Alexander Hamilton had always known he was going to do great things or die trying. Still, he didn't expect to get plays made in his name. Or to be kidnapped by a mad witch from the future and made to watch said play with no chance of escape. Yet, there he was.
None of the shirts he is packing look like they will survive the harsh way he's thrown them in his satchel. Through the bitter haze in his head he acknowledges that he is behaving like a petulant child, yet he's tired, cold, hungry and most of all, outraged. He's finding it difficult to care after being forced to leave the life he'd built for himself here. His hard-fought opportunity for a chance at glory, his reason for thriving-
Eliza's face flitted through his mind for a second, smiling and beckoning him forward, filling his chest with warmth. He remembered the calm and contentment he'd felt with her, but the memory was distant, like a dream, so unreal while away. Yet, he knew the second he returned to her, he would feel it again. Would want to give her the world, and all she asked was for him. But, he wouldn't leave this place. Couldn't, really. Not with his comrades-in-arms, his glory and John still there.
He could ride into the fray regardless. Turn the tide. It would put him at risk, and if he failed he could kiss his position in the army goodbye.
The thought of not doing anything clawed and crawled inside his head and set free a storm of restless energy he's not sure he could contain.
He realized with a jolt he'd been folding and refolding a single pair of breeches for the past minute.
(He also realized he couldn't bring himself to disobey George's orders.)
He felt a shiver run down his spine. Gelid fog touched his skin and it couldn't have been more alike to what he was feeli-
Wait.
Fog?
It shouldn't be this thick, not inside the tent, and was it moving like tentacles, moving and it began climbing the walls, what-
And then it was gone.
Along with everything else in his tent.
He was in a foreign room, decorated sparsely. Everything in it appeared to be of high quality, but any sense of luxury was marred by how everything looked vaguely familiar and profoundly foreign. At the same time. (He didn't think that was possible)
To his right, a group of comfortable black chairs and plumped couches faced a bare wall. (There wasn't enough room to make a speech, much less to put anything there. Why were they there?)
To his left a dark brown dining table, covered in a green tablecloth almost insulting in its simplicity. A row of cabinets composed the background for the rest, some of them bare of handles.
Further examination was interrupted by a sharp gasp beside the table. He caught a few wisps of the fog before he recognized Laurens' face. It was only natural to rush to him and steady him.
"Alexander, what-" He cut him off by means of an embrace, leaning forward to whisper in his ear:
"My dear John, it appears we are trapped in a wealthy man's living room. Be on your guard."
Laurens snaps into the tense awareness of battle, pushing away the confusion and vague sense of dread creeping up behind them almost instinctively. If they could convince themselves this was just another battle, they would be fine. He hoped.
"Are we armed?" Lauren's asks, and they both step away, whirling around to cover each other's backs and disguise the twitch of a hand to a gun handle.
The weapon was thankfully there.
"How long have you been here, Alexander?"
"Not much longer than you, I'm afraid. If that is for good or ill remains to be seen"
A startled shriek rises from behind a row of chairs, the eerie fog fleeing from the folds of a dress. And unmistakable long black hair.
"Betsey!" Alexander rushed to her side, eyes wide and disbelieving. Nevertheless he engulfed her in a hug, and drew her to her feet.
"Alexander?" She returned the hug, a perplexed smile blooming in her face. "Am I dreaming?"
"If you are, you are not alone in this absurd experience, my dear Betsy"
John fidgets behind him, the reason obvious. No man would be comfortable witnessing his lover's reunion with his wife.
"Mr. Laurens?" Eliza asks, stepping away and smoothing out her dress in a quick and practiced motion. "I hadn't seen you there, good sir. Forgive my mistake"
Alexander laughs and circles her shoulders with his own arm, basking in her warmth for a second.
"It is a pleasure to see you, Mrs. Hamilton"
Laurens greets, scrupulously polite, exactly the way he'd been taught his whole life to do. That didn't bode well at all.
"I agree" Eliza replies, executing a courtesy as if this were a formal party and not the furthest thing from one.
Alexander could not for a second understand all the emotions rolling around in his chest. Both of his loves, in the same room greeting each other like comfortable acquaintances. It was like before battle, wild excitement and intrigue of what his fortune would be. It could either fall for unadulterated joy or crushing grief, neither free of the other.
No. A battle would be fierce, fast and merciless. No room to stop and think, only do. This was agonizingly delicate, ripe with opportunities for his mind to sabotage itself and lose two of the people he held dearest in his life.
"John, a moment, please? I must inform Betsy of the situation at hand." John nods and stands alert a few feet away, pointedly looking at the wall.
