A/N: This is NOT the last chapter. There is a note of finality to it near the end, as it is a new beginning for Maria and Georg, but the children still have much scheming to do :) I really hope you enjoy these *ahem* new developments.

Chapter Fifty-Three

A heart to love, and in that heart

Courage, to make love known

(The Tragedy of Macbeth Act 2 scene 3)

Maria scrubbed at her skin until it was red and sore. The children were bathed, dried, and tucked into bed, giving her time to literally scrape off the layers upon layers of mud, grass, leaves, and sticks. She was, for all practical purposes, a walking archaeological dig.

She almost regretted taking away the dirt and the grime that covered her entire body, because she was a little frightened of who she might find underneath it all.

Everything was changing.

That moment with the Captain in the garden, she had felt the entire earth slipping away from underneath her, and the world had gone black before her eyes, if only for an instant. And then she was back, and he was there staring at her with the same eyes she now dreamt about every night.

She came so close to telling him. She could taste the words they had been so close to emerging.

But she couldn't. She wasn't brave enough to risk losing her best friend.

Maria scrubbed her skin a little harder, trying to bring herself back into her own skin.

And then there was the matter with the telegram—the news she knew she had to share with Georg. The news that filled her with so many emotions that neither her mind nor her heart knew what to feel.

After the children had gone to sleep, she had considered running. Just for an instant the thought of getting away from those eyes, from the uncertainty, from the future and the desire was tempting.

But then Gretl had kissed her goodnight and Maria knew she could never leave these children. Could never leave the Captain after everything he had done for her.

Maria stepped out of the shower and wrapped the largest, fluffiest towel she had around herself. In almost a daze, she went to her closet and didn't even look at the dress that she picked, throwing it on the bed before she sat down beside it.

"Oh Lord please give me some guidance" she prayed, not knowing how she was going to go downstairs and face the Captain again that evening.

"Nothing happened, Maria" she spoke quietly to herself, trying to forget the flood of emotions that had overtaken her while out in the rain. "It was all in your head – after that telegram it's no wonder you were seeing imaginary crazy things."

The Reverend Mother's voice came back to her.

"Be open to experiences, confident in your abilities, recognizant of your worth and trusting in the Lord. And do not run from happiness – change is frightening, but can lead to great things."

Like the day when she left the abbey, Maria began to speak-sing as she dressed.

By the time she was dressed, she had sung through the first two verses of I Have Confidence and, as expected was feeling much better.

Taking a look in the mirror, Maria realized for the first time that she was wearing the same blue dress that the Captain had bought her for the ball. She thought about taking it off and putting on one of her own plainer selections but the cool smooth feeling of quality fabric on her skin was too appealing, the dress too beautiful to only be worn once.

It was time for the dress to be associated with new memories, whatever they might be.

Her mind was running as she descended the stairs, trying to put together phrases that could describe the words she had read and what they had meant to her.

Because how do you thank somebody for making the only dream you've carried your whole life come true?

It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves"

(The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Act I Scene II)

The Captain could hear Maria coming down the stairs before he saw her. He too had showered and changed after kissing the children goodnight, and was trying to focus himself by playing with a new phonograph the children had not thought to ask about using only hours before on their search for dancing music.

He had no idea what news to expect from Maria – what words he could say that would comfort her. After losing so much in her lifetime, the thought of her having possibly lost somebody else…it seemed impossible.

"Have you tired of my singing already, Captain?" Maria introduced her presence immediately as she entered.

"Never – but if you were singing we couldn't very well talk, could we?" he asked without turning around. Finally the music he had been struggling to play emerged clear as glass.

"Arabesque #1…Debussy" Maria sighed. It was one of her favourite songs.

"You know your classical pieces well…" the Captain trailed off as he saw Maria in the dress he had bought her, and his heart physically missed a beat. She wore no makeup and her hair was not done up, but for the third time that day her natural beauty emanated all around her. He wondered briefly to himself how many times a heart could leap in a period of 24 hours before it was considered an arrhythmia.

He made a mental note to postpone his annual physical.

"It was one of my father's favourites" she said, taking a seat on the couch where the Captain gestured.

They were both silent simply enjoying the music for several minutes.

At 2 minutes, 17 seconds into the song, the music began changed.

"Captain…why aren't you asking me what was in the telegram?"

"Why are you calling me 'Captain' again?" he responded, as confused as she.

