Work Text:
The moment he arrived in Valley Forge, he felt it.
Something strange and unsettling about how the wind rushed through the dense forest- howling hollow when snow storms encumbered the camp. The Schuylkill River was dark and impossibly deep to the eye, hidden throughout the snow-heavy pine trees. No wonder the Dutch called it the ‘skulking river’, how one unwary step could send a man falling into its depths.
His horse had spooked one day when it was left for just a moment, bolted into the treeline and quickly disappeared into the shadows. Nothing left but prints in the new-falling snow to follow. General Washington had insisted he would go to find it, a trained horse is worth almost its weight in gold to a skilled rider, and Washington didn’t feel its moment of terror was a fault of the beast- more the portentous atmosphere that breathed with the mist. The scout’s reports of the area didn’t believe there were wolves or any larger creatures, but the sheer darkness of the forest made Washington hurry to return his horse before nightfall.
“General Washington, over here.”
One of the men spoke softly, waving the rest over to where the trail in the snow seemed fresher. The three men he had taken with him, determined but cowardly to a fault, shivered in the chill as one of them examined the hoof marks.
“It seems as if the horse stopped here sir, it shouldn’t be far up ahead.” Some of them nodded and looked at Washington for approval.
“It doesn’t have much farther it can go, the river is upon us soon.”
“You’re right sir, I would suggest we try to surround the beast, so it doesn’t wander further into the forest to the east.”
The young man with dark eyes waited for George to reply, he held himself tall despite the crippling cold. Something in his mind told George his name might have been Peter, just another man desperate to impress.
“Absolutely colonel, you and I will go to the west, you two to the east. We may have a better chance of capturing it before the moon rises.”
The forest was silent aside from the crunch of snow and ice underfoot. When George looked up, fragmented shards of the sky could be seen through the pine needles, but barely any light permeated through the thick cover of the trees. The young man trembled slightly, his breathing heavy. Like much of the other soldiers, he was nimble and willing to prove his worth. Well, not as much as his-
“Sir! I think I see it!”
The man pointed, between two solemn trunks, a slender shape stood out amongst the shadows. Occasionally the beast raised its head to turn and sniff the air, cautiously treading though the snow. The glint of reins on its neck confirmed his suspicions, his horse stood still between the trees, almost too frightened to move.
“Colonel, move ahead and beckon it from behind. I will try and capture its ties, do not startle it.”
Washington whispered, but his words were clear and heavy- something perfected through the years. The young man smiled and took off into the brush, quickly gone from his vision and shadows overtook him. George began to walk towards the stallion, keeping his steps silent and slow. He was not four feet from the horse, its attention turned behind it so it did not notice Washington reaching out for its reins. He barely brushed against the leather when he heard a scream, a shout that made the horse rear itself and try to gallop. George held tightly to the ties, pulling the beast back, but its eyes were wide and full of fear, whining and crying out as he kept it there. The man screamed again, and two distant shouts replied, the silence of the forest broken by the struggle of the frantic horse and of something else. In-between the trees Washington could see the young man, his figure grappling with something hunched over and dark. He resisted, but the monster writhed and thrashed so violently George feared it would cause inexorable damage. The terrifying creature howled, and the man freed himself from its grips and ran towards the others cries. His footsteps quickly faded into the quiet, only the panting and growling of the being and the horse’s horrified squeals pervaded the silence now.
Slowly, Washington drew out his sword, the icy metal glinting in whatever semblance of light there was left. He hushed the horse as the creature hobbled nearer, it’s bowed back bobbing with each drag of the long claws on its feet. Its legs were covered with matted hair but its face, arms and neck were bare. The skin was pale and loosely hung, but the face was almost human. Despite its eyes foggy with cataracts, the creature lumbered forwards until it was in the clearing with Washington. The horse froze, so petrified that even if George let go of the ropes the beast wouldn’t move an inch. The creature stood back fully on its hind legs until it was at eye level, blinking in the sparse light.
“What are you?”
The creature hissed through its teeth, words gravely and quiet- like it hadn’t spoken in a hundred years.
“No more than a man.”
George gripped his sword a little tighter, prepared to move if the creature sprung at him.
“Why did you come here?”