"My dear Betsy, I am afraid I haven't go the slightest clue where we are. Yet, this room appears to be the most luxurious prison ever imagined"
Eliza's eyes widen, a gasp springing from her lips. Alexander's heart gives a sharp tug, for her beautiful face should never be tainted with such fear. Yet in their current situation there was little more than words to comfort her.
Fortunately for him, he did always have a way with words.
"We are not in grave trouble at the moment. No man would ever spend so much in a prison if he did not intend to keep his captives alive and well. We appear to be of some importance."
Recognition flits through her eyes before she nods, no longer close to a panic, but far from calm.
He knew trying to completely squash her nerves would be inadvisable, as the situation at hand was too dire for such a move, as loathe he was too see her so strung. He had already taken a gamble by using an argument that would have worked on a soldier, but could have backfired disastrously on a woman, their emotions so sensitive and evident. The gamble paid off, though he did note he was having some difficulty stepping out of the soldier's mindset. The situation was already leaving him off kilter, and that had to be remedied.
Before he could enact his resolve, a thump came from near the cabinets. This time it was a pair of forms that shook off the effects of such an unorthodox form of travel.
"Hercules! Lafayette!" John, exclaimed and rushed to their aid, Alexander reaching them both just as Hercules belted
"What in god's name is-" and half-wobbled to his feet, a pair of scissors in his hands.
"What is all this!" Said Lafayette in English, to everyone's relief.
"We don't know Laf. We are in the dark in this matter."
Hercules switched his grip on the scissors. Lafayette plastered a relaxed smile on his face, the same one he used to fool Lords at court.
"We haven't been long here." John tapped a foot against the floor, impatient but ready. "Any clues as to how we could get out of here?"
"Betsy, stay here." Alexander commanded, and whirled to inspect the far wall. He could only register the lack of windows for a second.
This time the thump came from behind the chairs, in a bundle of colorful cloth.
"Angelica? Peggy!" Eliza ran as best she could, burdened by her dress, and helping both her sisters to her feet.
Angelica flung herself into her sister's arms. Eliza tightened the hug, and made room for Peggy as she completed the trio.
"The Schuyler Sisters, we meet once again" Said Alexander mock theatrically, sparing them all a fond look.
"Good Heavens, Alex! It is a relief to see you. We have all been awaiting your return! Peggy flew over to him, mischievousness twinkling in her eyes. "You have yet to tell me how you managed to trick the-"
"It is with most profound delight I will tell you Peggy, when there are less critical ears present. My method works best when nobody knows it, and I can trust you to keep a secret like that safe. You will, won't you?" Alexander stage-whispered, a crooked smile playing on his lips.
"You doubt of my trustworthiness? How shameful, Alexander" And she proceeded to turn up her nose and huff disdainfully. Such a perfect performance was ruined by the smile wrestling to break free from her lips.
A chair toppled, and yet another figure arose from the mist. This time however it was landed the right way instead of being forced to stumble. He stopped commenting on their good luck when he noticed who it was.
"Aaron Burr, sir?" The person in question fixed his cravat before greeting them with an amiable and perfectly fake smile.
"Alexander? May I ask the reason to this... gathering?" He still kept on smiling, even as he tensed and surveyed the room in flickers.
"I must say, Mr. Burr, I haven't got the slightest idea" Burr blinked, and that was it, content to act as if all this was nothing out of the ordinary. He must be as confused as everyone else he yet refused to show it, and that was infuriating. Nobody here was his enemy, so why bother concealing how he felt?
A solid thump came from the far wall behind the chairs, and a towering figure rose, already alert to the situation. Alexander stood on straighter, almost as if by instinct, and the same niggling thought informed him that all his comrades-in-arms did so as well.
"Your Excellency?" Burr and Alexander said at the exact same moment. Alexander shot Burr a strange look, and he motioned for Alexander to go ahead.
Nevertheless, Alexander strode forward, trying hard to pretend as if what had transpired a mere hour ago didn't happen at all, silently sending the message to His Excellency to do so as well. "Permission to speak my mind, sir"
"Go ahead, Lieutenant Colonel" The lack of "son" was both an agreement and an acknowledgment of the facts. He could make do with that.
He breathed in. "It appears we have been transported by mist into a luxurious closed-off room. There are no obvious doors or windows, yet the air does not taste stale. There are no candles in sight, yet the whole room is illuminated. All furniture is of good, even outstanding quality, yet the design is...eerie in nature. All this points that we are experiencing something sinister"
The little confidence that he had gained by being surrounded by those who cared about him fled as if being chased by the Devil. Considering the circumstances, that might not be a remote possibility.
"Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel"
Hamilton couldn't have thought possible for His Excellency's face to become even stonier, but here he was. With the benefit of knowing George better than most, he knew that he was... no, not nervous, that would be preposterous, but on edge.
