The Battle of Trenton is the first major victory for Washington and the Continental Army.
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Snowflakes fell as we slowly approached what seems to be Trenton. I noticed Alexander was shivering quite violently, yet his stance always remained proud and upright. He was continuously muttering things under his breath, as if counting and re-counting everything that could go wrong.
He flinched when I put my hand on his shoulder. "'M fine, Layden."
"You'd never call me Layden if you're okay," I smile, walking next to him. "You're freezing."
He glared at me, his nose, cheeks and ears red. "So is everyone else. I fail to see your point."
"I never made one," I say and retract my hand when I notice that we're finally getting somewhere. "I... Don't overexert yourself. I'm not trying to say that you're less capable than others-" well, he looked like it with his slender, almost delicate body, but I couldn't tell him that. "-It's just that I know that you'll do more than everyone else. And you're... well, human."
"I shall be fine, Solomon. Instead of needlessly worrying over me, focus on the Hessians," He says softly, and I look forward. Some other captain signals our artillery to separate from the group, and we all drag two cannons away from the main body.
"Remember- our objective is to block King's street- not that of a massacre. Though if they shoot, return fire!" Alexander's tone of voice shifted and his body language became powerful and exact, leaving no room for the softness I felt before. It's so fascinating- it's as if he's a completely different person now.
"Yes, sir!" I fall back to my fellow soldiers, leaving Alexander at the front. A short 'Layden!' attracted my attention, and I noticed Vaughan struggling with one of our cannons. "A hand, sir!"
"Strange to see you in such disarray, Vaughan," I grin as I help him push the cannon. The Welshman had really dark eye bags, and I've never seen his hair that wild before. He smiled tiredly. "Nine miles on foot, at dawn, can do things to a man, sir."
"'S not dawn yet, even. Damn, I'm tired," I say, as he lets out an amused huff.
"I hope to believe that you curve your language around people other than Hamilton and I."
"Come on, my cursing's not that bad." That earned me a look and a knowing 'mhmm'. "Oh, go fuck yourself, Vaughan." A laugh is the only answer I get. We continue to push the cannons through the snow.
Soon we reach King's street, the place we're assigned to, Alexander shouts to prepare our muskets for fire. "Are we gonna shoot them?" I whisper in his ear, and Alexander breaks out of his captain personality for a second, worry glimmering in his eyes. "Only if they try to shoot first, but I doubt they will- Festivities have taken place yesterday, and all that entails. Still, don't go to the front. That's an order, Layden."
I almost wanted to tease him of his abuse of power, but the edge in his voice made me nod. "Yes sir."
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"Der Feind!"
"S'that a cue?" I asked, and Vaughan shook his head. Alexander focused intently on the street, looking for some kind of sign of life, and there it was. Complete and utter chaos.
And soon, we were ordered to aim. Men with uniforms different to the Brits ran around frantically, some in questionable state of attire. I look at Vaughan in question, who just shrugged. "'T'was a surprise attack, I suppose?"
One of them finally noticed us, pointing at us and talking in frantic- uh- Hessian. Alexander raised his left hand, which meant for us to prepare the cannons. A shiver of dread ran down my back. I don't think this was going to end well.
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It did end well. During the absolute chaos on the Hessian side, we managed to completely overpower and surround their base. They tried firing at the army, but our artillery quickly retaliated with our two cannons, causing complete chaos on the Hessian side.
Surprisingly, not much blood was spilt on either side- we captured the Hessians with only two casualties on our side and twenty-two on theirs. Thank God for that. I'm happy that it wasn't some massacre- I think that would be one of the only few things I couldn't deal with.
I passed a few Hessians that were tied together. They were shouting at each other in Hessian(?), but took the time to glare at me as I passed. I stared at them, feeling a twinge of guilt. We did kind of ruin Christmas for them, after all. I quickly stopped myself, though- They were only here because they were getting paid, and we didn't kill them, after all.
