Lafayette x Fem!Reader
Requested on Wattpad
Prompt: Your father is involved in the war and has an important message to send to General Washington. However, he has taken ill and is kept in his bed, leaving you to deliver the letter. A charming Frenchman meets you in camp and finds out there’s more than one type of lady in America.
Warning: Language(again, barely)
1776. New York City.
What a dangerous place. I don’t mind it, it’s exciting knowing we’re doing this for freedom from the king, that maybe things are getting better.
Just not today.
Father coughs loudly as I bring in warm compresses to put on his chest to loosen his cough up. He caught the influenza, which could kill him if we aren’t careful. The maid, Rosie, and I have tied rags over our noses and mouths for protection. Father laughed at us, but I was glad he was happy.
“(Y/n), dear,” he says, voice raspy from coughing, “there is a letter that must be delivered to the general. It’s of the utmost importance.”
I nod slowly, gears turning in my head as I fluff some of his pillows. “Did Hercules send it?”
Hercules Mulligan is a close friend of my family, so close that we consider him family. He’s tailored me some riding breeches and coat out of one of my father’s old suits. I know, sounds improper for a lady, but who wants to ride a horse in a corset and hoop skirts? Not this girl.
Father nods, sitting up on his pillows I just set behind him before reaching into a drawer to pull a blank envelope that appears to be quite full of papers. “Wear your riding gear. It will be safer if you go as a man.”
Taking the information, I nod, tucking it into the waist of my skirt. “I will be as safe as I can possibly be. Now, you should rest, Father. It will help you get well.”
He chuckles as I dart out of the room, changing as fast as I can. Upon seeing me run out of the house in my breeches, the stable boy tacks up my horse for me. Father had told me on multiple occasions where our army’s camp is found, so it’s only the matter of the time it takes to get there. Hopefully, there and back before sundown.
Spurring my horse into a run, my ponytail flies behind me along with my coattails. I keep replaying what I’ll say to General Washington in my head. I don’t wish to embarrass or make a fool of myself in front of him and who knows how many other men.
Oh, before I left the house, I grabbed my father’s rifle, which is currently slung on my back. I plan to only use it if I need to; I’m not really a fighter unless provoked.
Bringing my horse down to a trot, I look around at the tents that just seem to be placed in random spots in the camp. I wince slightly as I see our men dirty and beaten, some more so than others. It makes me wonder, and probably some of the men as well, if freedom is worth this price to these men, the families they have.
“Excusez-moi, puis-je vous aider?” A French voice asks me from the left of my horse.
Stopping my steed, I look to the man that spoke. His most definitely curly black hair is pulled back in a bun, but there are a few curls that have escaped it over his forehead, which is actually a good look for him. I know a little French, but the only thing I understood was “Excuse me” from his sentence.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Ah, mes excuses, mademoiselle. I asked if I could help you in any way. My name is Marquis de Lafayette, if that is of any help.”
I smile, dismounting my horse and holding the reins. “I’m (Y/n) (L/n), monsieur. My father has something for General Washington to help with your fight against the British.”
His eyes light up as he smiles brightly. “Ah, but of course! Alexander said your father was our link to Hercules! Please, belle femme, follow me.”
So, I do. I heard of Alexander Hamilton from my father as well, he’s an amazing writer. However, and this is a direct quote of my father’s, “he truly does need to rein in his ego before it consumes him. His own pride will be his downfall if he isn’t careful.”
Lafayette keeps glancing at me, most likely thinking that it’s odd that I am not dressed as a lady that he’d typically see. I smirk to myself when I catch his eye and he clears his throat.
“Pardon my forwardness, belle, but why are you dressed as a man and carrying a gun?”
“I was wondering when you’d ask,” I laugh softly to myself. “Father thought it safer and I don’t wish to ride my horse while wearing a corset. The gun is for safety, in case I had a run-in with those damn Redcoats.”
He chuckles, nodding in understanding. “I see. Your father is a very smart man. Again, I ask your pardon, but why is he not here to deliver the letter?”
“He fell ill. A couple nights ago, he was out late helping some soldiers who have been injured and are being cared for a couple houses from ours and caught the influenza. He is recovering, though.”
“I am deeply sorry, please send him my regards to his health being restored,” he says. I can tell that he’s being sincere.
He stops at a tent and motions me towards it, taking the reins of my horse from me. I walk in, bowing slightly to the general and his right hand man Alexander Hamilton before handing them the envelope. Washington gives me a smile and thanks me for helping him and my father and offers to send a man with me to help me back home.
“Sir, I mean you no offense, but I am not helpless. I appreciate the offer, thank you. I hope and pray this war is short and victorious for you and your men.”
“You speak quite eloquently,” Alexander muses with a smile. “Where did you get your education?”
“King’s College, though only two years of it. I stopped because of the war. I would love to stay and chat, but I must return to my father.”
They nod in understanding and bid me a safe journey. Walking out, I’m greeted by a grinning Frenchman who offers to walk me back to where we met at the edge of the camp. I can’t help but agree to that face.
Goddammit, I need to stop thinking like that.
“Um, mademoiselle, may I ask you something that may seem a bit…forward and odd?”
I nod, taking the reins from him when he offers. I’m very curious as to what he would want to ask me, though I very much doubt it’d be too odd.
“Would you do me the honor of attending the next Schulyer ball? And…may I write you? Even though we have only just met today, you have become a ray of light during this dreary time in my life. You seem so different and I would love to get to know you better.”
I blink quickly, wondering if I heard him correctly. When he continues to look anxious about me not answering him and staying so quiet, a grin curls my lips.
“Monsieur Lafayette, I would be the one honored. Thank you for helping me today.”
He smiles brightly again and I laugh softly, mounting my horse. “Jusqu'à ce que nous nous reverrons, magnifique!”
I will have to tell him the next time we meet that I have no idea what he said to me, but I have a feeling it was sweet.
Wonder what my father will say. That’s a problem for another time.