A/N This story was written for augiesannie on her birthday; she is letting me share it here. She's pretty awesome like that. Enjoy.

Conversations

Part One

The sound of the crystal decanter rattled against his glass, shattering the quiet stillness of the villa. Every soul under the roof had been asleep for more than a few hours, that is, every soul except him. Sleep never came easy to him, but he hadn't caught a wink at all in three nights since the party and he was exhausted. That, coupled with the generous amount of alcohol he had consumed since dinner was his only hope for any kind of rest.

Georg returned to his desk and slumped back in his chair with a heavy sigh. Notes were pouring in now from party guests, congratulating him on a wonderful ball, hinting at the suitable match with Elsa, gushing over the performance of his talented brood. He sifted through the piles of correspondence on his desk with little interest when he found the note he knew deep down was responsible for his restlessness.

Captain,

I've returned to the Abbey. I'm sorry but I miss my life there too much. Please tell the children goodbye for me.

Maria

At first he was shocked that she was gone, they all were. But then he was annoyed. When she first arrived he gave her nothing but angry disapproval at every turn and yet she stayed. Even after it came to blows and he ordered her to leave, she remained (she agreed to stay when he asked, though he wouldn't have blamed her if she had refused). Then, just when things changed and they actually seemed to get along quite well, she decided to leave. It made little sense.

Georg tossed back the drink and closed his eyes as it burned its way down his throat. He told himself that he wasn't angry anymore, didn't feel anything really. After all, she was going to have to leave eventually. The agreement was only for a couple months, anyway. Did it even matter?

"Don't you think you've had enough of that stuff?"

He opened his eyes and froze. He blinked a few times, glanced at the bottom of the glass in his hand and then at the figure standing by the window. She was wearing that dress, that hideous dress that the poor didn't want, hat dangling from her hands brought together primly in front of her.

"What? How? H-how did you get here?" He blinked again, even bringing his hand to his eyes and rubbing them. Maria smiled.

"You're so tired, Captain," she said sympathetically. It sounded like an observation, but he suspected she was trying to help him answer his own question. "How can you even think straight?"

"Wh-what is happening, what's going on?" Just as he tried to move and realized he couldn't, she stepped closer, tossed the hat on a nearby chair and then continued until she was standing before him at his desk. She mockingly turned in a circle for inspection.

He was a man who operated by reality and logic. Everything told him it was impossible, but somehow there she was standing in front him! Maybe it was a dream. He slapped himself in the face, hoping it would wake him but all it did was make her laugh at him. He frowned at that, and gave her a sharp glare. He realized he still held her note in his fist.

"Why did you go?" he asked quickly, waving the paper in her direction. She gave it a quick look and shrugged.

"I was going to have to leave eventually," she said, repeating his thoughts back at him. "Why does it matter?"

"That's not an answer," he interjected.

"No, it's a question," she replied quickly, turning away and looking over her choices of a place to sit. "It's not like you're angry about it anymore. In fact, you don't feel anything." She made her pick and settled herself gracefully at the end of the leather sofa. She looked at him expectantly.

"You didn't say goodbye, you just… left," he said, unsettled to hear his thoughts thrown at him yet again. "The children were heartbroken." Maria tilted her head and studied him for a minute as he shifted in his chair. He remembered that she was always looking at him as if she was trying to see through him. It was most disturbing now that they were alone.

"So you are angry," she nodded.

"For my children, yes! After everything that's happened, they deserved better than a second hand goodbye left in a note."

"I suppose I would have said goodbye differently," she mused, before narrowing her eyes at him. "If they were the reason I left." She made a tired sound as she stood up again and moved to the side of his desk once more. She saw the notes covering the surface and leaned over them, twisting and turning her head as she read them.

"What's all this? So many," she said with an impressed gasp. "Oh, look! Here's one from the Ebberfelds. They seemed so friendly. They had such lovely things to say about the children at the party."

"Yes, well… these are some thank you notes from the guests," he mumbled as he placed a hand on them and shifted them around as if showing them to her.

"It was a success, then? The party?" Georg nodded slowly. "Good, I'm glad. From where I stood I could tell your friends were having a good time."

"Everyone had a good time," he mumbled in agreement. "Even you."

"I never said I didn't," she said defensively and then added quietly, "Not once. In fact, it was one of the most beautiful nights of my life." He couldn't help but note the wistfulness in her voice. In the far back corner of his mind, he had a feeling he knew why.

"Actually," he came back with a sudden renewed indignation. "You were asked to join the party and you seemed rather resistant to the idea."

"Of course I didn't want to stay for dinner," Maria answered huffily. "I had already eaten with the children. It was quite an inappropriate suggestion that Max made."

"You could've said no."

"I tried to say no!" She stood up straight and crossed her arms. "Max wouldn't let me, you were no help. None whatsoever."

