I had fun writing the Captain - he's hard to nail sometimes but ultimately it was a refreshing change. And I don't like the Baroness at all, but of course because it's from his POV I had to write generously about her.
Finally
Captain von Trapp marched outside, to where a chorus of shouts had arisen; he had been on his way to tell the children that their dinner was ready, and halfway there peals of laughter and yelling had erupted from the courtyard. He stepped out onto the terrace, unprepared for the scene before him. The smiles and shouts of his children below radiated a joy he had not seen in them for days, and in the midst of all the chaos and excitement...stood Maria. Georg stood transfixed to the spot, his heart momentarily skipping a beat in shock. There she stood, with the children around her like rings orbiting its planet. He never thought he would see her again, not from how final she sounded in her letter. He finally drew in breath whilst relief flooded through him, and a weight he had not known he was carrying unexpectedly lifted. His eyes couldn't tear themselves away from her, even if he tried. She looked beautiful. The Captain admonished himself for the reckless thought but still he couldn't help himself admiring the young lady standing before him. Her blonde hair was a neat, golden halo around her head, a green dress that contrasted so nicely with her glowing skin sat comfortably on her body. He didn't think he had ever seen her like this, with an outfit like that, the tiniest blush of colour in her cheeks, and the look in her eyes, as if she were praying in her head. She looked as if she had made a mistake in returning from the way she stared at him, but the Captain couldn't have been more thankful that she had. He wondered what had caused the displeased twinkle in her eyes.
'Good evening, Captain.' She said, diffusing the silence between them. Her voice called out to him and he realised how much he'd missed hearing it, talking and laughing and singing. Ever since she had left there had been no pleasant melodies played in the evening, no lively ditty's being strummed from the guitar in the mornings. Now, Maria seemed rather misplaced in nature, as if her mind where on other things.
He inclined his head, never looking away.
'Good evening.'
The smooth, warm tone of his voice and the smile he felt pulling at his lips surprised him. He hadn't intended to display the consolation he felt inside to them at all.
Maria and Georg searched each other with their eyes, a tense pause settling in between them, so thick and powerful that even the children were silent. He felt mildly uneasy by the way she stood, as if not knowing whether to approach or stay put. Georg withdrew from his brief reverie to remember the reason he had come outside in the first place.
'Everyone inside for dinner!' He announced, and immediately the children sprung up the steps like wild animals pouncing for their prey. Now, however, it was just him and Maria alone. He almost didn't trust himself with her. His eyes softened when he thought about the night of the party, his eyes searching and searching for the familiar face, but never reaching it. The crease in his forehead when he had ultimately found her letter, and the clenching of his jaw when he realised she had left. He stared at her now, wondering what had made her do such a thing.
'You left without saying goodbye,' he accused, 'even to the children.' His voice was softer than he cared to admit, even in the way he felt when he saw her eyes grow heavy with guilt.
'It was wrong of me. Forgive me.'
'Why did you?' He asked.
'Please don't ask me. Anyway, the reason no longer exists.' Maria replied hastily, which he felt was very unlike her character. He wondered what the reason had been, and even more why it no longer existed. What was she hiding? He couldn't begin to fathom the light sadness in her eyes at her answer. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but as soon as he had exhaled a confident breath another voice rang out from behind him.
'Fraulein Maria! You've returned.'
Georg's face might not have shown it, but inside his stomach dropped with a disappointment, and a slight anger at himself. He had let himself become so enchanted by Maria and her sudden arrival, so drawn to the emotions flickering in her eyes that he had completely forgotten about his fiancée. His gut stirred with guilt. Why must he torture himself this way?
'Isn't it wonderful, Georg?'
He felt her presence behind her but still he could not tear away from Maria. It was as if he had two strings attached to him, pulling him in both directions with a startling vigour that made it feel like he might split apart. He had never felt so divided before.
'I wish you every happiness, Baroness. You too, Captain. The children say you are to be married.'
Whilst he registered what she was saying, he gave only the slightest recognition to his engagement, completely lost in the face of the woman.
