Chapter 9: Reunion

December 28, 1780

They set off after a day's rest for the soldiers. Genevieve rented a room in a motel where she wrote a letter to her parents and the Schuylers. She had told them where she was going before she left but the brunette thought she should tell them where she was now - that she was going to set off for Valley Forge in the morning. She knew it would take around five days to arrive to George Washington's camp and that the winter was getting increasingly more harsh, evident by the trees snapping and branches nearly falling on people from the wind.

Waking at the crack of dawn, she descended the stairs and checked out, bringing her belongings with her in a pack that could rest behind her horse's saddle. Untying her horse from his post, she fed him a few apples and he nickered, nudging her shoulder for more. "I'll get you some oats soon," she promised and rubbed his nose. He snorted against her palm but allowed her to mount him anyway. Nudging his sides, they set off at a trot to the post office where she dropped off her letter before heading for the corner store. Casting a weary glance around her, she pondered on whether or not she should bring her bag.

Deciding to just in case, she slung it over her shoulder and went into the store. The goods were relatively low priced but many things that were going out of stock - the food - were higher than what she thought she could pay. Looking down the aisles, she found where the sack of oats were, the clinking of the British currency in her pocket taking the edge off her worries. Hoisting a bag over her shoulder, she went to the counter and paid for it as quickly as she could. The owner wasn't suspicious when she fumbled with the coins or her high voice but she felt like many customers stares burned into her back. It took all of her so that she didn't run.

Mounting her horse after making sure everything was in place, she began to set off for the warehouse near the harbor where the French army was lodging. Once there, she saw Rochambeau already up and ready, the French behind him. "Prêt?" When she didn't understand, he scrambled for the right word.

"I'm ready, sir." She said, hazarding a guess. He smiled and soldiers began rallying behind them as they began their way to Valley Forge.

January 5, 1781

They were almost there. Genevieve could feel it in her bones as she rode beside Rochambeau. Her horse huffed and tossed his head towards Rochambeau's black steed who snorted back. Morale was high as they sang a song in French behind them, the comte joining in occasionally. Genevieve relished their enthusiasm - refreshing as it was - as they continued to ride. The snow was soft, a sight as rare as a blue moon, and the wind gently swept through her hair as she looked up. Despite the 'winter wonderland' like weather, the sky was not blue and the sun was hidden by the dark clouds. The days were getting shorter.

Taking a momentary break, she dismounted and rubbed her sore thighs as the men took out their portions of food. Letting her horse roam, she just listened to the mindless talk behind her and crunch of snow. Taking out a few dried cuts of meat, she walked a few meters away as she ate. Crouching down, she brushed her hand against the snow before straightening, the flakes melting quicker than a needle disappearing in a haystack.

"C'est beau, non?" Turning around, she saw a nameless soldier approach her. He seemed kind enough and she saw the comte talk to him a few times before.

"Oui." She agreed in her limited French, crossing her arms and watching the snow. He stood beside her and she was acutely aware of that. "Is there something you want?"

"Non. I am just admiring the view," he was not nearly as smooth as he thought he was. Shrugging her sleeves so she could pull them to cover her cold hands, she scuffed her boot against the ground. "Je m'appelle Louis-Philippe." She looked up at him and cocked her head.

"Nice to meet you." The brunette responded, "Genevieve Alcott."

"We all know you." He explained with an easy smile and she nodded. Obviously, she thought dully as Rochambeau called her over.

"The Major General is calling me," she excused and the soldier nodded. "Sir?" She inquired as soon as she approached the Frenchman. He chuckled and looked over her shoulder. Turning, she felt a hand on her wrist and turned back. His golden eyes pierced hers, crinkling at the edges.

"Do not look. Louis is still watching." His face was schooled into a serious expression but there was a glint of amusement. "I overheard what he had said to his friends over there." There was a sharp jerk in the direction where a few young men were gathered, snickering to themselves. Getting the idea, she scowled.

"Should I announce to everyone in the camp that I'm not interested?" She asked with irritation and he laughed.

"No worry. They will stay away - Louis is one of the bolder ones. Cocky as well."

"A terrible combination," she agreed as he patted her on the shoulder. Glancing at the sky, she tried to determine what time it was. "Do you think we should go?"

