Austrian Folk Dances
Part One – The Ländler
Chapter VII
Disclaimer: I do not own "The Sound of Music", you know the rest!.
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"Maybe the wildest dreams are but the needful preludes of the truth."
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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"There's a sad sort of clanking
From the clock in the hall
And the bells in the steeple too.
And up in the nursery an absurd little bird
Is popping up to say cukoo!
Cukoo! Cukoo!
Regretfully they tell us" (1)
But firmly they compel us
To say goodbye to you.
The children began their goodnight song to the guests and Maria discretely hid herself behind a column as they sang. She stood there, concealed from prying eyes – and from Captain von Trapp. She didn't want to think about it, yet it was the only thought running rampant in her mind. Him. Her eyes inevitably strayed to him. Fortunately, he seemed so proud, so enchanted by his children, that he did not notice her.
Why had he done it?
All Maria had to do was to raise her eyes, turn her gaze away from the children and look at all his guests, all those wealthy aristocrats, those refined men and women, to realize how staggering the differences between both of their worlds were. In her mind, there were only two ways in which she could be a part of that world. One was being a servant, which she already was. The other was too dishonorable, too shameful to be considered. Her cheeks heated at the mere thought of it – she had seen to many children at the orphanage who had resulted from such unfortunate situations. How could she be his… his… and would he even want her as such? And why am I even thinking such things? She questioned herself. It was a dance, a simple dance between employer and employee. Nothing more! She admonished herself.
Liesl was beginning her solo. Why had he done it? She repeated the question. Of course he had to be aware of that as well, aware of their social differences. And yet, he had defied them all and danced with her in the terrace… She looked at him again. There was a look of pure paternal pride as he watched the children, with a little mischief, when he heard Liesl ask to try her first champagne. His gloved fingers were on his chin, a gesture which he used to try and hide his amusement. He's failing miserably, she told herself.
Her gaze went to the Maria-Theresien cross around his neck. He was awarded it because he did not play by the rules, she thought. And wondered how far he would be willing to bend the rules, in her case. Bend the rules? No, break them.. And for what? A dance? It's more than that, her heart screamed – but her mind didn't listen. She tried to convince herself that a man like the Captain wouldn't push etiquette aside for anyone – not even her. She studied him – his amused gaze at his children, the possessive grip of the Baroness's hand upon his arm, his medals gleaming in the light.
It was the sparkle of the medals that made her realize something - Captain Georg Ritter von Trapp was, above all, a patriot. And even in those dangerous times, he never did a thing to hide the love he felt for his land. He even flaunted an Austrian flag in the hallway, and she had seen more than a few raised eyebrows at the gesture. When he saw her dancing the Ländler… a simple folk dance which was usually banished from high society balls - maybe, just maybe, it was that feeling in him that made him move forward and cut in. He wanted to be close to Austria, and, in that moment, she represented Austria. He had, after all, said that she looked very Austrian in her attire. The possibility was much less terrifying to her than everything else she had been considering. That must be it she tried to convince herself. It was much easier to accept the facts under this perspective.
But then his eyes shifted from his children to her. Their eyes met in the briefest of glances before returning his gaze towards his children. She leaned against the column, the cold marble hard against her hands and her chest. She noted that his whole demeanor changed. Gone was the softness and pride towards his children, in it's place was something else. The Baroness's grip tightened on the Captain, and he looked to the woman standing at his side, the woman who would be his bride. Maria couldn't watch them – she didn't want to see him as he looked upon his future bride.
"I'm glad to go I cannot tell a lie
I flit, I float
I fleetly flee I fly." (1)
She looked at the children again. The girls were doing a marvelous job at doing their little dance, then directing Gretl. She stole a glance at him, and her breath caught when she realized he had been watching her. He looked at her again, like he did while they were dancing. Again, her world narrowed down to nothing but him – as if there weren't hundreds of guests surrounding them, or his children, or the Baroness.
But there was something else there in his eyes, a range of feelings that were hard to identify. He looked at her… pensively, almost analytically. As if she were some kind if military target at which he was about to aim one of his deadly torpedoes. It was obvious that he too had seen what she had recognized; he too saw the vivid contrast between her and his guests. And he too was struggling, although she could not tell the nature of his inward battles.
"The sun has gone to bed and so must I
So long Farewell
Aufwiedersehn
Goodbye.
Goodbye…
Goodbye…
Goodbye…
Goodbye…" (1)
The children were through the door of the nursery, the guests were delighted with their performance, but was he? Was the battle she had seen brewing in his eyes directed at her or because of her? Had she gone too far in allowing the children to perform at his ball, or was there something else?
It was clear to Maria, that, whatever battles he was getting ready to fight, she had already lost. His whole attitude following the children's presentation told her as much. The glance he threw towards her, just before he was surrounded by his guests was... superior, almost indifferent. Haughty. He had become as cold as the column in front of her – as cold as the Count earlier in the evening.
She looked around quickly. With the children gone, she had no more allies. She was, more than ever, a fish out of the water. All that was left to do was to get out of there quickly.
"They're extraordinary. What they would do at the festival!" she heard Herr Detweiler saying to the Captain. When she tried to scurry away, it was already too late. "Oh,
young lady, I must have a word with you." He took her elbow and dragged her towards Georg and a group of guests.
"Georg, Georg! You're not going to let this girl get away. She has to join the party."
"No, really, I—" she protested, trying to get away from them all. Trying to hide once again.
