My Dear Hamilton {Lams}

Arrival

The air of the city was unfamiliar, yet enticing. It brought excitement, liveliness, the bustling business of the streets bringing a rush of adrenaline. It was nothing like the calm of South Carolina, and Geneva and London held a different kind of business. People simply going about their days, masses heading to and from work. New York was different, here, there was a flare of rebellion, a patriotic spark of action in the midst of chaos.

John Laurens had only just arrived, and already he felt it. He wished to be a part of that rebellion, to fight for the freedom of the country he loved. That's what he was here to do, to join the Continental Army and give his life to America.

Though a bit disappointed at his father interfering so he couldn't be on the front lines, John still had hope to get there someday. For now, he would work directly with the General, something he wouldn't necessarily mind for the time being.

Stepping into the camp was somewhat surreal for the new soldier, John felt as if he must be dreaming. The scattered bunkers and men in uniform brought a smile to his face. He knew that war wasn't pretty, that he could die in an instant if attacked by a brit, but he couldn't help but have a childish view of it. In his young mind, this was the best thing that could happen to him. He had finally been able to go through with what he wanted, against his old man's wishes.

The camp appeared more organized than John had expected, but then again, this wasn't the front lines, they were practically behind the scenes, merely training and planning for now. The soldiers were going about their days, some moving through the camp with a clear goal, as others lounged around, presumably taking a break. The overwhelming amount of red, white and blue from the uniforms left John with a feeling of inferiority; he didn't have his uniform yet.

John decided to approach one of the soldiers who didn't look busy; he was simply assembling his gun. The man was sat on a log, haunched over as he focused on his task. The brunet had his hair tied back, looking sleek and well kept, and though he had powdered his hair to appear white, John could still spot hints of brown. He appeared a bit frail, but it was difficult to tell how strong a man really was by just looking at him.

"Excuse me sir, sorry to bother, but do you by any chance know where General Washington is?" John asked, doing his best not to sound nervous. He was used to talking to scholars, to the wealthy and noble, and although some may find that more nerve wracking, that's what was normal for him- but he had no experience acting in a military setting.

"Non, I 'aven't seen the General zhis morning. You're new?" The man asked, his voice laced with a heavy french accent.

John held back a sigh of relief at how casual this was, he was being spoken to as an equal. He nodded, clearing his throat. "Yes, I'm new... my father's acquainted with the General, I've come to be one of his aides-de-camp."

The frenchman's expression brightened, and he set his gun down, stepping closer to John. "Ah, you must be John Laurens, Washington said you'd be arriving soon." He offered his hand, a smile accompanying it.

"Yes, that's me." John took his hand, giving a firm shake as he returned the man's smile. "And you?"

"Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert de Motier, Marquis de Lafayette." The man replied, leaving John dumbfounded. He had never met someone with such a long name, and wasn't sure what to even call this man. He must have noticed John's blank expression, as he let out a chuckle. "Just Lafayette is fine."

"Ah, okay, well it's a pleasure meeting you, Lafayette." John said, pulling his hand back. He could only hope that the rest of the soldiers were friendly like him, but John knew that wasn't likely.

"The pleasure's mine, Monsiour Laurens." Lafayette stepped back, a thoughtful expression on his lightly freckled face. "The General may be training the troops to the west, but I'm not sure."