I was at my best friend James Madison's house, and I was bored. Normally I would bother him or my other friend Thomas Jefferson, but he's off in France on "Important Ambassador Business." Ugh. James was being boring writing essays, but I least I got to help with this part when he let me.
"Jaaaaames. I'm bored." Yes, this is helping. Comedic relief is very important.
He coughed twice before answering. "What do you want me to do about it, Y/N? I have to finish looking over these papers and you're distracting me."
I glared lazily at him from half lidded eyes. I was sprawled across the desk in his study, ignoring the chair he had set out for me.
"My dear Jemmy, I know my beauty can be very distracting, but I can still help you with those papers. But since you won't let me, I've resorted to this."
James sighed and put his head in his hands. "You know I want to let you help, but if I do that you'll end up cussing out all of Congress. And will you please sit in the chair? It's unladylike, and I know your mother taught you better than that."
A small smile tugged at my lips as I sat up and smoothed out my dress. "My mother isn't here right now, and we both know you won't tell her. And I will not cuss out all of Congress. Just the ones that refuse to free the slaves and help the army. Besides, we can frame Thomas if anything goes wrong."
James picked his head up and gave me a deadpan stare. "Even if Congress believes that poorly constructed lie, your father won't. And he'll figure out I helped you."
I sighed. People are always so cautious around me because of my father. Apparently, he's pretty intimidating. But I'm not gonna lie, mentioning that my father is George Washington has gotten me out of some difficult situations. I may or may not have abused that power on occasion.
"First of all James, he's not scary. Second of all, even if he does figure out you helped me disrespect Congress, he won't do anything to you."
"Literally all of the Colonies are terrified of your father. Your opinion doesn't count. And he will find out and try to kill me."
I snickered at his indignant expression. As fun as it is to mess with him, he has a point. That's part of what makes dad a great leader. Unfortunately, that means he's needed at war.
I supported his decision, but that doesn't stop me from worrying. Every day I dreaded getting the letter that said George Washington was killed in battle. Of course, I had my own plan to make sure that didn't happen.
Joining the war! But I never actually made it that far because of the patriarchy and my only child status. Apparently, carrying on the Washington legacy rests on my shoulders and those of my rich, future husband.
"Not if I join the war and stop him," I said.
James laughed. "Have fun with that. Don't come crying to me when it ends up like your last attempts."
"One of them was your fault!" I exclaimed.
"Once again, trying to stay in His Excellency's good graces."
"Snitches get stitches, Madison. Watch yourself."
But he's right, I am bad at running away. Once, my mother caught me, another time it was James. I was grounded both times. The third time, Thomas caught me on his way to say goodbye before leaving for France. The fourth time I almost made it, but my period came and I bled through my pants. No amount of excuses could get me out of that one.
I had even written to my father asking him to let me join. I asked to be a soldier, he said no. I asked to be a spy, he said no. I asked to be a nurse, he said no. I asked to be at his right hand helping out with strategies and such, he said no. Just for fun, I even asked to be a general.
He said no.
James' coughing broke me out of my thoughts.
"You good, Jemmy?" I asked. I put a hand on his shoulder as he went through his third coughing fit in the last two hours. He worries me with that cough, but it's been around so long I think it's genetic.
He waved me off. "I'm fine. I guess I can let you help, although it's counterproductive to you learning to be a housewife, don't you think? Not that anyone would want to marry you," he said with a smirk.
I hopped off the desk and glared at him. "Oh? And what do you know about marriage? The only Mrs. Madison I know of is your mother."
"Shut it, Washington. And shouldn't you be leaving soon anyway? It's getting late."
My eyes rolled. "You're just mad I have better comebacks. But if it makes you feel better about yourself, I'll leave."
I also have to check the mail to see if dad sent another letter. If I'm lucky I'll convince him to let me fight this time.
"I'm right though," he said. "And you've been here all day. Your mother is probably worried."
My shoulders drooped, knowing he was right. Mom was extra worried about me with dad gone and my numerous escape attempts.
I'm not giving up though. I'll see battle, just you wait.
With a small smile, I grabbed my things and headed out the door. "I'll see you later, Jemmy!"
James smiled back and waved at me. "Bye Y/N. Tell your mom I said hi."
Shutting the door behind me, I carefully picked my way to the carriage. It was way darker outside than I thought; I really had been at Montpelier all day. Oh well, not the first time. Mercifully, Mount Vernon isn't that far away. I rested my head in my hand and drifted off to the horse's hoof beats.
