Pre-battle Tensions.

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“ Since Britain still shows no sign of willingness to come to an agreement in spite of her hopeless military situation, I have decided to prepare and, if necessary carry out, a landing operation against England.” 

Operation Sea Lion (Unternehmen Seelöwe) , Hitler’s planned offensive against Britain, which would bear him triumphantly to London, was set for September 15, 1940.

Commission info here.

Oh yeah I totally forgot to post this to tumblr until I thought about it. Something for the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall

Gilbert and Ludwig celebrate their reunion among their citizens!

Olivia and Alexander Reunion

Olivia POV/1st Person

I walked to the edge of the camp looking for a somewhat high-ranking soldier to take me to the commander of the Continental Army.

“Halt! Who goes there?” a blue coat announced loud and clear. Bingo. I was wearing a simple light blue dress with a cloak, the hood covering my face.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” he questioned in a commanding voice. “Hello, my name is Olivia Hamilton and I need to see General George Washington,” I answered him.

“Why do you need to see his Excellency?” he asked, now cautious and suspicious. “Please, sir, it is urgent. I can only say it to his presence and no one more.” I pleaded.

“Miss Hamilton, I have been expecting you,” a man said with the same uniform, but with a blue sash and grey potato hair. Seriously what is up with that? He is the only one with potato hair. I looked around and the entire army with their guns out, but thankfully not pointed towards me.

Their expressions however are mixed with shock, confusion, and apprehension. I looked to the right of Potato Hair Man and saw someone that looks almost exactly like me. Vibrant red hair, violet-blue eyes, a little bump on the nose, cream skin with peach blush covering the freckles on each cheek, nose, and ear, and looks about 5’7 frame.

The only difference between us is that I was a few centimeters taller than him, while he had coily curls, I had more soft curls, my hair was longer than his and braided into a plait hanging on my right shoulder, while he was tied into a ponytail with a blue ribbon and a single curl that rested on the side of his face.

I took off the hood to show my face, violet-blue met violet-blue.

“Via?” he said in a small voice.

“Xander?” I said in the same tone.

We ran towards each other, not believing that our half was right in front of us. I trapped him in a hug that a mother does to her child. After our own died due to Yellow Fever, I had to take care of him all by myself. He still smelled of mint, ink, and parchment, now accompanied by coffee.

I flicked his forehead, “Ow! Via what was that for?!” he yelled at me, clearly in pain. “Where have you been! I received a letter back in ‘72 that the ship you were in sank and you died! I am your older sister and I demand you to tell me what happened.” I ignored his retort saying I was only older by 30 seconds.

He huffed and stomped his foot on the ground like the child he is, “Fine, I will tell you later.” I examined his face again, not liking the fact that his face was a few shades lighter than mine and the dark circles under his eyes.

“And pray tell, brother dearest,” I said in a cold, chilling voice. He knew that whenever I use this tone, he was done for, “Why is your face paler than usual and why does it look like you haven’t slept in days?”

He fidgeted under my stare and after a while, I got impatient, “Alexander George Hamilton!” said 22-year old stood up straighter at the commanding voice. “All right! I haven’t slept in weeks and not eat a lot in order to do the paperwork for His Excellency!”

I was furious, but also confused. “Hold on, the man who has the potato-like hair is George Washington?” Snorts and muffled laughter were heard from the soldiers, clearly not wanting to anger him. Speaking of him, I ran to him at a fast speed and flipped him over my shoulder. Lucky for him, we were on grass not pavement, and I dragged him by the leg to a nearby tent. I glared at any soldier who was in my way.

In the distance, I heard someone speak. “Should we…” trailed a man with blonde hair and a ridiculous helmet. “No, you should not, because once you make my sister angry, you are done for. But do not worry, she would just yell at him. I hope.” he added the last sentence in a hushed tone, but everyone heard.

Once we were inside, I did exactly what my brother said, yell at him. Once I was satisfied, we got out of the tent, and into the General’s office.

“I believe that you wanted to speak to me, Miss Hamilton?” he asked in a calm, but wary tone. “Yes, I want to be a spy and only you and your most trusted advisors can only know about this. I have already thought of a cover name; Denise Melody. Her background information is that her father and brothers are sick and in order to make money, she needs to become a maid. I will somehow turn my red locks black and speak with a Dutch accent. I will board a ship to England and be hired by the King. There I will write you letters about what I have learned.” He looked intrigued about my plan and asked for more details about it. In the end, he agreed.

But now, I need to force my younger, very stubborn brother to take more care of himself.

1944 mood, as i see it: a father endlessly relieved to see his eldest son, mixed in with a not-so-subtle power struggle for the future of the world. 

