Chapter 25: Every Day a Burden

September 13, 1789

Genevieve didn't know how long she sat there. Based on the message, Robespierre had said this café at ten and she had left the house nearly an hour ago at nine.

So she was here early.

Maybe that'd give her some time to calm her nerves.

Her finger traced the rim of her tea cup before curling around the handle and bringing it to her painted lips. She was wearing one of her more modest dresses but they still occupied more space than her legs could ever take up. She could probably hide a child under her skirts, to be honest.

"Madame la marquise," the respectful title rolled off a man's tongue without a trace of warmth or meaning. It was simply cold and flat. Raising her head slowly, she schooled her features into a mask of indifference. She set her cup back down with a soft clink. Green eyes blank, mouth set in a line, she met the dark eyes of Maximilien Robespierre. He was pale and lean, his brown striped suit hanging off his form. Standing, she gathered a fistful of her skirt in her hands and extended the other.

"Monsieur Robespierre," she greeted as he took her hand and bowed. Curtseying, she straightened and he kissed her hand before letting go. His hand was cold, she reflected after a moment as they sat across from each other. A server immediately swept to their table, ready to take his order. His long fingers wove together on the table.

"I'll have what the madame is having," he replied before turning those black eyes on her. "And how are you?"

"Fine," she said, "and you? Being the Deputy of our great National Constituent Assembly must be a tiring affair." She was not unfamiliar with his quick rise to power. This man's way with words was his greatest asset. On guard, she smiled politely as he cocked his head, nodding at the server who brought him a steaming cup of tea.

Pouring milk and sugar into the liquid, he stirred it absently but never took his eyes off of her. "It is. However, compliance does aid our attempts to reform our nation." A thinly veiled threat that she did not need eyes to see.

"Yes, it does." She agreed, "My husband's Declaration is sure to have helped." The brunette matched his aloof tone. "If only some could have seen that sooner." A slight tilt of the head as she spoke, "Or did you need his compliance more than the rights of his people? I'm sure having the Commander-in-Chief of the National Guard as an ally will surely boost your own status."

He let out a sharp exhale through the nose, a smile curling his lip. "For a woman who married only for a man's money, you are remarkably protective of your husband." Damn. She spoke too rashly.

"It is but my duty to defend my husband's actions," she said. "Are you implying that you do not stand for the same rights and freedoms?"

"Of course not," was his clipped reply. "As you come from a newly liberated nation, I suppose you still have independance on your mind."

"And I suppose you still have the notion of garnering friends in high places on your mind." His eyebrow twitched in an almost indiscernible movement but she caught it. "Is that why you've called me here?" The brunette watched as he sipped his tea. "To sway me with tea and biscuits until I can't do anything but agree?"

"A woman such as you, mademoiselle Alcott," her legs stiffened so she wouldn't kick him, "needs an approach that reflects the tact and succinctness of your own. Danton would only be verbose and aggressive. And perhaps we can connect - you know how it feels to be raised from nothing." She raised a lazy eyebrow, looking at the table as she appeared disinterested.

Ignoring his last sentence, she spoke, "Speaking of colleagues behind their backs doesn't make for a trustworthy ally," she said and he hummed in amusement.

"As quick-witted as our first meeting, I see." God, he was infuriating. "I requested your presence here to propose-"

"I'm not interested." She cut him off but he held up a hand for her silence.

"Perhaps propose was the wrong word." His tone was flickering on the edge of laconic and annoyed. His hand fell back to the table. A small smile on her lips, she finally met his eyes. "There is no asking in what I am about to say. There is a fantasy, and then there is the cold, harsh word, mademoiselle." Despite his words, he was quiet, soft. "Not many see it coming, but I do. The monarchy will fall and when it does, there will only be the dead, and those who are willing to take charge."

"What do you want, Robespierre?" She asked sharply and he just grinned crookedly.

"Everyone knows of the marquis who brought home an American wife," he hissed, "and most know that there is no love lost. Yet, there is love for the children." Any mention of her twins put her on edge and her back was ramrod straight. Grasping her teacup so her hand wouldn't shake she took the saucer with her other hand and sipped before placing the cup and saucer back on the table.

"What do you want?" She asked again.

"It's time to choose a side, mademoiselle. Camille Desmoulins publishes the Discours de la lanterne aux Parisiens a day, Marat's L'Ami du peuple in two.* Words have much sway over the public." He leaned forward slightly, beady eyes burning into her gaze. "The marquis is not a popular man."

