History Sings to You (and the future watches)

Excellency (Right Hand Man)

George Washington kept his face stony, blank, on pure force of will, as he organized his thoughts. He had always first and foremost considered himself a pragmatist, and instead of endlessly ruminating the "gay" issue, he would listen to the song and only after it was done ask.

Of course, he had to ask quite througoghly afterward. This was a matter of utmost importance. He was giving his life for the States. He had to know if his sacrifices were going to be worth it.

A chorus sprang up in the darkness, like soldiers on an ambush, singing of the same theme. He has a feeling what kind of song this will be. He didn't need the reminder of their odds, nor the name of his enemy, Admiral Howe. He listens to the singers engage in an answering harmony, led by a beat of war drums which flows into silence.

A weight he didn't realize had been gone settles once again in his shoulders. With a frown he chastises himself, realizing he had let his guard down before this. Unacceptable.

Alexander's voice rises among a parade of male and female soldiers, declaring his ambition and thirst for war. George internally sighs. Alexander uncomfortably reminds him of himself in his younger years, far before he had learned the virtue of self-control. Every time Alexander said something about "dying on the battlefield in glory" George wanted to shake him by the shoulders until he saw sense.

"But there's only one man who can give us a command so we can rise up!" Alexander's actor sings, and George blinks. At least he now knew his leadership wasn't a complete failure. If he had been replaced, like most people in power intended to do, he would have been naught but a footnote.

Burr begins announcing his entrance, throwing phrases like "the moment you've been waiting for", and "the pride of Mount Vernon" around, while the chorus answers "here comes the general" as a sung fanfare.

The army men sitting in the audience quietly cheer when George's name is announced in the song. George is vaguely surprised they aren't louder, until he remembers the "gay issue" must still be weighing at their minds. George carefully steers his mind away of superfluous thoughts with years worth of practice, just in time for his own actor to be presented.

He has to raise an eyebrow at the irony of his actor being of color, while George's own fortune was built on the backs of negros working at his plantation. He doesn't have time to dwell on it, because his actor immediately starts singing about the horrible situation the American Army is in.

Alexander whistles lowly and says: "Right on character." Laurens nods but stops as soon as he notices George's stare from the corner of his eye.

"Quite so!" responds Lafayette, not bothering with formalities. George intends to remind him he is slandering his general, but stops himself at the last moment. It is not the time, and they are not in a formal setting. He'll let it slide for now.

"What are you talking about?" asks Mulligan in a whisper, that does almost nothing to hide his words. "Is his Excellency truly so pessimistic?"

"He isn't a pessimist, he's firmly rooted in reality," answers Alexander, though there's a tension in his fist that tell George he's embellishing the truth somewhat.

George realizes that the three Schuylers, Burr and Mulligan are people who hadn't had the opportunity of seeing the glimpses of George's true thoughts that he sometimes lets slip around his most trusted aides.

Almost as if on cue, his actor sings "let down my guard and tell the people how I feel a second?". A stab of envy and concern lance through George's heart. He could never be truly honest about his feelings with anyone else but Martha. It was a necessary pain to ensure people saw him as a stalwart and unshakable leader. It was the only way they would follow him.