Maria inhaled deeply, breathing in the crisp night air. It was an absolutely perfect night; not too hot, but not too cold; feeling mostly just fresh and welcoming.
Could there be a better night to host a magnificent ball?
She could faintly hear the music playing from where she stood in the garden just outside the ballroom. It was yet another waltz – the orchestra hadn't played anything different yet – and she couldn't help herself from swaying gently in time to the melody.
She was wearing a new dress tonight. It was hardly appropriate attire for such a 'grand and glorious party', but she was the governess and didn't need to worry about such things.
She'd briefly considered wearing her blue dress, but had eventually decided against it. As pretty as that dress was, Maria was almost frightened by it. She had only worn it once; she was so worried she would damage it. She had never owned anything that delicate.
Of course she could see now it was hardly delicate compared to the glittering evening gowns all the women were wearing tonight. The fabric was closer to the gowns being worn by the guests than to her other dresses, but the garment itself did not belong here tonight.
She felt far more comfortable in this dress. It was nicer than any of her other day dresses, with a pale blue bodice and an intricate floral pattern on the skirt and sleeves. But, most importantly, it wasn't silk or chiffon or organza or something no different to tissue paper in Maria's mind, but linen and cotton. She found that far more practical and in turn, felt more at ease.
Being the governess, Maria was only required to be present until they children said their goodnights. For all intents and purposes, tonight she was one of them; hiding in the background and do little outside of watching from afar.
She wanted the children to enjoy the party, and for their performance to go well. She hoped that the Captain, who had seemed hesitant to throw this event in the first place and exasperated at all the preparations, had a good time. And in a romantic, starry-eyed way she hoped that Liesl's wish to taste champagne and stay up longer than her siblings would come true.
But she knew better than to wish for anything herself. This wasn't her place and it wasn't her world. And even if she had the opportunity, she wouldn't know what to wish for.
And yet she couldn't help but want something to happen. She couldn't think of anything specific, but part of her wanted more than to stand on the sidelines watching with the children. She wasn't Cinderella; not even close. But this was still the only chance she would ever have to attend a ball.
On three separate occasions each boy had promised her a dance that night. So she knew that, if nothing else, she would get a dance. Or three.
Knowing that standing alone in the gardens was not only a sure-fire way for that something not to happen, but also not the best thing for the governess to do, she sighed and headed back towards the party and her charges.
She turned around the corner of the maze to find Liesl and Friedrich waltzing playfully around the courtyard while the other children watched.
"Why didn't you children tell me you could dance?" she asked brightly.
"We were afraid you'd make us all dance together," Kurt replied, spinning around in a circle. "The von Trapp Family Dancers."
Everyone laughed at the youngest von Trapp son's actions, stopping when they noticed the music had changed.
"What's that they're playing?" Gretl asked.
"It's the Laendler," Bastian announced authoritatively. "It's an Austrian folk dance."
"You know it?"
Maria was, in the best way possible, surprised that her cousin knew the dance. She had learned the dance when she was about his age, and fallen in love with it. The music more than anything; it was after all, the tune she and Natascha had paired with their lyrics to create The Lonely Goatherd. But, with the exception of the puppet show, she hadn't heard it since she was a child. She certainly hadn't danced it since then.
"Mmm-hmm," Bastian continued. "We had to learn it at school last year. I don't remember everything though. Show me?"
"Oh, Bastian," Maria sighed. However much she loved the dance, and whatever the boys had promised her, this was not what she had in mind. "I haven't danced that since I was a little girl."
"You remember?" he asked eagerly. "Please?"
"Well…"
"Please?"
He was joined by seven other voices this time, all accompanied by faces looking at her imploringly.
"Alright," she caved. "Come on over here."
"My teacher said the left hand behind the back," Bastian said.
"Yes, that's right," Maria smiled. "But first, the boy and girl meet. So you bow, and I curtsy."
She bobbed down while her cousin bent at the waist.
"Now we go for a little walk, this way," she began, reaching out, taking the boy's hand and turning so they were ready to start.
"One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three, step together."
Maria stepped forward to the beat and Bastian followed. A moment later, they faced each other and joined both hands for the next step. "Now, step hop, step hop," she instructed as they skipped in tandem back across the courtyard. "Now turn under."
The difference in height landed the cousins in an awkward tangle of arms as they continued with the dance.
"Not quite," she decided.
They tried again, hop-stepping their way back towards the von Trapp children and the door to the ballroom. But, while they had managed, however clumsily, to execute the turn last time, they weren't quite as lucky, and struggled for a moment longer.