"You say that as if it is not common knowledge." She spat and he pulled back. That was the sole reason she was doing this. She needed to get away from this man. Placing her hands on her lap, she clenched her fists where he couldn't see. "I know where my husband stands and it is not in his favour."

"Then you know you are not safe by his side. This revolution will not have the same clearly drawn lines yours did." Robespierre fished in his pocket and brought out his coin purse. "This is not simply two forces - good and bad - battling one another until one gives out. This is a country fighting itself, ripping out its support until there is nothing left."

"If that is what you say, then there are no sides," she contradicted him and he smirked again, that crooked smile that seemed so hollow.

"Quite correct. My wording was wrong, I apologize." No sincerity. "But there are allies. The radicals of our beloved country will be there when we build up our country once more."

"You're extremely confident for something as unknown as the future."

"It's not a mystery when you hold all the strings." Taking out a few coins, he slid them over to her side of the table.

"Give me a reason." she said, her fingers flitting across the metal as he stood, straightening out his suit.

"You know just as well as I do that the people will not stop until the King's head is on a silver platter. It'd be such a shame, however, should children be caught in the crossfire, wouldn't it, mademoiselle?" He asked and her heart thudded against her throat.

"I'm not some silly girl." She knew he was deliberately ignoring her title to disassociate her. It was as if he was saying to leave Lafayette in the dust. Her head hurt and she clenched her jaw.

His smirk grew and Genevieve's insides curdled at that haunting smile. Adjusting his collar, he nodded. "Adieu. Stay safe. Who knows what can happen in the streets of Paris." The farewell was mocking her as he turned and left, his teacup half-empty.

Waiting until he was gone, she waved for a waiter, paid using all of the money Robespierre left behind and left, trying not to sprint all the way back to her home. Once she reached the familiar hedges, she climbed the few steps, flung open the door and slammed it shut. Leaning against the wall, she felt exhausted and heavy. Pressing her fingers to her temples, she rubbed them in small circular motions. Glancing around, she knew no one was in here with her - no one unwanted, that is.

"Gen?" Lafayette was still here. Resting her head against the wall, she slid down and tucked her knees to her chest. Hugging her legs tightly, she tried to swallow the bile that was clawing its way up her throat. "Mon amour," he ran down the stairs and crouched beside her before pulling his wife into his arms. She hugged him tightly, breathing ragged, before letting the few tears burning her eyes escape.

"That man," she breathed. He pulled back to look her in the face, brushing away tears.

"It is fine. Gen, you are safe."

"Robespierre offered an alliance again."

"What did you say?"

"He left before I could answer. Lafayette," she hugged him close again, "the children won't be safe. But he said..."

"No." he whispered, "Do not trust that snake of a man." His hold tightened and she bit her lip.

"Robespierre is becoming one of the most powerful men in France. I can't let Georges and Emmeline-"

"No."

"Do you want to see our children grow up?" She shot back. "I know how dangerous he can be." Pulling away and standing up, she walked towards the staircase. She hadn't realized how empty she felt. Everything felt gutted out of her until she was nothing but a husk. It must've been a side-effect for everyone who had ever met him.

"So you know that he is only using you to extract favours." His sharp words made her stop.

"Of course I know." Her head turned slightly to the side as she gazed at the floor. "But do you think I care when our children are threatened?" He was quiet for a long time and Genevieve thought he left but then he replied.

"No, and I hate that you are willing to risk your life for it."

"You risk yours every day, Lafayette." He laughed harshly before his breath hitched and she knew by his desperate heaves for air that he was crying. The stress of it all… it was slowly killing them. Turning around, she took the few necessary steps to envelop him in a hug. At first, his arms didn't move but after a few moments, they settled on her back.

"Don't say yes." He choked out, "I cannot lose you."

"And I cannot lose you yet I let you leave this house every day." She tried to joke but it came out short. Kissing him softly, she relished in the feeling of his swollen lips before kissing away his tears. "This is the life we chose, my love."

"It will be over soon," he promised, taking her hands in his and kissing her knuckles.

"No, it won't." Her green eyes reflected the same grief and aching pain in his soul as she smiled slightly. "But I love you."

"And I you." Pressing their foreheads together, the two just basked in the silence with their eyes closed. Lafayette sighed after, kissing her forehead. Hugging her again, he rested his chin on her head. "You are going to say yes."

"I have to. And perhaps I can tell you what I know - like a spy." He hummed and she just pressed her ear against his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat.

"Like Hercules?"

"Maybe. That reminds me." She lifted her head to stare at him as they slowly, as if of the same mind, began to walk to the staircase. "Did Alexander respond?" Any sliver of a smile disappeared.

