Hamilton Oneshots (2)

Not Like The Others (Elizette)

Requested by Lego4life12

Eliza had never had much luck with relationships. She'd been courted by a man, John André when she was eighteen only to find him out as a British spy and having to witness his execution. Then, a painter named Ralph Earl who she fell rapidly for at the age of twenty, she even let him paint her portrait multiple times. In the end, though, Ralph ended up being a convict and she had to testify at his court hearing, he's still serving his time today. Lastly was her infamous courtship and engagement at twenty-one, Alexander Hamilton but she had to break it off when he refused to marry her unless she agreed to allow John Laurens in their marriage bed, something she outright would not allow and in the end she broke the engagement off.

Now Eliza sat at twenty-three, alone. Was she to be alone forever? Of course, she wasn't too young to marry, she was at almost the perfect age. But what about all her other relationships? It seemed the only safe route was to do what her sisters did, Angelica married a rich nobleman who had no possible way of having a secret past or ulterior wants while Peggy married their cousin, also rich. She didn't have any more cousins that she could think of and making a union with a well-established man is harder than one might think. Angelica's just really good at getting what she wants.

So Eliza had begun resorting to asking her father to throw balls and parties, asking him to invite all the men of power just so she had a chance, but every time she had a shot with somebody she threw it away in fear of them being just like the rest. This one though, this one today, it will be different.

Eliza had on a blue dress, as usual, it had sleeves that slipped off her shoulders and made her feel pretty while her hair had been teased and pulled into a messy yet pretty bun. She had light makeup on and a drink in her hand as she watched the festivities. Why did she never present herself? Why did she let life get in the way? If she wanted to have a family she needed a husband and if she wanted a husband she had to get up and mingle but she was scared, she couldn't take another heartbreak.

Eliza heard a man clear his throat and turned to see a man with rather sharp facial hair which suited his olive skin tone and beautiful deep chocolate eyes, his hair curlier than hers but pulled back into a bun, his cleaner than hers. She smiled to show she was listening and he spoke, "Bonjour mademoiselle. Je suis Lafayette." He spoke in perfect French, Eliza was pretty sure that was his first language by how he said it.

She'd taken French classes since she was only six so she knew how to reply to that, "Bonjour monsieur, et je suis Eliza.." She relished the look of surprise that overtook his features almost immediately.

"You speak French, Miss Schuyler?" He asked in a thick French accent which Eliza found she adored so much.

She nodded, "I do. Is that a surprise?" She smiled but continued without actually wanting an answer, "You seem to know exactly who I am but I have no idea who you are beyond the name Lafayette."

"My apologies," He said and then properly introduced himself, "My name, by full, is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette." He told her in his velvet-like voice if Eliza had let herself remember the name and not be confused by all his names she would've remembered the name as something quite familiar, yet, she did not.

"That's a lot of names," She giggled and he chuckled with her. She realized quickly though that she was becoming fond of him, she had let her walls down for a moment and he had wiggled through a crack, "Which should I call you, monsieur?"

"I may be French but I was baptized as an Italian," Laf joked, "They tried to think of every single angel to protect me and named me after each!" Eliza forced herself not to giggle and he frowned, "Well anyway, most people call me Laf. Would you care to dance?" He asked softly and extended his hand to her.

"Sure," She got up and let Laf lead her onto the dance floor. She danced a perfect waltz with him as they talked, one thing after another. He told her about France and she told him about life in New York and Manhattan.

"You're quite brilliant," Lafayette said at some point and all Eliza could remember doing was blushing hard and looking away self-consciously. He tilted her face back and she stared at him in shock, "What's wrong?" He asked softly and suddenly. Her eyes widened and he continued, "You seem so guarded."

"You wouldn't know anything about it," Eliza replied and pulled her hands back, turning on her heels to leave without even knowing why she was this upset about it. He had found all of her weaknesses and slithered into her heart.

Why was she crying? He's just like the rest. John André, Ralph Earl, Alexander Hamilton, and now Lafayette. It wasn't a surprise, it was a pattern. However unlike John, Ralph, and Alexander...Lafayette chased her and grabbed her wrist, "Elizabeth, please...I can see you 'ave a liking for me too. Can we please...can we try? Try this?" She turned to him but he continued, "I 'aven't ever met a woman who speaks with me about the Queen's gambling 'abits openly with me like you do, one who inspires action. You make my chest burn and my head spin, I feel 'ot when you're near me but colder when you lock me out. Can we not at least try?"

Eliza tried to quell her blush but found she couldn't, "It's easy to say that." She mumbled as she grappled with her mind, "It's easy to say it won't hurt when you've never been hurt because you decided to at least try."

Laf took a moment before he understood, "You've been 'urt by a man once?" He asked her cautiously, "Who was 'e? I'll find 'im and show 'im what 'appens when you 'urt somebody I care about. I swear it on my name, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette." He said hotly.

Eliza blinked and then asked slowly, "Did you just say, Marquis?" She asked quietly, finally realizing he wasn't just some soldier in the continental army, "As in the French title?" She realized she didn't have to add French since he is French but for now she didn't care.

He nodded, "Well yes?" He looked perplexed by this and Eliza rubbed her face over, "Does that matter?"

"Well yes and no," She replied and looked up, "There are three people who I've fallen for but all hid something from me that ended up ending everything so I decided never to be with another from their background. I guess I improperly labeled you so I'm sorry." She knew he'd want an explanation so she continued, "My first love was a man named John André when I was eighteen, a spy from Britain." Laf nodded as that was a common name, "Then came my second love, a painter named Ralph Earl who I found out was a convict and now he's in prison. Lastly, Alexander Hamilton, a soldier, who wouldn't marry me unless I let another man in the bed when we um did things and I refused..." She blinked away the tears as she confided in this man.

Anger flickered in his eyes but he blinked them away, "Hamilton." He muttered as if remembering the name but he put it aside, "I'm not like them, please. I-I'll write to you! You can decide from there. I can promise you I am now a spy from Britain as I am French." He laughed softly and cupped her face, "I can't paint for my life and there's no way I am a convict. It would've made 'eadlines by now. Lastly, I am a soldier but I fear I could never share you. Ever." He sealed his confession with a kiss and Eliza was confused to find she began to kiss back, her mind and heart told her he was not like the others. He would protect and love her and in short, he did, for her entire life.