transatlantic - philip hamilton x reader

→ in new york, you can be a new man

-1796, new york city

      You were harshly awoken from your slumber by your mother's violent shakes. "Y/N, up, Réveille-Toi," she whispered softly, even amidst of her hastiness. You languidly opened your eyes, and instantly noticed the ship's previously pungent movements were absent. "Cherie, we've arrived," your mother whispered as a slight beam crept upon her face. You practically jumped out of your bottom bunk and rushed to the meager circular window that sat near the dead centre on the vast wooden wall. You peered out, as much as you could, to see a long boat dock filled with jubilant children, women with frilly dresses and flowered hats, and their presumed husbands in buttoned trench coats.

     You squealed with joy, causing your mother to giggle. Life abroad a scrawny, unreliable ship proclaimed the "Louis XVII" was not as glamorous as you'd imagined. Scarce rations of meals, harsh weather conditions, and for you, seasickness, were routine on this hell hole in which you'd wasted your past 6 weeks upon. You prayed America would be worth the hardship, and your mother insisted it would be. Ladies danced upon the streets, as far as you could see. Ecstasy (not that kIND) seem to linger within the chilly Autumn Manhattan breeze.

    "Y/N, amour, I think we believe to get to disembarking," your mother prompted as she glanced over your shoulder. You agreed without hesitation and swiftly began to cram the last of your belongings into your luggage, as your mother did the same. You then changed from your pastel blue silk night gown into a casual dandelion day gown. You effortlessly combed through your H/C tresses, wanting to proceed to the enchanting city ahead of you. You and your mother made your way to the front of the ship, which now served as the very portal from the vessel and New York City.

     "Where will we go first?" You inquired as you struggled to haul your excessively large luggage. "I think we'll visit the Hamiltons first, and then we'll see about going around the city," she explained. You nodded in response, still uneasy about the introduction that would soon come. You wondered if your father was notable in America, as he was in France, for his courageous war efforts. Typically, upon people's realization that you were the daughter of Marquis De Lafayette, their attitudes practically transformed. Of course, not for your peers, that could care less about the American Revolution.

     For obvious reasons, people now pitied you, which you utterly despised. You two went through the necessary process of disembarking, and were finally in the land of the free. Even with the mere seconds you had spent on the land, you knew it was all your mother and father had talked it up to be. "Well, here we are," your mother cooed. She grasped your hand and physically dragged you. "Maman, calmez-vous," you chuckled, causing her to slow down. "I'm sorry, cherie, I'm just eager to see Eliza," your mother exclaimed.

     You nodded, and she lead you to a carriage, where an older man with a trench coat and chauffeur's hat lingered. "Ah, hello miss, where may I transport you to today?" The man offered, bowing at the sight of your mother. "I believe we'll be going to the Hamilton residence." She answered, causing a puzzled expression to form upon the man's face. "What's your name, ma'am?" He asked, visibly concerned. "Adrienne de Lafayette." His expression instantly changed into one mixed with shock and respect. "Oh, very well Madame Lafayette, this way," he stuttered, gesturing to the carriage.

     You both stepped in and began to ride towards downtown Manhattan. You examined the Americans that rushed past. They all looked so full of life, jubilant, unlike those in your hometown in France. Once your father, mother, and you, whom were merely an infant, returned to France, your father insisted upon moving to a smaller town, to be able to raise you in tranquility, and privacy from the public eye. That, of course, ended when your father enlisted to the French revolution. One duo in particular caught your attention, for some unjustified reason.