History Has Its Eyes On You ~ A Hamilton Fanfiction (Book 1, Act 1)

Safe With Us

(Y/N POV)

My throat burned. Despite my eyes still shut, the air felt different. It was like thousands of fumes were trying to choke me all at once. I held back the urge to gag, as rocks crumbled beneath my sore hands. Hadn’t I only just been in my room?

I anxiously clasped both of my hands together to gain the touch of the ring once more; it was no longer in my presence. I delicately sheltered my knuckles and made an attempt to open my eyes.

I became incredulous. Surely some daft fairytale couldn’t be true...

There I was. Centred in the middle of a battleground. The grass was faded and the sky brown. It was clear that some kind of fight had already commenced beforehand; nevertheless, I kept my guard up. An unwinding trench was scattered ahead of me as I focused my gaze. As pathetic as it may seem, I attempted to crawl to it in order to hopefully find human life. Obviously, I was unsuccessful as my body collapsed under my own weakness. My cheek landed on a sharp piece of metal, bleeding out by its touch.

There was no getting out of this one.

(Third person POV)

The soldier kicked his trusted friend in the shin, awakening him from his sudden slumber.

“Hey, keep watch. If the General finds you off patrol then you’re dead.” Hercules Mulligan, a former tailor's apprentice before the war, warned his companion.
“Don’t worry, I’m on it!” Lafayette replied sharply. Being one of merely a few Frenchmen in the American armed forces, he was recognisable to practically anyone.

His eyes scanned the desolate landscape for any signs of movement. Usually, none was to be found, as many men were presumed dead and discarded away somewhere else. But it was important to keep watch for enemies, as they could never predict when they would strike next.

Back and forth, back and forth, trailing over and over the same old mounds of dirt. Until finally, an unexpected intruder caught his attention. He readied his gun at this supposed imposter, paying all of his attention to the small twitches in their fingers. They seemed... helpless.

Yet he didn’t back down. His number one priority was to never lower his guard. He gently placed his finger on the trigger, up until he could thoroughly distinguish the figure. This was no soldier. No. Their body was small, fragile. Their hair was tied back into a small ponytail, which dropped down the side of their shoulder as they struggled. Alas, they wore some sort of dull uniform and a pair of black trousers.

This was no soldier.

This was a child.

Lafayette heartily tugged at his friend's collar, forcing him to stand next to him at the trench’s openings. “What??!” Mulligan screeched irritably, but Lafayette only pointed in the direction of the girl. His face suddenly dropped as his eyes focused on her, contemplating how she could have possibly ended up out there in the first place.

“Oh my god...” He leapt down from the sturdy walls, racing to catch his friend who was fast asleep on the floor. “Laurens-!” Mulligan ferociously shook the man, who identified as John Laurens. Throughout the war, his only goal was to end slavery and put a stop to racism overall. But when no war was happening, most of the time, he consolidated with his alcohol.

In a panic, he reached for his gun, expecting to have been awoken for battle. Nonetheless, Mulligan casually lowered it, guiding Laurens towards were Lafayette remained. Others because curious as they passed by, detecting the looks of concern between them.

One by one, they raised themselves to the edges of the trench, spotting the feeble child. “Is that...?”
“Oui.” Lafayette interrupted Laurens.
“What is the meaning of this?!” The General, George Washington, marched out from his station. One of Washington's most trusted soldiers, Alexander Hamilton, informed him of all the commotion. By this point, men were trying to lure the child over to their side, afraid that their rivals would reach them first.

Hamilton accompanied Washington’s side, though was less perturbed at the circumstances than the General. Laurens offered him a hand, pulling him up to reveal the problem lurking in the middle of the battlegrounds. Washington was speechless, unable to describe what he was seeing. Not a single soldier was left solitary; not one. All eyes were absorbed by the child.

“What should we do?” a young man asked Washington.
“We can’t go out there, it’s far too dangerous.” stated another. Repetitive murmurs and questions were echoed around, destroying Washington’s will to think bit by bit.
“Hamilton, we sh-“ Before he could finish, he’d noticed that his companion was missing. Indeed, he was already crossing the field.

(Y/N POV)

“Hamilton! Get back here now!!” The voice sounded genuinely concerned, and I watched as small blurs of blue engulfed me. In fact, one seemed to be drawing closer. I shuffled my body backwards, using my hands and feet for stability.

“Don’t be afraid,” a manly voice reassured, “I’m not here to hurt you.” My senses began to clear up, and it was made apparent that a smartly dressed man approached. Even though I had never met him in my life, his voice seemed profoundly familiar. Regardless of this fact, I was still cautious about his presence.

I backed away some more, though it was hardly noticeable. The figure crouched down, and all drama let loose from the trenches became nothing more than a whisper. “My name is Alexander Hamilton,” he started, “Would you like to tell me yours?” My heart was pounding out of my chest. Alexander Hamilton? No. No, of course this wasn’t real, there was no possible way this was real. Alexander Hamilton died years ago, this must be some pathetic prank or-

“Y/N...” I whimpered under my breath. I was stunned; my emotions took over, I didn’t want to answer, it just happened instinctively.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He offered out his hand, though I was confused whether I should shake it or not as we were in the middle of a battlefield. I clawed at the ground, hoping to get some satisfaction from it. He picked up on my unwillingness to participate, and he drew his hand back.

“You know, it’s very dangerous out here, Y/N. If anything were to happen, you could be severely hurt.” He kneeled down even further than he already was, meeting my eyesight. “And you don’t want that to happen, I’d suppose. I promise, we won’t hurt you; you’re safe with us.” Once more, he opened his hand out to me. Realisation rapidly started to hit that if I didn’t do something soon then I could end up injured, as he said. I shared him one final look of trust, gently placing my hand into his.