Chapter 15: Proposal

September 20, 1781

"Can you just be polite for more than ten minutes of your life?" Peggy asked pointedly, thinking it'd be suffice to get their father to back down. Philip Schuyler snorted as Alexander sent them a wary glance from where he adjusted his pack on the horse.

"Polite? Why be polite when I can be honest? Washington's calling Hamilton back so soon and I don't like it. That was barely a punishment."

"There's a very fine line between being honest and being rude." Eliza commented quietly. Alexander kissed his wife chastely before returning to his task. "Be safe, Alexander,"

Genevieve hugged Angelica tightly before hugging her father. Her brother and sister held onto her tightly and she smiled. "I'll see you soon," she whispered and Bennett looked up at her.

"Promise?"

"You aren't a little kid anymore, Ben," she murmured and he nodded, drawing away. "You're grown up, the both of you." Ettie still held onto her jacket and Genevieve pulled her back by the shoulders. Tears shone in her eyes and Genevieve swallowed. "You can move on. Get married, start a family."

"And will you?" Ettie challenged and for once, Genevieve nodded easily, a wide smile on her face.

"Of course,"

"Lafayette will become my brother?" The blonde asked excitedly and Genevieve laughed.

"Will he teach me how to fight?" Bennett asked excitedly and she grinned, looking at her father. He looked wistful yet his eyes were lit up with happiness.

"You ask him, but I'm sure he'll say yes." She teased and he puffed out his chest. He was almost taller than her now and she felt a flicker of nostalgia. Her siblings pulled away to allow their father to talk to his oldest in private. The two walked over to Alexander who was speaking energetically to Eliza's rounded abdomen.

"It was only yesterday when I held you in my arms," he said quietly and she felt her smile shrink. "Lafayette is a good man - he makes you happy. You have my blessing, always,"

"Thank you, Papa," she whispered back and he brought her into another hug. "Thank you," she breathed and he chuckled against her. "There's the lake in a nearby park. Go there for me. We don't spend enough time there."

"I will," he promised, sending her a strange look. It had been a long time since she had requested to go the lake. The last time was when her mother was still alive.

"Under the arching willow, Papa," she murmured and his eyes lit up with recognition.

"Where your mother and I met," he realized and she nodded.

"I want you to be happy even when I'm not here. Take Bennett and Ettie, perhaps the Schuylers. It'd be a nice way to spend the day."

"It would," he agreed. Châtain nickered and Genevieve looked over her shoulder. "I guess that's your signal to leave." Drawing back, she nodded. "I love you, Genny."

"I love you, too, Papa." Turning to the Schuylers, she hugged Peggy tightly. "See you, Peggy," she mumbled and the younger Schuyler chuckled.

"If you see John, tell him I want a response soon." The woman ordered, jabbing a finger into her chest and Genevieve promised. "Stay safe," Mounting her horse, the brunette made sure her hat was still on as Eliza sent her a smile.

"Come home soon, you two," Angelica murmured and they nodded. Tugging at the reins, the two soldiers turned to head towards the gates.

"You wrote to Washington, right?" Genevieve asked and Alexander nodded. "Then we should get moving. He'll be expecting us."

September 25, 1781

"Major General Lafayette?" Lafayette looked up, exhausted from the fire. He had a terrible night - not going to bed until four in the morning. Even then, sleep evaded him.

"Oui?"

"General Washington requests to meet you at the outpost." The boy continued and the marquis looked tiredly over at John who had an as equally long night. "He says to be there as soon as possible."

"Why, in God's name, at this hour?" John muttered as Lafayette stood, knees cracking. Rolling his shoulders back, he saw that his horse was already being prepared. The boy shrugged, clearly nervous as to what the sour-faced Frenchman would say.

"It must be due to something with Grasse." Lafayette said and bid farewell to John. He mounted his horse and rode for the outpost, past the guards. The autumn air bit at his face and he rubbed at his eyes, bones aching from his lack of rest. When he reached the outpost, he was saluted by the guards there and dismounted, brushing off his pants and walking over to where Washington stood. Not much activity, he mused. Then again, the sun has only just risen.