“To rescue this animal before it succumbed to the cold.”
The creature looked at the horse hungrily, its hands twitching.
“You did not intend to hurt me?”
George frowned, it looked almost afraid with how fearfully the thing glanced at his sword. George began to lower his arm a little, and the creature shuffled from foot to foot.
“No, I do not mean to disturb you.”
The creature seemed to understand simple language, and stepped back from George and the horse. The faint shouts of the others grew louder, calling out for him from the forest.
“I did not know there were other men here, aside from you and the one I bit,” the creature growled as the calls seemed much closer, “will you ruin this place? Bleed me and this forest dry?”
“No, we will keep this land safe if you wish it. We only need for firewood, not blood.”
The creature looked back at the forest thoughtfully, tapping one claw against the frozen ground before it reached a decision.
“Some used to call me a witch many years ago. Perhaps I may give you a token so that you keep your word.”
The creature turned, bending forward until it was contorted like a dog, and scrabbled on the ground and near the trees. It limped in the woods for several moments, and returned upright, holding a stone in its hands.
“With this you may hear the words that others only speak in their minds. It will not last long, but it is my token.”
Washington put the sword back into its sheath, staring down at the grey-blue rock. It was perfectly round, without imperfections entirely. The creature held it so carefully, staring at Washington apprehensively. He reached out and held the stone in-between his fingers, the chill from ice and snow didn’t dissipate. The creature shuffled backwards until it was almost hidden in the trees.
“I prefer your kind to the men in red, they do nothing but scorch the land. At least you fight for it.”
The moment the creature backed into the darkness the horse began to shake and pull again, surprising Washington as it reared against his grip. His left hand was caught between the ties, and as the horse resisted the rope dug painfully into his skin. He almost cried out, but held fast to the horse until the footsteps of his men were close. The men surrounded the horse, trying to calm it until the beast stopped wriggling in Washington’s grip. It still stood anxiously, uncomfortable in the dark forest, but no longer kicked or cried out.
“Are you alright sir? We came as soon as we heard the cries, and found Peter soon after.”
The man was limping slightly, the uniform stained with blood on his arm. The held it and trembled, whether it was cold or fear George could not tell.
“I’m fine, and the rest of you seem uninjured. Colonel, what happened?”
“I, I think it might have been a dog sir, I don’t know.”
“Then we must leave these godforsaken woods, we shall stay together then.”
Washington kept a firm hand on the horse, guiding it through the trees as the men trudged behind- whispering to each other. His other hand was tracing the outline of the stone in his coat, it still was freezing.
“Your Excellency sir, I’m glad you returned successful.”
Washington turned around to see Alexander waiting there, he had just finished handing off the horse to a poor looking stable boy, and while it still was restless- the chances of it bolting were much slimmer with a sturdy rope. Hamilton smiled as he saluted, other arm clutching at a stack of letters he had written.
“Yes, night has not fallen which is a blessing- but it is far too dark already. Have you finished your correspondence?”
Alexander gestured to the stack of paper, the ink just dried and the parchment still warm under his ink stained fingertips.
“Only requiring your signature sir, would you prefer to work now or?”
Alexander’s attention was drawn away by the young man being carried to the medical tent, his injury seeming to have worsened as the blood stain on his coat was darker and more pronounced.
“It was a wild dog Hamilton, unfortunate man took a bite.”
Hamilton’s brows furrowed as he stood in thought for a moment, drumming his fingers against the paper.
“I did not know there would be dogs here, even so, where would it come from? It’s not like it-“
“Hush Hamilton, leave your pondering to later. We shall work now and save time for supper.”
Hamilton walked next to Washington, barely reaching his shoulder. The man was in high spirits, but he could tell from the bags under his eyes that Alexander was not too pleased at his Generals disappearance. Did Hamilton miss him? George thought as he trod though the snowmelt and mud, the snow not yet falling but hanging heavily over their heads like bedsheets. Glancing at Alex, the cold uncertainty he had held in him since his encounter with the creature drifted- his dark hair was beginning to free from his tie, and fall over his face unkemptly. It had a certain charm about it, as Hamilton brushed back the stands only for them to fall forward again a second late, Washington would laugh if it weren’t for his aides ignorance to his emotions.
