Amor vincit omnia
Disclaimer: „The Sound of Music" certainly doesn't belong to me. I'm only playing around with it a bit.
AN: The title of the story is Latin and means: "Love wins over all". And I'd like to get a beta-reader for this story because English isn't my native language.
Chapter 1: The last step
The soft sound of rolling rails came through her dream, waking her up. Maria turned around on her belly, trying to keep to her sleep by pulling the pillow over her head and pinning her eyes together. Her dream just had been so nice: She'd been in the captain's arms, looking up in his deep blue eyes and he'd smiled at her tenderly. But now she heard a soft chuckle nearby and wrinkling her forehead she turned again and opened her eyes, finding herself in the luxurious sleeping compartment of a train. Just opposite to the bed on a blue upholstered bank, immaculate dressed, shaved and combed as always, sat the man she'd just dreamed of, holding a news paper and drinking from a cup of coffee. He sat the cup down, folded his news paper neatly and rose up.
"Oh, captain!" Maria sighed.
"Captain?" He was coming to the bed, one eyebrow raised. "And here I thought I wouldn't look like a sea captain at all!"
"Who told you that?" Maria asked, stretching and smiling at him.
"My children's former governess – and she's a woman of indefinite wisdom, you know?" He sat down on her bedside, took her hand, turned it around and placed a tender kiss on the inside of her wrist.
Maria used her free hand to comb through his dark hair. "Your children's former governess was right – you indeed don't look like a sea captain. But you very much look like Captain von Trapp this morning."
"Actually I'd rather look like your husband, Frau von Trapp," Georg responded, bending over her and kissing her forehead. Rising up again he put the strain of hair back Maria's touch had made falling in his face. "I take it you slept well? Shall I order your breakfast now?"
"Oh my! Georg!" Maria sat up, her hands at her cheeks. She felt how she was blushing and for a tiny moment she wished herself back in the small bed in the cubicle at Nonnberg Abbey. Why could she never do something right? Just yesterday she'd kneeled in front of a priest with Georg, swearing to God and herself that she would do everything to become the wife Georg needed, everything to make him happy – and then, only a few hours later … "Oh, Georg, I'm so sorry!" she almost cried.
"What about, darling?" He took her hand again, entwining his fingers with hers, a gesture already wonderfully familiar to her.
"Falling asleep while you were in the bathroom!" Maria smiled awkwardly at him. "Why didn't you wake me?"
Georg came a bit closer, laying his arm around her shoulders. "What do you want? The honest or the charming answer – though the last one is true too."
"Under these circumstances I want both," Maria replied, laying her head against him. From the first time he'd taken her in his arms, she'd felt a security in it she'd never known before. He was her haven, her shelter, her home and her confidence, but at this morning all of this wasn't enough. She wanted something more. There was a longing for his closeness only cuddling to him couldn't satisfy. She wanted more, she wanted to touch not only the fine fabric of his grey jacket, but his skin beneath. As much as she'd always adored his elegance, now she would have liked to have him a bit less up-buttoned.
"The charming and the honest answer: I didn't wake you because you looked so lovely and sweet in your sleep," he said now. "And for the honest, but not too flattering answer: I was rather tired myself. You know, I hadn't got much sleep the night before."
"Ah – celebrating your last night as a free man with dear Max?" Maria chuckled.
"Well, we would have liked to, but you know we had to deal with a bunch of very excited children – and there wasn't any governess to help us. And even worse: Knowing how my future wife thinks about whistles and commands I couldn't even use my captainly authority on them."
"My poor darling!" Maria kissed his cheek. "How you must have suffered!"
"It became even worse in the morning!" he complained, but his eyes smiled within. "At five o' clock Gretl ran through the hall first time to ask Liesl if it would be time to get ready now. From then on she asked every ten minutes and between the sound of her little feet trampling along I got my sons' arguing about the best way to keep Kurt's socks up for once, Brigitta's crying because she couldn't find the hair tie she wanted to wear, Louisa's nagging about her dress looking much too girly and Liesl's rather loud attempts to calm her siblings down."
Maria looked a bit confused at him. The children's bedrooms were in the left wing of the villa while Georg's room was at the other side. "How did they come so close to you? I told them not to leave their hall before breakfast."
Now it was him who was slightly blushing. "Well, they remained in their hall. Only I was there too." He sighed and explained: "With the master bedroom undergoing its redecoration I'd told Franz to lay my uniform out in my bed chamber."
"And where were you sleeping, Georg?"