"Well, I thought…" He looked into Maria's face and stumbled. "I didn't think…"

"All you had to do was come up with some excuse to let me off the hook but instead you… you didn't." She drew back with a mix of hurt and anger in her eyes. "My place was with the children. It was my task, the reason I was sent. Certainly not to mingle with party guests. And certainly not to…" She stopped.

"Not to what?" he asked.

"You know," she snipped. "Come now, Captain. You're going to have to think about it at some point."

"I don't know," he muttered. "Why do I have to think about anything anyway? Clearly I'm drunk and this is all just… insanity, that's what this is. You aren't really here. I've gone mad or I'm having some kind of dream or something." With that Maria returned to her spot on the sofa and waited. He felt his body slump in resignation. "What is it you want me to think about?"

"I don't want you to do anything," she said calmly. "You're the one trying to figure out why you care so much that I left."

"I don't care," he said, but it came out half-heartedly. He sighed. "Well, maybe a little. Everything was so much better when you were here. And it's been steadily falling apart since you left. I'm sure it was wrong to let the children get so dependent on you, but—"

"This isn't about the children," she reminded him. "What could they have possibly done to make me run away? Can't you put that military strategist mind into gear and figure at least that much out?"

"Fine," he replied. "This isn't about them." He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. "You were angry. That's why you left. You were angry because I wouldn't help you get out of Max's invitation to dinner." He tapped his hand on the edge of his desk with finality but she was shaking her head slowly.

"I wasn't angry," she scoffed. "Put out, maybe. Embarrassed. Nervous. You've seen me be angry, Captain."

"Yes," he conceded. "So it wasn't because of what Max did?" She shook her head again. "And not because of the children?" She shook her head again and stared at him as if willing him to figure it out. "Me?" Maria hesitated, looked at her fingers twisting together in her lap. Finally she nodded. "But what… what did I do that was so terrible that you had to run away?"

"Captain," she said gently, her voice smooth and calm. "You aren't really asking me, you are asking yourself. I've told you that it was one of the most beautiful nights of my life. Can't you figure this out? Can't you see what made me run away?"

"No, I can't," he answered helplessly. "How could it have been the most beautiful night if you left before even being a part of it?" He waited for her to answer, but she remained silent. Her expression remained serene, but he could see something in her eyes, something familiar and it made the hairs on his neck stand up. As soon as he thought of when he had seen it before, she gave him a relieved smile.

"I never expected to dance that evening," she said. "If you had asked me, I probably would have tried to refuse. But you just held out a hand to me, so earnestly and so… hopefully. I couldn't help but take it."

He sat up straight and considered her there for a moment. Once the matter was spoken aloud, he found himself filled with a sudden boldness. Another consequence of too much drink, he thought. Then again, so was she, sitting there in his study in the wee hours of the morning. It was all just a figment of his alcohol-addled imagination. He suddenly realized he didn't have to guard his thoughts. She knew them anyway.

"I was fascinated by you," he said, the words tripping out of his mouth. "I had just walked through the ballroom where some of the most dashing men were waltzing with the most beautiful women to the most exquisite music. But as soon as I saw you dancing with Kurt, well… you were so lovely." He added with an embarrassed cough. "And I was jealous."

"Of Kurt?!" Maria giggled. "That's positively absurd!"

"I know," Georg smiled. "But in that moment, seeing you laughing, so free, so happy… I knew that nothing inside could possibly compare to the beauty that I saw outside. And I resented that I was supposed to be inside."

"How very brave of you, Captain, to breech the great divide."

"It helped to be wearing all those medals, I suppose." She laughed again, rocking back on the sofa with such delight that he couldn't help but grin at her. "Anyway, it was just a dance."

The smile died quickly on her lips. He watched as the familiar look on her face returned. Her eyes explored his, wildly searching for some kind of truth. That night that they danced, she froze in his arms and looked at him exactly the same way. He recalled that in the stillness of their pose, she began to tremble.

"You became frightened at the end," he suggested, and quickly Maria cast her eyes to the floor.

"I-I couldn't remember the steps," she practically whispered. "But actually, the truth is…"

"Yes?"

"The truth is that I forgot that I was dancing," she said, still unable to look him in the face. "Suddenly I was distracted and lost track of what I was doing." Finally she sat up and looked at him. "I was frightened, yes, but the thing is that I was also unnerved and exhilarated and so… alive! I've come to expect certain things in my life, and the feelings I had at that moment were completely bewildering."

"So that's why you ran away, then?" She didn't answer him, only stood up and picked up her hat. She stood demurely and hushed his question aside.

"You look so tired, Captain," Maria whispered. "You really should try to go to sleep."

He tried to fight the heaviness in his eyes and limbs, but then she started to sing softly and he surrendered.

TBC…