Disclaimer: The Sound of Music belongs to 20th Century Fox. No infringement is intended. La Vie en Rose was written (I believe) by Edith Piaf. That song is wonderful, and it fit the mood of this perfectly.
Gratitude: to my awesome betas, Jelpy and Ilandra, who both really helped mold this into what I wanted all along: a character study with some, uh, kick.
Warning: this is a honeymoon fic, and it has some stuff going on in it. I've rated it "R" because it does go beyond what I've written in the past, but not too much.
Notes: This was written in response to both Jelpy and Ilandra's comments in their reviews of Streets of Salzburg, requesting a battle scars story. I hope I satisfied what they were looking for. I did some research on Capt. Von Trapp's military history, and used some of it here. Mainly, though, all of the explanations are all from my imagination. This is pure fluff, but with an element of seriousness to it. I hope you enjoy!
Battle Scars
The breeze sifted through the thin curtains, filling the warm room. Georg picked his head up from the pillow and looked out at the grey sky and sighed. Through the movement of the curtains, he could see the Eiffel Tower. The air was damp and unseasonably cool, but the chill didn't reach him. He was warm and content, totally relaxed in the comfort of his bed.
He nestled down further into the bed, letting the soothing voice of the French chanteuse coming from the radio soak over him. He closed his eyes in happiness, realizing that he hadn't felt such complete peace in years. Thoughts of the German movement and the unsettling reality that war was unavoidable seemed far from his mind as he stared at the ceiling, feeling nothing but a calm serenity fall upon him.
Perhaps it had to do with the fact that his Baroness was buried somewhere next to him.
As if she sensed his sudden thoughts of her, he felt Maria stir and he looked down as she woke and looked up into his eyes.
"Good morning, Maria," he whispered lowly to her, and she blushed as his hand traveled up her arm.
"Is it morning?" she asked, shifting closer to him.
"I was once told by a commander that whenever someone wakes is technically morning," he said.
She smiled. "That's not something I'd expect you to embrace, Captain," she commented.
He shrugged. "It's a good day to be lazy," he said.
"Lazy, huh?" she asked, yawning and stretching her legs. "If you've been lazy for the last few hours, I'd hate to see you active."
Georg laughed and reached down to kiss the top of her forehead. "Must be the company," he said.
She turned to look out the window, and disappointment crossed her face. "It's been overcast for three days. I had wanted a sunny day in Paris."
His traveling hand moved lower to her waist. "All the more reason to stay inside, my love," he whispered into her ear, watching as she reacted.
Giving a soft moan, Maria turned back to him and stared into his eyes. Wordlessly, she reached over and placed her hand on his chest, drawing small circles with her fingers. Quiet for a moment, she listened to the music filling the air.
"Who is that singing?" she asked.
He paused, listening. "Piaf, I believe," he answered.
"Do you know what she's saying?"
"Et lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie," he repeated to himself.
"Georg?"
He smiled and held her closer. "Forever yours," he murmured, and she brought her hand up to stroke his cheek, leaning over to kiss him.
The hand that had been resting on her waist slid down to her hip, and his other hand went to her other hip, pulling her upward. Moving along with him, she shifted so she rested atop him, deepening their embrace. His hands traveled up her back, and he felt her tremble beneath his fingers and moan into his mouth.
Parting for air, she grinned as she stared down at him, taking his face in her hands.
"Are you still sad that it's cloudy out, Baroness?" he asked her, staring up into her eyes.
"Let it rain," she said lowly, leaning back down to kiss him again. She felt her pulse quicken as his hands moved from her back to her waist and then lower, caressing her gently. As they parted, she buried her face in the space between his shoulder and neck and inhaled deeply; basking in a security and love she had never felt until she had met him. He whispered something else in French into her ear, and she clutched him tighter.
Raising her head for a moment, she stared at him.
"Vous êtes la plus belle femme que j'ai jamais vue," he said, his voice slightly filled with awe. "Je vous aime de tout mon coeur."
She knitted her eyebrows in confusion.
"Just say 'Moi aussi," he instructed.
Maria laughed. "I'm not sure I should agree to anything you just said," she said.
"Well, then let me show you," he said and pulled her closer to him.
