**_We can end this war at Yorktown, cut them off at sea, but,

For this to succeed, this is someone else we need

I know

Hamilton!

Sir, he knows what to do in the trench

Ingenuitve and fluent in French, I mean-

Hamilton!

Sir, you’re going to have to use him eventually

What’s he going to do on the bench, Ami?

Hamilton!

No-one has more resilience

Or matches my practical tactical brilliance

Hamilton!

You want to fight for your land back?

Hamilton!

I need my right-hand man back!

~Hamilton

_**"They are always two steps ahead of us," Eiran sighs, chucking his pointing staff onto the war plan table before rubbing his temples.

Anastasia places a hand on his. "I’m sure we’ll figure out a way."

Eiran softens slightly at her touch. "I sure do hope so."

Anastasia swallows. She’s had an idea for a while but it is incredibly risky. She turns to the other men sitting at the conference table, "Gentleman, could you just give us a moment?"

They all obey and leave the room, leaving Anastasia and her husband alone in the dimly lit room.

Eiran removes his hand away from his face. "What’s wrong, bubbles?"

"I have an idea," she says slowly. "It might be a bad one but it’s worth a shot."

Eiran frowns slightly, "What is it?"

"I think we should draft a letter to Alric asking for help," she blurts out.

Eiran’s eyes widens and he pulls away, standing up. "Are you insane?"

"He might help!"

"He is the _enemy_-"

"His is our _friend_-"

"_Was. Was_ our friend. He lost that title years ago."

"I think he would help."

"Oh, Bubbles," Eiran chuckles darkly. "You are so naive.." He shakes his head.

Anastasia stands up, glaring at him. "We have to at least try. If it fails, what’s the worst that could happen?"

Eiran stays silent for a moment. He looks at the maps and chess pieces representing troops before sighing, "Okay, fine. We’ll try. But don’t get your heart broken when he doesn’t answer."