Chapter Seven: The West Wing
"Well, isn't this lovely?"
With a thin-lipped smile, Georg nodded in response to Elsa. It was all right, he supposed, but it wasn't lovely. He shifted on the settee, trying to get comfortable. The smell of hair lacquer wafted under his nose as Elsa leant in closer towards him.
"You know, Georg, I don't think we've had a moment alone since we arrived in Salzburg," she said, dropping her voice as she placed a hand on his knee. "And I do miss our moments alone."
Before he knew it, Elsa was tugging him closer towards him, her painted lips sticking to his own as she pressed herself into him. With his body on autopilot, his hand snaked around her waist, drawing her firmly against him. But his heart wasn't in it. The dreams of last night kept assaulting him. And all day he'd had to reprimand himself every time he noticed something about the governess. Something he shouldn't notice.
He had hoped it had just been one of those strange dreams, the ones that happen every once in a while and you forget all the details the moment dawn breaks. But it seemed to have awoken some part of him he really thought long dead, and the vivid images refused to leave. Elsa had always been a great comfort, but he hadn't really been that interested. Agathe had taken both his heart and any real interest in the opposite sex with her to the grave. Or at least, so he thought.
His arrangement with Elsa was proper and dignified. She was charming, witty, the perfect hostess and utterly gorgeous. Yet, here he was trying to swat away the image of Fraulein Maria underneath the summer sunshine in the gazebo while Elsa clung onto him.
The memory of Fraulein Maria in his dream caused a roll of unbridled desire to shoot through him and his grip on Elsa's waist tightened, bringing her closer. She sighed his name against his mouth and Georg instantly stilled, pulling away from her with care.
"Elsa," he said somewhat stiffly, "I apologise, that wasn't-"
She waved a hand dismissively. "Georg, I've had plenty of experience with sailors, trust me, you can't frighten me." She smirked at him. "But I best go freshen up before we have drinks with Max."
He watched her leave, his mind reeling as he berated himself for thinking of another woman while with Elsa. What had happened to him?
With determined resolve, he rose and headed upstairs.
She hadn't planned on doing it; she didn't mean to do it. But she had.
Maria let out of the breath she'd been holding and stared around the dusty attic. It was large and most of it was filled with furniture and boxes, all covered in dustsheets. She had expected something else. Something more sinister, perhaps. Maybe she'd read 'The Phantom of the Opera' too often. There were no dribbly candles, or a haunting air in the attic. It was just an old attic.
Her body deflated.
After putting the children to bed, her feet, had lead her to the west wing and up the stairs to the attic. The children had been talking more of their mother lately and Maria felt they should have something of hers. Even just a photograph. How could they not even have that?
Brigitta had of course told her it was locked, but when she had tested the door, it had swung open with ease. And nothing could have stopped her from climbing the steps and entering the dusty attic.
Wandering through the room, a shimmering light caught her eye and she made her way through, the sound of the wood underneath her feet creaking as she moved. At the back of the room was the most beautiful wedding dress Maria had ever seen in her life - not that she had exactly seen a lot. The moon was cutting through the large windows that were set high on the walls and illuminating the shimmering fabric. The mannequin it was on was faded and old but the dress was perfect. Even the veil looked perfectly preserved.
Moving closer she noticed the beads intricately woven into the dress, which was making it shimmer so much. With a careful hand, she leant closer to touch it.
"What are you doing in here?"
Maria spun around, her eyes wide as she took a step back and tripped over a box at the sight of the Captain standing before her.
Georg hadn't meant for it to come out in such a growl, but it had. A moment's peace was what he had needed. A small break from the persistent thoughts tumbling about his mind. But no, he could not even have that. The reason for his troubled mind was here, her hand mere inches from touching Agathe's wedding dress. A dress that brought such a rush of emotions he felt like he would burst if he lingered too long over them.
"I'm-" Fraulein Maria paused to steady herself on a nearby dresser. "I'm sorry."
