Yours Truly

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Requested by: jemapellelafayette
OC: Lea Williams

Tick, tock. The grandfather clock counted down the time, the only sound in the room. In the corner of this room, a woman was furiously writing at her desk. Her quill was pressed hard against the parchment as she tried to complete the letter she was writing.

When she finally signed her name, the last part, she jumped from her chair and rushed out into the main hall of her home. Rushing to a servant, she hurriedly said, "Make sure this is sent immediately. It's urgent."

The servant looked at the addressed letter and seemed surprised. "Are you sure, miss?" She nodded, running a hand over her hair.

"Yes, I'm sure." Catching her breath, she went back towards the study. There was the weight of worry on her shoulders, worry for what might come. If that letter wasn't delivered immediately, things would go downhill.

From behind her, the servant raised his hand, as if asking something. But he stopped, dropping it back down. He placed the letter on the side table by the doorway, before heading another direction.

The only thing he was wondering was why the maiden was sending a letter to Alexander Hamilton, out of all the people in the city.

Almost two years prior had the maiden acquainted herself with him. It was an unlikely meeting, mostly a bump on the street and then a conversation that led to their friendship.

Of what she could remember, she knew he had been most encouraging of her. Actually interested in her, compared to other men who barely paid attention, he asked what she was reading.

"I see you're educating yourself." He had nodded to the book in her hands. The book had been Common Sense, a rather new and thriving book in the city. Everyone was reading it and learning what the man had to say.

She remembered how he leaned over and looked closely, like he'd never seen the book in his life. "Oh, yes. His words have caught my attention." The maiden could still picture how he had chuckled at that.

Alexander had replied, "Well, you seem to be quiet enthralled by that book, Lea. I have seen my share of women reading that book, but none of them have actually looked at it with such promise like yourself."

When he addressed her by name, something inside of her changed. They were on first name terms and had only met minutes prior. That was a good sign, a sign to the start of their future relationship.

Skipping ahead a few months, the two of them had gotten to know one another well. Now sharing their love of books, the two bonded over tales. There were late nights where one would be reading Shakespeare aloud, while the other was half asleep.

The one thing that Lea could clearly remember was the stories about the delegates at the conventions. At the time, Alexander was apart of the convention. It was an honor to be there with such men, he always said, but such a pain.

"You shouldn't forget who you are among those men, Alexander. All they want is the downfall of this nation as it seems. You need to convince them otherwise." Lea had been pouring a glass of a foreign drink, when she spoke to him. He had been sitting in the corner of the room, glasses on his nose.

"But they don't understand. I try, trust me. If there was one word to describe them, it would be stubborn." He flipped the page of the book he held.

Lea remembered shaking her head, saying, "I think you need more confidence. Washington trusts you and what you say. Show that to those men." But maybe her advice had taken a wrong turn for her friend.

Months later, Alexander wrote to her, saying how he had been appointed to the cabinet. It was a moment she remembered greatly, how thrilled and proud she felt. In an instant, she wrote back, but never received a reply.

Her answer as to why she hadn't gotten a reply was soon introduced. She heard word that Alexander had been involved in an affair with a woman by the name of Maria Reynolds. Lea had known of the name, but never cared to look into it. All she felt was worry for her friend, no sympathy whatsoever.

Time passed and the two began writing once again. It took some time for her to understand what Alexander had been going through and where he was. In the gap they hadn't been corresponding, he had lost his son. Lea replied, giving him and his wife lots of sympathy.

The more letters they wrote back and forth, included the name Aaron Burr. She still had the letters that Alexander criticized the man and identified every flaw. Lea made sure to not say something wrong, or she might have offended what her friend believed in.

However, the conversation of Burr grew even more. Each letter was even harder to read, harder to understand. Alexander was on the last straw with this character and Lea knew it.

That was when she got the letter. The letter she so furiously replied to and ordered to be sent off. Having not heard from him in three weeks, it was obvious she had grown worried.

But what was written was nothing like she had ever read from her friend. Alexander's handwriting turned slanted every line, blending the ink together. The last line of the letter shocked her the most. In essence, it read that the two were to duel in a few days.

Had the letter arrived sooner, she knew she could have done something. Lea could have at least talked some sense into him, to remind him what a man of dignity he was. Letters took days to reach the opposite person, but she didn't have days.

Crouching over her desk in the study, Lea prayed that her friend would survive. If he went to duel Burr, the consequences were endless. And the last thing she wanted was the receive a letter, not from Alexander, but from his wife, announcing his death.

Time was ticking away. Lea searched through her letters, praying there was some sort of hopeful sign. Her eyes recognized his Daniele signature and how fierce it had gotten over the course of their correspondence. Alexander always signed yours truly at the end of his letters.

But then she realized something. On the most recent letter, where he declared the duel, he hadn't signed that way. Lea held the letter to her chest, sobbing. What had come over him to make him decide to duel?

She knew the Alexander who had spent his nights reading, until the morning. She didn't know the Alexander who challenged men to duels. Something had changed in the time they hadn't written, and it was bothering her.

Her letter needed to get to him. That was all that mattered to her. If it didn't arrive, she would go to the duel and make an irreversible choice. Little did she know, he had already made a decision that would cause more damage than the actual duel.

And no letter was going to stop him.

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A/N: Thank you jemapellelafayette for the request! I wrote this a little differently, switching between past and present times, but I hope it turned out well to your liking. And guys, thanks for all the reads and support again, it means so much.

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