"Oui." Turning to his men, he shouted orders in French as she whistled her horse over. He raised his head from where he was grazing under a tree and trotted over, white mark under his neck flashing as he tossed his mane. Scratching under his chin, she glanced amusedly at the stallion before mounting him quickly. Glancing at the Major General, she waited for his signal as he mounted his black steed. At his nod, they began to set off on the path for Valley Forge.

"How much longer, do you think?"

"I thought you would know." Keeping her eyes ahead, she shrugged.

"I'm not familiar with this area but if I could guess - by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

"That would be good." Her mind could almost picture Lafayette, his dark eyes alight with life and warm arms around her as he embraced her again. But the winter was harsh - still was - and…

What if he didn't even survive?

No, she couldn't think of such thoughts. He was alive, he would survive. Digging her heels into her mount, she felt the wind pick up around her as he began at a trot to scout ahead. Breathing in the stinging cold wind, she felt her lungs burn and heart race. He is alive. Stay alive.

January 6, 1781

The army woke at the crack of dawn, ready to leave immediately as they began to march the rest of the way to the encampment. This time, she rode among the other soldiers, chatting as much as she could with their various ranges of English. She learnt many of their names, too many to count, and their families waiting for them at home. As they began to ascend a hill, she was suddenly aware of Louis riding beside her. "Bonjour." Some men don't quit. She thought and rolled her eyes inconspicuously.

"Morning," she greeted politely as she could. The weak sun's rays made the snow shine like crystals, untouched by man and horse alike. Despite her urges to just enjoy the sight, the frost-sharp wind and bitter sky showed that they didn't have time to lose. Instead, she gently nudged her horse's side to speed up into a trot. "How are you?"

"Bien. Et toi?"

"Fine." His eyes scanned her figure and she managed to hold back a scowl. The summit was just within reach, perhaps a few more minutes. Her horse snorted as if he didn't like the soldier either. She chuckled and scratched behind his ears as a soldier riding up ahead screamed something in French. She only understood Washington but she can guess what he had said as they began streaming down the hill, a thundering of cheers and hooves storming down the hill.

.

Lafayette woke up with a start as John grinned at his expression. His lungs gasped for air, scratching his throat as he tried to ignore the squirming, hollow feeling in his gut. "Get up, Lancelot. The French are coming," his foggy mind barely registered the words as he took John's proffered hand to help him up. His fingers felt brittle as he held onto his friend's hand and blinked blearily.

"Que?" He felt his joints crack and the cold, wearing his bones down, cut into him repeatedly but whatever he was about to say was shadowed by the loud rumbling. "What is that?"

"The French," John repeated and they began to make their way to the entrance of the encampment where George was already waiting. There was a large crowd on horses galloping towards them. Many soldiers were brightened with renewed courage as a chestnut steed lead the pack. The rider wasn't wearing the French colors, instead the Continental Army uniform. Lafayette blinked repeatedly as they came closer, unsure if he was hallucinating to hunger and the cold. Rochambeau rode equally as fast beside the soldier, black steed stark against the white snow.

There were cheers as the French poured into the camp. His eyes followed the Continental Army soldier as she lead her horse along the comte. Washington looked up at them and the navy-clad soldier dismounted. "George Washington," she offered a hand to shake and the General raised his eyebrows.

"Oliver Smith. Though, I suppose that isn't the case anymore." Lafayette heard him say as the soldiers around him, malnourished and hungry began to socialize with the new soldiers. He made his way over to Washington, Alexander and John at his side.

"I guess not," the woman affirmed quietly and she raised her chin, "Genevieve Alcott."

"I'll request to see you later, then." She swallowed nervously and nodded.

"Of course, sir."

"Washington, do you know what this woman has done?" Rochambeau cut in and the tall man looked over at the shorter one. Washington lead Rochambeau away towards his cabin and Genevieve turned to watch them. Lafayette took another hesitant step, warmer than he had been in weeks. Her green eyes were full of uncertainty and she took a half-conscious step back towards Rochambeau's retreating figure when she realized that they were closer than she had anticipated before dragging her gaze to John and Alexander.

"Genny," Alexander opened his arms but she didn't immediately go into his embrace. "I didn't know you were a soldier - didn't you trust me?" He didn't sound particularly offended, a teasing glint in his eyes. John snorted and nudged his friend in the ribs. Flinching, Alexander pushed John away from him jokingly. Lafayette's tongue was twisted, unable to join in with the camaraderie. There was nothing to say.