"Because I am nervous about telling you what the letter said!" Maria responded with just a touch of anger. He didn't seem to understand how difficult this was for her!

"I didn't ask because I thought you would tell me when you were ready." The Captain responded, but then thought about what Maria had said, and suddenly his theory about the news didn't make any sense. "Wait, why are you so nervous?"

"Because of all the work you put in to make it a possibility!" she responded in confusion. She had been certain the Captain would have at least figured out whom the telegram was from.

"Wait, this is about your teaching degree?" the Captain could have laughed he was so thankful, but from the nervous look on Maria's face he bit his tongue.

"Of course, what did you think the telegram was about?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"I was worried that something had happened to one of your friends at the abbey – that the Reverend Mother had fallen ill or something!" he admitted.

And suddenly the tension in the room shifted as Maria realized how very different the news she could be sharing might have been. The Captain no longer felt the apprehension speaking to the young woman- the worst possible news would be that she would have to repeat the class during the fall semester and start her internship in January.

"No, Captain…Georg. I- I don't know how to tell you this. I…Oh Georg I passed with highest distinction!" Maria's eyes were filled with tears as she spoke the words she had been yearning to say all night but hadn't known how to express them.

The news took less than a second to sink in, and then Maria was in his arms as he spun her around the room until they were both laughing too hard to continue.

"Maria! Why didn't you tell me right away?" the Captain gasped, his arms still loosely around her waist.

"I didn't know how. I didn't want to seem like I was bragging, especially after everything you've done to make this possible for me…I mean, how can I possibly thank you for this… "

"Maria." The Captain placed two fingers under her chain, and forced her to look directly at him. "All I did was make a couple phone calls. This is your achievement – everything that has happened was because of you. You who took college classes while in high school. You who went behind your uncle's back to follow your dreams. You who wrote your final paper, which was supposed to take months, in less than a week. Be proud, Maria – you have accomplished something that many people who had all the support they could handle never could."

Maria's eyes were watering.

"Thank you, Georg. I have never been happier than I was when I opened that telegram. I- well there's no words to describe how I felt. I've been fighting with myself all evening trying to put it into words."

"There's no need…I think I have an idea." They were both speaking softly to each other.

The room became silent as the music changed from Debussy to Chopin – Waltz Op 64 No 2 specifically.

The Captain stood and held his hand out to her.

"We never got to finish our dance at the party."

For women's eyes this doctrine I derive:

They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;

They are the books, the arts, the academes,

That show, contain, and nourish all the world

(Love Labours Lost Act IV Scene III)

Maria stood and placed her hand into his, smiling as his fingers completely enveloped her own. He led her outside onto the terrace. The rain had stopped, and everything smelled new and fresh. Her eyes shone in the darkness with excitement as she stood in front of him.

As the first theme repeated for the second time, the Captain bowed and Maria curtseyed low, their eyes never leaving each other as they descended and ascended in sync with each other. Almost like magnetism their hands met and feet began to move in time with the music.

The initial theme repeated again as the Captain led them around the entire perimeter of the terrace, two pairs of blue sapphires never leaving each other, speaking words their voices could not explain. The second theme of the song began and Maria began to add her own twirls, delighted when the Captain kept up with her step-for-step.

In swirls of blue she twirled around the balcony, moving further away from the Captain only to wind up back in his arms. Their eyes laughed as they twirled about, not caring about form or technique, their voices lost to the magical world the music had created for them.

At each chromatic descent, Maria allowed herself to twirl back into him until her back was to his chest and one of his arms holding her tightly against him, only to be spun out again.

The music changed key and grew softer. The couple remained face-to-face, the Captain's arm holding Maria's slim frame closely to his body as he led her through a complex series of footsteps, many of which he was inventing on the spot. As if they were one person, Maria's feet followed his without assistance from her eyes. At the end of a crescendo Maria turned in place, her face inches from his. She could feel the warmth of his rapid breath on the bridge of her nose and the beating of his heart against her chest. They froze for a moment, she wrapped tightly in his strong arms and he breathing in her flowery scent.

The Captain noticed the small white flower that had been tucked behind her ear, partially hidden by hair. His eyes followed her neck, and he noticed something shiny on the end of a silver chain. His whistle. He took in a shuddering breathe in, trying to calm himself.

The main, more light-hearted, initial theme resumed and Maria and the Captain again began to move. They turns twirling and dancing with quick steps around one another, never more than an arm's reach away from each other, their gaze parting only for an instant during a turn before finding each other anew. Neither was laughing any longer.