"In your room," he confessed. "With all the wedding preparations Frau Schmidt hadn't managed to clean it up yet, so your pillows smelled still nicely after you …" He pulled her a bit closer, sinking his mouth into her hair. "I missed you very much, my heart." Suddenly he chuckled. "You should have seen Sister Maria Desideria's face as I came out of your room in the morning! Our resident dragon obviously thinks it highly inappropriate for the bridegroom to sleep in the bride's bed in the night before the wedding – even when she's not in."
"She was in the villa as my chaperone – and having her there was your wish!" Maria reminded her new husband.
"I didn't want someone to talk badly about you," Georg answered, wrinkling his forehead.
Maria reached up for smoothing the angry wrinkles out. She knew how much the rumours about their engagement – people whispering that the wealthy Ritter von Trapp would only marry the poor governess because he'd impregnated her – had upset Georg. Therefore he'd wanted Maria to go back to the Abbey during the time of their engagement. Luckily the Reverend Mother had been on Maria's side in not liking this idea much. Practical thinker as she was, she'd suggested to send Sister Maria Desideria, the retired mistress of novices, to the von Trapp villa for the eight weeks until the wedding. Of course, it hadn't stopped the rumours entirely. One day Louisa had come back from school, crying because one of her classmates had told her what she'd heard in her mother's salon: That the governess had played her cards well by seducing her employer and becoming pregnant and that inviting Sister Maria Desideria now would be like "closing the stable's door after the cows are out."
Comforting Louisa hadn't been too hard a task – it hadn't been her first experience with people talking about her family. However, calming Georg had been rather difficult. He'd raged for days and even now he was scowling again.
Maria stroked his cheek, turning his face to her again and smiling. "What do you think the children are doing now?" she asked.
He promptly laughed. "Knowing them I'd say they make Max going up at least once before eleven o'clock."
"Georg, you're a fine friend!" Maria scolded him gently. "I find it very nice from Max to take over looking after our children for four weeks. I only hope they won't make it too hard for him."
"Considered we're talking about my dear old friend Max, I suppose the hardship will be on us afterwards," Georg replied. "He'll spoil them rotten and they will forget all about discipline."
"I'm sure you'll be able to maintain discipline anew when we're back, my captain." Maria shifted in his arm. Actually she needed to get up and go into the bathroom, only she felt awkward about showing herself in the nightshirt she was wearing. It had been a gift from the Reverend Mother, but certainly not what one would a nun expect to give a former postulant. Maria still wondered how the Reverend Mother had got this piece of silk and lace, rather tight fighting and with a deeper décolletage as Maria had ever worn before.
The Reverend Mother had sent for Maria in the night before her wedding after she'd done her prayers. Inviting Maria in to her study, she'd made her sit down and given her the nicely wrapped package with the nightshirt. Smiling at Maria, she'd put her hand on her shoulders in a motherly gesture. "My child, it would be your mother's task to have this talk with you, but with you not having a mother anymore …" She'd sighed. "Maria, I told you once that the love between a man and a woman is holy – and with that I meant every aspect of this love. Tomorrow you'll be joined in matrimony with Captain von Trapp. You know, it won't be only a union of your hearts and souls, but in the flesh too. You're supposed to become one. The church says your becoming one is to be done for procreating, but I think there's more about. God gave you the gift of being able to give and to feel pleasure. It's an expression of love, Maria and there's nothing to be ashamed or awkward about. "
Maria couldn't help it. She nevertheless felt rather timid about climbing out of the bed in nothing as a flimsy nightshirt and going to the little bathroom. If only she wouldn't have fallen asleep the night before! Then she would have become Georg's wife in every sense of the word already and then she probably wouldn't feel so nervous around him anymore.
Well, she needed to go now. Her bladder was full and she wanted to brush her teeth. So, after kissing her husband's cheek once more, Maria pushed the blanket away. "I need to go up," she told Georg.
"Shall I order your breakfast then?" Georg pulled his watch out and opened it. "We'll arrive in Paris in two hours."
"Then I need to dress!" Maria was at the door of the bathroom.
"Pity!" Georg commented dryly. "You look very lovely in that."
Maria felt his eyes on her like a touch and it made for a fluttering in her stomach. And why was it suddenly so warm in the compartment?
"Maria? Come here!" Georg was still sitting on the bed, reaching out for her. Maria stepped over and took his hand. He used it for pulling her close, laying his arms around her and putting his head on her breasts.
