Disclaimer: I do not own the Sound of Music, and thinking about how rich I would be if I did own the show has depressed me for the past like, five minutes.

Rating: Making it a PG-13 to be safe, but I do not think that it will go beyond a PG. I mean, how really nasty can you get with the Sound of Music, for goodness' sake? Come on.

Summary: When the Von Trapp family reaches Switzerland, they are assisted by an unexpected source. Also, Maria makes a discovery about herself that is unexpected, and causes new worries. Reviews are greatly appreciated J!!

"Maria."

Maria Von Trapp opened her eyes, awakened both by the swaying wagon that carried them as well as by her husband's voice. She struggled to sit up. Her head had been resting in his lap, and she looked up and met his gaze, her own eyes fatigued and smudged underneath with gray from lack of sleep. "The children-!" she struggled to sit up, but the Captain held her down and put a finger to her lips. "They are asleep," he said, low.

"Ah." Maria sat up and rubbed her eyes with both fists.

The Captain's voice was low and teasing. "You look like Gretl does in the morning," he said affectionately.

Maria chuckled and glanced in the back of the bread wagon, where Liesl, Friedrich, Brigitta, Louisa, Kurt, Marta and Gretl were all nestled, among enormous stacks of flour. Their driver, a grizzled, wizened little old man who looked like his only occupation was to drive a bread wagon was silent upon his post in front of Maria and Georg, except for intermittent explosions of tobacco juice over the side of the wagon.

"The children are all sleeping," the Captain observed quietly.

"Yes," Maria said. "I'm glad they can get a little rest. "The trek through the mountains was so hard on them, especially Marta." She glanced backwards at the frail-looking, dark-haired little girl, now curled up in her older sister's arms. "She is more delicate than Gretl, even. And I fear that Louisa caught a bit of a cold…"

The Captain smiled. "You looked out for them well, Maria. Now it is your time to rest." He took her hands and kissed them.

Maria pulled her hands back and returned her husband's smile. Yes, it was wonderful to feel safe…she leaned into his chest, closing her eyes. He felt so warm, so solid….

A moment later, she felt his fingers in her hair. "Maria," he said, softly, "There is a question I've always wanted to ask you…"

"Yes, dear?"

"Why is your hair so short?"

Maria opened her eyes wide, in surprise. "What?"

The look of half-apprehension, half-curiosity on her husband's face was so strong that she began to laugh. Loudly. In fact, the formerly comatose driver actually turned his head, and the children began to stir.

"I…what is so funny?" the perplexed look on Georg's face was so pronounced that it sent Maria off into another set of very un-ladylike peals of laughter. She had to clap her hands to her mouth to keep from snorting.

"I'm sorry," she managed to gasp after a moment. "It's just…the expression on your face…and no one has ever asked me such a question before."

"I was hoping you wouldn't be offended," said the Captain, dryly. "It seems that I had little cause to worry."

Maria managed to compose herself, but her eyes still brimmed with mirth. "I'm sorry. I was asked to cut my hair when I entered the Abbey. It symbolized my parting with worldly things." A faraway look entered her eyes. "It was long before, past my waist, and very heavy. It was straight as straw. No amount of heat or curlers could make even a single wave."

Georg chuckled and played with the short ends on her head. "Will you grow it out again?"

Maria smiled. "Yes, of course. After all, I am now a respectable Captain's wife, not a young nun-"and she reached up to kiss his cheek.

"I rather like your hair the way it is," the Captain said in his decided manner. "And," he added in a lower tone, "I do like your referring to yourself as the Captain's wife."

Maria poked him in the ribs, playfully. In between their marriage and the honeymoon, it had been amazing, the transformation in him. And now that they were safe and protected in Switzerland, she felt his new warmth and openness returning.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment; then Maria spoke. "Where do we go from here?" she asked.

"I don't know," Georg said honestly. After their arrival over the Alps to the Valley of Sargans, they had been met by one of Max Detwiler's "friends" in Switzerland. "For the life of me, I did not know that Max even had contacts in Switzerland. It is quite disconcerting."

Maria chuckled. "Max knows everyone everywhere, it seems."

"Max is a wonder," the Captain agreed. "He gave me a route over the mountains and told me that someone would meet us here. Everything was planned perfectly."

"I love it here. It is so quiet…." She glanced around. Even in the darkness of the early evening, the scenery that surrounded them was breathtaking. Here and there small village houses popped up, actually adding to instead of distracting from the landscape. "It's amazing."

"The beauty of this valley is deceitful, my dear," Geof said quietly, drawing her closer to him. "Do you see those cliffs?" he indicated the cliffs that surrounded the valley.

Maria nodded.

"They are major fortifications. Those cliffs are full of gunports." He paused. "In the event that Switzerland were to be….invaded, they would be used. He paused again. "And the soldiers of the Swiss Army….have all been commanded to fight to the death. Surrender is not is permitted, not even if every last one of them is killed."

"Oh, my…." Maria pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Yes," Georg nodded. "Switzerland is far too proud to bow to the rule of Hitler. And he knows that." He shifted on the hard wooden seat. "We are quite safe here…but ironically, this is called, the "Valley of Death."

Maria shivered and moved closer to the Captain. "I no longer like this place," she said softly. The air seemed more sinister now, and colder, heavy with the promise of an unknown threat.

Georg kissed her hair and held her tightly.

All of a sudden, their driver turned and spoke, his words slow and deliberate. His German was heavily accented, but still decipherable. "The Frau Von Trapp need not worry," he said in a raspy voice. "You dwelling is outside Sargan."

"Thank you, sir," Maria said in surprise- she had not even been aware that man was listening. "That takes a load off my mind," she said to her husband in a lower tone, with a puzzled look at the driver's back. They both laughed quietly, and sat back to enjoy the ride.

