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

Unfortunate Soldier

(Y/N POV)

"Y/N! Up! Quick!!" Emily shook my shoulders, awakening me from a deep sleep.
"What? What time is it?" I mumbled
"You've got half an hour before the carriage leaves!!"

I jolted out of bed and into the hallway, not bothering to put my slippers on. Though I had remembered to put a wig on, just to be safe. "I've tried telling him to leave so that you could get ready but he just won't!" she exclaimed.
"Sshh, quiet down!" I lectured, "He might hear you!"

I tread into the living room, finding Alexander struggling to put on his jacket. "Here, let me help." I held it up for him to insert his arms into the sleeves, adjusting his collar and wiping down his trousers.
"Thank you." he said, studying my wig curiously.
"Anytime."
"I suppose you'll be going straight to work, then?"
"Sure." I lied.
"Brilliant."

He kissed me on the cheek, heaving a large bag over his shoulders. "I'm afraid I'll have to get going now; time is at its essence."
"Indeed it is." I agreed. For all I knew, this could be the last time we ever saw each other for who we truly were. I could likely be killed in action, and Alexander wouldn't even know it. I'd be rubbed off as just another unfortunate soldier. I held him into a loving embrace, holding his head against mine. "Be careful out there, okay?" I whispered.
"As long as the two of you are in my reach, I will always be careful."

The clock chimed quarter-to, releasing a quiet sigh from Alexander. He comfortingly rubbed my shoulder, continuing over to Emily. They were able to squeeze in a quick hug before it was time for him to depart. "I'll write to you both!" he announced, closing the front door.

At that moment, panic exploded around the house. I sprinted upstairs to get my uniform on whilst Emily readied my bag. I chucked my nightgown into the corner of the room, hauling out the clothing hidden underneath the bed:

"Alright, here it goes." I slipped the uniform on; it felt weird wearing pants after 4 years of constantly wearing dresses. I inspected myself in the mirror, gripping my jacket at the seams.

It looked snazzy.

I laughed at myself in overwhelming delight, not knowing whether to feel overjoyed or fearful anymore. As Emily advised, I'd bound my breasts with several bandages so nobody would get suspicious. I pretended to hold a musket in my hand, aiming at my own reflection. "You alright there?" Emily giggled. I turned around in embarrassment, clutching the edge of the desk.
"Yes, I'm just... practising."
"Mmhm... Well you're not going to get any practice in unless you actually get out there."

She tossed me the bag. "What's in there?" I pondered.
"Oh! Some food for on the way there, water, pencil and paper for if you ever want to write or draw or... whatever." she listed. "You... You are going to write, aren't you?" She sneezed into her arm immediately after she finished.
"Of course I am, you're my sister! But you have to promise to write back."
"Obviously I'll write back, I wouldn't just ignore you!"

"Heh..." I lunged in for a hug, tackling her arms on to mine. "Stay safe, Emily. I couldn't imagine a world without you in it."
"Okay okay, stop with all the pointless soppy stuff and go before you miss the carriage!" she reminded me.
"Right... Yeah." I put the bag upon my shoulders, smiling at her. "Bye."
"Bye..." She waved her hand toward me, and I left.

~

I drew closer to the hustle of men, queuing up to be registered for the war. Some were standing to the side, which I could only assume had already joined the war previously or had just been signed in. Among that small portion was Alexander, chatting with his friends. "Oh boy..." I thought, "What if he recognises me? No, what if he even sees me?! This is too risky!"

I jogged into the line, trying to shield myself behind a bulky man. Thankfully, he seemed disinterested, still talking. As long as he is distracted then I'll be fine. The queue quickly died down, and I was soon the only one left to be registered. I stepped forward to the desk casually placed in the middle of the street, accompanied by a man with files of paper.

"Name..." he yawned, taking his quill.
"Charlie Miller, sir." I answered in the deepest voice I could muster.
"Age..." He rested his head on his hand, scribbling something down with the other.
"Seventeen, sir."
"Ah, stop callin' me sir, will y'?" he ordered.
"S- Sorry, s-- I mean--!"
"Ugh, let's just get this over and done with..."

He leaned forward, staring at me intensely. "Teeth." he muttered.
"What?"
"Show me your teeth, lad!"
"Oh!" I gaped my mouth open, baring my teeth.
"Good." -He jotted down more notes- "Hands." I held out my hands to him. "Move your thumbs." I did as he said. "Good... Now your forefingers." I wiggled my fingers. "Very good."

"If you don't mind me asking, what was that for?" I pondered.
"Kid, if you want to survive out there then those requirements have to be met."
"Why?"
He slammed his hand on the desk, ink splattering everywhere. "Listen, stop questionin' me! I don't have time for your nonsense! Now go and join the others!"
"Yes, umm... S- Sure."

I hastily plodded along to the crowd, trying to stay as far away from any physical contact as possible. Two more carriages came bustling down, and they were reasonable sizes for many to fit. "Alright, everyone get on!" I stood still as I watched everyone board. This was the moment. No turning back now. "Hey, are you getting on or what?" The man shoved my head forward, forcing me to stumble to a carriage.

I sat down wherever there was a near space, unwilling to look around in case I caught someone's attention. A person next to me started laughing with a group of men, accidentally knocking my shoulder. "Sorry, buddy." he apologised, returning to whatever he was discussing. "I suppose you could say that!"
"And your eldest? What's she like?" a soldier with a French accent asked.
"Smartest girl I've ever seen, I must admit!"

Wait.

Was that...?

I took a sharp glance to my left: Alexander. I freaked out a little and made an effort to move. But before I could, the carriage jolted forward and I remained seated.

We were off to the war.

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N

If you're wondering what that was all about, basically to enter the war, you had to have your two front teeth and a working thumb and forefinger. This was so a soldier could reach in, grab a cartridge, tear off the paper and be able to load their musket. So it was relatively easy for cross-dressers to get away with.