Leaning down, Maria combed with spread fingers through his hair, once again amazed how silken it felt. His closeness made for a prickling in her breasts and it remembered her on a night two weeks before. Georg had insisted on taking her to the town for dinner and afterwards he'd led her to a bar where they'd danced. On their way back to Aigen Maria had sat next to him, admiring his profile and his beautiful hands holding the wheel of his car.
"I love you, Georg," she'd heard herself saying, stroking his arm.
He'd granted her one of his tender half-smiles and then he'd driven the car into a little alley, switching off the engine and reaching out to her, pulling her into his arms. "I love you too, Maria – very much so!" He'd kissed her, soft and tender as he'd always done in the last weeks. But suddenly his gentleness hadn't been enough for Maria anymore. Dancing with him, feeling the warmth of his muscles under her hands, had made for an awareness of her body and a need she'd never sensed before. Only being in public had held her away from pressing closer to him and of kissing him deeply. However, now they weren't in public any longer. The little alley lay in the dark and she was for once alone with the man she longed for. So she'd shifted closer to him, melting herself against his firm chest, deepening the kiss while her fingers discovered the soft skin at the back of his neck. And then he'd turned so that she'd lain back in her seat with him covering her upper body, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, his hands stroking her sides. Maria had felt like losing herself entirely in his embrace and she'd wished more without knowing exactly what "more" meant. This lips, hot and dry, going down to her breasts, a hand had covered one, applying gentle pressure and his mouth had been back on hers, kissing and suckling her tongue.
Maria hadn't been able to think anymore. She'd only felt the urge to come even closer to him, to have him never stop the sweet torment of his kiss and to never lose the sweet weight of his hand on her breast. And more, even more – there was an emptiness within her, something which cried to be completed by him.
Almost abruptly he'd broken the kiss, leaning back in his seat and breathing deeply. Taking Maria's hand then and kissing it he'd said: "Forgive me, Maria. I shouldn't have assaulted you like that."
"I'm to become your wife soon, Georg," she'd simply answered.
"Soon!" he'd given back and with a little smile he'd started the engine again.
Now his head was once again lying at her breasts – and she was his wife now, wasn't she? So why not sitting down in his lap and kissing him until … no, it wouldn't do. Not with the train arriving in Paris in only two hours. Maria didn't know how long it would need to make finally love with her new husband, but she was pretty sure that neither he nor she would like to jump into their clothes afterwards and out of the train.
Bending down and kissing his head she sighed. "Georg, I really need to go into the bathroom."
"Yes." He let her go and rose up. "I'm going to order your breakfast."
They'd strolled through the city almost all afternoon, enjoying a light dinner in a little restaurant at the end of the day and then, hand in hand, they'd walked back to their hotel. Although Maria had reminded herself all the time on what the Reverend Mother had told her, she couldn't help feeling rather nervously. Of course, she'd grown up on a farm, so she know how procreating worked. And even more: She knew how to use a library and she'd gotten herself a book about humane anatomy and the function of it. She'd learned all what was to learn – even that losing her virginity sometimes was painful for a woman. Yet as far as this was concerned, she didn't worry too much. She trusted Georg – he'd once before managed with a young wife and the first Frau von Trapp obviously hadn't become shocked too much. She'd born Georg seven children – what better proof for a healthy love life could there be? No, Georg certainly would know what to do and how to avoid making it too hurtful an experience for Maria.
However, what about him and his needs? What did he expect, what would make him happy? Maria loved him and wanted nothing more as his entire, complete serendipity. Only she didn't have the slightest idea what she would have to do for fulfilling all his needs and wishes.
Now they arrived in their luxurious suite in the hotel and Georg went over to the French window looking out over the city. "How do you like Paris, darling?" he asked.
Maria slipped out of her jacket, hung it over a chair, stepped over to him, laid her arms around his middle and put her head on his shoulder. "It's a beautiful city – and all the elegant women in the boulevards! It's really amazing …"
"Were there women?" Georg took her face between his hands and lifted it up to him. "I'm afraid the elegance of the Parisian women is entirely lost on me. The only woman I'm interested in is a beautiful lady from Salzburg who luckily happens to be my wife." His mouth glided over her temple down on her cheeks to her lips.
Maria closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth, enjoying his kiss. As always in his arms she felt content and even the thought on what was to come didn't rouble her anymore. It would be fine, wouldn't it? She was with Georg and they loved each other. Everything would work out nicely.
Now he was moving to the sofa, pulling her down in his lap. "What are we going to do now, Frau von Trapp?" he asked her, nibbling at her ear.
Once again Maria ruffled through his hair. "What do you think about going to bed, captain?" she gave back.