"Is it smarter to tell the truth or to hide it? I didn't know you, remember?" She tried to take on a joking tone as well but it didn't work and her eyes flickered down to her shoes. "Eliza sends her love."

"Not a day has passed where I don't think of her," he promised. "Come on, John and I'll show you where you're gonna sleep. With us, obviously." The two turned but she was stood in her spot. Her eyes flickered back to Lafayette, eyes scanning her face.

"Lafayette," she mumbled quietly. Her hand twitched as if she were about to reach out for him but stopped herself in time. Instead, it balled into a fist and she just sighed. "I'm sorry." The brunette said instead. His dark eyes met hers. There was maybe a slight ounce of regret but pride overtook any and all of it. He knew she didn't regret what she did. And neither did he.

"How?" He rasped and she tried to smile but it came off as a grimace. He knew the feeling well. A smile unpracticed was not a welcomed feeling.

"Thank Philip Schuyler," her head tilted just so and he would've kissed her if he could. If his mind could just let him. "All it took was a distraction." This time, the smile came more naturally but it was more of a moment unable to be framed - too quick to be sure if it even happened.

"Genny, come on!" Her eyes drifted over his shoulder and she nodded firmly. Reaching out for his arm, she held onto his bicep. When he began to pull away, instead, her hand caught his. Clasping it, she squeezed it to get his attention. Again, his eyes met hers, but this time, they showed no pride, only apologies and unconditional love. One that said, I'll be okay.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to find the right words to say, before: "I love you."

"I know." He did. He wanted to say he did too but the words caught in the back of his throat. He blamed it on the dry winter air.

"Then... if you can't forgive me, then just know that." With one last final glance, she trudged past him in the snow and made her way towards John and Alexander.

February 25, 1781

She shifted on her cot and opened her eyes, sleep evading her. Sitting up, she tried not to make any sound when she heard Louis shift on the other side of the tent. By now, they'd built a hospital-like cabin for the sick and enough to house most of the officers. That didn't stop the four of them from taking nights between outside and the warm cabin. Tonight, she was outside with Louis while Lafayette, Alexander and John shared a cabin.

There was still a silence, a rather long one. While their interactions with John and Alexander were friendly, whenever one was to face the other, the former lovers barely spoke a word. They were never in a room together alone. Her heart ached every day he didn't speak to her - only a few glances. It's my fault. It's my fault. She told herself - the cold shoulder on his side was warranted. Alexander and John did their best to fix it but had long since given up when one of their attempts consisting of trying to leave the two alone on a patrol had ended with John nipped at by Genevieve's horse.

Snores filled the tent and she slipped on her boots, careful not to disturb anyone's belongings as she wrapped her coat around her tightly and stepped outside. Letting out a shaky breath, she saw her breath puff out in front of her and made her way to her friends' tent. Her boots crunched in the snow but the wind covered her steps. The camp was quiet, hauntingly so. Dark clouds covered the sky but she could catch a glimpse of the moon, still glowing radiantly. Finding her friends' cabin, she walked up to it, hoping to catch Alexander awake at the desk. He had promised to write a letter to Eliza earlier that day.

Opening the door quietly, she winced when it creaked. Warm air brushed against her face as she slipped in, closing it again. It was completely dark save for the lit candle in the back corner. Shapes on the cots didn't move at her entrance and she barely saw an outline of John in the nearest bed.

Looking towards the candle, she saw long fingers curl around its holder and hold it up, illuminating the face of Lafayette. Like a deer caught, she froze and met his eyes nervously. Her hand rested on the door again and she prepared to leave when a voice made her rethink her actions.

"What are you doing?" Turning around, she looked at Lafayette, corners of her mouth quirking up. He blinked tiredly at her, settling the candle holder back on the desk near his bed. An uncapped inkwell and its partner quill laid near it. Alex must've been exhausted. She mused thoughtfully. "Genevieve? What are you doing here?"

"You should be asleep," she murmured instead of answering. "I'll just go."

"Stay." He insisted quietly and the brunette raised an eyebrow. This was the most they've said to each other since she had returned. Toeing off her boots, she walked over to him, full of uncertainty. John let out a groan in his sleep and turned away. Sending him an amused glance, she sat on the edge of Lafayette's bed. He lifted the blanket and shifted over, and she sent him a dubious look. "How are you liking the new training regiment?"

