The States

i don't know if this one is a surrender or a revel

"It's the only option left, Virginia," Lee announces gravely.

Ginny nods sharply once.

She is not the same girl she started this war as, nor the same state.

"It's time to go see General Grant."

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All the polish of her dress uniform can't erase the dark shadows under her eyes, the sharpness of her face, the way her short hair hangs limp.

Ginny's hands shake as she fastens the flag pin Alfred had given her decades ago to her lapel.

"Ready?" Lee asks. He looks just as tired as she does.

Ginny nods, and follows her general one last time.

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"I haven't seen Grant in two decades," Lee tells her, like he can't stand the silence as they wait.

"I only met him once," Ginny responds after thinking a moment. "He's one of Cordelia's. Seemed decent enough."

Shame curls in her stomach when Grant shows up in his mud-spattered uniform, only tarnished shoulder straps to show his rank. Between the three of them, only Grant looks like a real soldier now.

Ginny touches Lee's wrist to reassure him, and his shoulders lose some of the tension he's been holding for the past four years.

She looks back to Grant, only to notice the boy dressed in navy behind him.

Her throat tightens as she takes a step forward. "Bit far from home, aren't you?"

Scott beams at her, hope shining in his eyes. Ginny's expecting it, but the bone-crushing hug Scott wraps her in still knocks her off-guard.

She doesn't know how long she and Scott spend like that, just holding each other, while Lee and Grant reminisce about the Mexican-American and the time they meet before.

Lee clears his throat, and Ginny pulls away from Scott enough to look at him. "I believe it's time for us to discuss the terms of surrender."

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Scott sits beside her as Lee and Grant discuss the terms of surrender.

His thigh is pressed against hers, warm and reassuring. The girl Ginny was before the war would have been swooning.

The terms are more generous than she could have hoped for. Her soldiers, her boys, will not be imprisoned or charged with treason and the officers can keep their sidearms, horses, and personal baggage. Grant's even allowing her men to take home their horses and mules. "For spring planting," He explains when Lee and Ginny both just stare at him.

"I'll provide you with a supply of food rations for your men," Grant adds as a side note after everything else has been laid out. He shoots a meaningful look at Ginny and she flushes.

Grant certainly knows that personifications reflect the state of their people, and all that's left of Ginny is skin and bone, and a dress uniform can't hide that. Her men have been starving for a while.

Ginny shoves her wounded pride down. "Thank you."

She doesn't mumble. She hasn't sunk that far yet.

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She gives Scott her rifle, and he just stares at her in confusion. "Lizzy, what-"

"I'm surrendering. You already knew that."

Scott still seems uncertain, holding her rifle like he's waiting for her to take it back. "...You're coming back with us, right? When Grant and I leave, you'll come too?"

Ginny closes her eyes for a moment. "I can't."

Scott looks away.

"I have things to take care of." She explains, genuinely remorseful. "I'll be home within a fortnight."

She leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Tell Sera to start drafting a new statehood acceptance paper."

Scott sighs, finally slipping her rifle strap over his shoulder. "You're coming home?" He states it like a question.

Ginny offers him a tremulous smile. "I'm coming home."

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Notes:

Set during the surrender at the Battle of Appomattox Court House

A fortnight means two weeks. It's a british word, but I think it was used in America back in ye olden days. So you can either see it as Ginny being british-y or being old-fashioned.

yes, i am aware this sort of contradicts bad timing. i plan on fixing it at some point. this is more historically accurate.