Alexander pulled back the tent flap, letting Washington duck slightly and enter his warmer private quarters. A candle was already burning at the desk, the quill in the inkpot and fresh sheets of paper ready to use. Hamilton’s work.
“These just need reviewing and signing sir, I can work on other letters if you like meanwhile.”
Washington nodded, and Hamilton sat into the chair and began to draft the next letter- probably a plea to congress or orders to soldiers stationed away from damned Valley Forge. George leant the paper on his desk, a much sturdier and darker wood without the stains from ink or scratches from pens that Hamilton’s had. The work wasn’t the most thrilling, only his name at the bottom or a couple words added or removed, but Hamilton’s writing seemed more eloquent than possible when the pair worked in candlelight. Occasionally Alexander would murmur something, reworking a sentence out loud, and all the more endearing it was. Once Hamilton had fallen asleep over his work, the pen had stopped writing for one moment and he was gone. Washington had heard of Alexander's tendencies to overwork to exhaustion, seeing the proof of that in his shaking hand and tired eyes, but George had only had the pleasure of seeing his little lion asleep once. His soft breathing rustling the paper slightly with each rise and fall of his chest, and those long eyelashes fluttered in a dream.
Washington shook himself out of the reverie, sighing as he paused his work just a moment to gaze at Hamilton. He shouldn’t let these thoughts pervade his mind, it was a sin but temptation was so close but locked away in the mind that was Alexander. The boy would never have him anyway, too many years his senior, too much his father or his general. Nothing Alexander would want- would desire.
Without thinking, his fingers had slipped into the pockets of his coat, and he winced slightly at the freezing stone he found there. Still like the snow it was picked from, the stone was smooth and cold to the touch. Washington wondered what he would do with it, whether it worked or not.
'Damn, what is the date today?'
Washington looked back up to Hamilton, where he tapped his fingers against the desk in a frantic rhythm, seeming almost stuck on something.
"The thirteenth Hamilton."
Alex frowned, swivelling in his seat to face George with inquisitive eyes.
"Did I say something sir?"
George pauses, puzzled, lifting his hand from his pocket and clasping them together on his desk.
"You," Washington tried to look unfazed as Alexander still stares with confusion, "-asked me the date."
For a moment Alex is still, but chuckles to himself and half turns back to his work with a bemused expression.
"I must have said that out loud sir, I'm sure you've heard enough of how I write audibly."
"It's no matter Hamilton, there is no shame in speaking one's words to test their mettle."
"Perhaps," Alexander shrugs and talks without even looking at Washington, "you know me well enough sir that you might anticipate my troubles."
Hamilton continues to smile, writing much quieter now almost self-consciously. Now that was an interesting thought. Washington did know much about the boy that spent most of his waking hours either working at that desk or wishing he was, 'much' meaning the very insufficient amount he could draw out of him on weary nights or fuzzy mornings. Hamilton didn't talk about the past, so Washington was one of the privileged few to at least know more than nothing.
George finished the letter, placing he paper to the side to let the ink dry. He took this brief moment to close his eyes and stretch out the stiffness in his neck. His hands brush against the pocket in his coat, now even the stiff wooden fabric feeling freezing from the stones presence.
'What wouldn't I do to let those hands-'
His fingers jerk back from the coolness like it's fire, and Washington hesitates to breathe as that sentence is abruptly cut off. Steadying himself, he clenches his jaw to answer what THAT was from Hamilton, yet Alexander is still leaning over his work diligently, seemingly unaware to any disturbance.
It couldn't be that stone, could it? The gift that let him 'hear the words that others only speak in their minds', he wasn't hearing Hamiltons... Thoughts?
To turn speculation into theory, he must have substantial empirical evidence.
Washington stood, pushing in heavy wooden chair and clearing his desk slowly and methodically. Normal enough not to arouse suspicion or worry, to ruin the experiment. His aide was still scribbling, oblivious to Washington standing behind him patiently.
"I believe it's time to retire Hamilton, I'll send for tomorrow morning."
His hands are clasped firming behind his back, trying not to wince at the freezing stone held in them.