"Are you tired, Maria?"
"No, but …" Maria hide her face on his neck. "Georg, would you do me a favour?"
"Whatever makes you happy, my heart." He smiled at her, his blue eyes filled with gentleness.
"Would you go into the bathroom first?" Maria bit on her bottom lip, feeling nervous again. And why were they always talking about bathrooms?
For a moment he looked a bit confused, but then he understood and smiled. "Of course." He used the back of his hand for stroking her cheek. "Only I'll need some time – I have to shave again." He lifted her, putting her on her feet. "Just don't run away while I'm in the bathroom, darling."
Maria hugged him once more. "I absolutely don't intend to run away, Georg. Just on the contrary. I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the rest of your life."
"That's just what I hope for!" He kissed her cheek and disappeared into the bedroom.
Maria heard him opening the closet and rummaging around, and then he let his shoes drop and went into the bathroom, all the time quietly whistling.
Maria smiled by listening. The sounds of him in the bathroom, only a few steps away from her suddenly made her feel truly and really married. From now on she would share his life and despite of him being a very private man, he would give her opportunities to come close to him and to life with him through parts of his life no one, not even his children, got to see. And perhaps, one day, she wouldn't only be mother to the seven children they already had, but getting one of her own, a living, breathing proof of the unique connection she shared with Georg.
Thinking of it made her remember a little conversation a few weeks before and she smiled. She'd asked him if he'd like to have more children and he'd beamed at her, looking very young and happy in this moment: "But of course I want to have more children! Five in the least – I've always wanted to make the dozen full."
It had been one of the moments when Maria had come rather close to asking him for whatever reasons he'd proposed to Baroness Schraeder. Maria couldn't for her life imagine the Baroness with a baby. It was all too obvious that she didn't feel comfortable around children and that she certainly wouldn't want to wish to have more as the seven she already had to deal with.
The thought of the baroness still bothered Maria sometimes. She wasn't jealous on Elsa Schraeder, knowing that Georg was fond of her, but only as a friend. But there was nevertheless something about his relationship with the baroness what made Maria worrying. She'd got enough opportunities to watch him with the elegant socialite and she'd seen that he'd enjoyed her sophisticated charm, her wit, her self-confidence, her beauty and the aplomb with which she held court. The baroness suited his house and life-style, she was all what people expected the wealthy Frau von Trapp, wife of the famous naval hero and noble man to be while Maria – what was she? As she'd come into the villa she'd felt rather intimated by its glory and like a country bumpkin being in the city for the first time. What did she know about the life of the rich and posh people, the life Georg was used to? What did she know about couturiers, fashions, salons and the cuisine he liked? For her a schnitzel with noodles had always been the best she could think of – and with Georg she had learned that the combination of schnitzel with noodles was "barbarian" and that fine food meant things like lobsters and other things Maria didn't even know the names of, not to mention she didn't have a glue how to eat them properly. And back to the question of fashion – her first experience with it Maria had only found embarrassing.
She remembered only too well how Georg had told her to get herself a few new dresses and: "Especially you'll need some evening gowns. I'd like to show of my beautiful bride soon."
Maria had known that something made by herself wouldn't do. The simple dresses she'd tailored for herself had been right for the governess, but they wouldn't suit the future Frau von Trapp. Yet the thought of the posh shops in Salzburg had intimated her. Until now she'd only ever passed them, even not daring to look in their windows for too long, knowing that she would never been able to afford one of the pieces displayed there.
And there had been another problem: Money. Of course, a few days before Frau Schmidt had given her an envelope with some money in it – in fact much more as Maria ever had had before. But would it be enough for the kind of dresses Georg wanted to see her in?
Maria had doubted it, but nevertheless gone into a shop in Salzburg. However, it had been a disaster! She'd hardly entered as the lady there had approached her, looking at her with hardly hidden disgust and saying: "Oh, I don't think you'll find something suitable here."
Maria had bravely insisted on looking around and indeed seen an evening gown she would have liked to wear. Yet there hadn't been a price tag on it and so she'd asked – obviously not the proper thing to do in such a shop because the lady had looked at her as if Maria would have insulted her personally and answered coldly. The sum had made Maria almost faint – it was more than double as much as she was having.
Rather forlornly strolling through the streets afterwards, Maria hadn't known what to do. Buying some fabric, trying to make new dresses? Perhaps if she could get some new pattern for sewing – but when to find the time to do it? During the days she was busy with the children – and by now Georg was almost always with them. And during the evenings – she liked to spend time with Georg, walking with him around the lake or simply sitting with him on the terrace, talking. She didn't have time to tailor herself new dresses.
