This is my entry for day 5 of @hamiltonholidaycalendar this year! This was so much fun last year and look! i’m on time this year! I’m posting this a day early because i will be too busy tomorrow to do this!
Please make sure to check out the mods of this lovely event @stegekay and @accidentally-a-writer as i’ve said in previous posts they are amazing! Thank you both for hosting!!
This is an older oneshot of mine that i just finished up and i think it came out to a nice little mystery. this was actually really fun to come up with and i think i will continue this as a series!
Hamilton had been riding all night with the sole purpose of making it back to headquarters in one piece. His shoulders ached and his legs were sore.
“Keep going, you have to make it,”
He kept saying to himself. “Please let me make it on time.”
As Alexander felt darkness creeping into his vision, he decided it was best to stop for a short rest. Bringing the horse to a halt, he looked around. The realization hit him like a truck.
Alexander wasn’t sure how long he has been lost in the woods. Whether it was five minutes or five years was unknown to him, all he knew was that the cycle of aimless wandering was getting annoying.
Eventually, he had found himself in a dense part of the forest he was sure he’d never seen before. The trees towered over him and the branches stretched so far out that Alexander could not even see the sky. It was endless wandering through darkness trying to get back to camp.
At times, Hamilton found himself wondering if he would make it back to camp alive. You see, when he has been riding before, Alexander was being chased by a dozen redcoats. Or maybe is was two dozen? Oh well, it didn’t matter now. Alexander was going to die.
There was no shelter, only trees for miles and miles in all directions. Hamilton collapsed himself against a stump, giving into the fact that he would never make it back to Washington.
Morning came and Alexander walked. And walked. And walked.
But there was no where to go. Everyday he rode out further into the woods, getting more lost with each step. Things got even worse when his horse was shot out from under him sending him toppling to the floor with a thud.
He had heard the redcoats coming. He should have started running. But he hadn’t, he had told himself it was the exhaustion, and look what had happened. He was on the ground, barely being spared the pain of a horse falling on him, with a splitting headache, most likely to be captured and hanged.
He tries to sit up, has to get up. He needs to make it back to Washington, let him up-
A boot to the stomach sends him spiraling back to the ground.
If there was one thing General George Washington was right now, he was terrified.
He was terrified because Alexander Hamilton had not returned from
his meeting in Harlem over a week prior. None of the scouts had been able to find him.
The Congressmen Hamilton had met with to discuss the exchange of necessary supplies met Washington with the same confusion. Hamilton had left the manor as scheduled. Nothing suspicious about it.
The next week the General received a suspicious looking letter, with an address from all the way in England.
His breath hitched as soon as he laid eyes on it. That was Hamilton’s handwriting.
