A/N: Hi! Thanks again for your support of the story! In particular, Minniemora, who as well as being a stunning writer, is an incredible friend to me! Thank you so so much, Krista, you don't know how much of an impact you have!
Gosh, we're almost half way through, and the babies still haven't gotten together! Never you fret, my children, Abbie's got it all under control! (Literally one of the best things about writing this is the ABSOLUTE DIZZYING POWER! I'm loving it XD) anyway, let's crack on!
Disclaimer: the great Lin Manuel Miranda and the rest of the Hamilton crew own all rights to the show while I, on the other hand, am a humble potato... with fingers and a kindle. watch out, my fellow mutant potatoes and I are coming to take over the world! (I did warm you I'm loving this power! jk on with the story!)
Chapter 11 - Summer 1798
The young woman was growing increasingly irate as she paced her father's office with a kind of palpable annoyance emitting from her every heavy step which her father rarely displayed. Her mood was to be expected - to an extent - however Aaron Burr had not anticipated such fervent protest from Theodosia for his actions from the night before, and he watched her with curiosity. If this is what happens to all young women as they grow older, I am relieved I have only one to be concerned over.
Not halting in her movement, unable to contain herself within the confines of one fixed position for even a second, Theo complained, "Father, you just demanded he leave, you didn't even give him a chance to explain or to apologise! How the hell do you expect him to prove himself a good person when you refuse to so much as give him the time of day to do so?"
"Theodosia, language," he reminded her mildly, concealing his amusement at her outburst: true, the unprecedented argumentative spurn from his little girl was so unexpected that it was humorous, yet he could not ignore the nagging feeling that there was more than the fact that she was growing up and growing bolder as she did so that was behind the intensity of her feelings.
"To hell with language!" She retorted, intentionally repeating the word she guessed he deemed inappropriate. "You can't profess to mind my uncivilized tongue when yours was so stern to my best friend."
"Yes, I can," Burr stated firmly, frowning now as her defiance grew the longer she remained thinking about her predicament. "Because I am your father and I am allowed to guide you in the correct way to behave. And before you say anything more," he interrupted saw she drew breath to argue further, "I would do exactly the same if you were my son. The plain fact of the matter is that it unnerves me how close you are to a young man who I am certain is bound to be as arrogant and thoughtless as Alexander Hamilton. I can manage seeing Hamilton at work, I can withstand the snide comments he publishes about me, I can brush off hearsay about what he says with regards to me as just that. But I cannot allow him, or an extension of his beliefs, to corrupt my own child." Or to hurt you, though I know my telling you how afraid I am for you would only be met with your insulted fury. He regretted he could not confess his deep worry, but she would never accept the distinct possibility that her beloved friend might harm her, and would be offended at the suggestion she was anything less than capable of handling her heart.
He spoke with sincerity, yet Theo apparently found something laughable in his speech, scoffing incredulously as she commented, "Do you have any idea how wrong you are?" Elaborating, she explained, "Philip is just as much Mrs Hamilton's son as Mr Hamilton's and is every bit as kind and respectful as she is, so I have no idea how he is meant to corrupt me when he is nothing if not polite." Well, polite and occasionally teasing, she remembered, though that was something she would keep to herself.
"Because breaking and entering is polite?" He checked, raising an eyebrow as he smiled gently, placing a hand on her shoulder to placate her. For a second she appeared ready to shrug him off and continue pacing. But, after a brief hesitation, she softened, relaxing enough to stand still and reveal the sadness her anger had worked so hard to conceal. Kindly, Burr tried to justify himself, "I know you want to see the best in him, because that is who you are. And as for me, I am the kind of person who is too determined to protect his daughter to permit anything which could ever risk harming her to ensue. Which, unfortunately, means I am exceptionally wary of young Mr Hamilton."
Sighing with only a trace of her true sorrow, she lamented, "You really don't need to be. I don't think you could ever find anyone as trusting or as kind."
"Be that as it may, you know the extent to which I will go to in order to avoid risks. And for the time being, that includes keeping you separated from him." A flush of pain dashed across her face, and he felt instantly guilty. But it was gone in a heartbeat, replaced with her former irritation, and she walked away without another word.
Theodosia herself had no idea why, on that particular morning, she had risen from her bed only to be immediately seized with the urge to argue the innocence of her best friend and to earn her father's forgiveness of him; perhaps it was that her sleep, however peaceful, had been filled with the flowing melodies from years ago paired to the evocative words of poetry which hung around her neck on a delicate chain, resting upon her heart, possibly where they seeped into her skin and began to run through her entire body. Or perhaps it was because when she awoke, her hand flew at once to the locket, and her beating heart seemed to race as she thought of Philip, who had given her a terrifying thrill of delight with his impromptu arrival.
