#extra things

It had been a long swim; farther than Lafayette would have liked with precious cargo in tow, but he couldn’t afford to waste a second more. The rough open seas were more friendly than the waves that broke upon France, and Lafayette had seen them dash enough.

The boy could barely swim, his fins still short and under developed, but he had made it under Lafayette’s watchful eye. Across the vast Atlantic and up the brackish waters of the Potomac, to friendlier banks. Lafayette helped the child rest against the muddy bank of the river, and pulled himself out. Not far rested the home he had been told was Mount Vernon. And today it would become the new home for his son, Georges.

The boy’s namesake stood on the banks, having eagerly rushed to the river at the first spotting of tail splashing. He looked older than Lafayette remembered, but still warm and welcoming.

“Lafayette, dear boy—“

Lafayette was handed a dressing gown, which he tied around himself loosely. There was a time where nothing could have stolen the smile from his lips. Not famine, not cold. Not death. But today he could not muster that smile that helped keep him warm all those years ago. Washington took notice right away.

“Your letter arrived, but it was damaged. Is the boy unharmed?” He asked, glancing over at Georges, who clung hopelessly to a rock. Lafayette nodded weakly.

“His fins are not strong. He is too young to trek such large distances but….” his throat went dry. Washington surveyed the river, as if expecting to see another fin splash the surface.

“And Adrienne?”

“There was lead in the water.”

Washington fell silent. Lafayette sniffled and rubbed his nose against the damp clinging sleeve of his robe. “Come now, Georges. You need to stand.” The boy whined, but was pulled from the water by his father. His fins separated into two stout little legs. By human standards he looked like a child of three, though his years were multiples of that. The instant his toes touched soil he let out a godawful scream. It tore through him, barely knocked him from his tiny feet and back into the river had it not been for Lafayette holding him upright. Washington stood not ten feet away.

“You must walk to him.” Lafayette said, his voice steeled. “No matter how much it hurts you must walk to him.” The boy shrieked and turned, his torment too much for him. The human guards present squirmed with unease. Washington blanched. It was his first time truly seeing the pain it caused a mermaid to walk on land. Despite all the years Lafayette spent tenderly hiding it from him. Georges took one step, than another. Lafayette let go.

“Keep going.”

One tiny step. More screaming. Woeful blubbering tears ran down his fat cheeks, his little hands outstretched for Lafayette to pick him up and save him from this pain. His father swallowed thickly, his own grief choking his voice.

“They cannot take you if you cannot walk. Go to him.” Georges stumbled pitifully, righting himself but still in danger of toppling into the mud. The crying only got worse, with Lafayette standing white knuckled beside him in silent prayer. And then it was too much. Washington rushed forward. Georges was scooped up into a linen in his arms. There were tears on his little face, as well as the man he was named after.

“They’ll hunt him if he can’t walk.” Lafayette cried. “They’ll poison his water and watch him go mad.” Washington held Georges close and soothed his hiccuping cries.

“I won’t let that happen. He will walk, just not at this moment. I promise you he will be as strong young man on sturdy legs.”

Lafayette moved close and tucked himself under Washington’s free arm, and hoped he could stay longer.

“This isn’t fair…”