Mr Jefferson is Coming Home (Jamilton)

Chapter 1

A/N: 

Welcome! I'd like to say a few things before you start reading:

- this is a slow burn romance, so please be patient, it'll be worth your time;

- I'll try to include some cool historical facts and websites links in the footnotes every time I can. Feel free to comment with more information if you're also a history geek <3

- if you like the story, please consider voting for your favourite chapters and comment them, it would mean the world to me.

- I'll occasionally use some French, but you'll always find the English translation in the bottom notes! (I used google translate, so if you're French and want to correct it, please do it.)

CW: there is no explicit sex, only some implicit references; there is some physical violence (mostly people punching each other) and references to characters' death (mainly in the past).

***

"Home sweet home," Thomas thought while finally stepping on American soil again.

He'd been in France for years and had grew quite used to his routine in Paris, but time had come for him to return to Monticello – home, at last. It was 1789, France was following them to revolution, and America was finally free from King George's tyranny.

As soon as he stepped on the dock, the tall man firmly walked through the big crowd that had gathered in the harbour to welcome him, shaking some hands on his way and quickly withdrawing into his carriage, distancing himself from the cheering crowd with a sigh of relief. He smiled and waved his gloved hand from inside the coach, while some servants rushed to bring his luggage in; in less than twenty minutes, off he went. Thomas's smile instantly relaxed - he didn't really like to be the focus of everyone's attention - and he admired the beautiful landscape rolling by right out of his carriage window, recollecting all the sweet memories of his life in Virginia.

His six-weeks journey on a ship had been a real torture – Thomas was an intellectual, but also a man of action and, above all, a man who enjoyed social relations. After spending all these weeks reading and writing, he couldn't wait to see his beautiful mansion, to hug all his old friends – he missed James so much – and meet new people. He'd worked as US ambassador in France for five years, and had become a very good friend with Marquis Gilbert de Lafayette; the man was planning a revolution in France, first-handed influenced by the victory of the former American colonies against Great Britain. If they won – he claimed with a passion that Thomas had always respected and treasured – France would also become a Republic at last.

Lafayette was always talking about his revolutionary companions, with whom he'd spent the years of his youth, a time full of ideals and dreams of freedom. Mulligan, Laurens and, of course, Hamilton. That name had caught Thomas's attention from the first time he'd heard it – a bastard son of a divorced woman from the Caribbean, who had become Washington's right-hand man and, according to the latest news, the first Secretary of Treasury of the US. He still remembered the night when Gilbert first talked about him: he was telling Thomas of the Battle of Brandywine, when he'd been shot in the leg and had been forced to stay in bed for two full months to recover. He said he'd felt as if he was going crazy, waiting alone in a room while all his fellow soldiers were fighting without him; until one morning a short-tempered boy – whose eyes were of the most beautiful blue he'd ever seen – had burst into his room, followed by a very quiet man with a smiling freckled face. They'd introduced themselves as his new roommates, and from that moment on they'd also became his acquired brothers. Gilbert had always said that he'd instantly fallen in love with Hamilton, but that Alexander's affections laid elsewhere – probably referring to Elizabeth Schuyler, Thomas had concluded.

It would be nice to finally meet some of them. But family first. Thomas felt a well-known pang of pain at the thought of his former wife, Martha, who'd died two years before his departure. He'd been so depressed that the Congress had sent him to France to divert him from his pain to something more profitable – but now, while coming back to Monticello, Martha's memory hurt like an open wound once more. No doubt he'd had a lot of fun in France, especially with all the French ladies – and, sometimes, gentlemen – and Sally was there too, but he'd never really moved on after the death of his one and only love.

Thomas waved those painful thoughts away with a harsh gesture of the hand; he didn't have time for love, he was a man of reason, for heaven's sake! He would focus on work again... and maybe relax a little after his long journey. His mind was already at work: he was dreaming about all the parties he could threw in Monticello, designing a new style for his beautiful house's interiors, and scheduling a plan to plant all the different specimen of vegetables he'd found in Europe, not to talk about all the delicious dished he absolutely wanted Madison to try. However, as soon as he set foot in his study and looked at his desk, all his plans were swiped away by a letter from George Washington – nay, from the President – that urged him to join the Cabinet. It wasn't a shock really, but Thomas wasn't expecting work to call so soon. Two days later, after a good sleep and a brief visit to Martha's grave, he packed some of his belongings and got in his carriage, on the road once more, heading for New York.

While watching his beloved Monticello becoming smaller and smaller, Thomas thought about Gilbert's farewell in Bordeaux, right before he boarded on his ship.

"You still have time to change your mind and stay," the Frenchman had repeated for the third time in the same hour.

"You won't persuade me, my dear Gilbert, I have to go," Thomas had answered with a smile.

"Why are you so willing to leave me?"

"You should understand it more than anyone else – I'm homesick. You've always told me how you missed home when you were fighting in the revolution, you know how it feels like."

"But you have nothing there waiting for you – your family is here, your friends are here, you would do a great job supporting our international relationships if you stayed, and the revolution is coming –

"I'll leave the revolution to you, Gil, you know I'm not a soldier and my work here is done. I have much more to offer to my own nation, and I'm eager to defend our democracy now that we're finally free – I've heard that Hamilton is already giving problems to Congress with his crazy ideas."

"That's his specialty," Gilbert had giggled.

"Je ne peux pas rester, mon cher Gilbert. Mais tu me manqueras terriblement."

"Je sais, mon amour. Peu importe ce qui vous rappelle, j'espère que cela vous apportera le bonheur que vous méritez," he'd pressed a soft kiss on both Thomas's cheeks, lingering a second too long and filling his lungs with Thomas's perfume before going away.

Wondering about his friend's words, Thomas softly touched his cheek where Gilbert had last kissed him, asking himself what was really the reason why he'd returned. Whatever it was, it was probably waiting for him in New York.

***

Notes:

"Je ne peux pas rester, mon cher Gilbert. Mais tu me manqueras terriblement." = "I can't stay, my dear Gilbert. But I'll miss you terribly."

"Je sais, mon amour. Peu importe ce qui vous rappelle, j'espère que cela vous apportera le bonheur que vous méritez," = "I know, my love. Whatever is calling you back, I hope it'll bring you the happiness you deserve."

If you're interested to know more about Sally's history, you can start your search from here: https://www.monticello.org/thomas-jefferson/jefferson-slavery/thomas-jefferson-and-sally-hemings-a-brief-account/

Despite claiming that "all men are created equal", Thomas Jefferson was a slave owner and suspected black people to be inferior: "Comparing them by their faculties of memory, reason, and imagination, it appears to me, that in memory they are equal to the whites; in reason much inferior" (Notes on the State of Virginia, 1785). However, after his wife's death, he started an affair with one of his slaves, Sally Hemings, who is believed to be Martha's half-sister, and had six children with her. While in Paris, Sally was free (I think slavery was sort of abolished in France during the revolution) and worked as a domestic servant; before returning to Monticello, she negotiated her terms with Jefferson, asking for some privileges and freedom for their future children.