Tapping Washington on the shoulder, he was surprised when there was a sly glint in his eye. He lowered his scope and Lafayette raised his eyebrows. "It's good to see you, son,"

"I'm afraid I cannot say the same. Sir, do you know how much sleep I got last night? Or the night before?" He asked, irritated. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he ignored Washington's chuckle and glared at him. "What do you need me for?"

"I don't need you, but if you don't want to see who's arriving, that's fine." Washington remarked and Lafayette flushed, reaching for the scope. When the General moved it away, he scowled. "Fix your attitude, son."

"I would if you stopped playing me like a toy," he grumbled. He heard the pounding of horse hooves and looked up when he saw two figures atop horses make their way to the outpost. "Alexander's returning?"

"Yes," was all his father figure said. There was no indication that he knew nor that he was surprised another figure accompanied him. Now that he was closer, he could make out Alexander's dark hair but the companion wore a hat.

"Sir-"

"Just wait."

"Hamilton returns!" Cheers went around the drowsy camp as the two finally breached through. Washington lead Lafayette over as the two dismounted and his interest piqued when the stranger with the hat wrapped a long-fingered hand around the grip of their knife. It was short, from what he could tell in the sheath, and their finger ran over something along the edge of the handle.

The stranger took off their hat, brown hair spilling down their back. They placed the hat in their horse's saddle pack and saluted George Washington. The General saluted back and when Lafayette's eyes found bright green ones, he felt completely alive.

"Genevieve!" He screamed and she laughed, her face lighting up like the sun as he opened his arms. She ran past George Washington who shook his head in amusement, and into him, arms wrapping around him as he swung her around tightly. Tears sprung in his eyes as Alexander shook Washington's hand. She kissed his cheek as he settled her down on the ground. Pulling back, he smiled at her from ear to ear. "Wait… Genevieve? Pourquoi es-tu ici? Je pensais que vous étiez à la maison! Qui vous laisse partir? Était-ce Peggy? Je pari que c'était Peggy."* His confused tone made her giggle and she hugged him again.

"No, it wasn't Peggy," she said with a roll of her eyes after he quickly translated his words. He sighed, indulging in her strong embrace that brought fire to his heart. "Yes, it partly was." She amended and he sighed again, this time, more dramatically.

"You sisters," he shook his head and she rolled her eyes.

"Shut up," she murmured and brought him down for a deep kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist and he sighed against her lips. It was like home was in the circle of his arms again as she pulled back to rest their foreheads against each other. "I've missed you,"

"I have missed you more," he murmured and she laughed. "God, you don't know how much," he added and she hugged him, cheek resting above his heartbeat. His eyes closed, nose brushing her hair. "I love you," he didn't realize he was crying until then.

"I love you," everything was muffled except her words and she raised her head, cold hand brushing away hot tears before pressing a soft, tender kiss against his lips again.

.

"Thank you for letting me return, sir." Genevieve said as soon as she came into the tent. George Washington stood at his full height, towering over her as he turned towards her.

"You deserve to be here," the man replied, "how are you?"

"Better." He nodded, "I sleep well and I've regained most of my strength back." His eyes flickered down to her belt and she thought she saw a flicker of surprise. He looked down at the map on his desk, bracing himself against the wood and the brunette stood, waiting.

"So he did give you that dagger." He seemed to say, "That boy really loves you then."

"Sir?"

"His only piece of security - the one thing he has brought with him all these years - and now you wield it." A quirk at the corner of the General's lips had Genevieve confused, "I'm saying that Lafayette is indeed in love with you."

"Okay…" she trailed off. This is not what she was expecting. Unsure of what to say, she confessed, "I'm in love with him. If there's something you need to say-"

"He wants to marry you." Chuckling nervously, she rubbed the back of her neck. "Boy told me himself."

"Then it's good that I want to marry him as well." She returned boldly. A smile tugged at her and she added, "I didn't think you were one to play cupid, sir."

"I'm not." He agreed, rubbing his face and looking back up at her. "An exception has been made for you. It's a combination of my fondness for the both of you, and a clear sign of how old I'm getting." The green-eyed woman managed a nervous laugh at the jibe. "Don't fuck it up with him," or I'll tear you apart. The words went unsaid came across loud and clear anyway.