"Is this what this is about?" She asked, gesturing between them and the bed. "If so, then it's fine. Major General Friedrich drills us hard - teaches us how to wield those bayonets." She tried to stop the scowl that appeared on her face. Her memory of the weapon was not a happy one. "Guess we need it."

"Oui, I suppose so." He agreed half-heartedly, looking at the space between them. She scooted closer to the head of the bed and gingerly put her feet up, balancing on the edge precariously. "You can move closer." The man offered.

She didn't.

Although the cabin was indeed warmer than outside, she still felt a chill run up and down her spine when his hand clamped around her arm. She nearly flinched but managed to hold back the urge, her heart hammering as his fingers gently brushed over her right sleeve. He was leaned over, one elbow propping him up as he studied her face. Meeting his dark eyes, she nearly drowned in the molasses-like tint of his irises. Without her even noticing it, his hand gently tugged at her sleeve and he broke away their staring contest.

Pulling her arm away, Genevieve could feel his stare on her again but this time, didn't meet it. "Are you cold?" He asked quietly, hand still where hers once was.

Murmuring a reply, "No," she sighed. "Lafayette,"

"Oui?" His voice wasn't weaved with hurt, instead, it was soft and genuinely curious. This time, she allowed him to place his hand on hers. The warmth of his hand, such a disparity to her still-icy hands, draped over her skin and he intertwined their fingers.

"If you could do anything different," she looked into the small flame of the candle, facing away from him so she couldn't see whatever expression settling on her face, "would you?" There was a palpable silence where she thought he had merely ignored her question - purposefully or not. There was a feeling inside of her that weighed down her stomach, at the apprehension of his answer. His thumb traced absent circles on the back of her hand, over the knuckles he had frequently kissed, both in teasing and in genuine adoration.

"No. I do not think so." With his answer, was relief that flooded her bones. "Any thing I change means the possibility of not meeting you."

"Aren't you quite the smooth talker." She turned back to him and settled on her side. His hand traveled up her arm hesitantly, eyes asking for consent. Nodding, she watched him pull her sleeve up to reveal the pink, waxy scar. Goosebumps rose around it, out of coldness or the way his skin whispered over her arm like a feather, she didn't know.

"It is in my blood," he quipped. "The doctor said he had to disinfect and cauterize the wound." The marquis traced the expanse of the scar and she watched him curiously. "I am sorry that such pain was awarded to you for your service." His tone was dry and she stifled a smile.

"And I remember you screaming as they dug a bullet out of you." He winced at the memory and she squeezed his hand to distract him, "Better me than someone else, anyhow. I had a reason to live." She murmured and he looked up at her. Her hand ran through his wild hair and cupped his jaw. The cicatrix under his eye was fading but she could still barely make it out in the darkness of their cabin. "My family, this idiotic French debonair." He exhaled a breathy laugh. "What can I say? Some men have a cavalier way of handling their bodies."

"Are you talking about me, mademoiselle?" He asked in faux outrage and the corners of both of their lips quirked up. Her green eyes alight with amusement, she thumbed his cheek.

"Perhaps." She allowed and his smile grew. Conversation was so easy, familiar. God, she had missed this.

"But I have something to live for as well." He reminded her and heat pooled in her cheeks. Then, she was thankful for the shadow of night. He pulled down the sleeve but she could still feel the tingling sensation he had trailed across her skin. "Gen,"

Snapping out of her daze, she looked at him. "Yes?"

"Sleep. It'd be more reckless not to, right?" He flopped down on his cot, resting his head on his hands, elbows bent to the sides. He left room for her and she slowly lowered herself to the cot. Licking the pads of her index finger and thumb, she extinguished the light with a pinch of the flame. There was a silence for more than a few minutes where Genevieve felt another wind swirl around in their cabin, sneaking under her shirt and the expanse of her neck. "Are you cold?"

He didn't allow her time for a response, only wrapped one arm around her small set of shoulders and pulled her towards him. He lifted the blanket haphazardly and she aided him, the threadbare material rough against her fingers. Letting it drop, he made sure that it completely covered her before lying back down with a slight huff. Her blood warmed and her eyes slid closed as she kept her hands to her chest, unsure of what to do. His heart thudded slowly against her knuckles, and his chest rose and fell with every calm breath. He tilted his head towards her, nose brushing against her hairline as his hand rubbed her arm.