Maria exhaled slowly as Georg brought his hands up to cup her face. He kissed her so fully, she felt all sense of reality escape from her. Time seemed to vanish, and the only things she was aware of were the taste of her husband's mouth as they deepened their embrace, the tingling sparks sent through her body as his hands roamed freely over it, and the sensation of how he was reacting to her pressing down on him. She relaxed as she lay on top of him, bringing her own hands slowly down his side, causing him to shudder at the touch.
Georg moved one hand to rest on her back, pressing her to him, and rested the opposite elbow on the bed. Pushing himself up, he rolled over, bringing his wife around with him so that he was now atop her. He felt her gasp in surprise at the sudden movement, and he moved his hands down her sides with deliberate slowness. She shifted towards him as he caressed her outer thighs, and a low groan escaped her throat as she clutched at his shoulders.
He pulled up for air and stared down into her face, noting how her breathing was heavier and that her eyes were glassing over with desire and need. Instead of granting her physical wish, he sat up, continuing to hold her gaze. He reached up to gently trace her lips.
"Georg?" she asked, her mouth widening a little with confusion.
He broke her intense stare and scanned down her body, his hand following his visual path. It stopped at her stomach, and he looked back up at her face again.
"Georg," she repeated, getting impatient. She sat up and took his face in her hands, and this time, it was he who was left breathless as she kissed him deeply. He laughed softly at his wife's raw aggression, and she silenced him by pushing him backwards. Once again, she lay atop him, on the opposite side of the bed this time, and she pinned his arms down and stared triumphantly at him.
"That was a very mean thing to do, Captain," she scolded, a twinkle in her eye.
"Oh, and what is the punishment for doing very mean things, Baroness?" he asked, charmed at the glow in Maria's cheeks.
She knitted her eyebrows in concentration. "I don't know," she mused as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. "I'm sure I'll think of something suitable to make you suffer."
"You can make me suffer all day, Maria," he said lowly, and she looked down to see him staring intensely at her. Her cheeks reddened, and she smiled at him.
Slowly moving her gaze down to his neck, Maria became absorbed in the texture of his skin. She heard him clear his throat in amusement as she studied his neck and shoulders. She stopped her visual track when she noticed a spot on his left shoulder that was lighter than the rest. Leaning in closer to investigate, she brought her hand up and traced the scar gently.
"I got that when the Léon Gambetta fought back," she heard him say. She looked up and saw him studying her as she studied him.
"The what?" she asked, confused.
"A French armored cruiser I sank in the war," he explained, the back of his fingers gently tracing the lines of her face. "A piece one of the beams blew off its hinges and slammed into me."
Her face paled slightly as she returned her gaze to the mark on his shoulder. "Does it still hurt?" she asked.
"Not really," he shrugged. He brought her face back up to meet his and he smiled at her. "All part of warfare."
She nodded and caught a slight glimmer in his eyes. "Are there any more 'parts of warfare' to be found on you, Captain?" she asked.
A slow smile crept over his face. "Maybe," he said, his voice an invitation.
Maria's eyes brightened at the sudden inspiration, and she returned her attention back to the scar on his shoulder. She traced it again with her fingers again before commencing her search. She slowly examined his arms, and stopped when she found a longer gash on his upper chest. She looked up at him, waiting for his explanation.
"Hand to hand combat when we boarded an Italian ship off the coast of Athens," he said.
Maria's eyes widened at the thought of her husband in physical combat, and she found the mental image to be rather engaging. She traced that scar too with her fingers before continuing. On his left arm, she inhaled a little when she saw the remnants of a nasty burn.
"How did you get this?" she asked, gently stroking the healed skin.
He looked over at it. "Oh, that," he murmured.
Maria's eyebrows rose in interest. "That?" she repeated.
"When I was a Lieutenant-Commander, we were engaged in an exchange of fire with a British cruiser before we were able to submerge. I was stationed at the deck gun, when there was an explosion as one of their torpedoes nearly hit our hull head on. We were all scattered around the deck like toys. I was knocked unconscious for a moment—"
Maria gasped, and he smiled at her, reaching up to stroke her cheek gently.
"When I came to, I heard my Captain order me below decks. I was on my way when I saw a sub-lieutenant trapped under one of the guns. He was badly burnt, but still alive because I could hear him…." Georg trailed, the voice haunting him for a moment.
