History Sings to You (and the future watches)

Only Just Begun (Alexander Hamilton)

Eliza feels a manic sort of calm as the room plunges into darkness. Nothing makes sense to her anymore, but she cannot fight it so instead she enjoys the feel of her Alexander's hand in hers. The room waits with bated breath for this... musical to start.

The wall before them shifts into another moving painting, one of a darkened stage. She feels her Alexander's shift forward, and she knows he must be like a lion waiting to pounce upon its prey. Alexander's desire for a legacy is nothing short of hunger, she has found.

A spotlight erupts into being upon a– Good lord is that a black man?

She can feel more than hear Lauren's surprised gasp that soon shifts into a wide disbelieving smile. Alexander, on the other hand, looks remarkably like an owl, his eyes are so wide.

The man starts talking rhythmically, almost like reciting poetry, and Eliza recoils at the words in tandem with her husband.

Bastard, whoreson, orphan. These are things her husband has desperately tried to run from, yet here, in this prison disguised as a living room, he is trapped against them.

She grips his hand tighter, and she is for the first time truly scared of being here. The unknown is such a frightful thing, she knows, but the truth can hurt like nothing else. She cannot imagine what her husband might do if he discovers that his legacy is a tarnished one.

Then the man (who is wearing what she supposes is a suit, yet it looks odd) mentions the words scholar and hero, and another man is shone upon by the light, who speaks of hard work and trading charters. She releases the breath she didn't know she was holding. Alexander's mood shifts to delighted in less than a second, but she is accustomed to such mercurial changes and simply smiles.

Another black man appears on stage, and she feels surprised again. If she is honest with herself, she never harbored an opinion on slavery before she met Alexander. She thought not much of it aside of not liking passing through the auctions or beatings.

Yet, she cannot help the feeling of wonder and amazement at black men carrying her husband's legacy, when he very desperately fought to free them.

She snaps out of it when Lafayette leans over and pronounces with a grin: "Stealing! My friend you did not deign to inform us of that, did you?"

Mulligan retorts "Leave him alone Laf!" and laughs at his undignified expression.

Alexander says "I did what I had to do!" with a smile that feels tense all around.

Then the hurricane came and Alexander gripped Eliza's hand tighter, a frown firmly on his mouth. That is when the puzzle piece clicked.

Alexander had told her of his publication on the Gazette. She had always wanted to read it, but she could never find a copy of it. He hadn't had a copy of it at all, not even as a reminder of how his talent had let him out of the island he lived in. It was a rarity that had always caught her attention, considering how proud Alexander was of each of his works.

Now she understood.

A hurricane. That single publication was about a hurricane that her husband had lived through, and it had been bad enough that he hadn't wanted to keep a reminder of it at all.

(Why hadn't he told her of this?)

The men kept coming, all in that odd half-singing, half-poetry, but then:

"Alexander Hamilton. My name is Alexander Hamilton"

"Yes!" Alexander's smile wide, almost frantic, full of triumph. Mulligan let out a cheer loud enough for Burr of all people to send him a disapproving look. Lafayette ruffled Alexander's auburn hair, leaving it frazzled in all directions. Laurens slung an arm over his shoulder.