My Dearest, [ Alexander Hamilton | Reader ]

• Chapter Seventeen •

[Child birth?? Slight mention of religion, I do sincerely apologize if you go against such beliefs. I'm doing the best I can to make this story as accurate as possible with the sources I have. This fact is known: Alexander Hamilton whilst in his younger years, was religious though it died down in his middle years. Currently the time is 1788. The reader's age began at 20 and has now moved to 30. Alexander would be 31-33 depending on what year you believe him to be born on. ]

...

Screams of agony filled every corner of the room. It was an indescribable pain, worse than a bullet wound. It repeatedly pulsated, the room seemed to spin with every wave of pain. Her sweating hands were held by the two mid-wives who were kind enough to attend and assist. Their expressions full of empathy as they watch it all unfold. Tears, along with sweat streamed down her face.

There would be that dreadful pain which caused her to hunch forward however, she was held back by strong hands. They were not of her husband's but instead those of one of the women's husband. Alexander, as much as he wished to be inside, was to be left with Philip.

The agony had gone for hours, to think it had started the day prior as only a peculiar stomach pain. Without Alexander's persistence, she'd have the child alone, with no support other than him. He who had no experience in child-birth. It was that imagery that kept her from wishing death, frightened by a mere stomach pain.

[Your Name]'s thoughts were interrupted another strike of pain. She jolted forward, large hands pulling back. Her foot slipped from the chair's bottom beam, one of the midwives returned it to the original position. The jolt was much stronger than any of the previous one. She felt anxiety build as she let her mind linger on that. There couldn't possibly by complications. No. The medic that kneeled before her had not expressed concerns. If it was as she thought, he would have told.

More hours passed, the labor had not yet been done. The pain progressed to where it was consistent and unresting. She had left to a fragile state, the room seemingly spinning around her. The only thing keeping her from going to the grasp of sleep was the pain, it was torturous. She'd feel her mind drift but, get pulled back into reality. It was almost taunting.

Her dainty hands squeezed the others tightly as yet another one of those pains occurred. Another scream escaped from her lips. As soon as she knew it, a child was held in her weak arms wrapped in a cotton cloth. Although there still was pain, it seemed to disappear at the sigh of the child. The weeping child who she so badly wanted to comfort.

Alexander, along with Philip were seen rushing inside the room. Philip held onto his father's long coat, sun-kissed face full of curiosity. She weakly smiled at the pair, Philip growing closer to see the newborn. There was an uneasy expression causing a feeble chuckle to escape her lips as she managed to calm the infant.

"What's wrong, Philip?"

Philip gave no reply continuing to intently stare at the newborn who gave mocked the curious look the boy held earlier. Alexander moved close to them, pressing his lips against her still tear-stained cheeks. He held the same proud expression he did when first meeting Philip.

"He takes much from you."

"She, Alexander."

"Oh, do pardon me, little mademoiselle!"

He placed a finger near her hand to which she held onto. His lips turned upwards as he glanced back to his beloved wife, the smile progressing to a grin.

"I think we've made amends now, peace can now continue among us."

"For now, we can declare peace."

"Have you decided on a name?"

"Upon the conformation of the pregnancy... Yes, I did think of one, Angelica. The lord decided on such an event to take place, she was a message granted to us by him. An angel sent down."

"I enjoy it, I'm sure Angelica is pleased with such a thoughtful name."

"I hope so."

...

The creaking of the wood filled the house, along with the pitter-patter of tiny feet running. There she was, kneeling on the grass. The gown she wore was surely now stained with the green of her garden, it mattered little to her. Only a few seconds were taken of deliberation before she found herself in midst of the beauty of her garden. The garden made with her very own hands.

The footsteps grew closer, now a much softer noise was made as they squished the grass beneath them. There were tears and sobs heard, that would only mean one thing; a thing she dealt with daily. She prayed her gaze away from the flowers of many hues, her delicate fingers brushing against the pastel colors with such fragility that had become a habit.

She was met with the two children running to her, she prepared herself with the confrontation. Angelica's cheeks seemed to be stained with tears, Philip looking rather panicked as he ran after her. She was slightly taken aback as the youngest of the two wrapped her small arms around her neck, burrowing on the nook. She raised brows glancing at Philip.

"What happened?"

"Ma, I can explain!"

More footsteps seemed to come towards her, much lighter and less stable. She caressed her daughter's head as she looked beyond Philip, finding the second youngest walking toward the group, Alexander, Jr. Only two years of age. She gave a look of sympathy knowing he'd been left behind while the two ran. Once at her side, she placed her other arm around his tiny body.

"Then explain."

Well—"

Philip was soon interrupted by Angelica who had finally moved passed tears to talk, though she had the occasional hitch of her small voice. She lifted her head, turning back to her older brother. Her eyes slightly narrowed before turning back to her.

"He said my dress was—"

"No, I didn't!"

"Don't interrupt me Philip, it's very rude! He said my dress was hideous. That's not true, right?"

"No, no, you look very lovely in that dress. Philip, apologize to your sister."

There was a muttering from his side, his lips in a pout as he returned the glare his sister gave him. She made it out as a very soft, "I was only being honest". She gave a displeased frown as her gaze became much more stern, followed with her tone.

"Philip Hamilton, I would like to not have to repeat myself."

"Fine! I apologize for insulting you!"

[Your Name] sighed as Philip stomped off, retreating for his usual hideout. His temperament was like his fathers perhaps, far too much. Such things were to be expected though, out of school he'd always go to his father's study and spend quite sometime until he'd get taken out.

She stood from the ground, lifting Alexander, Jr. and taking Angelica's tiny hand. She gave a small smile while peering at her children. The garden would wait, it had always been the children that would go first. Even before herself. Sadly, it seemed to be a different case with Alexander.

...