Her saviour had been Max Detweiler, Georg's best friend. As she'd just stood in front of another shop, looking thoughtfully at the display, he'd come around a corner, smiling at her. "How's your shopping going?"
"Oh, Mr Detweiler," Maria had sighed.
"Problems, my dear?" He'd taken her hand, pulled it through the crook of his arm and patting it, he'd said: "Just tell Uncle Max! He'll help you out."
"I was in a shop," Maria had studied the tips of her shoes. "The dresses were beautiful, but so expansive! I don't have enough money …"
A moment he'd looked at her with one eyebrow raised in puzzlement, then he'd started to walk, pulling her with him. "As I've said: Uncle Max will help you out. We'll go to see Madame Eloise. She's an old friend of mine and one of the best couturiers in Salzburg."
He'd taken her to another shop, even more posh as the first one. There he'd invited her to the shop keeper, an elderly, very sophisticated lady to whom he'd cheerfully announced: "I'm giving you the chance of a lifetime: You're the first to dress the beautiful future Frau von Trapp. She needs everything – an evening robe, some dresses, shoes and whatever belongs to it …"
Three hours later Maria, overwhelmed by trying on a dozen of dresses and "whatever belongs to it" had walked out of the shop in a gorgeous blue suit with matching silken shirt, relieved in knowing that a glorious evening gown and some other dresses would be delivered to the villa in the afternoon. The only thing making her uncomfortable was still the question of money – Max had made the payment in simply telling the shop keeper: "The bill goes to Captain von Trapp, you know the address." Yet spending so much money on clothes – Maria felt almost ashamed about. She was sure, she'd never come in use with that.
And what about her abilities to run the house? Maria had worried about, but Georg had never seemed to mind. Whenever she'd talked about her insecurity, he'd simply kissed her and said: "You'll adapt quicker as you think!"
"Maria?" He was done in the bathroom and coming back in the living area.
His sight made Maria almost laugh, but what had she expected? Of course Captain Georg von Trapp looked the perfect gentleman even when he was about to go in bed. From the slightly wet, but nevertheless perfect combed hair over the clean shaved face down to the burgundy silken dressing gown over pyjamas in dark red to the leather slippers he looked like a picture out of a posh magazine – and so breathtakingly handsome Maria felt once more overwhelmed by love and pride.
Smiling at him she whispered: "I love you, Georg."
He opened his arms, pulled her close and held her head against his shoulder. With his mouth in her hair he gave back: "Lucky me!" For a moment they stood in silence, then he took her face between his hands and lifted it up to look in her eyes. "Maria," he started softly, kissing her forehead, "there's something I need to tell you."
"Yes, my love?"
He cleared his throat and granted her one of his enchanting half-smiles. "I'd very much like to make love to you this night," he said. "However, I want you to feel ready for it – and if you aren't yet, we'll wait. There's no need to rush something."
"But I want to be close to you," Maria answered, raising her hand and laying it against his cheek. "I'm ready and," she snuggled against him, "I trust you, Georg."
He kissed her forehead again and then stepped back, talking her hand. "I thank you, Maria. Only," he was inhaling deeply and started anew. "Maria, it's said that the first time isn't too pleasant for a woman. And I really hate the idea to cause you any pain."
The worry in his eyes touched her deeply and she went closer to him, embracing him. "I'm not afraid, my love", she whispered. "I mean, millions of women made it through. I'll manage, too."
Georg sighed. "Dearest, I definitely hope it will be more as only making it through. You know, making love should be all about pleasure and tenderness and passion and enjoying each other. I will try to make you feel some pleasure, my darling."
"I'm sure you will." Maria let her hands glide over his back, marvelling in the strength of his body underneath the fabric of the dressing gown. Raising her head, her lips searched his mouth for another long and deep kiss.
Lying in her husband's arm, her palm just over where his heart was beating, her head on his naked shoulder, Maria sighed contently and closed her eyes, but only to remember his. The smile in them as she'd come out of the bathroom at last – he'd lain in bed then, his hands folded behind his head and the blanket up to his chest. There had been something like awkwardness in his look and as always, when Georg showed his vulnerability, Maria had felt deeply touched and filled with tenderness for him.