He knew orders were coming now, and he set himself up for springing into motion.
"Welcome!"
The sound comes from the wall the chairs are facing. The blank wall, is no more, as a portrait of a young, smiling girl (?) stands in its place.
"Please remain calm" Says the portrait.
The calm shatters.
Alexander takes his pistol and aims, but he fumbles with it once he realizes it is too light in his hands. It is empty, for god's' sake! John fires off a curse, and that must mean he is in the same position as himself. Mulligan is brandishing the scissors, the Schuyler Sisters behind his back. Lafayette picks up a chair, and gets ready to throw it.
"Stand back!" Orders Washington and after it follows a tense moment of silence, where both parties survey each other.
The portrait is without a doubt startled, but not frightened, as its expression shifts into annoyance. "Please don't damage the chairs, those were difficult to find"
It seems to notice the state of the occupants in the room and takes a deep breath.
"I understand this is confusing to all of you, but I have to say that I mean you no harm."
Details have finally started to reach Alexander's mind. The portrait only depicts a bust of the figure, who cannot be more than 20. The attire, the only part that can be seen from it, is a plain blue shirt. The hair is not long enough to be a woman's yet not short enough to be a man's.
"What the devil are you?!" Strikes out John's voice, taking a reckless step forward.
"I am someone who comes from the year 2017" She stops, looking intently at their reactions with an impish grin.
Is she taking pleasure in confusing them all? Because the amount of astonishment showing in everyone's faces would be the equivalent of lifelong happiness as of now.
"You know what? I'll spit it out"
(She seems to be talking to herself, but it at this point Alexander won't rule out the possibility she's talking to another portrait)
"In my time, a man named Lin-Manuel Miranda decided to create a musical based on a biography of one of the founders of his country. I liked it so much, I decided to see what the people who were in it would say about it!" She announces.
Alexander is seconds away from bursting into an impressive rant.
"Very well then. That explanation seems nonsensical enough to fit the situation"
Eliza jumped, almost surprised at herself for having said it aloud.
The picture laughed, beaming at Eliza in a way that didn't sit right with Alexander. Then her eyes widened.
"I forgot to tell you all my name! Well, my name is Elliot, and I've still got a few things to say before I leave you all on your own, got it?"
Alexander nods and tries to shake the sensation of being caught in a dream, and fails.
"As I said, we'll be watching a musical, song by song. After each song all of you can choose if you want time to discuss the events of the song and ask me questions about it or just move on.
Between the two acts you will have a longer break to talk, rest, eat and discuss the future in a bit more detail.
I'll be pulling in more people from time to time, so be ready to say hi an explain what is going on!
I hope this will never happen but, if any of you fight each other I will act, understood?"
The picture she painted (what an awful play on words) was one that made Alexander almost burst out laughing with the sheer ridiculousness of it. A young girl (he's assuming she's a girl), trying and failing to look intimidating, was threatening not one, but six soldiers, one of whom was George Washington. It was like watching a kitten hiss at a pack of wolves.
Then he remembered that she'd yanked people from 200 years ago by witchcraft and was going to force them to watch a musical for her own entertainment.
"Please, take a seat"
"Ladies first" Alexander interjects, stepping aside so that Eliza could get a first-row seat. He basks in the rightness of sitting beside her.
John starts moving, most likely to try and get the seat behind Alexander.
Hamilton gestures to him, points at the seat and raises an eyebrow, silently asking 'Will you sit with me, my dear Laurens?' John's lips turn into a line, and he can't hide the flicker of his eyes toward Eliza, nor the aborted motion of his feet to comply. 'Did you think this through, Alexander?' Laurens asks back. Hamilton does his best impression of a puppy. John rolls his eyes and goes to sit at his left.
Lafayette spares Alex a fond look and, after helping the remaining Schuyler Sisters sit together, goes to the seat John had previously thought to take. Hercules laughs and takes the seat beside Lafayette, while his Excellency takes the other side. Burr chooses the one behind Peggy, right next to Hercules.
That was... odd. He'd expected Burr to take the free seat beside Angelica. Then Alexander remembered that he now had Theodosia, and no longer had any interest in the Schuylers at all.
(He couldn't help the pang of jealousy. Not at Burr or Theodosia, but at the fact that once he found her, nobody else seemed to sway him away from her anymore. He thought after he found Eliza that he could do the same, stick only to her and John. But Angelica was so very charming. And there was André. He knew his… proclivities were going to hurt someone eventually, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Might as well enjoy them in the meantime.)
"Alright! Let's begin!"
She spread out her hands, the wall behind her going dark. She turned into white fog, disappearing from view.
The lights dimmed.