A chromatic descent played and Maria, knowing the music by heart, spun as quickly and with as much grace as she could towards him, a grand finale. The Captain reciprocated, pulling her body so that the fronts of their bodies were touching, one of his arms encircling her waist and one of hers around the back of his neck. Their other hands were clasped tightly, finger woven together.

The last line of the song played as Maria and the Captain remained frozen, out of excuses to pull away from each other. This time there was no party, no children, no Elsa or Max, no twisted ankle. No sound could be heard besides their quickened breathing.

The phonograph quietly clicked off.

Eternity was in our lips and eyes,

Bliss in our brows bent

(Antony and Cleopatra, Act Scene III)

Maria watched a stream of questions play within the Captain's eyes – surprise changed to realization, astonishment and then nervousness. A spark ran down her spine and she felt her insides jerk when his eyes focused on hers, wary at first but growing confident. They were asked permission.

Maria's heart skipped a beat, and a rush traveled to her brain. Her eyes went out of focus except for the two orbs staring back at her. She could hear ringing in her ears, and her hand tightened around the Captain's neck as her knees weakened. She willed her head to nod, her voice to say yes, a smile to come to her lips…anything…but her body was frozen.

But the Captain could read her like she could him, and found his answer in her stare; in the same way she had known his question. His mind registered that there was no fear or reluctance in her eyes before it ceded control to his heart.

Maria could feel the Captain's arm around her waist tighten, pulling her upper body ever so slightly towards him. As though part of the dance, their hands simultaneously released each other, his travelling to her face to brush away non-existent hair from her eyes and hers to run a thumb along the ridge of his jaw.

Their eyes remained locked as the Captain slowly lowered his head towards hers. She could feel his warm breathe on her cheek as he paused momentarily, asking one last time. The hand Maria had behind his neck moved into his hair, her fingers entwining in the softness.

Maria's eyes closed at the feeling of his soft lips finally touching hers. Like a wave going through her body, her blood burned in her veins, and her fingertips and toes tingled as though they had been asleep. She was grateful for his arm around her waist, as she would have fallen to her knees without his support. Behind her closed eyelids she could see bursts of light, and the ringing in her ears intensified. The feeling of warmth that enveloped her intensified as she felt the Captain's hand move from her cheek to behind her head, pulling them closer together.

She molded her body and her lips to match his, unwilling to leave the smallest space between them. She could feel the heat radiating off his body as she matched her pressure with his.

In both an eternity and a second their lips parted, and their faces pulled away enough to look each other in the eye.

Maria stared at him with wide eyes, her fingers leaving his hair to touch her lips.

"Can this be happening to me?" she whispered behind her fingers, though loudly enough for the Captain to make out her words.

Without saying anything, Georg guided her head to his chest and rested his cheek on the top of her head. It was the hardest thing the decorated sea captain had ever done; everything he was, everything he felt, longed to reclaim her lips with his own yet he would not rush her.

Maria's eyes closed as she breathed in his scent, committing it to memory as her fingers rested on the strong muscles of his back. The world was quiet and still, yet everything was different and new.

They stood in the moonlight until a birdsong was heard.

They separated, blue eyes sparking with moonlight, again meeting in the night.

The Captain traced Maria's cheekbone with his fingers, wondering how he could have been so blind for so long.

Neither could bear the thought of the moment ending, but as all good things must, this time too had to come to an end. The birdsong again sounded.

"The lark" the Captain whispered to the woman he knew would appreciate the irony.

"Night's candles must be burnt out" Maria whispered back, shivering as Georg kissed her forehead.

The Captain's arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist, they made their way up the stairs and stopped in front of Maria's room.

Maria had no words to say as she turned to the Captain, her eyes wide with innocence.

"I could say good night til it be morrow" the Captain whispered, meaning every word of the misconstrued quote.

"A thousand times good night." Maria whispered back.

Her eyes closed and she felt Georg's warm lips brush against her cheek and then, hesitantly and softly against her lips. If she could chose one moment to last for an eternity, she prayed the world would stop then.

He stepped back and slowly dropped her hand that he had been holding.

There were no more words to be said that night – no language devised by man held the ability to convey what their looks, their touches, and their hearts could say.

Journeys end in lovers meeting

Every wise man's son doth know

(Twelfth Night, Act II Scene III)