A/N: This is a random, sort-of-fluffy kind-of-gay thing I wrote in the span of 30 minutes. I wanted to write something with King George and Samuel Seabury, and this sort of formed itself from the black hole in my imagination, and it's kid of partly inspired by 'What Comes Next?' on the soundtrack. It's probably terrible, but enjoy anyway.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton. It belongs to Lin-Manuel Miranda.

King George William Frederick the Third was mad. VERY mad. His whole world was falling apart around him, and it was all George Washington's fault.

Ever since Washington and his puny little Continental Army had won the Battle of Yorktown, George's life had been hell. He lost thirteen colonies, he was at war with France and Spain, and the economy was in ruins. He had gotten little sleep, and he had aged tremendously.

"UUUUGGHH! Why must it be me?!" he angrily asked the universe aloud as he sat on his throne.

"My lord? Are you alright?" asked Samuel Seabury, who was walking through the throne room where George resided with papers in hand. He had become an advisor to George after fleeing America during the Revolution. He had been an outspoken supporter of George, and he was secretly grateful for that.

"Of course not, Samuel. I'm going to be seen as the worst monarch in British history." the king said, and he started to cry. He didn't want Samuel to see him like this, but he couldn't hold it back.

Samuel rushed to his side. He kneeled down beside his throne and grasped the king's hand. "You are the GREATEST monarch in British history, Your Majesty. No one else even comes close."

"R-really? You think so?" George sniffed and stared into his advisor's brown eyes.

"I know so. Those damn "Americans" wouldn't know a great leader if they were blasted with a cannon." Samuel rose up and opened his arms, inviting the king in for a hug.

George looked around, making sure that no one else was in the room, before rising from his throne. His large fur cape rose with him, so he untied it so it fell away onto his throne. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around Samuel. He felt his advisor's arms squeeze him gently, making him relax. He gave in to the hug, and dropped his shoulders down, which had been hunched from stress.

They held the hug for a solid three minutes before Samuel pulled out. He looked George point-blank in the eyes. He smiled, still holding his king's hand. George smiled back.

"Now, let's get back to work. We've got a war to win."