"I won't, sir," she promised and he gave her a firm nod. Jerking his head towards the entrance, she bowed. "Thank you, sir," it was almost like she was given his blessing, "for everything." Another nod and she exited the tent, face heating up.

Meeting the parent was so not on her agenda and yet it happened anyway. It was a good thing she passed and earned the blessing anyhow. One less thing to worry about then.

September 27, 1781

"This might be our last dinner together." John remarked quietly as they surrounded the campfire. They were separated from the main army - many kept their distance when they realized Genevieve had returned and she was just fine with that. Lafayette's arm stiffened around Genevieve's shoulders and the brunette's fingers became rigid around the cup of mead.

"Oui," Lafayette agreed uneasily. "But, we will make it a memorable one."

"I guess so," Alexander murmured. "And at least we'll all have a friend with us. Genevieve, Lafayette," they looked at the solemn man, "Give them hell on your side."

"We will," the two promised and looked at each other. So much was said in a mere few seconds and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Be careful, Laurens, Hamilton," Lafayette added cheekily.

"What do you mean?" The freckled man sniffed in faux offence. Alexander cocked an eyebrow.

"You haven't written your letter to mademoiselle Peggy yet," John's smile faded, "and you," he pointed at Alexander, "you have a pregnant wife. You two have a talent for brash and reckless courage. I do not know if I fear that more or the Schuyler sisters - they are terrifying."

"The Schuyler sisters are frightening when provoked." Genevieve agreed, raising her head. "I'm sure you two already know that when I first went home," to see her talk about what happened so tactlessly made them all pause, sharing glances. Her eyes scanned them, waiting for a response before adding, "and I'm sure their vocal chords will be hoarse if you two do not write to them soon." The tenseness melted away albeit awkwardly.

"Near-death experiences come with the job." John proclaimed to fill in the quiet.

"Like in Monmouth? Your horse shot out from under you and you go flying." Alexander snorted and he smacked him.

"It was not his fault that he was not killed or wounded, he did everything that was necessary to procure one or the other."** Lafayette remarked. John rolled his eyes, leaning forward with a smirk.

"And who was it that stumbled into camp dripping wet making us all think you returned from the dead? Hamilton, was it you or am I mistaken?" He quipped and said man took a swig from his cup.

"At least I have the courage to face Philip Schuyler on the subject of his daughter."

"That's a low blow,"

"Children," Lafayette chided and they both scowled at the lofty tone he held. "No need to fight."

"They do act rather childishly." Genevieve supported and the two let out sounds of indignation. "It's charming, in a way. Eliza is certainly smitten."

"Don't bring my wife into this!"

"Then don't act like it'll be just another battle. There might not be another chance to write to Peggy or Eliza or anyone we love." Everyone was quiet as she continued, "This is the end - we all know it." Suddenly, a thought popped into the green-eyed woman's mind and she raised her cup. "And it only seems fitting to end this the way it started, right?"

"Right," John murmured and Alexander, confused raised his glass. If only Hercules was here - the stocky man would already be leading the speech but instead, it fell onto Genevieve to do so.

"Raise a glass to freedom," she recited, "something they can never take a way - no matter what they tell you." Smiling nostalgically, Alexander nodded.

"Raise a glass to the four of us," his eyes reached every single one of them, "Tomorrow they'll be more of us." More of us who are dead or more of us who will join our cause? She asked herself numbly. Lafayette pressed a kiss to her temple and she tried to smile. Fear swelled in her throat as she swallowed the alcoholic drink. "Telling the story of tonight."

"Raise a glass to freedom," John tipped the drink back and they all chorused it back quietly. For some reason, the knot of fear and dread kept building up in her throat. Even as she looked at Lafayette, Genevieve could barely breathe.

"We will be fine," he murmured, almost to assure himself. "Don't think about it."

"I'm trying," she promised and he nodded. "I'm just… terrified."

"We all are." His eyes met the stars and they reflected back down on him. In her eyes, they seemed to glitter coldly down on the four of them as John asked if anyone wanted a refill. Letting the lieutenant colonel take her cup, she watched as Alexander followed his best friend. They were left alone.

"But if we survive?" She prompted finally and he managed the smallest of smiles. "If we survive this mess of a war?" His palm cupped her cheek, thumb flitting across her cheekbone.