"I told you never to come here," he snapped. "I distinctly recall telling you that there were certain parts of this house that were not to be disturbed." He sucked on his teeth, trying to quell his anger. "And I told you the other day not to come in here."
Georg moved closer, hearing his own feet tapping against the hard floor. He was aware she was frightened, but she damn well needed to learn. And it was just so much easier to get angry with her. To blame her for the thoughts he'd been having.
It was all her fault.
"I didn't mean any harm," said Fraulein Maria, her steps faltering as she drew herself up.
"Do you realise what you could have done?" he demanded, his voice a deadly hiss as he jerkily gestured with his head towards Agathe's dress.
"Captain," begun Maria in slightly pleading tones, "I honestly didn't mean any harm. Please. I-I-" She took a gulping breath. "The children just wanted something of their moth-"
"Get out," he said, in the same menacing tone.
"Please, I-"
"Get. Out."
"Captain, if you'll just listen," she tried, clasping her hands together.
Listen? Why should he listen? She never did. And it was his house. His children. His memories she was disturbing with her impossible eyes and rosy lips.
"Please," she said firmly, sticking out her chin. "You can't keep her memory locked up here like some dirty secret." He watched as she clenched her fists. "They're children and all they want is something of their mother's, why is that so bad?"
That hurt, her words piercing his heart as effortlessly as a needle pulling thread. He took another step closer, looming over her. Trying to intimidate her. But she didn't back down, no, she was going to fight him with everything she had. Just like she had the day he'd come back from Vienna.
"I do not care to hear about this, you have no right-" he began but she spoke over him
"You must," she pleaded, her voice softer than before. "I understand it must be hard for you, losing your wife, but they lost their mother too."
She was watching him carefully, her blue eyes too much for him to bear so he broke eye contact. How did this woman manage to do this to him? He couldn't even look at her right now.
There was the sensation of a warm hand touching his wrist and he was sure he felt his heart stop. The jolt coursed right through him, seeming to light up every single nerve in his body. He wrenched his arm away and made the mistake of looking at her face. The look of pure concern on it was devastating.
On instinct, he went to reach for her - for what he wasn't really sure. To hold her? To kiss her? To push her away? He desperately needed her to stop talking and he desperately wanted – needed - something; his subconscious was floating too close to the top. But his better sense kicked in and he hastily dropped his hands and took a step back. But it was too late; the concerned look on her face had completely vanished to be replaced with something he knew all too well.
Fear.
"Get out now, Maria," he managed to say in a hoarse whisper.
She ran. And all Georg heard was the sound of the door slamming shut and her feet rushing down the stairs until there was another muffled bang as she ran through the second door. Then there was silence.
Clenching his hands, he drew in a deep breath and tried to think. But he couldn't.
Turning sharply, he marched out of the attic and made his way towards the main foyer. As he came thundering down the stairs, he saw Max, who was standing at the bottom on the staircase with a bottle of wine in one hand and a confused expression on his face.
"What happened?" Max asked, bewildered.
"Nothing!" snapped Georg, continuing to march down the staircase and across the foyer.
Following, Max glanced at his friend as he walked stiffly and silently into the study. He slowly closed the study door behind him while he watched Georg pour himself a drink.
"Hmm, nothing you say?" Max said as Georg downed the amber liquid in one large gulp. "I didn't realise 'nothing' required a double scotch."
Inhaling sharply through his nose, Georg rounded on Max and poked him in the chest. "Do not even start with me, Max, I am not in the mood for games."
"I'm not playing a game, Georg," Max said pleasantly. "But I just saw your little governess, practically on the verge of tears, running out onto the street."
Georg shrugged his shoulders and tried to feign indifference, but he couldn't deny the sharp stab of guilt. "So?"
Raising an eyebrow, Max said, "Did you say something to her?"
There was nothing but silence as Georg tried to busy himself with his drink.
"Did you do something?"
At that, Georg slowly placed his drink on the desk with a resounding clack.
"What," Georg said scathingly, "is that supposed to mean?"
