Corset in Congress (A Hamilton Genderbend)

Chapter Eighteen: Guns and Ships

Burr's POV

I'm standing on a mound of dirt in a field of dirt, shouting to a group of dirty soldiers, trying to ignore the dirt smeared on my face. I've been appointed the unofficial morale officer, and I'm actually doing my job, unlike some slackers up in this carnage.

"How does a ragtag volunteer army in need of a shower," I yell, and there are hoots and cheers coming from the men, "somehow defeat a global superpower? How do we emerge victorious from the quagmire, leave the battlefield waving Betsy Ross's flag higher?

"Yo! Turns out we have a secret weapon!" More cheers, and a few insults thrown around jokingly. "An immigrant you know and love who's not afraid to step in! He's constantly confusing, confounding the British henchmen!" And me, with a really long, complicated introduction. "Everybody give it up for America's favourite fighting Frenchman!"

The whole group joins in, knowing exactly who I'm referring to. "LAFAYETTE!"

Said Frenchman finally makes his entrance, leaping around like a frog, making the company of tired, sweaty soldiers holler and laugh at his crazy antics. "I'm taking this horse by the reigns, making these Redcoats redder with bloodstains!"

"LAFAYETTE!" roar the men.

"And I'm never gonna stop until I make 'em drop and burn 'em up and scatter the remains! I'm--" He doesn't stop for breath, just keeps spouting out the words, getting faster and faster with every phrase.

From somewhere in the crowd, a single voice is heard, faintly calling, "You go, Laffy!" and is accompanied with catcalls, whistles, and jostles.

"LAFAYETTE!"

He jumps onto the mound, and I get out of the general vicinity as quickly as possible. "Watch me engaging 'em! Escaping 'em! Enraging 'em! I'M--" he trails off, and the mob eagerly completes the sentence for him.

"LAFAYETTE!"

A marvelous smile spreads across his face. Truly the man is a gift from heaven. He's a one-man battering ram, down-to-earth, and a great drinking partner. He shouts, "I go to France for more funds!"

"LAFAYETTE!"

"I come back with more guns," he thrusts his firearm into the sky, and the entire group, myself included, follow his lead, "and ships! And so the balance shifts!"

Whoops and deafening noise erupts, but the mood of the scene shifts when the General appears, but instead of breaking up the mob, he contributes a line of his own, prompting his own echo of assent. "We rendezvous with Rochambeau, consolidate their gifts!"

Lafayette approaches the General, and, speaking in his normal voice, informs him, "We can end this war at Yorktown, cut them off at sea, but," he stops for a moment, ceasing his wild gestures in a moment of respect, "for this to succeed, there is someone else we need:"

Resignedly, Washington says, "I know."

The soldiers, who were pretending not to listen to the conversation but totally were anyways, turn and shout the next part with the General, almost knocking the man off his feet. "HAMILTON!"

French accent growing ever thicker with every passing word, Lafayette explains himself. "Sir, she knows what to do in a trench! Ingenuitive and fluent in French, I mean--" 

"HAMILTON!"

"Sir, you're gonna have to use her eventually," he says, and everyone there knows it, even though it pains some of us to admit it. "What's she gonna do on the bench," I don't know, maybe not die? I know it's necessary, but still! It's dangerous! "I mean--"

"HAMILTON!"

"No one else has more resilience or matches my practical, tactical brilliance!" Well, that's true. 

"HAMILTON!"

Lafayette addresses the army. "You want to fight for your land back?" he shouts, question hanging in the air, to be answered by a wave of sound, indecipherable. I decide to take it as an affirmative.

"I need my right hand back!" says Washington, not giving in to the chaos around him.

And as the crowd chants Alexandra Hamilton's name, Lafayette continues to advise the General, speaking faster than I could have thought possible. "Get your right-hand man back! You know you gotta get your right-hand man back! I mean, you've got to put some thought into the letter, but the sooner the better to get your right-hand man back!"

I watch through the window as Washington composes his letter to Alexandra. I know it doesn't matter how her words it, she'll come anyways, and I have no doubt in my mind that he knows it too. Still, he takes the time to write out a full request, one that I only catch glimpses of through the panes.

Alexandra Hamilton, the letter reads, Troops are waiting in the world for you. If you join us right now, together we can turn the tide! 

Alexandra Hamilton, I have soldiers that will yield for you, it says. If we manage to get this right, they'll surrender by early light.

The world will never be the same, Alexandra... 

Isn't that the truth.