The little insecurity he'd showed had given her the courage to step to the bed, to slip out of her night shirt and to stand there, at last naked in front of her husband. For a moment she'd needed to fight against the urge to cover herself at least with her hands – she'd never before shown someone her naked body. Yet hadn't Georg often enough told her he thought her beautiful? Slowly she'd looked at him and in the moment their eyes had met Maria had forgotten all about her anxiety. His deep blue eyes had radiated so much love and adoration and his voice, slightly hoarse and sounding as he'd just discovered a miracle, had soothed her. "You're so lovely, Maria! Come to me – please!"
Slipping in bed at his side, stretching out in his arm, kissing him – Maria had been nervous and even a bit afraid while she'd been in the bathroom, but now everything was as it should be. Never in her life had something felt so right as to kiss Georg, to let her hands roam over his back and to hold him close to her. There was only one thing which wasn't perfect and so Maria, kissing his jaw, whispered: "Georg, could you perhaps …" She didn't know how to express her wish in words, so she gently tugged at his collar. "I'd like to feel your skin."
On quick move and he was out of the silken shirt, throwing it in front of the bed. Turning back to Maria, he crooked his head. "Not as much skin as hair all over," he said, once again sounding almost awkward.
Maria laid her hand on his shoulder. The form of it was already familiar, but the smoothness and warmth of his skin was as new as the sight of his muscular chest, covered with a coat of fine, dark hair. A line of it led down to his flat belly and for a moment Maria fought against the temptation to push the blanket away which covered his hips and legs. Although she'd never seen a naked man before, she was sure that this new husband of her was an especially handsome one and bending down, she placed a kiss on his shoulder, nibbling tenderly at it.
"Huh!" He twisted, turned and grinned at her. "Who's doing the seduction tonight?"
"Both of us?" Maria gave back.
"No." He shook his head and gently laid her back in the pillows. "Tonight it's all about you, my wife."
And then he kissed her again and his hands and lips were on her skin, touching and stroking, making her body becoming alive in a way she wouldn't have thought possible. And there was something deep within her, a need for completion, an urge which almost burned her up and made her moan and struggle for even more closeness and even him touching her where no one had ever touched her before, even her body exploding in a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure wasn't enough to satisfy what he'd awakened. She wanted to melt in his arms, to have him becoming a part of her, to connect to him as much as possible. And yes, there had been a little pain as he'd finally entered her body, but it had only made for the experience of being joined to him becoming even more intense and real and wonderful.
Once more it had been Georg's eyes which had held her captured. Their blue had become so dark they looked like the night sky and they'd seemed to be connected to hers, looking deep into her heart.
"Maria, oh heavens, Maria!" Suddenly every muscle in his body had tensed and she'd felt how his skin had become covered in sweat. His face had almost like as he'd be in pain and then he'd sunken down on her, limb and breathing hard. Maria had firmly held him to her, wishing this moment wouldn't end. Never before he'd shown her his vulnerability so openly. She'd known from the first moment she'd fallen in love with him that he, despite of his strength and outstanding courage, was a sensitive man who desperately needed to be loved, but she wouldn't have believed that he would ever allow her to hold him like that. All feelings of inferiority she'd suffered through were suddenly gone, displaced by the knowledge that she was his equal, that the strength of her love matched his braveness and self-discipline. She'd needed him to grow into her womanhood and to accept herself fully as a woman, but he'd also needed her to become whole again.
Sighing once more, she stretched and shove his leg over his, snuggling closer into his embrace.
"How do you feel, Maria?" His deep, quiet voice was filled with gentleness.
"I've never been better." Maria raised her head and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I wonder," she started thoughtfully.
"Hmm?" Georg's hand was in her hair, idly playing with it.
"I wonder," Maria repeated, "if the Reverend Mother knows …"
"What, my darling?"
"How lovely it feels to make love," Maria answered. "She told me I mustn't feel awkward or ashamed of my pleasure on you …"
"Well," Georg grinned, "that means she knows at least theoretically."
"Nuns are supposed to be virgins," Maria replied, still deep in thought. "It's probably better this way."
"Why do you think so?" Georg's let one finger wander down her spine.
"Because I'd find it hard to live without it now," Maria answered.
"How nice to hear." Georg pulled her close, falling back in the pillows again and taking her with him to lie on his chest. Kissing her tenderly, he sighed. "I need to go up – I want something to drink. What about you, my heart?"
"Actually, I'm a bit hungry. Do you think I could have an apple? There's a basket with fruits in the living room, isn't it?" Georg got up and Maria watched how he slipped into his dressing gown again, almost regretting it. She liked to have him naked – it was so intimate and made for a wonderful awareness of really and truly being married to him. "Georg?"
"Hmm?" He was already back from the living room, a bottle with champagne, two glasses and an apple in his hands.