The winds blows relentlessly, making me pull my scarf over my nose. I was used to winters with ice and snow, but it was never like this. There was never a chance of getting frostbite or hypothermia and dying. And the scariest thing was that people have died because of exposure during our journey. Two good soldiers died because they weren't properly dressed.
I suddenly see Alexander- he's in the company of three men, and one of them quickly caught my attention. He was a giant, towering over Alexander and everyone else around him. He wore an unreadable expression on his face, speaking calmly to the man on his left. Despite his calm nature, he seemed to carry an aura of authority.
Hamilton was smiling, his cheeks red- probably from the cold, as he excitedly said something that made the tall man nod. I look at him again, he wore a long cloak, covering his broad figure, and, when he raised his arm, I caught a glimpse of blue.
Suddenly, blue- almost white- eyes met mine, and my breath hitched. His mouth continued moving, as the man on his side nodded, but his eyes stayed on me. The look of complete neutrality made me feel slightly uneasy, but it also sparked some kind of recognition.
Have I seen him before..?
I keep looking at him, and he looks back, as someone else talks to him. I squint slightly, as if asking a question. Dude, someone is talking to you, why are you staring at me?
His glare sharpens, and his jaw twitches. Why are YOU staring at me? Mind your own business, dumb fuck.
Offended at my own inner dialogue, I smile at the man politely (just in case he gets offended and tries to duel me), then rip my gaze away from the to run off and find Vaughan, who is probably drunk out of his mind. The last thing he told me was "There's rum!" and ran off with his other buddies.
I found him splayed out by some other drunk men, laughing at something another red-faced man said. I shake my head fondly at his antics, and walk behind him. "You do realize that we'll be crossing the Delaware again today?"
Vaughan let out a high-pitched shout, jumping in surprise. All the other men laugh, and Vaughan stumbles, then grins widely when he sees me. "Ah, gentlemen! I don't believe I have introduced you to Solomon Layden, my colleague under Hamilton!"
"Ah, so he's the lad?" An older man with a loud accent and wide smile says. His face was red from the alcohol, as he spat all around himself, making me slightly uncomfortable. "We've all 'eard many stories of ye, boy!"
I furrow my brows. "I didn't do anything impressive, who the hell's telling stories of me?"
The man laughs, and many follow his lead, and Vaughan raises his hand with another loud laugh, and said "Guilty as charged".
"Oi, ain't he the man who stayed back to ensure the gentleman with the arm was safe?" Another man loudly enquired. Oh, they're talking about when we stole the cannons. I nod, wondering how they found out about that.
"A heart of compassion, ain't ye?" I zoned out during the rest of the conversation, remembering my objective to help Vaughan to bed. "Any person would've done the same, I'm sure. Now, Vaughan, unless you want to fall off of the boat and die tomorrow, let me get you to bed."
"Layden, no!" He whined like a small child. "'Tis Christmas!"
"You've been drinking for three hours. Merry fucking Christmas, Vaughan." The men around him laughed and jeered as I got him to stand. He stumbled, putting almost all of his body weight onto me. "Damn it, get off of me, you big oaf!" Apparently, I said something hilarious, as all the men laughed hysterically again.
I stumble to get Vaughan to our tent. He giggles to himself, staring off to nowhere. When we get into the tent, I dress him out of his outer coat, stockings, waistcoat and undershirt- though I left his breeches. The man giggled again, and pulled me down onto the bed. I shouted, caught by surprise.
"Vaughan, let me go."
"M'names Nathaniel," He mutters, caging me in. Shit, he's a cuddler when he's drunk.
"Nathaniel, let me go," I try again.
"No." I groan, tired from everyone's bullshit. He reeks of alcohol, and I hate it. He squeezes his arms, probably trying to suffocate me. "Y'r soft, d'ya know?"
"Yes, I'm aware that-" I'm a woman so I can't put on muscle as easily as a man could "-I don't exercise enough, now please let me go, I need to find Al-Hamilton."