"No."

"Then we write again."

.

"How was your day today?" Emmeline asked, causing all members of the family to look up. Georges glared at his sister while their parents shared tired glances. "Papa, what did you do today?"

"Let us see," he mused anyways to go along with it. "I woke up, made breakfast for my two children and then paid the tutors. Then, one little girl asked for an early lunch and fell asleep on her father before it could be served." Emmeline flushed as Georges smirked.

"I was up reading a book!" She protested as Genevieve sighed.

"You know sleep is important." She glanced at her husband, a silent message in her eyes. I'd give anything for a good night's sleep once more. "And Georges? What did you do?"

"Papa taught me how to fight." The brunette's head snapped towards said man. "I know how to hold a sword now." Raising her eyebrows, she returned back to her meal as Gerard cleared his throat.

"And you, madame?"

"Gerard…"

"I want to hear what you did today, Mama." Emmeline said and Genevieve grimaced. "You look tired. What did you do? Did you go fight? Papa told us a story from when you were in the army."

"Which one?" She asked, grateful for the subject change. Thank God her daughter could never stop talking sometimes.

"How you got that scar." Gerard supplied, glancing at the arm. "Impressive bravery, madame."

"It hurt like h… like a lot." She said with a glance at her children. Dinner was almost finished and she was glad. All she wanted to do was sleep. "That was before I met your father." A history between them seen behind their share smiles, Genevieve took his hand on the table. Glancing at the clock, she felt her throat close to the size of a needle-hole. "Finish up. It's an early bedtime so we can say goodbye to your father tomorrow. Gerard," she glanced at him and the servant nodded with an easy smile.

Emmeline and Georges frowned but complied when their mother trained a stern gaze on them. They placed their places on the counter near the sink before following Gerard out. "Come along, little Lafayettes. Baths then off to bed." Georges looked back one last time, hair tied up in a bun. He had the same hair as his father and wanted it to be the exact same. Every morning, he'd ask his mother to do it but recently, he's been attempting it himself.

"Mama," she raised her head from where it was lowered, nose pinched between two fingers as her other hand clutched onto the table. Lafayette rubbed her shoulder before heading for the sink to deal with the dishes.

"Yes?" He walked over to her and hugged her tightly.

"I want to help." Picking him up, she held him close. He wasn't a child anymore and it broke her heart that he could at least sense how his parents were feeling. Emmeline, while brighter, didn't have the sensitivity of her brother. She was already off doing whatever she was set off to do. "Mama," his face scrunched up, "I want to fight."

"Oh, no. That is completely out of the question." She chastised and he scowled as she set him down. Crouching, she settled her hands on his shoulders. "Georges, sweetheart, you can't fight. You're not ready yet."

"But I want to help you when Papa is not here." He argued and Lafayette glanced over at them with a fond, sad smile.

"You are already helping, my brave little boy," Lafayette said, wiping his hands with a cloth and coming to stand by them. Genevieve agreed.

"Go on. Gerard's already running your bath." She kissed his forehead one last time before straightening up. Georges frowned, looking away and she sighed softly. "Georges." His dark eyes met his mother's and he hugged her once more before pulling away.

"Je t'aime," smiling, she nodded.

"I love you, too. Now, go on." He left the kitchen as Lafayette pulled her closer with an arm around the waist. "I can't do this alone." She breathed, resting her head on his shoulder. "Politics… I don't-" she broke her own train of thought.

"I know."

"Robespierre was crafted for this." She said and he sighed. They couldn't help think of Alexander, a soldier and a lawyer. Genevieve thought of how alike the two were, wielded with all the right words. But where Alexander could never stop talking until the receiver was convinced, Robespierre knew just what to say - what points to pressure - to gain allies.

And that meant they were worlds different.

Lafayette thought of his friend, the one he had fought by side. The one he drank with, the one he took to get drinking after his wedding. He thought of how Alexander could never stop writing to Eliza when they were on the frontier and how he was sure he was writing a storm back in America, formulating opinions on everything - not even to argue, just so they knew his standpoint. He liked being heard. Robespierre was only heard when needed.

And Lafayette just for it all to stop.

"I know."

September 14, 1789

"Say goodbye to Papa," Genevieve murmured to her children who ran into their crouching father. Lafayette was once dressed again in his dark navy jacket, sheath hanging off his belt. His National Guard sabre handle gleamed in the dim sun. Emmeline began crying, hugging his neck as Georges clutched onto his jacket, sniffing.

