The captain paced back and forth in his study, scratching his forehead with one hand, a slightly crumpled piece of paper in the other. He glanced down at the letter for what must have been at least the hundreth time that morning since he'd come across it on his way to breakfast.
He had woken up that morning feeling twenty years younger. Memories from the night before, from the dance he had dared to share with the woman that had been on his mind for weeks now, had come rushing back. In fact, he had hardly slept. How could he when he had finally held her in his arms, felt the heat of her body against his and stared into those deep blue eyes, his lips only inches from hers?
No, sleep hadn't come easily that night - and even when it had, it seemed he couldn't rid himself of her. There she was, in his dreams, dressed in that blue dress she'd worn the night of the puppet show, just standing on the garden path gesturing for him to come closer.
It was the same dream night after night. He'd see her out in the garden, her dress blowing slightly in the warm summer evening breeze and the moonlight bouncing off of her, highlighting her features perfectly.
She'd always reach out a hand, as though daring him to take a step closer. He never needed much convincing, he was happy to oblige. It was as though she had him under some sort of spell. Perhaps she did. It would explain why he'd been so taken by her, so mesmerized by everything she said and did.
Nothing seemed to make sense when he was around her. Nothing seemed to matter. Rules, etiquette, social classes... All the things that should perhaps have mattered simply didn't. All of that meant nothing to him, and yet he knew that it probably should.
He was a different man when he was in her company. A changed man. A better man. She had made him a better person, a better father and for that he could never thank her enough. She had drifted into their lives like a wind swept leaf on a automn day. She had turned up, out of nowhere and turned their lives upside down.
He had never met anyone like her. She had dared challenge him, a decorated war hero and she just a young postulant, only minutes after her arrival. She had answered back without thinking twice, in front of his children, no less. And she had stood up to him when it had mattered most, knowing that it wasn't her place, risking losing her job and being sent back to the abbey.
He knew now that she was so much more than she appeared to be. She was far stronger, fiercer than she looked. She wasn't afraid to fight for what she knew to be right. He loved that about her. He loved her.
He knew it was wrong. His feelings, his dreams, everything. It was all so wrong. But then why did it feel so right?
When he had taken her hand in his and lead her across the dance floor to the sound of the orchestra, he couldn't help but notice how well her hand fit in his own. Not to mention the way their bodies moved so perfectly together. How he wished he could hold her close again and feel her small frame against his.
That morning, when he had awoken, the need to see her again, to hold her again had been overwhelming. His mind had drifted momentarily to Elsa, who in the eyes of his so called friends, was perfectly suited to his way of life but his lack of feelings when it came to her was too hard to ignore. Difficult as it may be, he knew what he had to do.
He had left his bedroom feeling nervous and excited. He had been hoping to run into Elsa first so that he could take her to one side and talk things over. As much as he had enjoyed his time with her, he had always known deep down that she wasn't the one. She had brought him out of the terrible state he had been in after Agathe's death and for that he would be forever grateful. But it wasn't fair on either of them to prolong something that could never last.
His thoughts though, as he had taken the stairs a little quicker than usual, belonged to the woman who would most likely be cooking up some sort of adventure for the day with the children at the breakfast table. A small smile had crept onto his face at the thought of her and the children all talking over one another, none of them able to hear what the other's were saying but all understanding perfectly well.
A small chuckle had escaped him as he had made his way to the dining room. His smile had soon been replaced with a frown as he'd noticed an enveloppe propped up against a picture frame on the side table. Intrigued, he had stepped closer but he had stopped dead in his tracks when the name on the letter had become visible.
Captain.
He had seen that writing before. He knew that writing. It was unmistakable hers.
By the time he'd even got to his study, he must have read it at least ten times. His eyes had trailed across the page over and over, scanning every word in case he'd missed something. He had to have missed something. That couldn't be all there was.
He had closed the door behind him, making sure he was completely alone. He had pulled out his leather chair from behind his desk and slumped himself down in it. He placed the letter on the desk in front of him and ran a hand over his face as his mind once again wondered back to the night before.
This time though it was different. He tried to think back to something, anything he might have done wrong. It must have been the dance. What was he thinking? He hadn't even given her a choice for God's sake! He'd just put her on the spot in front of the children. He cursed himself for having been so foolish.
"Damn!" He slammed his hand down on the wooden desk and swiftly got up from his chair and began pacing the room.
He'd read the letter so many times, he had unknowingly memorized it off by heart. Her words filled his brain, it was as though she was in the room with him, speaking them over and over and over again and each time would be more painful to hear than the last.
Captain,
I am sorry to tell you that I missed my life at the Abbey so much that I just had to return.
I do hope you can soon find a replacement for me. I would hate to cause trouble for you.
Please say goodbye to the children for me. I will miss them dearly.
Fraulein Maria.
His mind drifted to his children. How would he tell them? Maria wasn't just a governess to them, it was clear to see that they had come to regard her as their mother. She had been more of a parent to them in such a short amount of time than he had in years. The shame of it weighed heavily upon his shoulders, and since finding the letter, that weight seemed to have doubled.
She had been there for the children when he couldn't be. When he should have been. She had made them feel loved and wanted for the first time in far too long. She had given them hope, and happiness as well as a reason to smile. She had even brought music back into their lives, which wasn't something he'd realized he had missed until he had heard their voices harmonizing together beautifully the day he'd returned from Vienna.
What had he done?
If the children didn't already blame him for their unhappiness over the past few years, Lord knows they would now. How could they not? He had only recently found them again after Maria had opened his eyes to them, he couldn't bear to lose them now.
And how must Maria have felt to have decided that staying under the same roof as him for a night longer would be too unbearable? Had she left during the party? How could he not have noticed? He had most likely been too occupied entertaining his guests, most of whom, he realized he had never met in his life. No doubt some of Elsa's high society friends.
And then there was Elsa. What would he do now? When he'd woke up that morning, his mind had been made up. He was going to break things off with Elsa and ask Maria to marry him. How naive he had been.
He was sure he was going to wear away the wood flooring beneath his feet if he didn't stop pacing. He felt awful. His world had been turned upside down yet again and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
This time he swore he wouldn't let his own unhappiness get in the way of his relationship with his children. Whatever feelings he may have, he would have to put to one side. He would have to be strong for his children, something he failed to be after their mother's death.
He knew losing their beloved governess would be just as difficult, if not more so knowing that she had chosen to leave them unlike Agathe who hadn't had any choice in the matter. How could she have just left without saying goodbye?
He shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts and took a seat. It seemed he blamed everyone else for his own mistakes, he always had. But how could he blame Maria, knowing full well that he had driven her away himself? There was no one else to blame but himself and he hated himself for it.
"Georg?" His trail of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door followed by the voice of the one woman he didn't wish to see. Her voice might have sounded alluring and seductive to some, but all he ever heard whenever she spoke lately was dryness, emptiness... And never more so than now.
A/N: First of all, thank you for taking the time to read this, it means a lot. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I came up with the idea for this fanfiction the other day and just had to write it down. I have so many plans for this story so it could be a long one, but please bear with me.
If you could take a minute or so to leave a review I'd be so grateful. It's always good to hear your thoughts on my work.