Max sighed. "Georg, you bicker with that girl on a daily basis but never have I seen her as upset as I did just now." Not letting the glare on his friend's face cow him, he went on, "She has dealt with your temper and impossible ways since being here but I thought, well-" Max scratched his nose awkwardly. "I don't know what I thought. But I believed you at least had some respect for the girl."
Max watched carefully as his friend picked up the glass tumbler, refilled it and set it back down on the desk once more. He knew he had to be careful. Georg was like a wild beast sometimes. You could never tell how he would react. He was usually quite good at concealing his emotions, but Max had known him a long time and Georg seemed to fail completely in hiding his emotions when it came to women.
Not to say that he was an open book that any lovely lady could come along and simply pick up and read from cover to cover. But when Georg cared, he didn't do anything in half measures. And since Maria had told Max yesterday about her and Georg's little library adventure, he had been paying careful attention to the way Captain von Trapp interacted with his children's governess today.
And like he had said to Georg, he wasn't completely sure what he thought. But he had an idea, or two, and they weren't good. At least, not for him and the lovely money… and definitely not for Elsa. However, it was possible that Georg just didn't want to lose a governess –another one – and one that the children actually liked. For some reason, Max had a hard time believing that was the reason Georg seemed to care so much.
Casting another glance at Georg, Max saw his eyes were unfocused and he was just staring unseeing at the top of his own desk.
"Georg!" said Max.
"What?"
Max shook his head. "It's getting late and you know Franz will lock the doors in an hour. Are you honestly telling me you are going to let her stay out there?"
Growling under his breath, Georg simply pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to sort his head out.
"Fine," he heard Max say. "I will go get our girl back and apologise to her for your awful behaviour." Max sighed. "Honestly, Georg, they call me a beast but you are far worse than I."
Running a hand through his hair, Georg gave an exasperated sigh. "No, I will go look for her. You stay here and make sure Elsa is entertained."
Pushing through the front door, Georg walked briskly out into the summer night. The air was warm and a light breeze tickled his face as he walked. As he reached the open gate, he stopped. He glanced down both ends of the long road and wondered where on earth she would have gone. There were no mountains here but there was the lake, the same one that ran through the back of the villa. So, he took a left and walked down the dark road. The moon was full and bright, illuminating his path along with a few lamps that flickered sporadically in the darkness.
He was distracted when he heard the muffled sounds of movement, the sound of a woman yelling and a thud to his right. Crossing the road, he headed towards the stretch of grass and trees that ran along the bank of the lake. As he neared, he was met with the vision of Fraulein Maria shuffling backwards desperately on her hands as a man towered over her.
Without thinking, Georg was moving quicker, adrenaline kicking in as he stepped between her and the man, and gave the man a sharp punch in the nose that caused him to stumble back. As he fell Georg caught sight of another man, though Georg realised that they both looked quite young, who came tearing towards him.
But Georg was quicker, and he hastily grabbed both of the man's arms and sharply twisted them so they pressed into the man's back at an uncomfortable angle. He hadn't done this sort of thing in so long. And even then, it had been in training. But it had been so ingrained into him, to learn how to fight in combat, that his body did without thinking. It was all reflex.
"Go," he commanded, pushing the drunk youth into the ground next to his friend. "I never want to see either of you here again."
One just glared at him, tugging on his jacket as he righted himself.
"We were just keeping the lady company," he slurred.
"You are not fit company for any lady," Georg said, who had also noticed the pin underneath the lapel of the man's jacket. It was the symbol of Hitler and Georg clenched his fists.
There were more of them these days. Usually they huddled in secret, never revealing anything. But the younger ones didn't care. Especially when drunk. It made Georg sick. This was not his home anymore. This had not been what he had fought for.
"Captain!" came the urgent cry from Fraulein Maria.
Twisting around to face the governess, Georg went to open his mouth to speak but instead of words, a hiss air was all that escaped his gritted teeth. There had been a third man that Georg hadn't noticed and he had managed to sink a knife into Georg's arm. The pain blossomed sharp and hot but he managed to move in front of Fraulein Maria so the attacker couldn't hit her.