"You don't have to tell me, Georg," Maria whispered, grabbing his hand which was caressing her cheek. She pressed it to her lips and stared at him, her eyes filled with compassion.
He shook his head. "I had to get him. There was no doubt in my mind. I heard the Captain shouting at me, but I went through the debris and grabbed the sailor. It's amazing what strength you have when you need it.
"Anyway, I must have gotten that burn sometime during that; I don't even know how it got there. The British kept firing; it seemed as if the ground kept coming out from under my feet. Somehow, we got below decks.
"The Captain had wanted to reprimand me, but he said that the paperwork he had filed about the incident was incinerated in battle."
Maria stared at him, fascinated.
"A very foolish thing to do, when I think about it," he said, meeting her gaze.
She shook her head. "Did the sub-lieutenant live?" she whispered.
Georg pursed his lips in thought. "I have no idea," he confessed. "I was transferred before I even got to learn his name."
"You're wonderful," she said, leaning down to kiss him.
He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. "I am now," he whispered into her ear and she hugged him tighter.
After a moment, she looked into his eyes. "Permission to continue, Captain?" she asked.
He nodded, and she exhaled lowly before journeying down his torso, slowly rubbing her hands along the muscles of his chest. He, too, let out a long, relaxed breath, thoroughly enjoying her sensual touches.
"Oh, my," she murmured as she saw a rather large gash under his left ribs. "How could I have missed…"
Georg gave a low, deep laugh and reached down to cup her face in his hands. "I believe you've been a little too pre-occupied to notice," he said and laughed deeper as she blushed.
Maria looked down at the mark on his torso and slowly ran her fingers along it, noting the different feel of the rougher, hardened skin compared to the smoothness of his stomach and chest.
"An Italian sub nearly got us," he started, "but we escaped and retaliated."
"You sunk it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded wordlessly, finding himself as fascinated with her reactions as she was with the exploration of his past. He loved watching her face as she studied his body, and he was very much aware of how he was responding to her gentle touches and soft caresses.
She ran her hand over the scar again, and she felt him shift up towards her hand. Looking up to meet his gaze, she smiled at him. "How, exactly, did you get it?"
He looked upwards, thinking. "We were rocked violently to our starboard side," he remembered. "I lost my balance and fell over a glass-covered consol that had been shattered."
Maria's mouth dropped open. She moved to hug him tightly to her.
"I never even thought about it," she said, reflecting on what he had been telling her. "I never thought about what had happened when you were at war."
He buried his face in her hair, a soothing sound coming out of his mouth as he rubbed his hands up and down her back.
"Well, what did you expect a sea captain to look like?" he whispered into her hair, and he heard her laugh.
Raising her head up to look him in the eyes, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You really are a fine, brave man."
"Who told you that?" he asked.
She cocked her head. "Oh, no," she said, starting to slink away from his embrace. "Now it's my turn to learn."
He raised his eyebrows in amusement as he watched her slowly slide down his body, pausing slightly at the scar under his ribs again. She stared at it for a moment, and he wondered if she would always find that particular mark a point of interest.
Maria inhaled deeply before looking up at her husband again. "Shall I continue, Captain?" she asked.
He nodded, a relaxed and baiting smile on his face. She pursed her lips for a moment before glancing down at his lower torso. She found no scars there, but kept her gaze fixed on him for a moment, moving her fingers side to side. She heard a low groan escape his throat, and she reveled at the thought that she could cause such a reaction in a man. She traced a deeper line across his lower stomach when suddenly, he grabbed her traveling hand. She looked up in surprise at the aggressive movement.
"Maria," he said, his voice low. "What are you doing?"
She grinned at him. "Turn about is fair play, Captain," she said and wiggled her hand free of his grasp. She laughed huskily, placed his hand to rest on his chest, and resumed her inspection.
Maria found a rounded scar on his right upper thigh. She moved her finger along the outline of it. He moved his leg closer to her and she looked up at him for his explanation.
"The first reminder that I am not infallible," he said.
"What?" she asked, smiling in confusion.
"When I was a cadet, I had the misfortune of having an outspoken tongue and a headstrong attitude… kind of like you," he laughed aloud as she slapped his leg playfully.