When I woke up, I was still in the moving carriage. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but the sun was rising. The trip back to Mount Vernon does not run overnight.
I immediately started panicking. This is bad. I could be kidnapped. I could be dreaming. I could be dreaming that I was kidnapped. Or I could be dreaming because they knocked me out to kidnap me. My breathing quickly became erratic. I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself down, but it wasn't working.
Giving up on that, I peeked out the window. I was surrounded by trees. Unfamiliar trees.
Oh I've most definitely been kidnapped. What do I do?! It's not like I can call for help, and who would I call anyway? I could sneak out the back, but where would I go? And most importantly, who kidnapped me?!
And then the stupid hit me like a carriage.
I've been captured by the British army. They're using me to get to dad. They lack so much creativity, it's honestly disappointing. Or was it more disappointing that I didn't see this coming? Oh well.
Knowing that small fact helped me get a handle on my breathing. I managed to calm down enough to take deep, steady breaths. The best thing I could do right now was sit up straight, and steel myself for whatever's coming. I'm a Washington. They will not see me afraid.
As soon as that encouraging monologue was over, the carriage stopped and the door swung open to reveal two men in British uniforms. I couldn't stop the look of fear that crossed my face.
"Much prettier in the daylight, don't you think?" one of them spat.
The other nodded. "Shame we're probably gonna have to mess up that beautiful face of hers. If daddy doesn't pay up, that is."
My blood turned to ice. I did not move as the redcoats roughly grabbed my arms and yanked me out of the carriage. But as soon as my feet hit the ground, I was fighting. Punching, kicking, screaming, anything you can think of, trust me I tried it. But no. They still had my arms in a death grip, slowly cutting off my circulation with their ugly, hairy hands.
"Stop struggling, whore!" one of them screamed. I smiled to myself. That guy got kicked in the nose.
"And shut up! You're giving us all a bloody headache!" The other said.
"Then let me go you stupid Tories! I'll make your coats even redder with your blood!" I screeched in retaliation. By this time, one of them pinned both of my wrists behind my back, and the other was tying them together with rope.
I was dragged me through the woods for a while, and I was exhausted. Struggling requires effort. It also gave me a cover up for my increasing panic. My throat hurt so bad, not to mention my shoulders and wrists.
And then they dropped me and knocked me out with the butt of a musket so I didn't feel the pain. Problem solved.
I didn't open my eyes as soon as I woke up. Everything hurt too much, and I didn't want bright light to cause me more pain.
The first thing I was aware of was the throbbing pain in my wrists and shoulders and the scratchiness of my throat. Then the voices started. Their British accents gave me a headache. I opened my eyes the smallest bit.
I was on a really uncomfortable bed. My hands and feet were tied to the posts. Despite being in a tent, the light was still strong enough to hurt my eyes. I blinked and turned my head which alerted the redcoats.
The two of them looked up at me in surprise. I was in too much pain to even pretend to care at this point. One of them looked at me warily before easing out of the tent and the other just sat and stared at me.
"What are you looking at?" I spat. Ah yes, my old friend, Fake Bravado.
"Don't take that tone with me, young lady. The general wants you alive, not unharmed," he growled. He took a knife out of his pocket and flashed it threateningly towards me.
I glared back at him and scoffed. "I'm not scared of General Howe. My eyelashes are more terrifying."
"Oh, is that so?" a new voice rumbled from the entrance to the tent. A tall man with piercing blue eyes walked in wearing a general's uniform. "I've heard women themselves can be terrifying, but never their eyelashes."
I refused to beak eye contact. I don't know what he would do if I did. My eyes started to fill with hot tears, but I desperately blinked them back. They don't deserve my tears.
"What do you want from me, you filthy redcoat?" I hissed. I already had a good idea, though.
Howe's eyes hardened and he took out his own knife before telling the other soldier to exit the tent with a nod towards the tent flap. This is slightly more terrifying. I felt my resolve starting to crumble.
"I want information from you, Ms. Washington. And you will give it to me, or I will give you scars." He twirled his blade. "It's your choice, really."
He stepped closer towards me with the knife, and I felt fear flicker in my chest. For the first time, I know for a fact that I can't get out of this myself. And using dad to intimidate them is utterly useless.
They mentioned him "paying up" before, though. Hopefully they sent him a ransom note and he knows where I am.
***
It's been days. About a week at this point. And they still kept me in this stupid tent, tied to the bed. Every few days they came by with some bread and water, but I never ate it. Who knows if they're trying to poison me? If I were them, I'd try to poison me.
