My Dearest, [ Alexander Hamilton | Reader ]

• Chapter Four •

...

[ Your Name] could do nothing but, watch. Alexander could not be talked into reason, he was a stubborn man. She simply watched him, fiddling with her delicate hands. It was worth a shot.

"Is this really what you want, Alexander? To go and possibly die?"

"Of course, I'd die in glory, I will have made a name for myself."

"Alexander, please! Rethink this, you're a skilled writer perhaps attempt to publish a book."

"You wouldn't understand."

She looked to Alexander, a pained expression showing on her once smiling face. She excused herself to the bedroom, she knew what she'd do. It was unlawful, she'd very well be imprisoned if caught.

For Alexander.

She'd disguise herself as a man, she'd cut her locks, bandage her bosom and dress in Alexander's clothes. She'd wait until Alexander had departed to where he was due.

Of course, it'd be a tedious wait as she had yet to write to "General Washington" as Alexander referred to him in his letters. She looked to the horizon, there was a glimpse of warm colors indicating the sun was to rise.

She looked from the bedroom door, Alexander's presence was no longer felt. He'd left without a word, she caught a glimpse outside onto the streets, there were only a few people, none of which resembled Alexander.

She entered his study, besides blank papers stacked, neatly in the right-hand corner of the desk, it was if it had gone untouched for months. She set herself down on the cushioned chair, finding a quill along with the ink. She got herself a paper and began writing.

General Washington,

I, Jeremiah Young, wish to serve in this revolution against Britain. The king's act of tyranny should go on no more, it would be an honor to fight alongside you and many other soldiers for a new beginning without monarchy. I look forward to receiving a letter of confirmation if you'd have me.

Jeremiah Young

...

It had been four days, there was no sign of a letter. She was a worrying mess, she'd go on at ungodly hours pacing the floorboards fearing the worse for Alexander. She looked out the window, it was mid-afternoon. The sun's bright yellow rays of light were fading, a faded moon could be seen in the distance.

The mail-carrier had passed by earlier but, she'd not bothered checking. Her hopes were low but, it was worth a check. She opened the box, the rusting flap squeaking as she did.

There is was a sealed letter. She quickly walked inside tearing the seal, gently. She sat on the cushioned seat, examining the letter. As she hoped, it was from the general, he'd accepted her into the revolution.

[Your Name] walked to Alexander's bedroom, rummaging through his wooden dresser. She felt a cold object, she'd found what she needed. The object was a pair of rusting iron scissors, they were dulling but, it would work.

She felt her [Hair color] locks, her hands shaking as she held the scissors. She breathed as began snipping to a collarbone length, she tied it with a ribbon. She recalled her father putting it up in such manner.

She began disrobing herself, she traced her fingers along her body, feeling the lines of her corset indented slightly into her skin, it would fade as time passed. She bound the cotton bandage concealing her breast, the cotton was gentle compared to the metal wires that maintain the corsets form.

She found herself searching through Alexander's dresser once more, the clothes consisted of rather warm colors. She discovered a fitting ruffled white shirt along with a cream colored waistcoat. She found similarly colored breeches.

She reviewed the letter once more, her eyes steady to the horizon, face aglow with the final rays of orange lights before twilight beckoned the stars. Her lips bared the semblance of a smile, she'd be at Alexander's side.

She scanned herself once more placing a cravat loosely around her neck, she quickly departed to where she assumed both the general and Alexander would be located. She anxiously looked as she walked the streets, no longer a young woman but, as Jeremiah Young.

...
It was a tiresome walk, the orange rays of sunlight had vanished leaving the glimmering twilight. She'd finally arrived, tents were scattered far and wide each was resembled a lantern, glowing dimly in the night. She walked, slightly hunched over as she felt eyes watching her as she entered the camp.

[Your Name] made her way to a large tent after asking many to guide her, she quietly entered the tent finding herself scanning the room meeting eyes with an older man, presumably the general. She regained her posture.

"Good evening, sir, I received a letter of requirement, I'd like to thank you for allowing me to  serve for this country."

"Jeremiah Young, I assume?"

She nodded.

"You're assigned to be with Marquis de Lafayette and Alexander Hamilton, you're dismissed."

...