Hamilton Drabbles/Oneshots

Butler pt. 2

Hey remember that thing I wrote about Aaron becoming King George III's prisoner/butler??? Here's part two.

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Aaron's job as a butler didn't seem to bad. He was taken to a completely empty room and forced to listen to a guard about all of his duties as butler. Then he was immediately put to work on cleaning, bending over to pick things up, and reading what King George called 'fanmail'. (Aaron thought they were more like death threats).

Once it was night time and the King was climbing into bed, Aaron was immediately prepared to escape. The the bedsheets together (there were a bunch in his overly luxurious sleeping quarters), tie something heavy to one end while the other end is tied to the bed, and climb out the window.

But, the King was taking longer than he expected to go to fucking sleep.

"Tell me a story." The king ordered, snuggling into his blankets and clutching one of his 5 red silk pillows to his chest. Aaron set the glass of water he requested down on a coaster before staring at him. All day he had kept the same poker face, eager to please look. Last thing he wanted was for the King to suspect his escape.

The king continued, "I think a love story would be absolute devine right now. Wouldn't you agree?" Aaron couldn't help it. He had to let a comment out. One can hold back only so much saltiness before being an asshole.

"Yes I sure do love gross, sappy heterosexual romance. So unique with storyplots that are NEVER overused." He snapped, rolling his eyes. The king glared for a moment before ignoring the comment and pulling his pillow closer.

The king sighed before commanding, "Better make it good." Aaron stared before walking over to the nearby desk. His shoes clicked on the hardwood floor, a satisfying noise. He had already decided that when he went back to America, he would take the shoes with him. And most of the expensive items within the castle that he had already pocketed. He had about 12 spoons, 3 forks, and 1 butter knife in his inside pocket.

Aaron took the chair from the desk and slid it over beside the bed. It screeched across the floor, causing the king to sit up in surprise. Aaron smirked. "I'm so sorry your highness, did I disrupt your beauty sleep?" The king growled and layed back down, pulling the blankets up to his neck and curling into a ball.

He was so childish. King George's cheeks were red with anger and he had them puffed out as if he were about to throw a tantrum. Then he snapped, "I don't even want to hear a story from you anymore, American scum. Go to your quarters. Now."

As much as Aaron wanted to, he had to make sure the king fell asleep. His plan would be ruined if he was awake. "My king," he mumbled grumpily, "I'm dearly sorry for snapping. Would you still like to hear a story?" The king was quiet for a second before nodding and turning over. He was too angry to look at his butler.

Aaron was quiet for a second before beginning.

"There once was a young boy by the name of George,"

Kids like that right? Aaron thought, When their name is in the story? He continued, "And George was a simple boy in a simple village. But his father demanded he get married. But, George didnt want to just find a girl and then stop. He wanted-"

The king made a sort of noise that interrupted his story telling. Aaron prayed to God it was a snore. It wasn't though. The king asked very quietly, "What if I- HE doesn't want a girl?" Aaron had to hold back his laughter. He didn't exactly hate anything like that. Aaron actually supported the idea more than anything. He just never thought the KING OF BRITAIN would like that stuff.

"Alright," He continued, "So George didnt just want to pick a boy and be done. He wanted to fall in love. Truly, madly, deeply... so he went and walked around, not exactly sure how love worked anyway. It was confusing. Was he supposed to just wait to it to happen? Did it take time? Would he just have to become friends with somebody and then wait for something to spark? George was confused.

"But soon enough he wandered to a bakery and met a young boy by the name of-"

"Ronnie."

Aaron froze and stared at him. "No that name is stupid." He snapped. The king sat up and glared at him.

"Well I think it's rather cute. Finish the story." He ordered, snapping his fingers. Aaron glared right back and crossed his arms. There was no way in hell he would continue the story with his own name.

Aaron growled, "So George and Charles-"

King let out an offended gasp and threatened, "Use the name Ronnie or I'LL. BEHEAD. YOU." Aaron didn't feel like getting beheaded or going back down to that disgustin cell and uncomfortable bed. So he instead took a deep breath and continued on with the story.

"So George and Ronnie began to talk."

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"You may now kiss the bride, the priest said before Ronnie and George shared a passionate, beautiful kiss. The end." Aaron finished his story, barely able to stay awake. He wasnt sure why he was so tired. Usually he was able to stay awake for at least 96-100 hours before dozing off. Now he seemed to be completely fine.

The king was snoring softly, had been for about 10 minutes. He actually didn't look like a terrible person when asleep. King was still in a ball, clutching the pillow as if it were a teddy bear, and Aaron realized the King never took off his bedazzled, shining crown. Aaron shut off the light beside the king's bed before taking the crown and setting it on the ground beside the bed.

Next was the escape.

Aaron marched to his sleeping quarters and got to work, double knitting the sheets and blankets amd pillow cases together. But, he hadnt estimated how far of a drop it was. So he got some clothes from the closet and tied those onto the chain as well. Oddly enough, the closet was filled with women's dresses rather than men's clothing.

Once it was long enough he tied it to a large history book from the shelf nearby. He dropped the chain out the window and watched it perfectly fall just a foot or so above the ground. Then he tied the other end to the bed that stuck to the floor with its weight.

Aaron stood on the ledge of the window holding the rope tightly in his hands. He looked out over the view, smiling a little at how beautiful Britain was. It wasn't too bad of a place to be. Maybe later, after the war, he might come back for a simple domestic life. But he doubted that greatly.

"Goodbye, asshole." He whispered before beginning his descent.