"But sir, I'm almost finished, I can just as easily stay-"
Alexander stood, shoulders square in protest.
"Enough. You have worked brilliantly son, but if you don't rest then you won't be able to work like that."
'You'd be surprised.'
Washington is almost taken aback by his inner voice, much smoother and unrestrained than the way Alexander talks. Not constricted by rank or class.
"Your Excellency, at least let me take some of these paper back so I may finish them without wasting your candlelight."
Washington frowns at Hamilton trying to decipher his eager expression.
"Don't disobey me son, your work is done for tonight."
'I wish he'd stop calling me that, he doesn't know what it does to me.'
Washington breathes slowly, Alexander so tantalisingly close and his free mind running unshackled.
"Sir, then can I-"
"Alexander!"
Alex shudders at that, just George raising his voice is enough for him to flinch.
"Your work," George breathes and softens his face, "is not as important as your health or your rest."
'Why do you care so much?'
Washington steps backwards, shock disguised as indifference.
"I care about my most dutiful aide, loyal soldier and trusted friend. I very much do not want to see him worn into dust by his own foolishness."
Hamilton sighs, looks down at the swept ground before talking.
"As always, you are very correct sir. I apologise for my insolence."
"It is quite alright Hamilton, do not be so concerned about offending-"
'I apologise for loving you.'
Hamilton is still staring at the ground, and Washington releases a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"...about offending me by going to bed before your commander."
Alexander finally looks up, gives George a small smile before turning away to collect his papers together.
"Thank you sir, your compliments are worth more to me than any other man."
"There are also facts Hamilton, don't forget it. You are not some scout who can be replaced at a moments notice. I hope you realise I choose my staff carefully."
Hamilton laughs and nods to Washington, the tension in the room dissolving like sugar into rosewater.
"Then I bid you goodnight sir, 'til tomorrow ."
Alexander bows, and turns to exit the tent.
"Until tomorrow Alex."
It's only until the rustling fabric is still and the sounds of he night fill the air that Washington breaks the facade. Placing the stone on his desk, concealed in a drawer, his hands numb from how he grasped it.
The darkness that envelopes him after the trailing skeins of smoke from his extinguished candle let him think, think for once in his now too empty bed.
The next day, Washington planned for another experiment. Like the witch had warned, he didn't expect the stones power to last long, and to make the most efficient use of it would be wise. As Washington pulled on his stiff coat the tinge of coolness from the stone permeated through the fabric in his pocket.
The moment he stepped outside the world seemed to talk twice as much.
It hurt, the cacophony all at once, how some voices were blurred by their counterparts and others spoke twice as loud.
He flinched slightly, taking his hand out of his pocket to do his daily duties.
No Alexander today, George told himself, make use of what you have. No Alexander.
So instead Washington spoke to each of his men in high positions of command, to a few groups of soldiers when he passed by, even to the young stable boy who still refused to look up from the ground whenever he saddled his horse. And each one of them had that voice, something so distinct that spoke even while they were silent. Testing loyalty, it seems, is easier when your subjects don't even realise they're being tested.
"Bonjour! General, a moment if I may?"
Lafayette was beaming up at Washington as he stood by his horse, inspecting it for any signs of injury from its escape.
"Of course Lafayette, what do you need?"
Lafayette was so bright, like one of those flowers that bloom continuously despite sleet or hail. The man was so young, and the energy of youth was certainly not lost on him.
"I must ask mon General, you have been more active around camp today and I know of no victory or good news- actually more of the opposite, what has brought this apron you sir?"
"Perhaps a change in perspective, nothing else."
Lafayette frowned, his eyes still full with the thought of a challenge. He leaned forward a little and spoke quieter.
"You are not doubtful of your soldiers sir? If this is your way of seeming caring I can assure everyone of how much you work for this cause."
Damn him, Lafayette was too keen and too smart for any trick Washington could play.
"Perhaps I wonder sometimes, but it does not interfere with my hope for the future. Can you see that Lafayette?"
Carefully, Washington slid his hand back into his pocket, feeling the coldness between his fingers as Lafayette began to speak again.
"Yes sir, I do. Very much so."