"Papa, please don't leave." Emmeline wailed, tears streaming down her face. Georges tried to put on a strong front but even then, Genevieve could see her son breaking down every time he left.

This was wearing down - tearing down her children's childhood. There was always the thought that Lafayette would never return and her children knew it. Lafayette hugged his children close, sitting down and squeezing them tight as Genevieve crouched down. Emmeline turned around and launched herself into her mother's arms.

"Make Papa stay!" She yelled through her tears and Genevieve just held her daughter's head to her, keeping her close. Meeting Lafayette's eyes, she knew the same ache in her soul was mirrored in his.

"I can't," she whispered brokenly. "I can never make him stay. He's trying to make it safe for you." Emmeline sniffed loudly, wiping at her eyes with her palms. This new threat made Lafayette's eyes redden and he blinked hard, trying to focus on his wife. His alive wife.

Scooping up his son, he stood and breathed in his scent as Genevieve hoisted up her daughter. The two adults stood close by, the twins nestling into their parents as Genevieve transferred Emmeline to one arm and hugged her husband tightly with the other. His hand settled on the small of her back as he kissed her temple.

"Be careful,"

"You too,"

"Papa, promise you'll come back." Georges said, raising his head and the other three looked at the youngest member. "Promise."

"I promise," he agreed and set down his son who in turn looked at Emmeline.

"Come on, Emmeline. If Papa promises, then he will come back."

"But I'll miss you!"

"What about I teach you what Papa taught me? I can teach you how to fight!" Emmeline glanced at Genevieve who smiled slightly through the tears, setting down her daughter. "Then, part of our Papa is always with us!" The green-eyed child looked at her brother and took the proffered hand as Georges led his sister out to the backyard.

As soon as Genevieve was sure they were gone, she herself found herself surrounded in his arms. He kissed her neck before embracing her tightly. Throat the size of a needle, she found it difficult to form words as they just stood there for a long time.

Inhaling his scent, she tried to imprint it on her mind as his fingers curled into fists against her back. "I'll write Alexander again." Her voice was so small.

"Tu vas me manquer, mon amour."** He whispered back. "I will be home before you know it." She just nodded, too tired to say anything. Everyone seemed tired. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept and woken up completely invigorated. Not even with her husband beside her; there was always the fear, the knowing that he'd be gone in the morning.

"I love you." She said once more and he pulled back to kiss her deeply. One hand on her waist, the other to cup her face, he filled every movement of his lips against hers with meaning as their eyes slid shut. The hand that hooked on his shoulder from the back squeezed tighter as her other hand brought him down for another kiss. "I love you," she repeated and he nodded.

"Je sais." He replied, pulling away. "Stay strong. I know you can do this." I can't, she thought anyway but didn't contradict him. A lost expression took over whatever was on his face before and her heart felt tight. Opening the door, he spared her one last glance before entering the carriage that awaited him outside. Genevieve followed him to the door, holding it open as he entered. When the coach door slammed shut, her green gaze searched for his as he looked out the window.

One last smile.

She closed the door.

Leaning against the wood, she took a deep breath and swallowed to wet her dry throat. Robespierre was smart but she could be clever. She just had to keep the thought of her husband in her mind. She could do this. Pushing off the door, she walked out the house and into the backyard. Watching her children play but without the usual energy they encompassed, she felt that familiar pounding in her head. One more day.

She could do this.

One day closer to his return.

A/N: Hello! I'm only here to drop this update before I slink back into the darkness. I'm just gonna keep writing and drop a chapter once in a while. I'm still on break though. I'm like updating for my other Ham fic so yeah I don't know. Check it out because it has no fans and it's kinda interesting if I do say so myself. Okay, enough shameful self promo.

REVIEWS:

stranger ways: Yo, I loved your puns even though they are cheesy! If I knew your IRL we would probably burst into song every 2 seconds. Thanks for reviewing and being so supportive!

TabbyCat: I love Musical!Jefferson though, he's actually one of my favourites to write. Ah, sometimes he can be a bit of a handful though :P Thanks for reviewing!

Strawberry Cat: Hey. I seriously hope that your grandparents get well and if not, that they had a peaceful passing. Thank you for reviewing even through this time - it means a lot. I hope that you're okay as well and I'm sending good thoughts your way.

* "Discours de la lanterne aux Parisiens in two days, Marat's L'Ami du peuple in two." The Discours is a paper that praises the Parisian mob and justifies the political violence. The L'Ami du peuple was Marat's first issue and proposed radical social and political revolution.

** "Tu vas me manquer, mon amour." You will be missed, my love.