Whatever had been the cause, even her passionate arguments had failed to persuade her father. Disheartened and thoroughly frustrated, she decided that if she was to be kept from speaking to him, she would write.
My dearest Philip,
What can I say? I am mortified by the way my father was so sharp and dismissive towards you upon our last meeting, and though you were not there to see it, I assure you I defended your honourable intentions to him today. Right now, as I sit to write to you and spill my heart onto a page, I have just returned from his office, where I insisted he should withdraw his unfair comments and reminded him of how kind and true a friend you are to me. Yet as you will realize when you receive a letter rather than a visit from myself in person, he was too stubborn for even my powers of persuasion to have any impact. In fact, worse than that is that he is now adamant that we should be kept apart! Could you imagine a more ironic scenario - the moment I learn you are supposedly barely a moment away from me, I am subsequently informed that I am forbidden to see you! Nothing could be so irritating, and I imagine the universe is laughing at our expense while it witnesses me tearing my hair out in frustration. Well, at least someone is laughing, though I know that person is neither you nor I. Who might have predicted your kindness would be rewarded with such an unworthy punishment? Certainly not I, for your poem is such an incredible creator of joy and deserves the highest praise, not solitary confinement for the recipient! Indeed, it is my one reminder that this separation can not be indefinite, for you would never allow it. And I, too, will do everything in my power to ensure it is as brief as possible. You have my word on that, Philip. Should anything occur to me, I will let you know as soon as I get an idea of how to reunite the two of us, and I am sure you will do the same. Otherwise, I suppose we will just have to wait and see how excruciatingly long it takes for my dear father to come to his senses!
Yours in the face of adversity,
Theodosia Burr
Truthfully, he had expected everything she spoke of to be so, and he was thankful enough that she was even able to write to him. He could envisage as he read the words the incredulous tone with which she would have spoken the words had she been capable of doing so, and even detected the hint of sadness her words had attempted to hide from him.
Though his actions had undeniable consequences, he would not bring himself to regret it: he had come through when it mattered most, and even if that was of little consolation to Theo when they were due to be separated, to him it was a small comfort.
And perhaps it will prove to Burr that I truly do care, he considered optimistically, before a second's pause allowed reality to set in. He laughed once at his own naivety, realizing before hope ever had a real chance to lift his spirits that, no, this will only be further evidence of how much of an untrustworthy scoundrel I am.
Though he laughed, there was no humour to be found, only a dull, aching pain in his chest which he had never noticed before. Since laying eyes on Theodosia for their all-too-brief meeting after months apart, he seemed to long for her company more than ever, and for no reason he could clarify - or rather, no reason he wanted to recognize.
He, like Theo, was confused by the emotions running riot inside him, and knew one thing only: Burr doesn't trust me because he doesn't trust my father.
I suppose I'd better talk to him about it.
Alexander Hamilton was hunched over the desk in his office, alone and muttering incoherencies as he wrote at a feverishly quick pace, eyes seeing nothing but the tip of his quill as endless words fell from it. There was no reply when Philip knocked, so he entered. Still Hamilton would not raise his gaze from the page, for he was oblivious to the company of his eldest son. Philip cleared his throat, announcing his presence in a more obvious way which finally caused a response, and Alexander's dark eyes flicked momentarily to the young man, lighting with hope before he recognized the figure and turned his attention back to the page. Such a reaction was not uncommon, so the boy allowed him a few seconds to finish his paragraph before his father set down his quill and leaned back, looking at Philip with something more than his previous marginal interest as he greeted, "Son. What is it?"
Taking that as an invitation to step further inside, Philip drew closer, admitting as he walked, "It's about Theodosia. And Mr Burr."
Hamilton grinned in anticipation as he asked, "How did she like your gift? You never told me what you got her. I didn't see you most of the day, and your bed was empty when I checked in on you last night." He raised an inquisitive, suggestive brow as he suggested, "Did Miss Burr deem it necessary to show the true extent of her gratitude? I bet Burr wasn't pleased..." He seemed certain he'd found the correct conclusion to explain how his son had made himself scarce the previous day judging by his crudely proud smirk, but he could not be more wrong.
