaughan comments. "Alright, I suppose. I was a proud citizen of Britain once-my whole family were. Even as we heard whispers of patriots and a rebellion, we remained loyal to the crown- there was no reason to not do so. And yet, as the taxes increased, my father's faith wavered- he thought that Britain used us as if we be a money bank."

"Do you not hold such beliefs?" I interrupt, curious. He raises his eyebrow.

"Not in those days, I didn't. I had no concept of money, it had all fallen on my father's shoulders," he sighed, as if remembering a bad memory. "He went to Boston for business, and- this is all heresay- he got tangled into what is known as the Boston massacre. All I truly know is that he came home as a cripple."

Thank god he didn't die was the first thing that I thought. Death is how almost all of these stories end, so I'm glad. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"'Tis not your fault, but that of the British," he sneered, as if smelling something foul. "I wished to avenge my father since then, and when Hamilton came, searching for volunteers, that was my chance."

"Hmm," I nod at his logic. A moment of silence. "May I ask how you wound up here, sir?" 

"Well, it's not as honorable as your story. Al-Hamilton had asked me to join, and I agreed after a while."

"Is it safe to assume that he had convinced you to join the patriot side?"

I laugh. "No, actually, I was the one that swayed him."

A shocked laugh bursts out of him. "Do you jest, sir?"

I shake my head, smiling, ignoring the weird stares both of us got. "You should have seen him! King George, I love you with all of my heart, please take my future newborn child!" I say the last sentence in a shrill and high-pitched voice, that sounded more like a girl rather than Alexander. I tensed slightly, but Vaughan laughed loudly at that, too.

"Oh my, Layden, you have such a unique sense of humor!" I'm not sure if that was an insult or a compliment, so I smile, which, from what I understand, is an appropriate reaction to anything in these days. 

"But the artillery was- uh, Hamilton's idea. I didn't even know about it until a few days ago." Vaughan hummed. "I was against it at first, but here I am, and I don't regret it." I can't regret it if I can follow Alexander.