"How often do married people do it?" she asked.
Georg sat down on the bedside, putting the glasses on the nightstand and rolling the apple over to her. Opening the bottle he grinned at her, suddenly looking like one of his sons. "What do you mean? Eating apples or drinking champagne in bed?" he asked with faked innocence.
Biting into her apple, Maria answered. "You know exactly what I meant!"
"Making love?" The bottle was open and he poured the sparkling champagne into the glasses. "It depends, I think. Take my dear friend Zeller for example: With him always working at the fame of his beloved Führer and with his wife looking like a drill sergeant I don't think they do it more often as once a year and then only for giving the Reich a new soldier."
"Georg!" Maria leant over and playfully slapped his back. "I certainly didn't want to know how the Zellers …"
"I don't either. Even the thought of him procreating makes me shudder," Georg answered, offering her a glass with champagne. "But if you'd like to know how often I intend to make love to you – what about whenever we'll get the chance?" He put his glass on the nightstand, slipped out of his dressing gown and slipped back in the bed, offering her his arm. "Only I'm afraid at home we won't get as much opportunities as I'd like to."
"Why ever not?" Maria swallowed the last piece of her apple and washed it down with the champagne. "What could keep us away from each other?"
"Oh, we've got seven reasons, named Liesl, Friedrich, Louisa, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta and Gretl," he answered. "Just think about how often they disturb you during the nights …"
"Oh, actually it's become much better in the last weeks," Maria replied. "In the first time I was in the house it was often that one of the children came to me during the night – I think, they were probably sometimes a bit overexcited and therefore they couldn't sleep. Besides they were worrying about you, Georg. But since you're back it's become better, really – in the last three or four weeks they actually almost always slept through."
"Not exactly, darling," Georg laughed. "You slept through. The children didn't. Just let me count: Two weeks ago on Monday Liesl couldn't sleep because of a headache – I think its name actually was Rolf and she's better off without him. However, around two o'clock she came to me asking for an aspirin. Afterwards we were having a little father-daughter talk about the stupidity of young men."
"Oh, I'm glad she talked to you!" Maria cried. "I think she really needed it."
"Hmm – at two in the morning." Georg sighed and sipped at his champagne. "You will admit: Her timing could have been better, especially when you consider I'd promised Louisa a morning ride – and with Louisa 'morning' means she comes around six o'clock, wondering why I'm not dressed and up already. I made her groom both our horses – it was my only chance to get at least a cup of coffee and a piece of bread before she became too impatient with me."
"And then she shooed you around in the woods for two hours!" Maria giggled.
"Well, I got my revenge – I made her do dressage afterwards!" he grinned. "I'm sure at the end of her lesson her butt ached more than mine!"
"Nice father you are!" Maria laughed at him.
"Well, I was nice enough to help poor Kurt out two nights later as he came to me around midnight because he was so terribly hungry he couldn't sleep," Georg defended himself.
"He's growing very fast in the moment, therefore he needs lots of food," Maria said. "And if memory doesn't fail me, we were having spinach for dinner. He really doesn't like it much."
"At least he likes salami sandwiches," Georg said dryly. "Only I was the one who had to sleep on the crumbles later."
"You let him have a salami sandwich in your bed?"
"Well," now Georg was looking almost sheepishly, "I don't like spinach either. So he caught me with a salami sandwich – what should I've done? I had to get one for him too, hadn't I?"
"I hope you made him at least brush his teeth afterwards again." Maria leant back in his arm.
"I'm afraid I forgot – I was rather tired."
"So much about discipline in the von Trapp household!" Maria laughed.
"It's all your fault, Maria! You wanted me to become close to my children."
"How could I know you'd change from a monster with a whistle into a softie who spoils them rotten?" Maria smiled. "Besides I got my punishment. Last week on Thursday – imagine the shock I got as I came into the nursery in the morning and the little ones weren't in their beds! Liesl and I'd already searched half of the hourse as Brigitta got the idea that we should have a look in your bedroom. It was a rather idyllic picture, you peacefully sleeping with your youngest daughters all over you."
"Peacefully?" He raised an eyebrow. "You don't know how good the sweeties are in kicking their poor father's guts! Shortly before you came to wake us Gretl had just pushed her sweet, edgy little knees into a most touchy part of my anatomy. I felt as if I were to become one of the sopranos in the family choir!"
"My poor darling! You're really a martyr!" Maria pitied him. "But I think you've got some undisturbed sleep the rest of the week, didn't you?"