"Then…" he swallowed, "then I will go back to Albany with you."

"Then?" She prompted and even in the faint fire light, she could see the beginnings of a blush. He was a nervous wreck. Taking his hand in hers, she held them tightly. "Lafayette, you already have my father's blessing." The brunette murmured and he looked up at her, shocked. "He adores you."

"How - I - where - who told you?" He stumbled and she laughed, kissing his cheek. "I meant for it to be when I returned… but-"

"And if you didn't return at all?" She challenged, "I just knew," no point in snitching on Washington, as much as she wanted to, "and if you'd… if you'll have me, I'd like to be your wife." Her voice was quiet but it was amplified in his ears. After this war… they were getting married. Is this even reality? He thought dazedly. "So… is that a yes?" And he scooped her up in his arms, standing up and spinning her around. She yelped, arms around his neck as she held on.

"Of course it is, you silly woman," he laughed and settled her down again just so he could kiss her. Everything was quiet except the crack of the fire and she smiled into their kiss. The embrace was warm and felt exactly what home should feel like as Lafayette brushed his lips against her forehead.

When Alexander and John returned, they shared knowing glances and purposely stayed out late with the other men, sharing tales of their past battles. Lafayette and Genevieve were in their own world and the two knew that if they went close to the marquis' tent, they would hear sounds they'd rather not hear - however muffled they were. So, instead, they drowned it out with loud drinking songs and cheers around the main camp with their fellow patriots.

And at dawn, everyone would part, the French and Americans saying their farewells as they tried to snag their final victory.

September 30, 1781

Let me tell you what I wish I'd know when I was young and dreamed of glory: you have no control

Genevieve woke at the crack of dawn, Lafayette beside her. A new day, another fight. Nudging him awake, she exited the tent after pulling on her jacket and saw Rochambeau speaking to Louis-Philippe. Lafayette came out after her drowsily, kissing her temple before getting straight to work.

Who lives

In the American camp, Aaron Burr cleaned his musket carefully. He watched as soldiers dug the trenches and built parallels before setting down the gun and joining them. Coming in between Alexander and another, he sent a tight-lipped smile towards his friend and hauled the wood along.

Who dies

"John, here," Alexander huffed. "Thanks, Burr," the man nodded and walked off to help gather more wood. The freckled man grinned, grabbing hold of the wood. "The British are going to lose," he stated confidently and held out a hand for his old friend. Taking it, they pulled each other into a hug, clapping the other's back.

"If you die, I'll be so pissed," John muttered and Alexander chuckled.

"Same for you, Laurens. I'll see you on the other side."

Who tells your story

Eliza rubbed her abdomen to settle down her son as she read the letter over and over again. Her beloved Alexander's writing sprawled down the page messily and she looked out the library window, wondering if by the time she had first laid eyes on the paper, if her Alexander was still alive. He is, she told herself.

"Eliza?" Angelica appeared at the door, "Lunch is ready - I've been calling for you."

"Sorry," she muttered, distracted. Pulling her shawl over her arm, she walked towards her sister. "Angelica,"

"Hm?"

"If Alexander doesn't make it-"

"He will - he's too stubborn not to." The eldest assured and Eliza bit her lip. There was a bright fire that was in her husband, an inferno that could not be quenched. It gave her life and was so dangerous, so close to burning her, and yet held such a warmth - a pull - that she could not deny. But it was at times like this did she truly feel helpless. If only she could have the strength, no. She did have the strength. She could do this.

"Of course," and a slight smile came to her face, "this is Alexander we're talking about. He's more likely to die holding a quill than a gun." Angelica chuckled as they made their way to the dining room. If only Eliza could take back her words had she known what were to happen.

I know that we can win. I know that greatness lies in you.

Another sunset, another day gone. Wiping the dirt from her face, Genevieve sat down beside Lafayette in their tent. He handed her a cloth and she wiped the rest of it off. "Thank you," from outside the slightest sliver of the tent flap, she could see the brilliant orange hues of the sky. Preparing for bed, she watched as Lafayette laid down, already half-asleep.

But remember from here on in, history has its eyes on you.