Summoning all of his strength, Georg grabbed the attacking man's hand and kicked him forcibly in the chest. The man tried again to slice at Georg agan but he'd been winded by the blow to the chest and so he missed, which let Georg grab him by the scruff of the neck with his uninjured arm and hurl him towards the other two drunkards.
"Leave now!" he ordered.
The men scarpered, each one holding onto the other to try and get away as quickly as possible. The rush of adrenaline that had been coursing through Georg's veins, slowly dwindled and he became painfully aware of the insistent throbbing in his arm and the light-headedness that was suddenly overtaking him. He staggered, clutching at his arm when he felt Fraulein Maria move towards him.
"Captain, you've lost a lot of blood," he heard her say.
Her mind on autopilot, Maria grabbed the bottom of her dress and tore off a long strip of fabric so she could wrap it around the Captain's arm. She tried to ignore the amount of blood that was on him, and now on her, as she finished tying it securely. She just had to focus on getting him back the to villa.
Grabbing his other arm, she pulled it around her shoulders and gently nudged him back towards the road. Maria glanced up at him through her lashes as they walked, his face was pale and his shirt and jacket were covered in dark red blossoms of blood. Her heart had finally calmed down, and she was finally able to think a little more clearly now that the fear had ebbed away.
She knew she shouldn't have run off like that. While Maria had felt, both in her head and her heart, that the Captain wouldn't have hurt her, it had been hard to shake the image of him lunging towards her. It had reminded her too strongly of her uncle when he'd had too much to drink. Both him and her aunt had been awful people, they had been the reason she had escaped into the world of stories. Those memories were something she didn't want to be reminded of, and certainly not by the Captain.
He had told her not to pry, and she had been told by multiple people not to go into the attic. But did Maria listen? No.
She had to think she was the big heroine that needed to rescue everyone – even the bad tempered master of the house. All she had wanted was something for the children, though, so they didn't have to sneak around. Her thoughts were interrupted when they finally reached the open gates of the vila.
With a sigh of relief, Maria helped the Captain across the gravel drive and up to front door. Once inside the house, she lead him into his study and made him sit down on the lounge in front of the unlit fire. Hurrying out to the bathroom to grab the emergency first aid kit, she nearly ran into Max.
"Good God, what happened to you?" he asked, his face utterly horrified.
Realising she must have looked a fright with her blood and grass stained dress, she spoke quickly. "The Captain was attacked by some Nazi thugs, I think he will be all right but he bled a fair amount."
"I will go fetch some hot water and towels for you," said Max who marched off in the direction of the kitchen.
Quickly grabbing the supplies from the bathroom, Maria headed back to the study. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and slowly walked towards the Captain. She had never seen a proper fight before. And it was something she never wished to witness ever again. But seeing the Captain move the way he had, had been mesmerising, the sheer strength that lay underneath those finely tailored suits was undeniable. He had picked up that man like he weighed no more than Maria. She was still mad at him, but he had saved her life. Undeniably so.
Approaching him slowly, she lay out the kit on the large coffee table and turned to face him. "Are you feeling all right, Captain?"
"I have been better, Fraulein," he replied shortly. "Being stabbed isn't something I prefer to do in my spare time."
Before she could respond, Max breezed in with a large bowl of hot water and a few towels. He moved over to the drinks cabinet, and poured three glasses of scotch.
"Here," Max said, as Georg took the drink.
Downing it in one go, he let the drink burn his throat. "Where is Elsa?" he asked Max.
"She's in the parlour," Max said. "Do you want me to get her?"
"No," Georg said hastily. "Please, go keep her company, I do not want her to know – at least not right now."
Max tossed his own drink back and passed the third glass to Fraulein Maria. Georg heard her protest but Max was all ready shoving it into her hands and telling her it would help.
"Are you sure, Georg?" Max asked, looking curiously at the governess. "What do you want me to tell her?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Georg said, wincing as he shifted on the lounge. "Tell her I'm indisposed and I will make it up to her tomorrow."
"All right," Max said slowly. "Maria, do let me know if you need any help at all."