'Thank you, my dear.' Elsa replied for him. He had felt her looking up at him as she had said it but he hadn't had the power to look away. Her tone was sweet and dripping like honey, as if she were monumentally pleased with herself. Even Georg had to admit then that it was enough to let go of her arm. His eyes had followed Maria as she walked up to the terrace, surpassing him completely as she began to make her way indoors. Georg didn't know why he felt so hurt by it.
'You are...back to stay?' He asked, his strenuous, pleading voice making him feel needy, as if he were a child reassuring himself in what he hoped could only be true.
At the murmur of his voice she turned back round to him, and he saw her face clearly now, streaked with an expression of regret. He desperately wished he could see her smile again, despite how silly that sounded.
'Only until arrangements can be made for another governess.'
The words pulled at his heart, and as she turned away his eyes dropped slowly to the floor. He tried not to look too rejected but then again, he hadn't expected those words to come out of her mouth. The hand that pulled him back suddenly startled him into reality, and he remembered that Elsa was there beside him. She gave him a smile, and quickly composing himself, he drew her arm onto his, though his mind stayed distracted. Both he and Maria knew that finding another governess wasn't going to happen since he was engaged to Elsa, which meant of course that he would never see her again after he was married. As they walked inside together, he let go of his fiancée, gave her a convincing parting smile and fled to the confines of his office; the only place he could go to be alone with his thoughts, the only place he felt reinstated and reassured by the titles of which he had been decorated, reminding him of his bravery and courage. Traits that at that moment, seemed to be missing from him. He tried to think about not seeing Maria again, and if he could ever bring himself to do it.
Georg had never felt so torn before, so conflicted between two emotions. His morality and duty told him one thing, his heart, another. Maybe he was just longing for the kindness Maria so embodied, rather than anything else. Maybe it was just getting used to being engaged to Elsa, in which he knew the marriage borne would be a contented and peaceful one. But did he really want that? He hardly ever had to ask himself his own question, since he was so sure all of the time of what he knew and what he wanted. But for the first time in a very long time, he didn't know what he wanted. He couldn't find anything rational in him to answer the question other than a deep, dark and feral part of him that truly knew his deepest desire. He rarely ever confronted that part of him, but he knew it was there, making his heart repeatedly beat beneath his chest to a rhythm only he could discern were syllables of a name. Maria. Maria. Maria.
He sharply turned, slamming his hands on his mahogany desk, taking off his jacket to throw it on his chair. He didn't want to feel like this, so primitive and weak and prey to his own feelings. Elsa was a woman who had given back everything he thought was forever taken from him after his dear wife passed, but Maria had given him perhaps the gentility and kindness and love (even if she didn't know it) that he needed.
His conflicting emotions caused riots in his head, making his jaw clench together in perhaps what could be seen as a menacing scowl.
Georg reflected on the party, how Maria had felt in his arms, light and warm, weightless. Her face looking up at him as they twirled around in a circle, in a pattern of steps she had stated she only half remembered. Her eyes had seemed as if they were burning into his, painfully imprinting the image of her face in his head. Her rosy cheeks flushed with the heat of their bodies being so teasingly and terribly close to each other. He should have admonished himself more profoundly for taking the advantage of dancing with her. He had known full well what kind of dance the Laendler was, and yet he had hardly thought twice before asking her to dance it with him. Truthfully, that was all his fault. In the dimly lit borders of the courtyard, she had seemed so innocent and irresistible.
The other part of his brain fought back, thinking about the times where he danced with Elsa to the melodies of the waltz, and how truly lovely she looked in that dress. A classism in her and in her face had always been admired by him and was partly the reason he liked her so. A respectability and upper class aura of sophistication was the utter attraction to him, someone of such high estate and pleasant company. But could he really say that he felt exactly the same with Elsa as he had with Maria? He remembered the waltz being more distant than the Laendler, only hands and waists guiding each other through the crowd, rather than the close confinements of being locked in place by another's body and the tension in the dance that made the Laendler so unique.
Georg also remembered the remarks Elsa had made about it being 'warm' outside. He could barely recall it since the wine and the dancing seemed to go straight to his head, but he had known she was making suggestive implications about his dancing with Maria. He felt guilty. That was something he knew and felt to be true. Guilty in letting Elsa see the way him and Maria danced together, which on reflection was probably most embarrassing for her, as the party was held in her honour. He felt so confused with his feelings, Reason telling him one thing, Desire telling him another.