It was like uncorking champagne, images of sun blushed fields with a foreign sky above it. A beautiful woman who seemed much brighter than the rest of her surroundings. A city with a rising sun beckoning over the horizon. Seeing France, and his version of the future, was like breathing in the hot summer air. Suffused with scents of flowers and fruit, almost overpowering to someone who didn't know such a charming Frenchman.
"I don't doubt your loyalties, I would much prefer to trust all I met instantly, but that can never be the case. Hopefully soon you can see the image of freedom you dream of- of France?"
Lafayette's eyebrows raised and he smiled even wider, Washington drew his hand away and smiled assured.
"Ah! I knew you must have guessed my hopes sir, I wish for the freedom of both my countries. To see the fields and towns of my home, but to celebrate the cities and mountains of my new home."
Someone outside the stables called out, and Lafayette quickly embraced Washington before turning to leave.
"I must go mon General, but remember what I said! At least we know some people who you cannot doubt!"
Lafayette winked at him, and Washington hid his concern as the man ran off into the groups of busy soldiers. He couldn't be talking about-
Hamilton.
And there he was, standing by himself looking out into the forest. His hair falling in waves out of his tie messily, almost begging for George to run his fingers through them.
He felt that coldness again in his pocket, that wondering. Could he listen to him all the way from here? With no chance of Alexander suspecting anything.
No, no Alexander today. He couldn't.
But he could.
It was faint at first, the iciness of the stone almost distracting him from the task at hand. However the words grew stronger, the image cleared the more George focused.
A beach. An oppressive heat. The setting sun hidden by clouds of dust kicked up by carts on the road.
'He would like it there. Warm and quiet, peaceful with the lapping waves.'
Washington stood confused, arm just gently outstretched on his horse as Alexander thought.
'He would like the warm water, better than the ice here anyway.'
Was Alexander thinking about-
Hamilton shook his head, straightening his coat and taking a final look at the view.
'I am a fool in thinking Washington would, could think of me like that.'
Alexander was thinking about him.
Last night had not been some escapade of the mind, weary thoughts forming hopeful sentences that Washington tucked away in his heart. Clearly Hamilton was having a conflict within himself, a turbulent current below the seemingly peaceful waves. For such a brilliant mind, it was bizarre he would have such doubts- never seeming to hold back from the nights that nickname him a 'tomcat'.
As Washington began to walk back to his tent, he stopped at the place Hamilton had paused. The tree line was dark- almost like ink blots on paper. And the sky was flush with a fading blue hue, the sun dripping below the forest like it would never been seen again. Candles were beginning to be lit, orange and gold spilling onto the wet grass from open tents- or campfires soaking the ground in such scarlet that it seemed the ground would be permanently coloured so. Hamilton was no where in sight when Washington walked past the other aides eating, when asked, they only sighed and pointed towards the Generals tent. George frowned, taking a spare plate of what seemed to be mutton and potato and something green he could not recognise. No wonder some of the men were passing around a flask of something strong. Thinking better of it, Washington took instead something from his own reserves, an apple and some strong oak biscuits. Smaller, but finer for someone who neglected to eat.
"Hamilton?"
It was much darker than he had anticipated, a newly lit candle not fully lighting up the inside of the tent. At first it was difficult to adjust his eyes, but there was Alexander- leaning over his desk again pen in hand.
"Working already? You do not need to be the author of every letter this army sends son."
Washington chuckled, placing the apple and biscuits by his hand. Alexander did not move from his spot, was not scratching his pen across the paper like usual. His breaths were heavy and slow, and worried Washington more than ever.
"Are you alright Alexander?"
Alex sighed, straightening up to face Washington. Smiling but not for one moment did that fool him.
"Yes sir, perhaps lost in thought, that's all. I think the darkness of these surroundings have perturbed me slightly."
"Hmm, I can see how," Washington walked around Hamiltons chair to his desk, rearranging the items there without any goal except to listen to his aide, "but do not neglect yourself at such a dire time. I would be happy to help you in anyway I can."
"In all due respects sir, while your concern is flattering I do not need it."
Alexander was still seated, tapping his fingers impatiently against the desk. Washington turned, raising an eyebrow and silently fiddled with the button on his pocket.