Maria nodded, still holding the drink, and watched him leave, shutting the study door behind him.
"Captain…" Maria said hesitantly as she sat down on the lounge next to him - though taking care to sit only as close as needed.
"What?" he snapped.
"You need to take your jacket and, uh, shirt off," she said, unable to stop her face from going pink. "So I can clean the cut properly."
"It's fine," he bit out, grimacing as his arm throbbed. "I can see a doctor tomorrow morning."
"Captain, it needs to be cleaned properly or else it will get infected," Maria said.
"Fine."
Leaning forward, he shrugged out of the jacket, wincing as he did. The whole top of his arm where the knife had cut him burned. He managed to pull off his tie but as he went to undo the buttons, his arm throbbed and he failed, miserably, with one hand to undo the buttons of his shirt.
Closing his eyes briefly, he sat back and said, "I can't undo them with one hand."
"Oh," Maria said, looking at the drink in her hand.
"Just drink it, Fraulein," Georg said irritably. "It'll be good for the shock."
Without another thought, she swallowed it quickly, and then began spluttering. She saw the Captain smirk at her while she clutched at her chest as she coughed.
"Hurry up."
She shot him a scowl before she dropped her eyes to his shirt. Maria reached out and undid the buttons, trying her very best not to look at the skin that was slowly being revealed underneath. But it was a losing fight. She knew this. It's no different than if one of the children had hurt themselves, she tried to tell herself. But it was different, it was as different as different could possibly be.
It wasn't that she had never noticed he was handsome and obviously in good shape, it was just that she hadn't really thought about it. It hadn't mattered to her what he looked like underneath his buttoned up suits. She hadn't cared. But right now it was certainly difficult to ignore the affect it was having on her.
"Fraulein!" Georg said, cutting through Maria's haze.
She'd been taking far too long, fumbling her way down his torso. Maybe she was still frightened of him and her nerves were causing her to take so long. Whatever the reason, it was driving Georg to the brink. He tried staring at the ceiling, trying to forget the his governess was undressing him. But it was pointless.
His traitorous brain, that seemed to delight in thinking of nothing but inappropriate thoughts about Fraulein Maria, conjured up the lovely image of her undressing him in a much more desirable situation. And that her hands would be fumbling because she was too desperate, too wanting, for him. And it was so easy to imagine. With the feel of her hands working their way down his shirt, he could picture her -
Stop, he ordered himself. Deciding that staring at the ceiling was not helping with his wild imagination, he looked down and watched her fingers. But it really wasn't any better. Instead he tried to focus on thinking about Max with nothing but a pink feather boa. He nearly vomited at the thought.
Finally Maria had released all the buttons and then she helped him undo the cuffs as well so he could take the shirt off. The left sleeve was drenched in blood and she tossed the shirt on top of the ruined jacket. Grabbing a small cloth, she wet it in the hot water and then wrung it out carefully. Turning back to face him, she tried to keep calm but her heart pounded in her chest at the sight of her employer naked from the waist up.
No matter how many times I pray, Maria thought, I'm never going to forget this.
There was a dusting of dark hair over his chest, and she certainly couldn't deny how evidently fit he was. It was clear from the way he had fought that he had strength, but seeing his muscles move underneath his skin was something else entirely. She felt her traitorous face flush with heat again.
Dragging her eyes away from his chest, she placed the cloth on his arm and wiped some of the blood away before she started to clean the wound.
"Just hold still," Maria said gently.
"That hurts," the Captain hissed, flinching and moving his arm away on instinct.
She went to do it again but he moved his arm away from her once more, forcing her to come closer to him on the lounge so her knee leant again his.
"If you'd hold still it wouldn't hurt as much," Maria retorted and he stayed still as she went to clean it once more.
She placed slightly more pressure than necessary onto the deep cut and the Captain winced, and Maria instantly chided herself for her childlike behaviour. He had rescued her, even if it was his fault in the first place.
"Well if you hadn't have run away," the Captain snapped, "this wouldn't have happened."