The struggle he was having made it impossible to think clearly, think about what he was going to do now. But all his mind would let him think of was the way he and Maria looked at each other sometimes, the long intense gazes that withheld his breath and made his lungs contract. That particular evening, when the night was so peaceful, the children contented and himself particularly happy, he had stared at her for so long his eyes burned. That was while he sang Edelweiss, in which he couldn't refuse performing because the look on her face was too enticing and hopeful to resist.
He had seen her head rest back against the wall, watching him play and gazing back at him in turn; the blue, flowing dress she wore making her look heavenly and which he shamefully admitted had set his heart racing.
Elsa must have noticed, mustn't she? All those times he looked at Maria and not her, the way he spoke to her as if she were his equal. Surely, a woman would reject the man that flirted with other women?
He blanched at the thought of which he had tried so hard these past weeks to ignore. He had flirted. He didn't know how and and he didn't know when or where or even why, but he knew that there had been something tangible between the two of them that had to be labelled somehow.
Why was it so difficult, why did it have to be like this? Why did he have to feel that way - for someone he shouldn't have. Maria was a postulant, anyway. She couldn't accept his love even if she wanted to. He didn't know much about the sisterhood and if you could ever renounce them, but Georg was fairly sure that Maria's faith resonated deep within her, and that was something he couldn't take away.
His hands ran over his face, his body momentarily stooped low over his desk as if he were actually praying.
A knock at the door ferociously startled him, and immediately he whipped up his jacket and put it back on again. Opening the door, he saw Frau Shmidt there, telling him that his dinner was ready. With a small exhale of breath he marched off to the dining room where the children were still sitting, eating up the remains of their dinners and starting on desserts. He placed himself in his usual chair and looked around at the table. Elsa sat next to him, Maria at the other end. Only Liesl and Louisa were missing from the table, and God knows where they were.
He glanced down the table at Maria, who was skilfully avoiding his eyes at every opportunity and wayward glimpse, eating in silence. Usually there was something she said at the dinner table about a song the children had learned or a game they had played. Elsa was talking to him about all kinds of wedding-related things that he pretended to listen to. In reality it was all he could do just to avert his eyes from Maria. She had changed before dinner, and she was in that flattering blue dress again. It almost felt as if she had done it on purpose to agonise him further. Once Elsa stopped talking and most of the children had been excused from the table, a most uncomfortable silence hung in the air between everyone. Only the comfort of his wineglass settled him enough to stay. Maria herself looked as if she wished she weren't there, a hand placed on her cheek and her eyes travelling the lengths of the room as if she were forever contemplating the colour of the walls. Georg didn't dare ask her if she was alright, or what was troubling her. Once she had excused herself and slipped quietly away from the room, he wondered if she was even happy to be back; he knew she was happy to see the children, but she seemed far too distant and quiet to be content enough to be in the villa again. Georg endured several minutes of constant talking from Elsa and then he too exited the room. He wondered if she had missed him, while she was at the Abbey. A peculiar thought but one he wished to find out. Maybe, just maybe he would set aside his overbearing pride and ask her. He wondered about his house until gratefully making an escape to the balcony, the cold air pleasing enough on his face, the wind ruffling a few trees here and there. He leant on the banister, staring at the lake that was in full, panoramic view from the balcony. The night seemed peaceful enough to him, and yet a great storm that was anything but peaceful roiled about in his chest. Suddenly, a figure appeared from the shadows, and he could see the outline of the elegant blue dress making its way toward the river. Maria stared out at the water, the glittering surface winking at her. Georg watched as she wondered toward the trees, and a small ache in his heart confirmed everything he was trying so hard to ignore; it could no longer be denied, he was completely and irrevocably in love with her.
At the precise moment he felt it in his chest, a figure appeared beside him, calling out. Elsa. He smiled guiltily and straightened his back, wondering if it would be difficult to tell her. Wondering if she would take it easily, or put up a fight. He sincerely hoped it would be the former. He didn't look at her, even when she prompted him for replies. He was still captivated by Maria's shadow upon the grass below.
