John hurried down the spiral staircase, hand gliding over the wooden railing as he hopped from step to step.

Once on the first floor, he walked to the dining room and opened the doors more forcefully then he'd intended.

His siblings turned to look at him, and so did his father, though he looked less welcoming towards his eldest son then his children.

"Dad." John called out, taking his place at the table. "We discussed my need for a servant and I recall insisting that I wanted no part in the whole thing."

"Yes, and I listened to your demands." Henry Sr. assured his son, who raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look John. I am under the impression you cannot adequately take care of yourself, and if you are to carry on the family name you will need aid seeming put together. But I listened to your request and hired a faerie who you will certainly have no problem ordering around."

"What? How am I supposed to not have a problem ordering another faerie to do things I could easily do myself?"

"Did you not notice the tribe he belonged to?" Henry Sr. looked surprised.

"Why does it matter what tribe he's from?"

"John, that boy is a shroom, the worst of faeries. He was born of a broken law and has no right staying with the tribes. Do you not see? He's worthless anyways."

John balled his fists and met his father's gaze. "I stand by my statement that it doesn't matter what tribe he comes from." He said coldly, anger evaporating into something more lethal. "What his parents are or what they did does not matter to me and should not affect how their son is seen. But you seem so keen on me having help, so I think I'll leave now and get to know the faerie who I'll be 'ordering around' apparently."

He stood up and smiled at his siblings, summoning all the patience he had so as to give them a kind grin, before leaving the way he came without so much as a backward glance to his father.

John made his way back up the staircase and into his bedroom, thankful, for the umpteenth time in his life, that he got the room by the stairs.

He pushed open the door and closed it behind him, twisting the key in the lock and listening for the satisfying click that meant no one could come in unless he wanted them to.

He sighed and leaned against the door, then turned around. Alexander Hamilton was sitting on the floor, seeming very unsure wether or not he was supposed to be doing so. John went and sat next to him, all his anger softening as he looked at the worried looking faerie.

"Hey." John waved and Alexander looked at him, eyes widening.

"Hello."

"So, you're a shroom?"

The boy looked away for a second before half meeting John's gaze. "Yes..."

"That's cool."

"Y-you don't... think I'm a disgrace?" It hurt John to see the broken hope in Alexander's eyes, and to know he was so used to being seen as a useless waste of space.

"No. I don't think whatever your parents did should become your problem, it's stupid to judge shrooms because they were born from a broken law, no one can choose how they were born, it's not within anyone's control."

He smiled, which made his whole face light up and warmed John's heart.

"If you don't mind me asking..."

"Please, ask away."

"What tribes your parents from?"

"Leafblood and woodheart I think." He sighed. "They never really talked about it."

"So you knew them?"

"For a certain amount of time, yeah." Alexander looked at the ceiling, an emotion John couldn't pinpoint any closer then loss flooding his gaze.

Not wanting to pry, John dropped the subject and they sat side by side in silence for a while.

John examined the boy, who he now knew was a shroom; his features all complimented each other and he looked all together very handsome with his curly auburn hair framing his face and his freckles dotting his cheeks like constellations. The most striking part of his face were his eyes. Too violet to be blue but too blue to be violet, his eyes seemed to take everything in at once and process it all, sorting it in his mind then moving on to something else.

Now John wasn't gay by any means, he wouldn't be able to call himself a Laurens if he was, but when Alexander's stunning eyes met his and the shorter boy smiled, he felt an urge to protect the shroom for anyone who wanted to harm him and spare him from all negative emotions.

John blinked and shook his head, forcing his focus onto the wall, away from the shroom's mesmerizing eyes.

"So..." Alexander struck you conversation. "I'm supposed to aid you."

"I believe so."

"But you seem fairly well put together." He continued, scanning John.

"Well that's not what my father sees." John sighed.

"I don't think what he sees is very important." Alexander pointed out, then shrugged. "But it is also what got me a job."

"I don't know, I'm not about to order you around like you're soul purpose is to do what I can do myself, but I can't just leave you without a job." John puzzled the question, rubbing his temples.

"I'll do as you say."

"I'm not going to—"

"I didn't finish." He raised a finger, then retreated, apologizing with a look but continuing to talk. "I'll do as you say when other people are around but maybe when we're alone we... we could... be friends...?"

The hope and hesitation in his voice when he said 'friends' made John want to hug the living daylights out of the boy, took his hand.

"That would be nice." John smiled and Alexander's entire face lit up.

"Really?"

"Yes." John stood up. "Now let's do something productive."