"Watch yourself," she said, their eyes meeting in bemusement. "You were saying, cadet?"
"As the Captain was saying," he corrected, and he watched as her face changed to captivation as she listened, "we were stationed off the coast of Moracco, and were granted permission to take some shore leave. Some comrades and I went into Casablanca, ready for a little, um, enjoyment—"
"Enjoyment?" Maria interrupted, raising her eyebrows. "You?"
He nodded wordlessly. "Do you think less of me?" he asked, reaching up to stroke her cheek.
She shook her head. "You don't seek enjoyment now, do you?"
"Only from you," he said, and they grinned at one another. He reached up to stroke her forearms as he continued.
"We found ourselves in one of the local bars. There was a group of rather inebriated Spanish sailors there, who saw us and immediately requested that we leave. Naturally, that was all the more reason for us to stay, and soon, the Spaniards started getting more vocal about their dislike of our presence there.
"One of my friends had gone up to the bar to get some drinks, and they cornered him. Rupert was smaller than the rest of us, so it was easy to single him out. They started to harass him, and we immediately went to defend him."
"Then the inevitable happened," Maria said.
He nodded, enjoying her insight. "Yes, the inevitable happened. I don't remember who threw the first punch, or much after that," he said, looking up at the ceiling and reliving the blurred memory. "All I can remember is ending up outside the bar, tossed out with the rest of the soldiers, both Spanish and my group. I was half tempted to offer the Spaniards a round at another bar, but they didn't seem to be as amused as I was. I stood up and walked over to them, laughing in good spirits. They took my laughter as mockery, and one of them stabbed a military knife into my leg."
Maria brought her hand up to her mouth, a look of unease settling over her face.
Georg smiled to himself. "I still have that knife. It was my first injury received in the Navy, and the least noble. When we returned to the ship, we were each sentenced to two days in the brig for abuse of shore leave activities."
Maria stared at him, mystified.
"Do you think less of me now, Maria?" he whispered.
Again, she shook her head. "You've lived such a life," she commented. "So many stories and so many memories."
"And many more to come, my love," he said gently to her, again stroking her cheek. She leaned into the caress and kissed the palm of his hand.
She looked down at the scar. "Why did he stab you in the leg?"
Georg knitted his eyebrows together, in thought. "He was on the ground," he said. "I think one of us had broken his ankle."
"Oh," Maria said, picturing the scene. She remained silent for a moment, thinking of the stories he had just told her and how amazed she was that a man of such a rich background had fallen in love with her and her simple life.
"Have you finished your quest, Baroness?" he asked, lowering his hand from her cheek to her shoulder. He gently massaged it, bringing her back to the moment. "I can't think of any more…"
"Oh, there's still one more," she whispered and slid back up his body, their eyes locking. When she lay flat on top of him, she reached up and stroked the tiny scar beneath his lower lip.
"I've been dying to know how you got that one," she murmured, her eyes suddenly lazy.
He offered a half smile. "You think you're going to learn everything in one setting?" he teased.
Her eyes instantly opened fully. "You owe me, Captain," she said. As she stared at him, her face softened. "Please?"
"I can deny you nothing, my love," he whispered to her, finding himself getting lost in her bright eyes. "Punishment from a power-crazed Admiral."
"Really?" Maria asked, her mouth dropping slightly.
"No," he amended with a smile. "When I was fourteen, I was smitten with a young lady named Odelia. We had decided to go on a picnic with some friends on the outskirts of town. After the lunch was over, we went for a walk to the top of some cliffs overlooking the Salzach. The wind picked up suddenly, and blew Odelia's hat clear off her head and into the river. Without thinking, I threw off my coat and was going to jump into the river after it. The ledge was rather high above the water, and we were near an unsteady part of the river: full of rapids and jagged rocks."
Maria's eyes widened.
"My friends instantly pulled me back away from the ledge and told me that I was crazy to even think of jumping into the river. I was rather adamant, but then Odelia came over to me, thanked me sweetly for being so gallant, and said that it wasn't worth risking my neck. She then kissed my cheek."
"So, did you jump in after the hat?" Maria asked.