"We'll have to practise," Maria concluded, giving up for the moment.
"Do allow me, will you?"
She barely heard the voice, or the reply, and turned around to find her employer standing before her rather than her cousin.
She had caught glimpses of him since the party started, but now she could properly see him. He was dressed like the other men, in a white tie and tailcoat. But not all the men had medals, and even those that did couldn't compete with Captain von Trapp.
The Reverend Mother had described him as 'a fine man, and a brave one' when she told Maria about the von Trapps. Though the first impression he had made on her had shocked her greatly, in time he had proved the Abbess' words to be true. He was indeed an incredible man.
And if the children's stories of their father's many decorations hadn't convinced her of his courage, then seeing the medals pinned to the breast of his jacket did. But more than that was the Maria-Theresian cross hanging around his neck.
The highest military honour in all Austria.
It was held around his neck by a red and white striped ribbon, a miniature Austrian flag to match the one hanging in the hallway; proudly showing his love for his homeland; the reason for his valour. The red of the ribbon coordinated with the other medals he wore, while the white matched perfectly to the white of his dress shirt and gloves.
His gloves.
One white gloved hand was extended towards her like an invitation. His eyes were asking the question.
She answered almost immediately; hesitating for only a second before reaching her own hand out for him to take.
Georg was walking through the ballroom when the band started playing the Laendler. For a moment, he was disappointed. While he usually had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, onto the dance floor for a minute more than was socially acceptable, this folk dance had always held a special place in his heart.
But Elsa wouldn't dance this with him; or anyone, for that matter. It was too common for her.
And every other woman already had a partner.
Figuring he may as well spend the time with the children, he made for the courtyard. And found Maria entangled with Bastian, trying to perform the dance.
He might just get to dance the Laendler yet.
By the time the cousins had failed the turn a second time, he was tapping the boy on the shoulder and holding out his hand, wordlessly asking Maria if she wanted to dance.
By the time it would've taken him to rethink the idea of asking his children's governess to dance a dance of courtship with him, she had placed her hand in his and it was already too late.
He saw Maria smile, somewhat shyly, at him as he led her out across the courtyard, and then as they step-hopped back the way they had come, ending with the under-arm turn.
As she twirled under him and the dance progressed, Georg noticed how graceful she was. This was the woman who regaled his children with tales about climbing trees and rolling on the grass, when she wasn't stumbling and tripping over her own feet as she went about her day? The woman whose childhood boasted scraped knees and torn dresses? In that moment she was just as poised and graceful as any of the ladies in the ballroom.
Her smile had widened; all traces of hesitation now long gone. He couldn't help but smile back. He had never enjoyed dancing this much before; it had been pleasant with Agathe, forced with Elsa and forgettable with anyone else.
But with Maria, it was magical.
They spun and stepped together, each movement bringing them closer to a whole new world, where nothing existed but the starlight, the music and them.
As Maria clutched her skirts and skipped around the Captain, she didn't feel clumsy or awkward. In addition to the music, one of the reasons she loved the Laendler was because it wasn't always fluid and elegant as other dances.
This move in particular had always felt clunky to her, making it both simultaneously her favourite and least favourite part of the dance. But skipping to her favourite childhood tune while her employer clapped along, Maria felt anything but self-conscious. She hadn't felt that way for the entire dance. When she was Bastian and Kurt's age some insecurity would've arisen by now.
But it hadn't. Tonight was just a beautiful dream beneath a moonless sky.
It was as she reached out and took his hand from over his shoulder that she realised it was more than the steps. This was it; her something. That mysterious, unknown thing she had wanted to happen to her tonight.
She followed him without hesitation, slipping around him, ready to head into the final stages of the dance. She only felt contentment as both her hands grasped both of the Captain's; one resting near her waist and the other held high over their heads as they spun around, once, twice, before changing directions to spin again.
One.
Two.
Three.
Maria hadn't taken her eyes off the Captain's since they had changed directions. Though nothing about the dance had changed, with each spin her head seemed to spin faster and faster, whirling out of control until she couldn't think straight.
She found she couldn't move either, and the dance came to a premature halt. Her grip on the Captain's hand slackened, her arm dropped and feeling foggy, she stepped back.
"I don't remember anymore," she stammered breathlessly.
She noticed that the Captain looked slightly shocked and, if she didn't know any better, sad. She couldn't blame him; while they had both lowered their arms at the same time, she had been the one to pull away. The fact that she had been enjoying the dance so much made her feel even worse.