But then, they wouldn't get any information they think I have. Idiots. Do they really think my dad will just casually mention battle plans in letters to his wife and daughter? Every day, I told them this, and every day they ignored it. Then the torture would begin. Today was no different.
I panted from the pain of Howe's knife digging into my skin. There was a long gash along my forearm and many smaller cuts on my face.
"I'm going to ask you one last time Ms. Washington. You can still determine the outcome of your stay here," Howe said.
I know he doesn't expect me to fall for this reasonable person act when he's pressing a knife to my leg. The blade was pressing into my thigh, not quite hard enough to draw blood, but nearly there. I wasn't even scared anymore, just exhausted and annoyed. The adrenaline made everything numb and I couldn't think or feel.
I didn't say anything. That was my strategy. Feeding them false information wouldn't really help me in this case.
Howe snatched my hair up in his fist and made it so I had to look at him. I grimaced in pain and screwed my eyes shut.
"Look at me, wench!"
My eyes slowly cracked open to look at him. His face was red with anger and his eyes blazed with frustration. All this and he's still not scarier than my father.
I cleared my throat. "Go die. At least then I'll be free from your hot breath."
Howe slapped me. Hard. Can't say I didn't see that coming. "You're running out of time. And you'd better watch your tongue. You 'loving father' hasn't responded to my ransom letter. Guess he doesn't really love you," he snarled before leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I choked back a sob. I couldn't help but think about what my life would be like if this never happened. I'd be back home with mom, waiting for dad to be done with this war. Even though it's dad's fault I'm in this mess in the first place.
If he hadn't decided to be all high and mighty and Generalish, I wouldn't even be here! I'd still be waiting for him to come home, and planning ways to sneak into the army.
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, mixing with blood. I tried my best not to cry, but it was hard. I couldn't believe this happened. Dad knows what happened, but he hasn't done anything about it.
Does he even know where I am? Is he coming to get me, or did he send someone in his place? Will they get here in time to save me, if they make it at all? What if they get captured too?
My head swam with these thoughts to the point where it was painful. The only escape for me at this point is sleep, which thankfully wasn't hard to come by. Soon enough I sank into oblivion.
WASHINGTON'S POV, THE DAY BEFORE
I was sitting in my tent, rubbing my temples and trying to ward off the incoming migraine. This war was getting tough, and Hamilton and his friends getting drunk every time I turn around certainly wasn't helping. At least I got him to be my secretary.
On top of that, I got a letter from Martha yesterday saying that Y/N went missing on a visit to James Madison. Another letter, this one from Madison himself, explained what happened from his perspective.
Apparently, everything was fine until she got in the carriage and left. This meant she was either kidnapped, or on the run from her kidnappers. Neither option is good. But the fact still remains that my only daughter is missing. During the middle of a war, no less.
Tears started making their way down my face. I can't remember the last time I cried, because I can usually keep my emotions in check. Just not when it comes to my family, especially Y/N and Martha.
I wanted to drop everything and look for my daughter. But as a General in the middle of a war, that would be the wrong move. Thousands of people are relying on me, and I can't drop everything to look for one person. If it were anyone else, I would tell them to think of the greater good. Which I guess is what I have to do now. But my little girl...
She could be wandering the countryside or on her way across the ocean in the hands of the redcoats. They could be torturing her, or worse.
Y/N is a Washington. I raised her to be tough. Whatever situation she's in, I'm sure she can handle it until I come for her.
Because I am coming for her.
"Sir? I have a letter for you. It's from British General Howe."
My head shot up immediately. There was still a war going on, despite my domestic issues. "Of course, Hamilton. Come in."
Hamilton came in and sat the letter on my desk. I opened it immediately without giving myself time to imagine what it might be. I had to focus on the facts. The letter said:
Dear Sir,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. Not really, that's just the polite thing to say. You see, I am the one who captured your daughter. Each day that you refuse to surrender, your daughter will face more pain and suffering than the day before. We're giving you four days to surrender. The choice is really up to you, General Washington.
General W. Howe
My hand balled into a fist and crumpled the letter with it. How dare they kidnap my daughter?! And then hurt her!! Howe will pay for this. The only good thing about this is that I know where she is now.
"Sir?" Hamilton asked. His voice brought me out of my rage and I turned my glare to him. He shrank in on himself but tried his best to hide it.
"Get me Mulligan and Lafayette. Now."
"Yes sir." Hamilton scurried out of the tent as fast as he could. Once he was gone, I put my head in my hands.
"Be strong, Y/N. You'll be safe soon."