Three or four hours later, after driving through the village, rattling over a country road and passing through a clump of thick woods, the bread wagon pulled up to a chalet, looming over the trees.

This chalet was not like the small, simple village chalets they had all been passing earlier- it was large, covered an incredible amount of ground, and had obviously been built with luxury in mind. A snow-covered garden courtyard, fenced in, lay to one side, and Georg and Maria could see what had to be stables and riding grounds, a couple of acres over to the left. In the distance, snow-capped mountains were clearly visible. The chalet itself housed a large covered porch, balconies, and elegant Swiss-style carvings on the outside.

"Oh my…." Maria breathed. Beside her, Georg looked equally dumbfounded.

"Mother?" came a tired-sounding voice form the back.

Maria quickly turned. Gretl's round little face, almost lost in its mounds of wooly head covering, was blinking up at her. She rubbed her eyes, and then looked up. Her little mouth formed a round O. "Mother, a castle!"

Maria quickly picked her up, while Georg roused the rest of the sleeping children and the bread-wagon driver hopped off his perch and disappeared somewhere in the shadows that covered the front of the property.

The children stared up at the chalet in sleepy-eyed amazement, while gathering their property from underneath the flour sacks. Even the usually sophisticated-acting Lisel forgot to be "one of the adults," and goggled openly.

"Is this Uncle Max's?" Kurt whispered in awe.

"It's impossible." The Captain was speaking to himself just as much as he was answering Kurt. "I know Max's financial situation. There is no way that he can own an edifice of this magnitude! It must belong to somebody else. But who?"

Maria shook herself off, remembering the children. "We will find that out later. Now, we need to rest-"

Captain Von Trapp seemed to remember himself. "Yes, you are right." He reached into the wagon and picked up Marta, who had slumped against a flour sack in exhaustion. Her face was smeared with flour, too- remnants of an earlier scuffle with Kurt. "I wonder where the driver is?"

As those words left his mouth, the clearing in front of the house was suddenly flooded with the light of gas lamps, and a buxom woman and equally stout man burst out of the front door, carrying blankets and lamps. They rushed over to Maria and the Captain, greeting them in heavily accented German.

"Welcome, Captain Von Trapp, Frau Von Trapp." The fat man pumped the Captain's hands enthusiastically. "We have been expecting you! This is my sister, Fraulein Freya Ebbe-"and he indicated the stout woman, who was relieving Maria of Gretl. "I am Garth Ebbe."

"Oh, my!" the round-cheeked woman peered into the wagon. "He said there would be children, but I did not think so many!" She began to indicate that they step down and follow her. "You, great girl," she commanded Lisel, "take the other little one from your father and follow me."

"We are completely in your debt, and thank you immensely-" Georg began, surrendering Marta.

"No, no, none of that," Garth cut him off. "I do not own this place- I am a servant here."

"And may we not have the name of our kind host?" Georg asked.

Garth looked puzzled. "You are the friends of Max Detwieler, no?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then you are most welcome." Garth turned from him and began to assist the smaller children in climbing down from the wagon, hustling them all up the walk. "It is chilly! And the young ones should be in bed."

They entered the chalet, which was as impressive as the outside, in that it was luxurious, without being the least bit ostentatious. Garth and Freya, seemingly the only occupants of the chalet, moved so quickly that is was impossible to stop them and ask a question. Hot baths in the chatlet's three massive bathrooms were drawn and redrawn. Dirty, wet clothing was exchanged for dry. All were seated at a long table in an elegantly decorated dining room and served as much thick, rich beef stew and dumplings that they could hold.

After that simple but satisfying fare came tall mugs of hot, thick chocolate for the little ones, and brandy for the Captain. Then the children were divided up quickly and shown to various bedrooms around the chalet- Kurt and Friedrich to an east room, Brigette and Louisa to the west gable, and Gretl and Marta to an enormous room facing the southern sky, with Lisel acting as governess for them, and sleeping in a small room off to the side.

After an offer of more brandy and a cigar was politely declined by the Captain, he and Maria were shown to a spacious room on the utmost floor of the house, complete with its own bath and perched in a cozy tower.

At first, Maria balked at being so far from the children, but Freya intervened, reminding her that the children were all paired together, so they wouldn't be alone- and that they were only a floor down from their parents and besides, she would sleep on that floor. With her reassurances, Maria finally climbed into the large four-poster bed that inhabited the center of the room, where her husband was already sitting, dressed in a blue nightshirt that was slightly too big for him. It had a matching nightcap, but the Captian certianly wouldnt be caught wearing that.

"I wonder if this is Max's," he said, dryly.

Maria laughed and relaxed back into the coverings. It had been such a long time since she had experienced the pleasures of clean, soft bedding…..she felt her eyelids begin to droop. The sensations of being full, warm and safe were so overwhelmingly wonderful.

"I wish I knew who Max's backer was," fretted Georg.

Maria reached up and smoothed his forehead without opening her eyes. "Sleep, darling," she murmured.

"I hate being beholden to strangers. I hated being beholden to Max, except that I he owes me so many favors." His eyebrows came together. "It most likely belongs some of that political riffraff he associates with- oh, why did I not have a plan of my own?"

"Because you didn't know you were going to be called up. We had to leave quickly." Maria let her fingers drop to her husband's lips, holding them together with gentle pressure. "For heaven's sake, Georg, sleep, and be grateful that for once, Max can do something for you."

The reason and matter-of-fact tone behind his wife's comments finally got to him, as did the fatigue that was slowly creeping through his limbs. "You are right, my love," he said. Then after a kiss, he dropped down and fell into a heavy slumber. The answers would come tomorrow.

Well! What did you think? Who does the chalet belong to? What will happen in Switzerland? What kind of a new life will they have? REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!! Please?