But as she'd stared into his eyes, she'd forgotten everything. The ending to the dance she could've sworn was ingrained into her mind had vanished. The only thing she could think clearly about, and all she had been able to see, was him.
They stayed there for a moment longer – or maybe it was more – staring at each other in silence. The dance had officially ended and the ballroom was quiet.
Somewhat subconsciously, Maria found herself committing his face to memory. His eyes were so blue. His hair showed signs of grey, but even then, he had aged remarkably well; especially considering some of the most impactful years of his life were spent at war.
She didn't know how old he was. It had never seemed appropriate or necessary to ask the children. She knew he was some years older than she was, but she did not have an exact age.
There was a thin scar on his chin, but for her that only served to make him more distinguished.
Had she ever realised just how handsome he was?
She wasn't sure about that. The only thing she knew for certain right now was that he was handsome. The most handsome man she had ever seen.
"Your face is all red."
Brigitta's voice cut through the haze in her mind. Naturally the girl would notice such a thing.
"Is it?" she breathed. Her voice felt disconnected as she brought her hands up to cover her flaming cheeks. "I don't suppose I'm used to dancing."
The Captain flashed her an almost imperceptible smile before the attention of everyone present was diverted as Baroness Schraeder waltzed out onto the courtyard.
"Why, that was beautifully done," she commented with a smile. "What a lovely couple you make."
"Yes, I think it's time the children said goodnight," the Captain suggested quickly.
"Yes," Maria agreed softly. "We'll be in the hall in a moment. We've got something very special prepared, right?"
"Right?" the children agreed, and with a chorus of cheers, followed their governess out of the courtyard and back through the maze.
He had been back in the ballroom for only a moment before Maria appeared in the doorway, announcing that the children wanted to wish everyone goodnight.
With Elsa at his side, he followed the crowd into the foyer, where the children were assembled on the stairs. After one final whispered word from their governess, they moved into their places, forming a shape reminiscent of a cuckoo clock, and started to sing.
Like the rest of the audience, Georg found himself captivated by the performance. Even if it hadn't been his children he would've been very much impressed. The fact that the performers in front of him were his own family made it even more remarkable, and the fact that this sort of thing had been so absent in his life for so long made him all the more grateful.
"Cuckoo, cuckoo."
Everyone chuckled, as, imitating the cuckoo about which they were singing, Brigitta and Marta peeked out from behind the boys and Gretl from behind Louisa. Even Bastian, popping out from behind Liesl brought a smile to Georg's face.
They formed a line and one by one stepped up to say goodbye. Just seeing them in such a line; organised by something other than age and full of something that wasn't detachment made Georg's heart swell once more.
But when Marta; his shy, sweet seven year old was the first to bid the guests farewell everything became clearer, if that were possible. She would never have been able to do that before Maria entered their lives. None of them would.
That amazing, intriguing, effervescent, beautiful would-be nun had changed his world in more ways than he could fathom.
Friedrich followed, showing everyone just how grown up he was; and then Liesl, showing how grown up she wanted to be. He'd had no prior knowledge of what the performance would contain, but he wasn't going to let her stay or drink champagne. But he also couldn't help but smirk a little as his eldest daughter ascended the stairs.
Then it was the boys' turn. As Kurt and Bastian stepped forward as one Georg felt nothing but pride and a deep sense of satisfaction.
"I leave…" Kurt began.
"…and heave…." Bastian continued.
"…a sigh and…"
"…say goodbye."
"Goodbye!"
He silently snorted, amused, as his youngest son hit a ridiculous note before turning to climb the stairs.
He was accompanied by another boy. A boy who had hair and eyes as dark as Kurt's were fair. A boy he had grown to care about as his own.
In that moment, and every moment after, there was no difference between the two of them in his mind.
Brigitta and Louisa followed them; flitting and twirling around each other before hurrying away. But not before his middle daughter signalled to his youngest, almost reassuring her.
Left alone, Gretl shuffled her way up the stairs on her bottom, singing about needing to go to bed because the sun had done so, before lying down and feigning sleep until Liesl came and carried her off.
"So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye."
As the children walked along the mezzanine towards the door to their bedrooms, all the guests turned to follow them. After the final note had been sung, everyone waved up at them in turn.
"Goodbye."
First off, thank you all for waiting for this. I hope you enjoyed.
This chapter takes the tiniest bit of influence from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Love Never Dies. Bastian was actually semi-inspired by Gustave, so I wanted to put a little bit of LND in here; and there will be a little more in future chapters.
Also, a shout-out to the lovely ladies who provided opinions on Maria's dress.