Groaning, Lafayette shifted his weight to his side, flinging his other arm over her in a bear hug. Opening her eyes drowsily, she came closer. In this warm cocoon, Genevieve had never felt so at home in his arms than then. He kissed her hair and she hesitantly slithered an arm over his waist. Was such affection normal during wartime? If so, why did it feel so strange? Or was it really because it felt like forgiveness that radiated off his being? Whatever it was, it wasn't a feeling she felt abhorrently for. "Lafayette?"

A hum in his chest told her that he had heard her. His chin rested on her head and she was tucked into his chest, like two pieces of a puzzle. What God have I pleased to deserve you? She asked in her mind as her breath fanned against his neck. His arms tightened around her and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Goodnight."

"Je t'aime, ma chérie. Goodnight."

May 20, 1781

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Genevieve asked as she rode beside Lafayette. The two of them plus another 2,100 soldiers had traveled to the Barren Hill on the orders of George Washington himself. They took up a position on the Hill, close enough to Matson's Ford. They paused and dismounted, letting their horses graze and wander as soldiers followed suit behind them. They took drinks from their water skins and rested in the shade of the church as the marquis looked away from where he used the telescope and nodded.

"Oui. Washington is 'contemplating the contingency of an early withdrawal from Philadelphia.'" He quoted in a horrible American accent and she shook her head with a smile. "We're just going to recon the British intentions and to-"

"Cut off the patrols foraging in the countryside, I know." She finished for him. He kept a hand on his sword's shaft. "I just have a bad feeling about this." Taking the telescope from him, she spotted the artillery guns near the church on high ground with a unit of soldiers. "The brigade at Ridge Road are looking testy. Don't think they enjoy the hot weather." In the shade of the church, they were provided some comfort but the posting at Ridge Road were out in the sun. The sweltering heat would lead to short tempers later. Genevieve wrinkled her nose at the thought of dealing with a chagrined Louis-Phillipe.

"It's better than an ambush." Lafayette mounted his dun and she followed after him on her chestnut stallion. Ordering a small patrol to follow them, he allowed the other soldiers to rest as they rode for Matson's Ford. Her horse nickered as a light wind swept through the unit and she sighed at the slight relief. Patrolling the empty streets was made difficult when the horses would make too much of a fuss. Dismounting, she grabbed the chestnut's reins and guided him along as they went down the different alleys. Genevieve watched Lafayette ride on ahead and disappear down a road she had previously not seen. It was so well hidden that when he reappeared, she thought that it was merely a mirage. Maybe the heat's getting to me.

"Laf?" A mischievous smile on his face, he jerked his head towards the road.

"Follow me. It's a path back to Barren Hill." He explained and she sent him a strange look, following him as they began to climb back to their outpost. Looking back, she realized that it was a good place for some cover. "And a quick route to Matson's Ford."

"Genius." She drawled sarcastically but smiled genuinely. Her horse let out a neigh as if to agree and Lafayette sent her a smirk. She would pay for that later. As they stopped at Barren Hill, they broke out a few rations of dried nuts and meat. Setting down at the trunk of a tree, she watched her horse graze near Lafayette's dun. Chewing on a stick of dried meat, she watched the other soldiers talk amongst themselves.

"I am a genius." Lafayette plopped down next to her, the rear skirt of his tailcoat fanning out behind him. "Would you love me if I wasn't?" Chuckling, she bent her knees and rested her arms on them, hands lax between her legs. Her fingers bent the dried piece of meat in a fidgety manner as he sidled in closer. Their knees knocked into each other and she looked up at him. "Tu vas bien?"

"I'm fine." She gave a smile but he didn't look convinced. Eating away the rest of her ration, she looked back at the grass between her boots. She wondered what would happen after the war - the end seemed so close yet so far. What would I do? What would Lafayette do? Will he return to France or… she looked at him as he played with a few blades of grass between his fingers, will he stay? There were so many unanswered questions. Then, she met his dark eyes and her doubts didn't seem as scary. Whatever happens, I won't stop loving this man. She mused as his fingers brushed against her jaw.

Tugging her jaw, he brought her closer and she let him kiss her gently. After their reconciliation, moments of peace were still few and far between. They had to take what they were given. "Whatever happens, know that I love you." He murmured as if sensing her thoughts. Reaching to hold his wrist, she leaned into the warmth of his palm as he cupped her cheek. "Even if I die-"

"I know." She promised, "I know." The dark-eyed man smiled weakly and kissed her again. Wrapping an arm around her, he scooted up to lean against the tree as she slouched against him. Settling into a comfortable position, she looked up at him. "Lafayette?"