'...Oh Georg, how do you feel about yachts? A long, sleek one for the Mediterranean, or a tiny one for your bathtub, huh?' She extended a hand to his shoulder and he chuckled gratefully. He admired this woman enormously, and her ability to amuse him in any situation.
'Elsa-' he interjected, trying to finally say what he should have said perhaps a very long time ago.
'And where to go for our honeymoon? Now, that's a real problem. I thought a trip around the world would be lovely, and then I said: 'oh Elsa, there must be some place better to go.' But don't worry, darling, I'll-'
'Elsa.' He said more firmly, desperately needing to tell her the truth, and because he couldn't bear to hear more about a honeymoon and a wedding that was never going to happen.
'Yes, Georg?' Her eyes were full of a hope that he wished he didn't have to extinguish, but from the look on her face she knew what he was about to confess to her.
'It's no use,' He said plainly, and his stomach lurched painfully. He shouldn't have to have treated her this way, not when she had given him so much, 'you and I. I'm being dishonest to both of us. And utterly unfair to you.' He hoped he looked as grave as he knew he was inside, 'when two people talk of marriage-'
'No, don't. Don't say another word, please. You see, there are other things I've been thinking about. Fond as I am of you, I really don't think you're the right man for me. You're much too independent. And I need someone who needs me desperately,' she explained, 'or at least needs my money desperately.'
He smiled. He knew that it was the right thing to do, and he was grateful that she understood so easily.
'I've enjoyed every moment we've had together and I do thank you for that. Now, if you forgive me, I'll go inside, pack my little bags and return to Vienna, where I belong.'
They smiled at each other, a forgiving, understanding smile.
'And somewhere out there,' she continued, glancing over the balcony, 'is a young lady, who I think, will never be a nun.' At this she looked straight at him, as if to say 'I knew longer than you yourself did.'
He looked at her in shock, glancing over at the trees, where Maria had traipsed through and could no longer be seen.
'Auf Weidersehen, darling.' She parted, kissing his cheek as she left. He watched her leave, grateful for such a generous woman. She was never spiteful to him, completely faithful and had been his greatest company for longer than he thought she could ever have stuck around with him. Suddenly turning back round to face the scenery before him, he cast all thoughts of Elsa aside and smirked to himself, thinking about Maria and just how crazy she had turned his life; completely upside down. Thinking only with his heart, and making a decision as brash and as daring as they come, he withdrew inside and made his way onto the terrace to tell a woman he was in love with her. If truth be told, he had thought he had seen a flicker of love or adoration cross her eyes before when she looked at him once, twice, but he had always dismissed it or claimed he had imagined it. Now, however, he just hoped that what he had seen wasn't invisible.
Georg marched through the trees, wondering exactly what place she had been drawn to. Sure enough, he spotted a small figure in a blue dress sitting down on the bench, head bent and hands fidgeting.
'Hello,' he called out, 'I thought I might just find you here.' He tried to keep his tone light, friendly and as optimistic as possible, although it was harder for him than he would have thought. He cautiously drew closer, edging his way toward the other side of the bench so as not to completely disturb her.
'Was there something you wanted?' She asked, standing up as if readying herself to carry out the commands of her captain. Georg wondered if she had any idea at all that she was talking to a man who would call himself her lover in a heartbeat.
'No, no, no,' he said quickly, hoping she wouldn't leave him, 'Sit down. Please.'
She still stood, looking at him as if not taking his wish seriously.
'Please.' He reiterated, trying to keep his voice as tender as possible.
He exhaled a grateful sigh as she obliged, and sat back in her place.
'May I?' He asked, now knowing that nerves were kicking in, as he had just asked Maria if he could sit on his own bench.
She didn't reply and it tied his stomach into more knots. He cleared his throat, releasing an awkward laugh that he instantly felt embarrassed by, 'you know, I was thinking and wondering, uh, two things,' he stuttered, 'why did you run away to the Abbey, and...what was it that made you come back?'
He watched her as she replied, noticing that she was looking anywhere but at him.
'Well, I had an obligation to fulfil and I came back to fulfil it.'
The answer wasn't what he had hoped would have come out of her mouth; it was a statement that left him bereft.