Exasperated by his once role model's animalistic assumption, Philip explained, "You didn't see me all day because I was in my room, not hers. And as for being out of bed, I was finally delivering to her a locket complete with a poem which took most of yesterday to write. Nothing untoward occurred," he assured. It was his turn to smirk at his father's clear disappointment. Yet his amusement swiftly became melancholy as he revealed, "Even so, much like you, Mr Burr seems convinced that something did happen, or could happen if I so much as set eyes on her again, and that is what troubles me."
Alexander frowned, and ignored the issue his son had attempted to raise in favour of enquiring, "Why are you not more interested in the possibility of advancing your relationship with Miss Theodosia?"
"Because unlike you, I am interested in maintaining my friendship with a woman who I know for a fact is intelligent and interesting and so much more than a skirt rather than ruining what we share by being as reckless as you have been!" Philip snapped aggressively, defensive even to his father: he respected and loved him, of course he did, and that would never change; despite that, in the moments when Hamilton expressed the way his own actions could be ruled by raw urges, it angered the young man who'd witnessed so much pain as a result of that.
Taken aback, Hamilton was silent for a few seconds, before he sternly began, "Son, that tone is not -"
"I know, I know, it's disrespectful and inappropriate, but you are telling me to follow your path when it is that path itself which has created all of these problems between Theodosia and I. Mr Burr thinks you are incapable of treating any woman with respect, and seems absolutely certain that you could never raise a son who would deviate from the trail of your mistakes." He felt guilty even as the harsh words left his mouth, but he couldn't prevent his internal irritation reaching his father as he explained exactly what was so wrong.
A longer pause ensued as Hamilton considered a suitable response. He hadn't been expecting anything like that from his son, yet it made sense that sooner or later the boy would demand an explanation of the defamatory paper he himself had published, especially when the consequences effected his own love life, or "friendship", as Philip insisted on calling it. Rising above the urge to discipline a child's disrespect, he instead answered a young man's question. He couldn't quite meet those piercing hazel eyes as he replied, "I know you're struggling to move on. I know all of you are, your mother in particular. I'm sorry my actions have caused such difficulties for you, but you must understand it was never my intention to hurt this family." There was no excuse, as he was well aware as he rubbed his temple and lamented, "I was simply presented with a relief from the unbearable pressure I was under, and I was too weak to resist. It was a mistake, and I regret anyone ever had to find out what I did." An accusatory change of tone as he continued, "For that, Burr himself is partly responsible: only a handful of people knew, and within that group there were a few exceptionally untrustworthy men. I would not have published the paper had there not already been rumours made public, and if he and his comrades had simply honoured their word," here he grimaced, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists in frustration, "I would have been able to contain the pain of that publication within myself, allowing the guilt to torture my own mind rather than inflicting it on all of you." He winced, genuinely pained as he relived the awful decision in his mind, recalling the too-recent feeling of being hardly able to breathe as he sat alone at his desk, the crushing burden of choosing between his private and professional reputation, his family or himself consuming and tormenting him as he envisaged the three menacing figures who had brought him to that point looming over him, grinning in the knowledge that either way he chose, he could not win. But, he had noticed, at least the latter option would enable him to strike back at them, make them regret their attempt to cage a lion when he later lashed out and attacked.
His eyes took held the tumultuous storms of the Caribbean island from whence he came as he lost himself to the memories, and Philip felt compelled to interrupt his dark reverie, "Pops, it's okay. It's done now."
Alexander remained frozen until Philip stepped close enough to lay a reassuring hand on his father's shoulder, eliciting a shuddering gasp from the man as he returned to the present. He blinked the ghosts away from his vision and looked to the teenager. He agreed, "Regrettably, it is done. And you know I'd do anything to change that, but I am incapable."
Sadly, Philip nodded. "Mom will forgive you one day, I know she will. You're meant to work as a unit, not two divided fractions."
"I can only hope," Hamilton replied, his eyes regaining the beginnings of the familiar haunted look they so often took when he thought of all he had lost. Refusing to allow it to settle this time, he briskly soldiered on, "There may yet be a way to make Burr see sense. Clearly you are smart enough to avoid my pitfalls, and I will tell him as much."
The boy smiled, grateful not just for the offer, but for the fact that his father had been honest with him: not that he doubted it, and not that he wouldn't continue to be irritated by thoughtless comments, but it was obvious to him that Alexander viewed the past with nothing but regret, and the future with a solid determination to make amends.
I only hope he finds success with Burr.
