A one shot I wrote a while ago, enjoy. Thank you to Bellarsam Chrisjulittle for looking over this story
The Ring
"Franz! Franz!"
There was pandemonium in the von Trapp household, as a frantic Captain woke the butler and housekeeper in middle of the night.
"Where is it? Where are my pants, I have to find it!"
Franz and Frau Schmidt were at a loss for words at the distressed state of the Captain. They found him in the servant quarters screaming and panicked. He was in his night clothes, and looking completely disarrayed with his blue velvet robe carelessly thrown on.
The two exchanged curious glances as to why Georg von Trapp would be so distraught over a pair of pants. Although they thought his behavior was extremely odd, they did not dare utter a word about it.
Every evening, after the Captain changed for the night, Franz would remove his clothing from his bedroom and place them in the laundry room for the servants to wash. In the middle of the night, Georg realized that the ring was missing, and that he had probably forgotten to remove it from his pants' pocket.
Thus the frantic search began; Georg would not rest till he found it.
Franz and Frau Schmidt took their employer to the room where the laundry was done. It was one the rooms in the villa Georg had never entered. Franz sorted through the pile of dirty clothing till he found the pair of pants that the Captain had worn that day.
Georg snatched the pants from the butler's hands and frantically rummaged through the pockets till he found Agathe's ring. He cursed himself for being so careless.
When his fingers closed around the small metal circlet, he finally relaxed. He apologized to Franz and Frau Schmidt for waking them, and he thanked them for their help. However, he did not explain his erratic behavior nor did he even try. He did not think they would understand.
The early rays of morning came through the windows, although the sun did not seem as bright as it usually did. Not when his world was so dark.
The night before, Agathe had asked to see the children one last time. Georg had begged her not to. Although he still held some hope that she would get better, he knew deep down that it was the end. There was no denying it. He gathered all the children and they somberly climbed into bed with her. Georg stood in the corner watching them. He did not join them, but he did not dare leave what would be the last time his children would see their mother. Agathe hugged them, kissed them, held them. It sapped whatever strength she had left, but she needed to do it.
Later that night, Georg laid next to her and held her in his arms. She was frail and very weak, her breathing was labored, and Georg felt every slow heartbeat against his chest. The hours ticked by, but to Georg it felt that they flew by. Midnight turned to one, one to two, two to three, three to four – until dawn.
Georg was reminded of an old adage: the darkest part of the night is before dawn.
"Georg," he heard Agathe utter softly.
"Yes, darling?"
"I love you."
It was a simple declaration, one that two people say to each other so many times, so casually. How many times had Georg said it to her, how many times had she said it to him?
"Agathe please," he begged.
"I love you," she repeated firmly.
"I know, I love you too," he vehemently declared.
"Promise me something, Georg."
Georg knew what she wanted. She had been hinting it to him for several days now.
"Promise me you'll marry again."
"Please don't," he cried. "I can't, Agathe, I can't!" He held her as tightly as he dared to. Throughout her illness, he had tried to be brave. He had tried to remain optimistic, even though he was not an optimist by nature. He tried not to show how worried he was, how angry he was, how scared he was. He never cried in front of her, although he did privately. He strived to be as strong as she needed him to be. But now, right before dawn, he could not be that man anymore. He failed to hold back his tears. And it was Agathe who comforted him. She held him as he sobbed; she lovingly stroked his hair and kissed his tears. She had accepted her fate and had made peace with it. It was time for him to make peace with it, too.
It was the end.
"Look at me, Georg." She took his face in her hands, and looked deeply into his eyes and soul. "You can, and you must; you have so much love to give. The children will need a mother, and you will need someone to love you back."
"Please, don't ask me to," he whispered.
"I have to," she said with a faint smile. "That way. I'll know you'll do it. You've never broken a promise to me yet."
Agathe took Georg's hand; she placed her wedding ring in his open palm and closed his fingers around it. She kissed his hand and kissed his lips. She settled next to him and relished being close to him for one last night.
At dawn, she was gone.
With Agathe's ring clutched tightly in his hand, Georg made his way from the servants' quarters back to his bedroom. He went to the dresser where all of Agathe's things still lay. He held the ring up against the light. GvT you have my heart the inscription read. He opened Agathe's jewelry box and found a very thin gold necklace. He looped the ring onto the necklace and closed the chain around his neck. The ring and necklace were both made of fine thin gold. Under a shirt and tie no one would know of their existence. But Georg would always be able to feel its presence on his skin, for he could not risk losing the ring again.
Satisfied, Georg glanced at his watch. It was almost morning. There was no chance he would fall back asleep. He walked past his bed and moved towards the large French windows overlooking the gardens. He threw the curtains back and stared out at the pitch-black sky.
The old adage was true, he thought. The darkest part of night was truly before dawn.