'Is that all?' He asked.
She looked up from studying her hands. 'And I missed the children.'
'Yes. Only the children?' He asked, hoping she would maybe say what he wanted her to say.
'No. Yes,' she said, looking a little distressed, 'isn't it right that I missed them?'
At this she stared right at him for the first time since she had arrived back to the villa, and the starkness in her eyes had him feeling overwhelmed.
'Oh, yes. Yes of course,' he exclaimed, 'I was only hoping that perhaps you...' Maybe now he should ask her if she had missed him. He let his sentence trail off, as if hoping she would understand what he was saying and finish it for him, 'perhaps you might...'
'Yes?' She answered, looking at him as if he were partly delusional.
'Well, nothing was the same when you went away...and it'll be all wrong again soon after you leave,' He explained, surprised how much he was pouring his heart out to her,
'And I just thought perhaps you might...change your mind?' He proposed, his eyebrows lifting and his heart hoping she didn't reject him.
Instead, she stood up from the bench and turned away from him. 'Well, I'm sure the Baroness will be able to make things fine for you.' She replied, her surprisingly thick voice giving away the emotion on her face well enough for Georg to know that she was feeling betrayed and disappointed. His features softened, wanting to comfort her as quickly as possible. In his pursuit to find her and tell her about his feelings he had completely forgotten to tell her that his relationship with Elsa was over.
'Maria,' he stood up and strode to her side, determined to make her see, 'there isn't going to be any Baroness.' He let the words sink in for her, and a moment later her voice had resumed to her light, wondrous soprano.
'There isn't?' She replied incredulously.
'No.'
'I don't understand.'
Georg strolled alongside her, nearer toward the gazebo.
'Well, we've called off our engagement, you see, and-'
'Oh, I'm sorry.'
'Yes,' he said, and then realising what she had said, 'you are?' He added, surprised.
She turned back round to him, looking straight into his eyes this time. The weight and pressure of them made him feel incredibly small.
'You did?' She gasped.
'Yes,' he said firmly, passing by her to enter the gazebo, 'well, you can't marry someone,' he emphasised, examining the glass-panelled walls of the dome, 'When you're...' He swallowed and confidently turned his face down to stare at her, 'in love with someone else, can you?'
Her eyes glowed brilliantly under the natural lighting of the moon, and a look of utmost clarity passed her face. She gazed up at him as if she had known it would happen but couldn't believe it had. Slowly, she shook her head, never breaking eye contact. Georg's heart thumped loudly in his chest at how beautiful she looked, her face vulnerable and exposed and inches from his. Finally, he let himself do the one thing he had wanted to do for days, had even dreamed about doing. With every second stretched to last a lifetime, he lifted her chin up and leaned down. Her lips touched his and he kissed her, soft and slowly but with every ounce of love he could feel.
When they parted, Maria smiled up at him and it warmed his whole body, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He embraced her, feeling her body against his and her head near his shoulder.
'The Reverend Mother always says: 'when the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window'.'
He drew her away so he could see her face and chuckled, unable to resist resting a palm against her cheek, hiding the flush that was blooming over them. Her skin was soft and her eyes roamed his face in the most endearing fashion.
'What else does the Reverend Mother say?' He asked, a smile tainting his words because he loved her, loved every single part, and it melted him to hear her speak about her religion because he loved that about her too.
'That you have to look for your life.' She whispered, her eyelashes fluttering against her skin when she blinked.
He thought about how she had fled to the Abbey, and how she then had unexpectedly and suddenly returned. Was it the words of the Reverend Mother that had made her come back to him? If so, he knew that he owed a lot to that woman.
'Is that why you came back?' He asked, his fingers tenderly stroking her cheek.
She nodded.
'And have you found it, Maria?'
'I think I have,' she answered slowly, and then, giving him a look of confirmation, 'I know I have.'
His heart swelled, his features refined themselves to a look of sincerity, and with absolute conviction, he finally said it.
'I love you.'
The look on her face filled him with a hope and love he hadn't thought could still be lurking in his chest. As she embraced him again, he closed his eyes and cradled her neck, thinking about how lucky he was to have her there in his arms. Finally.