"Well, considered how Brigitta had jumped into my back at Friday – I spent the next night on a hot bottle, feeling like an old man", he complained.
"It didn't keep you from showing of your abilities on horseback the next morning again. Quite an impressive performance you did with the black stallion, I must admit."
"Only I should have changed into riding gear before," Georg said. "Well, at least it got Max a chance to amuse himself – you should have heard the jokes he made while putting salve on my sore butt!"
Maria turned on her side and started to play with the hair on his chest. "It really was time you got to do something relaxing like marrying, wasn't it?"
"Considered what you're just doing I'm not so sure about relaxing, my heart." There was the little hoarseness in his voice again and the way he bent down and kissed her head wasn't as playful as a minute before.
For a moment Maria wondered what had caused this change in him, but then she felt it: Her fingers had found his flat, pink nipple and were stroking it softly. It became firm now and Georg shifted, his hands gliding down her sides again.
Maria remembered how it had felt as he'd kissed her breasts. Was it possible that his chest was just as sensitive to touches as hers? Bending down she tenderly stroked the hair away which covered her target and kissed it then.
"Uh, Maria …" He seemed to shudder, but kept quiet, only the muscles underneath her lips tensed.
He'd given her so much pleasure before, mapping her body with kisses and touches. Now she wanted to discover his – and the thought that she was able to give back something from the joy he'd made her feel went to her head like champagne, making her almost dizzy with happiness and pride.
He pulled her up for another deep kiss, but this time it was Maria who broke it, whispering into his mouth: "I want to touch you. May I?"
"Whatever you want, Maria," he answered, searching for her mouth again.
However, Maria was on a mission. She longed to discover all of her new husband and there was a part of him she hadn't even seen yet. She knew how it felt against her thigh and she remembered how it had filled her and made her complete, but now she wanted to see and to touch it.
Shyly she tugged at the blanket covering his body. "May I?" she asked once again.
"Maria," he took her hand and kissed it. "You may do whatever you want, but you mustn't do something."
"Georg," she let her hand slip under the blanket, stroking his hip, "you're my husband, aren't you? I want to be close to you and I want to get to know your body – all of it."
Georg's diary
Paris, Hotel St. George, March 8, 1938
The ostrich buries his head in the sand – and sometimes at the breast of his wife. I don't need to read the papers for knowing what's happing in my homeland just now. Phone calls don't go through anymore, letters aren't arriving here – it tells me enough. The Anschluss is happening soon – or did it already happen? Are Hitler's men already marching through the streets of Salzburg, trampling down everything I hold dear and once fought for?
Austria is dying. The last weeks we were sitting at its bedside, pretending it will become better soon. Only there isn't any cure. The Austria I've known and loved isn't to exist any longer. The Zellers are taking over, destroying what's been left from our once proud and noble country. Even Salzburg, Mozart's Salzburg, won't be the city of music and smiles anymore, but will become filled with the sound of their nailed boats and the raging of Hitler, the madman who will lead Europe into another war.
I've gone through this kind of insanity once before. I saw men dying for an unworthy cause, I watched boys, just out of school, suffering in pretending to be heroes, I fought for what I believed in only for becoming betrayed. I won't stand by, doing nothing while my sons become sacrificed for a tyrant's evil errand, I won't allow the Nazis to make the boys I've raised to killers. And I will not fight for Hitler either. The Nazis won't get a chance to use me. I will not cooperate with them, even not for the sake of my family. How could it be any "sake" if I'd become one of them, if I'd go against everything I believe of?
Life sometimes is quite ironic, isn't it? I've found a woman to love again, I've got everything to become a happy man again and I wish nothing more as to live a quiet, peaceful live with my Maria and the children. Only there isn't any peace in our homeland anymore.
Were will we find peace? I don't see a future for us in Austria. I even don't see one in Europe anymore.
Maria and I will leave Paris tomorrow. Our honeymoon is over. We'll go back to a home which isn't our home anymore. We'll go home for preparing our departure and for going out into the world, searching for a place to call home again.
It won't be possible to sell the house – it would be too obvious. So I can only hope this spook will be over one day and that we can come back then. Until then I'll need to find somewhere to stay – as far away from Europe and the war which will come.
Heavens, in what did I lead Maria in? Without me interfering in her life she would have become a nun, living safely and peacefully at Nonnberg Abbey. But what would I do without her now? She's my pillar of strength, my comrade, my comfort, my reason to believe in a good God even when the world is falling apart around us. With her at my side I'll be able to get our family through that and together we'll manage to find a new home.
To be continued