A/N: I watched Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music back to back about a week ago (because I couldn't resist the allure of the Julie Andrews/Irwin Kostal collaboration, the "incomparable soprano" and legendary orchestrator), and noticed numerous similarities. This led me to wonder...in an AU, what if the ending of Poppins was the beginning to TSOM? I will only reference Poppins, and only in the beginning few chapters; this is very much a TSOM fic (I also have no idea where it's going/how far it will go, but we shall see!) Hope you enjoy it :)
I. Prologue
"GET AWAY FROM ME," Georg von Trapp roared, lashing out at the nurses who tried to treat him, bandage his wounds, give him that sickening medicine— "But sir, this will ease the pain!"
He immediately regretted moving his arm; the movement caused another spasm of pain from his shoulder to his elbow, and Georg let out another yell, this time in pain and frustration.
He was fighting the war again; he was on a ship, an exploding ship; he was wounded and his men were dead and this was his fault—
A warm presence was by his side. Georg felt, rather than saw. He almost did not dare open his eyes; despite his reputation in the navy for an admirable amount of self-control, his heart leaped at this new presence. Was it Agathe? Dare he hope?
A voice, the voice of an angel, began to sing.
A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.
"Agathe…" he heard himself murmur aloud. "Agathe, my love, come back to me."
Georg opened his eyes. Through his vision hazy with pain, he could not make out her face, only the vague shape and the ring of golden hair— or was it a halo? She continued singing.
Helps the medicine go down, in a most delightful way.
Georg reached upwards, the excruciating pain in his upper arm forgotten at the thought of reaching her, perhaps caressing her illuminated face. His fingers lightly brushed her cheek, but at that touch, a searing fire ripped down his arm. The angel disappeared.
Georg sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air. He could still feel the throbbing in his unwounded arm. Slowly, he recollected his surroundings: he was in the villa; Agathe was not here. She would never be by his side again. Her name, the mere thought of her crossing his mind caused far more pain than any injuries he'd sustained, and Georg gripped the sheets momentarily, waiting for the pain to subside. He'd been so wrong to think that losing her would hurt less over time.
But what of the angel? He could not recall the angel's face, could not recall if he had even seen her face, but somehow he felt that the angel was not Agathe. He knew she had been singing, but he didn't remember the tune, or the words. He only remembered the feeling of warmth beside him, and how his fingers, his arm, his entire body felt as thought it were lit aflame when he reached for her.
He always remembered every detail from his nightmares. He could never remember his dreams.
§
Maria Rainer packed her few belongings as quickly as she could, barely even folding her clothes before shoving them, almost violently, into her large carpetbag. She never liked to prolong these goodbyes; they were painful enough already. She'd been so wrong to think that saying goodbye would get easier over time. The children, Jane and Michael, had been absolutely wonderful. All they really wanted was to have fun, to be children while they still could, but they had nobody to turn to. And their father, he had come around far more quickly than Maria thought he would. She was initially confused as to why she was sent to the Banks family; they were wealthy enough to properly pay for a governess— or nanny, as they called it— and the children did not need help in their studies, unlike her previous assignments. It wasn't long before Maria realized that her task was not to tutor the children, but rather to reunite them with their mother and father, to mend the split seams of the family from behind the curtains. Well, she had done a decent job, it seemed, as she watched the family skipping along, clutching their mended kite.
Stop thinking about it! You'll only make things worse. Maria scolded herself, snapping her bag shut and turning away from the window. She could still hear the children outside, squealing in joy with their mother and father, laughing as a family. As it should be. Closing the grand white door behind her, Maria briskly walked the other direction, boots clicking against cobblestones, not once looking back.
Back at the abbey, Maria had barely set her bags down in her room before Sister Margaretta called for her.
"Maria? Reverend Mother will see you now." Maria furrowed her eyebrows, confused.
"Have I done something wrong? I thought I did well this time…"
Sister Margaretta merely smiled softly, shrugging her shoulders to indicate that she had no idea.
"Oh, well alright then. Thank you, Sister Margaretta."
Maria began to hum a tune she had invented for the two children during her time at the Banks's home (Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, how pretentiously precocious), but quickly stopped herself, remembering she was in the abbey once more. Worried thoughts flooded her mind as she made her way to the Reverend Mother, at a much calmer pace than she had been walking not five minutes ago. Had she left too early, not staying to make sure that the family would be fine? Had she overlooked something important? Sucking in a nervous breath, Maria knocked at the door.
"Come in." Maria walked in, knelt and pressed her lips to the Reverend Mother's hand before rising once more. "I apologize for calling you in so soon."
"Oh, Reverend Mother," Maria cut in. "Have I done something wrong? I was thinking that perhaps I left the family too early, or that I had overlooked an important detail…" Maria trailed off as the Reverend Mother smiled gently.
"No, my dear, quite on the contrary. You see, I received a request for a governess yesterday. I thought perhaps you should rest a little, and I should send someone else, but given your exemplary performance, I wanted to ask if you would be willing to take on another assignment in quick succession."
"Of course," Maria replied earnestly. "I do love working with children."
"And you seem to have quite a talent for it, a talent which you will greatly need with this assignment."
"Why so, Reverend Mother?"
"Captain von Trapp, an accomplished sea captain and a very honorable man, has asked for a governess for his seven children. They have been without a motherly figure in their lives since the death of his wife, the late Baroness von Trapp." The Reverend Mother paused to write down a couple notes.
"I see," Maria murmured. She was eager, but also rather scared to meet these children. Seven of them! Prior to Jane and Michael, she had only tutored individually. And the wealthy Mr. Banks was certainly a large figure, larger than she was accustomed to, but a naval sea captain?
"The Captain will be expecting you tomorrow morning," the Reverend Mother finished.
Maria's eyes widened and she gulped. "Tomorrow?" She trailed off, clearing her throat awkwardly. "Thank you, Reverend Mother."
Back in her room, Maria flopped onto her bed, releasing a loud sigh. This was certainly the first moment she'd really rested since she'd arrived at the Banks's home a week ago. Well, she certainly wasn't about to get much rest now, with seven children to look after. How had she ended up a governess of seven children? Maria recalled that fateful day in the abbey, not three months ago, when the Reverend Mother had called for Maria, to deliver terrible news.
Maria, I am afraid it is God's will that you leave us.
Of course, Maria had been expecting this. One day prior, she had eavesdropped on a conversation between Sister Berthe, Sister Margaretta, and the Reverend Mother. Sister Berthe's scathing words still rang in her ears.
Maria's not an asset to the abbey!
The end result hadn't been nearly as bad as Maria expected. The Reverend Mother didn't force Maria to completely leave the abbey; instead, Maria, having attended teaching school before becoming a postulant, was assigned to tutor young children who needed help in various subjects. Seeing the children improve and open up was ever so rewarding, although Maria always formed some attachment, as did the children, making goodbyes rather difficult.
A sudden pang of hunger hit her, and Maria's stomach growled in response. She had left in such a hurry that she completely forgot to eat, and by the time she returned to the abbey she had already missed dinner.
"Oh, this is going to be one long night," Maria muttered to herself. She would need courage for this assignment. Courage and confidence, but perhaps less of her outspokenness. No need to unpack or undress, Maria thought as she settled in for a dreamless night. Tomorrow, she would need to be up just as the sun poked its head over the horizon in order to catch the first bus to Aigen.