"We won!" Genevieve sighed, stumbling blindly towards him. She ran into his outstretched arms and they watched together as the redcoat waved the white flag. Blood stained her face completely, making her almost unrecognizable. Only her eyes told him who she was. They collapsed in a heap on the ground. "Lafayette, we won."

"Oui, ma chérie," he replied and she held his face in bloody palms. He winced, feeling the sticky red substance streaking trails across his skin. "Gen?" Her eyes, seconds ago, seemed so alight with victory. Now they were dull, muted as her unfocused gaze met his. His blood ran cold. "Gen?" His hands on her waist shook her but it was no use. Feeling for a pulse, he found a fading one as her heart slowly pumped the last of her blood. "Gen, no!" He screamed in vain. Her cold fingers traced circles on his cheeks, trying to imprint him on her mind before she died.

"Lafayette," she gasped, tears tracing a clear trail down her bloodstained face. "I… I…"

"Don't leave me, please,"

Tears bit at his eyes, blinding him as she rested her head against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Sobbing, he hugged her tightly, hoping to squeeze life back into her. Her hair was damp with blood but he ran his fingers through the mess anyway, kissing her frigid skin. Her breath fanned across the hollow of his neck, slowly becoming weaker as he squeezed her hard.

"I…" she tried to say but he shushed her.

"No, don't. Please, don't leave me," he whispered lowly, a cry-induced rasp in his voice. Blood spilled over his fingers splayed on her back, running warmly over his skin and he realized with a start that a knife was protruding from her back. "Non, non, non!" Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the image as she slowly became limp. Then, she leaned completely against him, no muscles at work to hold her together. Her head fell against his chest and he sobbed, tears hot with fury. His heart shattered, falling to the ground. A hole, a vacuum, occupied his chest and he felt empty. Cold. Dead.

"Who did this?" He screamed to the empty street until his vocal chords begged for a break. His throat burned. Then he screamed again and felt the ground shake.

"Lafayette?" No, you're dead. "Wake up! Lafayette!" Sitting up, he felt sweat pour down his back and face as he blinked repeatedly. "Lafayette, are you alright?" Two green eyes focused on him and he realized that it was a dream. "Laf…"

"Gen," his vocal chords were on fire. At least one thing was true. She stroked his hair and he felt the tears still run down his nose and cheeks. The salty tears were wiped away by her as he grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her. "I thought you were gone," he breathed and she held on to him as tight as she could. Her heart beat under his hand. It was all a dream.

"I'm here," she assured and pulling back, she smiled softly. Her skin was only marred by dirt. Not blood. There was no knife in her back. Her hair was just a knotted mess. No dried blood clumped in the tendrils.

"You are here," he repeated and the brunette nodded. Taking his face in her hands as she did in his dream, she brought him close. "You are here," her breath fanned across his cheek as his eyes slid closed. The horror made him feel empty still as she kissed away his tears.

"I'm here," and then she captured his lips in hers for a brief kiss, reassuring him that she really was alive. Shaking, he felt numb as she melted away the icy terror at his core with another hug. "I'm alive. We'll win. Okay?" Another shaky nod. "I love you."

History has its eyes on you.

A/N: Oh, boy. We're so close to the end of the revolution, y'all. Sorry that the proposal wasn't all with a ring and shizz. But come on, Washington snitching on Laf is so much better. Anyone still out there reading besides BriCat03, Kitty of 2 kingdoms and Dulharpa? If so, leave me a review below because that might mean a new chapter comes out quicker!

REVIEWS:

BriCat03: Aah! I'm sorry I didn't come to you for the proposal scene. I had no idea how I wanted it until just now, writing it. Sorry! But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Kitty of 2 kingdoms: SHE WENT TO YORKTOWN. SHE DID IT!

Dulharpa: Aay, I see your review now! Thanks for reviewing, ahh!

* Pourquoi es-tu ici? Je pensais que vous étiez à la maison! Qui vous laisse partir? Était-ce Peggy? Je pari que c'était Peggy." Courtesy of BriCat03, this translates into, "Why are you here? I thought you were at home? Who let you leave? Was it Peggy? I bet it was Peggy."

** "It was not his fault that he was not killed or wounded, he did everything that was necessary to procure one or the other." Real line right there, people. Laf actually said that.