Maria looked up from his arm to glare at him. "If you hadn't frightened me, I wouldn't have run away!"
Georg opened his mouth to respond but closed it immediately, unable to think of anything reasonable to say. It was her fault.
"You shouldn't have gone into the attic," he said haughtily, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his arm.
"You should learn to control your temper!"
"So should you!"
They both stared at each other and an awkward silence fell. Georg felt her continue to gently clean his arm and tried to keep his mind focused on the pain so he couldn't let his thoughts stray - again.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said slowly and he fixed his gaze on her once more. "Forgive me."
"I do," Maria said quietly. "I'm sorry for going where I wasn't supposed to. I should not have intruded like that."
Gritting his teeth, Georg tried to stay still as she wiped his arm down once more.
"Now, hold still," she said, grabbing the antiseptic. "This might sting a little."
Maria heard him hiss through his teeth as she applied the ointment on his arm, when she was done she then carefully began to wrap his bicep with a clean bandage. She moved efficiently, but with care, and couldn't help but delight in the feel of his arm under her fingers. I should not be thinking like this, she told herself, I'm going to be a nun. A nun, a nun, a nun.
Georg, who had been staring at the empty fireplace, turned his head to watch her as she worked. He had seen those same hands wrap bandages on Friedrich's ankle after a tussle or seen her smooth a plaster on a small cut after Gretl had a misadventure through a rose bush. And he could remember being unreasonably jealous when she had leant down and kissed the cut on Gretl's hand after. A small, ridiculous, bubble of hope emerged that maybe she might kiss his arm better, or maybe give him a kiss on the forehead or – no. Don't even go there, he told himself. Clearly the loss of blood was making him think utterly stupid things – even though he knew full well that these thoughts were not new. She's going to be a nun, he reminded himself. A nun, a nun, a nun.
As Maria placed the last bandage in place, she said softly, "All done."
Unable to trust his own voice, Georg merely nodded as she stood up and smoothed her dress down. Now that he was finally able to look at her properly, he could see her dress was smeared with blood and grass strains, and the hem was torn and fraying. She was staring at him with such concern in her blue eyes he was momentarily stunned. And there was something else in those wide eyes; she'd never looked at him that way before
Clearing his throat, he said, "Please, get changed and go to bed." He gave her a small smile. "Thank you, for your help. Even though I do not deserve it."
"'Forgive us the wrongs we have done, as we forgive the wrongs that others have done to us,'" Maria quoted, giving the Captain one of her stupidly wholesome smiles. "The cut wasn't as bad as it appeared, the knife must not have been that big. I think you'll survive."
After leaving the Captain in his study, Maria had returned the medical kit back to the bathroom and retreated back to her room. Stepping out of her dress, she held it up and looked at it forlornly. She sighed. It had been one of her favourite dresses that she had made but it was completely ruined now and so she folded it carefully before placing aside to throw out later.
Stripping the rest of her clothes off, she stepped into the bathroom and into the hot shower she had running. Letting the warm water soak through her skin, she let it wash away the dirt and blood that had managed to cake on her skin. She could still smell the sharp scent of the blood and she watched it as it ran down the drain. Seeing the Captain so hurt had made her chest ache. And hurt because of her. It had been like something from one of Brigitta's fairy tale books, the way he had rescued her. Though, it was true that he's no Prince Charming. Part of her still reeled from the confrontation in the attic, he had just been so angry with her. While she knew he wouldn't hurt her, she still did not understand his strange reaction to her when she had touched his wrist. The look in his eyes had been unreadable, and not just due to the lack of light in the attic. She'd seen anger, disdain, irritation and a multitude of other negative emotions flung her way before. But his eyes had been different, something new and alarming. There was something in him that she simply hadn't seen before.
A/N This chapter is mostly "But He Was Mean", which was the initial story I wrote and the reason why I am writing this one. I have made a few minor changes and chucked in different perspectives so that it's not exactly the same as the original story. But I didn't want it to have to be that you needed to read that story to read this one, so there will be a lot of repeated scenes. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