"Sh sh sh. Stop it." The Baroness glared at Max and some of the other guests eyed her curiously. Max insisted "Georg, please."
"You can if you want to, Fräulein." His tone was cold, dismissive. A painful reminder of an expression that the Captain wouldn't say, wouldn´t allow her to say, but would think – she was just a governess. Never had she felt so unprotected, so alone, so out of place.
"I insist. You will be my dinner partner." The he turned to the Baroness, and whispered – not low enough so that Maria would not hear it. "This is business." Then he spoke to the stiff butler, still holding her arm "Franz, set another place next to mine for Fräulein Maria."
The butler could not hide his hesitation, unsure what to do. That only made Maria´s uneasiness grow. Franz looked at the Captain for approval, but got only a curt nod in response.
"Whatever you say, Herr Detweiler." Franz did nothing more than raise an eyebrow at her, but Maria could understand what it meant. The help simply did not eat with the guests. And the Captain had only agreed to that because it was better to go along with Herr Detweiler´s eccentricities than to start a confrontation with him in front of the guests.
"Well, it appears to be all arranged, doesn't it?" There it was again, that haughty tone. To which the Baroness added, icily.
"It certainly does."
Maria made one last attempt to escape the mortifying situation. "I'm not suitably dressed."
"Uh, well, you can change. We'll wait for you, " was the Captain´s quick, and yet dismissive response.
Maria was in a daze. Nothing made sense anymore. First he had looked at her like if the rest of the world disappeared. Then he treated her with indifference. Now he said that he would make the whole dinner party wait for her? It was too much. Her hands flew to her head. "All right," she resigned, walking away.
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"You can change. We'll wait for you."
Change? Into what? Her mind began racing at the thought. The dress she had on was the only one she had planned to wear this evening, and even it was borrowed. Doesn't he know that I don't have anything else? He had spoken like she had arrived from the convent with the same kind of luggage the Baroness carried along when she traveled. And now they would wait for her, what was she to do? Naturally she could not keep them waiting. She was so distracted that she nearly ran into Frau Schmidt on the way to her room.
"Yes… I mean no! Ahem… everything is… fine. I… I'm sorry, I don't seem to be myself, do I?"
"No, dear, you don't. I realize that it isn't my place to say, but… Is it true then? What they are saying?"
"What are they saying?" Maria was confused, what was who saying?
"Franz told me you danced. The Ländler. And with the Captain. In the moonlight! Alone!" Frau Schmidt said the words like they were a piece of juicy, delicious gossip.
Franz had mentioned it to her? Had he mentioned it to anyone else? That could have been the explanation for him to look so stiff and haughty when Herr Detweiler invited her to dinner. Walls may not have years or eyes, but butlers do – I should have learned that long ago, she chastized herself.
Maria hurried to correct her, stumbling upon the words in her eagerness to do so. "Oh – that. That is not entirely true. I was… we were… not alone. The Captain - he wanted to show Kurt how it was done, and I was close by. The guests were all in the ballroom…" She said, hating the way that her excuses seemed feeble.
Why did she feel like if she had done something wrong, something… depraved? In her mind, dancing with a man never qualified as a sin, even remotely so – even though she had never done it before, as an adult. Dance – and music – were a part of the Austrian soul, and how can something that is part of a whole nation´s soul, an expression of joy and pride, be shameful? Hastily, she made a mental note to discuss the matter with the Reverend Mother, or Sister Margaretta. It certainly did not feel unholy in any way, at least while she danced with him. It felt… right. It did not matter how odd she felt afterwards, but the dance itself had been nothing but… perfect.
"I see. And all the other children were around?" the housekeeper inquired suspiciously.
"Naturally they were!" Maria was appalled by the mere possibility insinuated by the woman and by Franz. "The Captain only asked me to dance in order please them. Naturally I could not refuse him, could I?" There, she thought – attacking was usually the best defense. She almost added that, in fact, Gretl had asked him to dance with her earlier, but decided against it. Anything I say now will only help to make things worse, she concluded.
"No, of course you could not have refused him, not if he had asked you. But… oh well…"
"What?"
"It's funny what a man will do to please his children. Even a man like the Captain." The housekeeper gave her a knowing look and went on about her business.
Maria couldn't help but wonder what the older woman meant by that remark. Of course she knew the answer – it was in the fevered thoughts she was having while the children were singing.
If he had done it only to appease his children, then why had he asked her to dance earlier in the evening? What would Frau Schmidt have said to that? She also wondered what the Captain´s reaction would be when he heard the gossip concerning their dance. There had been nothing tawdry about it, nothing shameful – and yet Maria feared that it would be misconstrued into something – something less beautiful than what it was. She had done it herself, hadn´t she? And if she had thought about it, why not anyone else – Frau Schmidt, for instance?
But it had been beautiful, the simple song, the moonlight, the children, their father… But would others see it for what it was – two people dancing? She didn't think so, and already she was concerned about what it would do to him. Would the gossip be another item to add to his list of "reasons why I should dismiss the twelfth governess"? She wondered if there was enough paper in Salzburg to write such a list, as long as it was now.
What was she expecting? He had defied society by dancing with her. He had defied etiquette, defied society, defied the Baroness.
Why had he done it?
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A/N:
(1) Lyrics by Rodgers and Hammerstein.
(2) Thanks to Mellie D. for the amazing beta work (honestly, she co-authored this one!). And Max, thank you in advance for the "buts"!