"Sir!" Hamilton called to the man as he saw him strolling along the path towards his front door. He couldn't quite tell for certain, but it seemed there was a miniscule increase in Burr's pace as he tried to reach the threshold of his front door and escape the approaching party. But Hamilton had set his mind against causing conflict and elected to ignore it. He jogged to reach Aaron, walking alongside him until to go any further would be to enter the house. Unwilling to let that happen, Burr halted and turned to face him.
"Yes, Alexander?" He smiled, and it was friendly enough almost to pass as real - but not quite. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, not wanting to even think about the many reasons which might cause the younger man to seek him out and leaving him to explain for himself.
"Sir, I think it's imperative we should talk. You see there's a rather pressing matter facing both of our families, and for the benefit of our children, the future of our nation and the embodiment of our pride and hope, I think we ought to discuss it." Aaron began to suspect his next words, and was not surprised when his next sentence started with the name of his rival's eldest child: "Philip has told me of the impediment you have put in place with regards to his relationship with your daughter."
His opponent's eyes narrowed at that choice of words, though his smile remained in tact as he justified, "I am well within reason to protest to any young man who deems himself worthy of pursuing Miss Burr's affections. I'm sure you will be exactly the same the moment interest is expressed in your own daughter."
"Certainly, but I would not deny a young man who insisted he only had innocent intentions the opportunity to so much as visit," he answered without allowing even a heartbeat of lull in the conversation. Whether that would actually emerge to be true was debatable, but he would say so if it earned his son the right to fulfil his wishes.
Burr was dubious, "You have no idea how you would handle my current situation, and knowing your temper, I doubt you'd be as calm as you claim if your daughter was chased by a boy you had little faith in."
"Perhaps not, if and only if it was some young fool obsessed with using my Angelica and proceeding to toss her aside," he admitted, "But you know as well as I do that my son has hardly abandoned Theodosia, rather he has worked with dedication to maintain their friendship for years. And for some reason I can't comprehend, that is all he wants to continue to do now, too."
Burr chuckled, and for the briefest of seconds Hamilton dared to hope the man would clap a hand on his back and submit, laughing off their disagreement. Yet it quickly became apparent that Burr had other ideas, and his voice was almost patronizing as he explained, "The very fact that you can't comprehend a platonic relationship between them is what makes me so apprehensive about Philip's interest in Miss Burr. Tell me honestly, Alexander... Would you ever trust a man like yourself around your daughter, regardless of what he told you about himself?"
Hamilton frowned, jaw clenching as he replied, "That's not a fair question, I'm hardly a prime example -"
"Please Alexander, answer my question."
The other man took a deep breath, preparing himself to squeeze out his response and his excuses as quickly as possible before Burr had a chance to judge him: "No, but you needn't worry because Philip is not like me."
"Really?" Aaron checked, bemused.
"Yes, actually," Hamilton insisted, beginning to allow his frustration to make itself obvious. "He is sensible, like his mother."
Burr nodded, sombre. "I don't doubt he has inherited some of Eliza's good qualities. But I know for a fact that, though he may not naturally be inclined to share your thoughts, he wants to be." Hamilton said nothing, only waited for Burr to explain himself, and how exactly he came to know so much more about Philip's character than the boy's own father. Reluctantly, he recalled, "Philip admires you. He aspires to be like you, and I know one thing you've passed on to him is your unwavering determination to reach your goals. So even if he is polite enough now, I am certain that he will not be in the future."
Burr began to turn away and open his front door, before Hamilton's anger burst forward in the accusation, "You've never been certain of anything. Why this, why specifically choosing something that will hurt me and my family? It's like when you directly challenged my father in law for the Senator seat, only this time you can't tell me it's just a career opportunity. You're deliberately seeking ways to damage my family, and I want to know why." He barked the command like he would have done in his days as a General, ordering his troops. But Burr had been a soldier himself, and was not to be easily instructed.
Calmly, he responded, "Yet again, you're ridiculous pride is astounding; as I told you at the time, the Senator position wasn't personal. However, you're right when you say this is. Not because I want to hurt you, or even your boy. But because if there is one exception to my patience, it is that I will not wait around for the only joy in my life to be inevitably hurt!" His genial facade completely vanished, Burr slammed the door behind him before Hamilton could utter another word.
It echoed with an ominous sense of finality, seemingly confirming that no Hamilton would ever be welcomed across that boundary again.
A/N me again! Philip loves his dad, he's just very frustrated with him too... that won't stop him admiring all Alexander's achievements, though! And I hate that Theo's arguing with Burr, and he's all like "is this puberty? What? The? Heck? Is? Happening? To? My? Baby?"... But she still adores him, she's just very defensive of her "friend".
Thanks so much for reading!