He might be living in Scandinavia for the most part, but there’s no denying that he’s just as much a UK brother as the rest of the lot is. It’s hard to miss

‘—until, in God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old—’

as i see it, arthur and a lot of people may have naturally looked to alfred—his eldest son, the heir, the industrial colossus—for deliverance. but it’s matthew who is by his side from the start. matt’s the second prince; the one at times overlooked and taken for granted by arthur. but it’s matt who steps into the breach in 1940; sending men and women and food and weaponry, so disaster doesn’t turn into annihilation. matt, reliable and grimly prepared to do the crucial job of holding the line, whilst america’s interventionists contended with its isolationists. in my headcanon, he’s quieter and cuts a seemingly less bold figure than his brother—but when the time calls for it, he’s icily steadfast and ruthless. the new world stepping forth to the rescue and liberation of the old? yes, but in more ways than one. 

Gillivia First Meeting

Lafayette woke up due to shouting, he quickly put on his uniform to see what was going on. French and American soldiers were fighting, Lafayette knew that there were tensions through the men, but he never knew it would get this bad. Before General Washington or Lieutenant General Comte de Rochambeau could say anything, he heard a voice.

“One…” a woman counted in a low, but commanding voice. Those who heard it turn to her, only to freeze in shock. The woman was wearing the deadliest, most cold, and most terrifying glare that Lafayette had ever seen.

“Two…” Now all of the soldiers were looking at her in shock and fear.

“Three…” The woman jumped off her horse and the Major General could finally get to observe all of her: she was wearing a red dress under her black cloak, her fiery red hair was braided into a plait and hanging over right shoulder, her violet-blue eyes reminded him of his friend; Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton, she had freckles dotted across her cheeks, nose, and ears, and had pink-red lips.

“Ah...I thought you were arriving the day after tomorrow, my daughter?” son général asked. Wait what?! My daughter?! She doesn’t look a thing like George Washington!

“Yes, Papa, but traveling through New York to Valley Forge as a Patriot is no easy feat.” The unknown woman mused, “I would be in a blue dress, but I thought it would be easier in red. New York and Pennsylvania are full of lobsters and loyalists.”

She looked at General Washington’s hair, face full of amusement and exasperation, “And you still have your potato hair,” she tsked her tongue, “I feel so sorry for you.” Snorts and laughter were heard around the men at the joke.

Finally, the commander in chief of the Continental army introduced the woman to the camp. “Everyone, this is Olivia Rachel Hamilton, she is a very important and very special asset in this war against the British. I expect you all to welcome her or welcome her back with open arms and respect her.”

Olivia Rachel Hamilton, where had he heard of that name before? Right! She participated in the Battle of Brandywine, Battle of Paoli, Battle of Setauket, she was with her brother during the Schuylkill River Incident, trained the under-trained soldiers, kept the army fed, and nursed the wounded back to health. Lafayette had heard of her name throughout the year about how kind, brave, and caring she was and her unknown reason to depart from camp. Yes, he had heard of her, but never seen nor met her.

He had heard some of the French and American soldiers, who obviously didn’t know her well enough as to why Washington would ask them that, especially of a measly woman even if she was Hamilton’s sister, he had heard slurs about her from her appearance down to her accent.

General Comte de Rochambeau introduced himself to Olivia with the help of translating from her twin brother.

“And Olivia this is-” General Washington got cut off by Olivia, “Major General Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, yes I know exactly who you are, monsieur.” Her Nevis accent was more pronounced when she spoke French. Upon hearing her say the French word perfectly, the soldiers from France froze.

“Oui, je connais le français avec l'espagnol, le danois, l'hébreu, le grec, le latin et l'italien. Voulez-vous savoir pourquoi le général Washington vous a demandé cela? Ce n’était pas à cause du rang de mon plus jeune frère jumeau, c’était parce que je l’avais mérité, par moi-même. Ne sous-estimez pas les femmes mais ne les surestimez pas non plus, ce sera votre chute avec votre fierté et votre ego. Bien que j'aime plutôt être sous-estimé, le choc sur ceux qui en ont est assez amusant, si je le dis moi-même.”

"Via, vous n'êtes plus âgé que de 30 secondes."

“Oui, Xander, cela signifie que je suis sur la bonne Terre de Dieu depuis 30 secondes avant toi.”

Lafayette could feel a start of a fight and so did Washington as he reminded Olivia about the introduction. “Ah! Yes, of course, Papa. It was a pleasure to meet you, Marquis.” Before anyone could start talking, she spoke again, “Now if everyone would excuse me, I need to take a nap, my journey was not a relaxing one.” She nodded and walked inside Alexander’s tent with said man escorting her.

She is one interesting lady Lafayette thought, before having sleep taking over him once again.

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Translations:

-his General

-“Yes, I know French along with Spanish, Danish, Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Italian. Do you want to know why General Washington asked that of you? It wasn’t because of my younger, twin brother’s rank, it was because I had earned it, by myself. Do not underestimate women but don’t overestimate them either, it will be your downfall along with your pride and ego. Though I rather like being underestimated, the shock on those who have is quite amusing, if I do say so myself.”

-“Via, you are only older by 30 seconds.”

-“Yes, Xander, that means that I have been on God’s good Earth for 30 seconds before you.”