A sheepish smile spread over Georg's face, and he shook his head. "No, I was so shocked by her forward gesture, I lost my balance and fell to the ground, smacking my chin on a rock."
Maria burst out laughing.
Joining her, Georg absently reached up and traced the mark on his chin. "It wasn't until I came to, a few minutes later, that I realized what had happened!"
Maria laughed harder, burying her face in his neck, and felt his arms warp around her back and hug her close to him. Her laughter faded away as she reveled in the peaceful sensation that suddenly overwhelmed her. She sighed and nuzzled deeper into his embrace. She looked up and they grinned at each other.
"And here you thought I got that by being all noble and brave," he said, tracing her jaw line.
"Well, I'm sure Odelia thought you were being noble and brave," Maria offered. After a beat she laughed again. "And stupid."
"And you love me all the more for it," he said.
"Oh, yes," Maria said, her voice lower as she kissed his cheek.
"Now do I get a chance?" he asked after a moment.
She knitted her eyebrows. "Chance?" she repeated, not understanding.
"You have some stories to tell, I'm sure," he said, reaching up to stroke her hair.
Maria shook her head. "Nothing as good as a bar room brawl with a bunch of drunken Spaniards."
Georg smiled and gently pushed her up so she was sitting on his stomach. He scanned her up and down, and he saw her cheeks redden at the scrutiny. "I know I saw something the other night."
She laughed. "Were you taking notes?" she asked.
He met her gaze. "I want to know every inch of you," he whispered, moving his gaze lower.
"There it is," he murmured, reaching up to touch a small mark above her left breast. She shivered at the touch and he saw a flash cross her eyes for a split second.
Surprised at the reaction, he quickly put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her down to him, rubbing her back in a comforting gesture.
"Maybe some other morning," he whispered into her ear.
Maria pulled back a little and stared into his eyes. "My uncle and I had a disagreement one night, and I went to the Abbey the following morning," she offered.
His eyes darkened for a moment and he frowned. Seeing the smile on her face, his frown drifted away. He reached down and caressed the offending mark.
Maria sighed. "It was the best thing I ever did," she said. "It brought me to you."
Georg placed his hands on her shoulders and hoisted himself up, pushing her gently backwards as he lowered them both to rest on the other side of the bed. Maria's head lay on the pillows, and he covered her protectively. He sat up, shifting so most of his weight was on his legs. Again, he caressed the mark on her chest. He looked up into her eyes, unable to voice what he needed to know.
"That's the only one," she answered his question. "Well, unless you count the scar on my elbow when I fell out of tree and broke my arm, or the nick on my right shoulder when I learned the hard way not to stand behind a horse."
She smiled up at him, but he did not return the gesture. Her breath quickened at the intense look she saw in his eyes as he glanced down to the mark on her chest again. "He didn't hit me," she said, not wanting him to get the wrong impression of her upbringing. "I just got in the way of a flying plate."
Still seeing that look in his eyes, she sighed and reached up to caress his cheek. "If you want to know, I started it," she offered.
He looked up at her and finally smiled. "Why does that not surprise me?"
Bending over, he ran his finger along the scar again, and he heard her sigh. He looked up and their eyes met, and Georg's breath caught in his throat.
"You're beautiful," he told her, and an intense emotion flooded her face. They stared at one another for a long moment. His hands traveled up and down her sides, and he heard her breath begin to quicken and felt her heart start to beat a little faster.
Georg looked back down at the scar on her chest, and saw it as a beginning rather than a mark of something horrible. Because of it, Maria had started on her path that eventually led her to him. That was something for which he would forever thank God. He leaned down to brush the scar with his lips, and he heard her inhale sharply at the warm touch.
The sound of her reaction stirred something within him. His face remained fixed above her breasts while his hands roamed down her torso, lightly tracing a path they had just begun to learn. Maria shifted towards him, and she reached up to clutch his shoulders.
He looked up and felt his own breath quicken as he saw the desire ignite her eyes. Slowly, he slid up her body, stopping to study the expression on her face.
"I would say we've suffered long enough," he whispered.
She took his face in her hands and brought him closer to her. "Moi aussi," she murmured before he closed the gap between them, kissing her deeply and putting their scarred pasts behind them as they moved towards their future.
Fin.