"...'S not what I meant, Lead." I snort when he calls me that, and then I somehow manage to escape. I sigh in exhaustion. "Shit, now I have to find the other man-child." Vaughan giggled at that.
Alexander was only tipsy- thank God for that. He noticed me much quicker than Vaughan had, excusing himself from a conversation and hooking his arm with mine. Literally the first thing he told me was "Washington wants me as an aide-de-camp."
I pause, looking at him curiously. "The George Washington? Why?" I wasn't even aware that they've met each other. The fact that he could be walking around anywhere in this camp made me feel a bit uneasy.
"I... amn't sure, honestly. He needs an aide-de-camp, and I seemed to be a good fit." We start walking hand-in-hand, as he talks quieter than he usually does. "I don't really know how to feel. I don't want to be an aide-de-camp, but... it's Washington."
I hummed, staring off to the distance. "How did all of this start, anyway?"
"Well, I-"
"Short version, please," I quickly interrupted, and Alexander scoffed.
"Fine. So the whole thing's successful- huzzah, Hessians are caught off guard, we stole all of their- uh, everything," He says in a deadpan tone. "I met Greene, he said 'good job, Hamilton, Washington wishes to speak with you' and then there he was!" Alex exclaims, using his free hand to gesture wildly. "So his Excellency was impressed by my- I quote- 'conduct on the battlefield', and thus he said 'I need an aide-de-camp. Be my aide-de-camp'."
"Sounds a bit like he ordered rather than asked," I said, and Alexander shrugged.
"Well, Washington is the Commander-in-Chief, after all. T'would be strange if he asked."
"So, what did you say?"
"I... didn't say anything. I had merely thanked him for the offer, and..." He trails off. He looks at me, as if expecting an answer. "I'm honored, but it raises a question- why did Washington ask me? He has other men-" There was a self-deprecating undertone that I really wasn't a fan of, "-that are as willing to work for him."
"But can they work as efficiently as you?" I say, silencing him. I continue, mostly just trying to figure out the answer. "Wash said that he was impressed by your conduct or whatever- is he referring to you being able to command, your willingness to follow the cause, your- uh- efficient but concerning work ethic, or all three of them?" I frown to myself. "Either way, he wants you on his team, and- well, he's George Washington, the heart of this cause. Why're you so hesitant on this?"
Alexander exhales shakily. "I'm afraid that I do not know. I do not wish to be an aide-de-camp- you know this. And... I worry about what shall happen to you if I accept."
Ah, we found the reason, but it shocked me. "Me?"
Alexander's eyes meet mine. "Yes, Soul, you." Okay, I'm sure he said that on purpose. "After all, Washington's aides follow Washington around the States. Where shall you go if I become part of Washington's staff?"
"I'm sure I'll find some way to contribute to our cause, if that's what you're worried about." My smile probably looks more like a grimace- after all, following Alexander is a bit more difficult if he's following Washington.
"No," Alexander says. "I cannot let this happen. You've got experience with writing from the time at Lytton's, right? Maybe I could tell Washington about-"
"No, God no, Alex, nobody is telling Washington anything about me. That would be terrible." Dread sinks into my stomach at that idea. Being involved with Hamilton is bad enough, but if- without exaggeration- the most important man in American history meets me, who knows what will happen?
I feel like an imposter again. My head aches in a familiar way.
"Why? Has something happened that I was not made aware of?" Alexander asks, rightfully confused, and- how the fuck am I supposed to answer that?
"I just- it's- I-" I stutter, not finding the words. The snow falls around us playfully, as if taunting me. "I doubt that he-his Excellency would- no, that's not it. I just..."
"What is it then?" Alex asks.
"I... Maybe it would be better if Washington didn't know of my... existence." Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I don't care.
"But why? You're suddenly acting very odd. Are you ill?" Alexander presses his hand to my forehead, likely checking for a fever. I shake my head quickly.
"M'fine. Just... tired, I guess." Maybe I should just leave all of this for tomorrow. Alexander sighs, and I know that he's tired, too. "Let's get some sleep before we have to cross that river again."