"Oui?" His fingers played with the ends of her hair absently as many soldiers paused to look at them.

"I love you." She murmured and he smiled softly.

"Je sais." He assured and she blinked up at him, kissing his jaw before pushing herself up and leaving the major general in the shade. He watched as she talked to her horse absently, brushing his mane with her fingers as the horse nudged the woman's foot out of the way of some grass. Chuckling, he was about to join his men in the dying sun when there was a loud shout. The men immediately picked up their guns by their feet and Genevieve paused, hand going to where a pistol was at her belt. Lafayette took out his telescope, scanning for whatever was the cause when he spotted a man in the Continental Army blue.

"Major General Lafayette!" He yelled. Genevieve immediately ran down to help the man climb the hill and Lafayette followed after, wrapping an arm around the injured man. "Ridge Road," the patriot wheezed, "the British have advanced."

"What?" Some of the men chorused as another patriot on a horse galloped to meet them. The soldiers burst into chatter as Genevieve turned to the unit.

"To arms!" She commanded and they gathered their belongings as the second patriot atop a horse began to report back to Lafayette.

"A battalion of 5,000, sir. The militia down at White Marsh Road have deserted. We have no chance!"

"I left a small group to delay the British but they can't hold off for long."

"They're coming for you." The two messengers finished simultaneously and Lafayette scowled, turning back to his men. They were all ready to leave as he thought quickly. Glancing at the church, he raked his gaze over the troops and guns that they had brought. Merde. He growled inwardly. Thinking quickly, he remembered the small road to Matson's Ford.

"Gather your men," he ordered and the two messengers nodded, "and meet me here. I have an idea."

.

"I'm staying." She growled and Lafayette raised his eyebrows, incredulous as soldiers ran to the end of the street past them. Some of the French stood to the side and watched as a patrol of men ran in the opposite direction. "We need a guard at the church, just like you said. I can do it."

"Not you-"

"If I can't fight, what's the point of me being here?" She asked sharply. "I won't be leading a patrol to skirmish, I'll only be guarding. I promise." His grip on her wrist didn't falter and she held his arm, looking at him. They were clear and confident, but it still didn't stem his fears. "Lafayette, I can do this, alright?" She looked at the French who nodded back. "These are my men. Now keep your men safe." Conflicted, Lafayette looked between her and the waiting men before giving the go ahead.

"Stay safe."

"No promises." She said grimly and began to ran the way they came, throwing an arm that way to gesture to the French to follow. They let out a shout and followed her against the other soldiers as she spotted another group of people up ahead running down the road to where the British were. Lafayette had briefly explained that he'd send out patrols to give the illusion that they were staying to fight. All they had to do was stand by the church and make sure that the British wouldn't stop the fleeing men.

Running up the hill, she raised her musket and waved her hand for the men to get into positions. Swallowing, she held her gun steady and just tried to block out any thoughts that would distract her.

A/N: Woot! I hope you enjoyed! Anyway, I just wanna say thank you so much for the continuous support! I love you all! Chapters might come a bit slower since I'm running out of pre-written ones. If I do take a break, never ask if this story is discontinued. The chances of me discontinuing are fairly low.

Thank you: OnarchyAnarchy, OreoKitteh, sophlikesmarvel (sorry! If I add the periods, it'll delete your name!) for following! BriCat03 for favoriting and reviewing! And Kitty of 2 kingdoms for reviewing as well!

REVIEWS

BriCat03: I like to think that Lafayette is like Eliza in a way. They forgive their loved ones for even the crappiest things. In other words, he's a fricken cinnamon roll and I love him very much. Thank you so very much for reading so faithfully!

Kitty of 2 kingdoms: I don't think Lafayette is one to out someone like that. She's made her gender very clear in this chapter but that doesn't mean men don't judge her. That'll be next chapter. Yeah, I added as a note that the reason it's so familiar is because I read RebelFaerie's "Oceans and Moments" fic and my brain regurgitated the elements of it. So... yeah, awkward. I totally didn't mean to do that and I'm kinda frustrated but at the same time too lazy to rewrite it because I'm still working on chapter 10. Thank you for reading, though!