"What I mean is, I have gone far without aid from anyone and I am still alive aren't I? I do not need to be... coddled, protected like a child."
"Still alive by definition Hamilton, you need to eat and rest and talk to those who care."
Alexander shook his head, temper flaring up.
"I can manage by myself sir, I appreciate your help but I think I can last like the other soldiers here."
"Alexander, you are more than an ordinary soldier, do not throw away your position in vain."
Washington reached into his pocket, fingers just a hairs breadth away from the freezing stone. Hamilton just twisted more away from facing Washington as he spoke.
"At least soldiers can lead something, be recognised for their actions sir. Even you are not just confined to a desk!"
Washington began to speak harsher, anger simmering and rising to a boil.
"And you believe your work is not as valuable? That your are not satisfied with your imperative position at my side?"
'I will never be by your side.'
Hamiltons thoughts flooded through: frustration, inadequacy, longing and desperation, the man did not show it. Only an irate expression on his blushed face.
"I only wish that I could work with pride, and not have my welfare anyone else's concern!"
'I only want to make you proud.'
"Hamilton! You do not eat. You do not sleep. You write until your hand shakes and the ink has run dry. How is any of this not my concern?"
Alexander rose sharply, facing George now and looking up at him scowling.
"Since when did you care sir? Why does it matter?"
Washington almost shouted back, instead clenching his fist around the stone to check his anger. Speaking lowly instead.
"Ever since I first met you Alexander. When a plucky, headstrong youth walked into my room with such ambition that I hired you immediately. Does that sound uncaring to you?"
Hamilton fell silent, his frown melting as his breathing slowed. Unnaturally quiet for the boy.
"No sir, I apologise sir."
George placed his other hand on Hamiltons shoulder, feeling him tense under the contact as he spoke with gritted teeth.
"Never apologise for your doubts Hamilton, they are not the parts of your mind that led you here, to me."
Alexander was silent, and Washington released his grip a little only to find that he was leaning into him slightly.
'God forgive me, don't leave me with these thoughts sir'
"Alexander, speak your mind. What do you feel?"
"I feel..." Hamilton looked up at George though eyelashes, and Washington almost broke his carefully constructed facade just with that look, "I feel I would be led anywhere, if only it were by you sir."
George took in a breath, the words in his mind now only echoing what he was speaking.
"I must say this in only your confidence sir, but your affect on me has been greater than I believe I can tell- greater than most of the men who take pride in your attentions."
"Alex..."
George whispered, but Hamilton kept speaking, raindrops falling into showers.
"Your affections are not lost on me sir, I am not disgusted by them. If it was perhaps more proper, might believe I remember your fondness on nights where sleep is lost to me."
Washington released the stone, holding Alexander with both arms on his shoulders. This seemed to give the man strength, his body relaxing in Washingtons grip.
"I will truly say sir, it is an affliction of blessings that I may serve under you. My highest honour."
George stared at him deeply, watching Alexander seem concerned by the lack of response.
"I apologise if I seem impolite, I did not mean to-"
"Oh, Alexander"
George interrupted, then surging forward to press his lips against Hamiltons. Fool or not, he would relish this one moment where his arms were embracing Alexander's slim figure. His mouth on Alexander's. His chest pressed up on Alexander's body.
When they broke apart, George expected Alex to step away, but he just stood in a stupor while George breathed fresh air. Then, like a tidal wave, Alexander's eyes lit up and he heaved up to meet his lips again. Alexander opened his mouth, letting George explore and elicit trembles from Alexander. When they both grew lightheaded, George touched his fingers under Alex's chin to pull him upwards, and his beautiful neck was exposed to his careful touches. He nipped and bit along the line of his chin, untying the cravat to suck red marks into the hidden flesh. Alexander moaned and gasped against his ministrations, hands fluttering on George's sides in restless pleasure.
"Sir, how did you-"
Alexander gasped again, pushing George away from his neck for just a moment. He breathed deeply, refocusing while Washington stared hungrily for a meal he had so long denied.
"How did you know I felt this way?"
"Because I felt the same pain, the same want, for so long dear Alexander. Do not make me wait any longer when I can express to you in actions, rather than words, how strongly I feel."
"Then don't make me wait for it sir"