Disclaimers: I do not own the Sound of Music and the title to this story is an adaption of one kindly suggested to me by "MaryAnne741". The characters that you all know so well are not my own either, but the new characters (as yet unnamed) are my own.
A/N: I am very sorry that this chapter took a long while to put up and that it is, frankly, a bit naff but I have JUST finished my exams (Yay! They're OVER!) and so have been extraordinarily busy. Another problem that holds me up is that I have been writing the chapters on paper before typing them up and I have just come to the conclusion that I will not do that anymore - it takes up far too much time.
Thank you very much to all of you for your reviews, it is a joy to receive them, especially as this is my first ever fanfic so I'm exceedingly nervous still. I am sorry "MarePopAndrews" and anyone else who doesn't like too much angst, but this story does not lighten up for a little while yet...as they say, things have to get worse before they can get better (again, thankyou for the reviews!). I worked out in my head a few days ago exactly where I want this story to go and there are a few twists ahead.
Staring at the spot where she had last seen the retreating form of Georg, Maria lifted the small flask to her lips and drank some of the beautiful contents gratefully, enjoying it's cool taste in her mouth and the sensation of it trickling down her dry throat. Lowering the bottle, she smiled and tousled her short strawberry-blonde hair with one hand, a habit she had established since having it cut to become a postulant. Still gazing at the street where Georg had disappeared and hoping that he was OK, she raised the water to her mouth again.
"Right!" A harsh voice suddenly boomed behind her and a heavy hand thumped down onto her shoulder. Spluttering the water in shock, she looked at the large, masculine hand clamping her shoulder as firmly as a metal vice and raised her eyeline to the arm, freezing in fear as she saw the blood-red armband, emblazoned with the swastika, against the grey sleeve and fully registered the gravity of what this meant...
...Spinning around and jumping, Maria reflexively spat out the mouthful of water. She watched, dismayed, as the water arched in slow motion through the air, light glinting joyously on the spray and she knew what was coming. It was inevitable. A second later - a second which had extended into eternity for Maria - the water hit the man squarely in the face.
Maria cringed as she watched the Nazi officer's expression. His face remained blank for a moment but as he fully registered what had happened, he looked her straight in the eyes.
Maria had seen this expression many times in the past, she knew it well...She had seen just such a look on the face of the Captain when she had first arrived at the villa (what seemed an age ago) and he had caught her prancing around his ballroom. The look in the officer's cold eyes matched those of the butler, franz, when she had mistaken him for Captain Von Trapp and shaken his hand enthusiastically in a most undignified and erratic manner. Reverend Mother's disgruntled face came to mind when Maria had once overslept and, in the rush to join the other nuns to breakfast, had unknowingly tugged one of her skirts on her head, mistaking it for her wimple.
Yes...she knew this mixture of disgruntled bafflement and distain well.
As the officer continued staring at her in irritated disbelief, the water dripping from the tip of his straight nose, Maria could not help but start laughing. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the uncontrollable giggles but it was no use, she had been in an awkward situation similar to this too many times in the past.
The man continued staring down at her in silence, not amused, and Maria's laughter died away, catching in her throat as her smile faltered. She quickly glanced at the children, they were all standing mutely by the wall, their eyes wide with fear. Kurt was shaking his head in disbelief - how could she be laughing?
Looking back at the Nazi soldier, she automatically stuck a nervous grin on her face.
"I am most terribly sorry." She spluttered. "You, erm, made me jump...somewhat."
The soldier whipped out a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and began mopping at his face, his lip curling in disgust. As he dabbed the last few droplets of water from his cheek, he said,
"What are you doing out here wandering the streets? You aren't local to this area, where are you from?"
'Oh dear.' She thought. She and Georg had not planned anything to say in a situation like this. It could not hurt to tell the soldier who they were, could it? The Nazis stationed here were not to know that the Captain was wanted in the navy or to be made an example of to other devoted and loyal Austrians... Or should she lie? The only problem was, she was naturally of an honest disposition (too honest, some would say) and so an unpractised and terrible liar.
Maria had to exercise all of her willpower not to wring her hands in desperation (a sign which would surely give her away as up to no good) as she circled the officer to stand by the children, a better position to watch the street where Georg had disappeared. The man now had his back safely to the adjoining road so he would not notice Captain Von Trapp returning and hopefully Maria would be able to warn her husband somehow before he reached his family.
"Well?" The soldier persisted impatiently, sweeping his stern gaze over the children who stood dumbly, wondering what their mother would do and say.
"We...arrived on the main road, naturally." She said, plastering another smile on her face. "We have already been stopped by the guards there and they let us through..." She tried to think of some way to completely allay the man's suspicions and so added, "So you have no need to question us. We have already been given the go-ahead to pass through the town." ...'Was that too obvious?'
He was not convinced. "Came by the road did you?" Maria nodded fervently. The corners of the Nazi's mouth turned up into a cold smirk as he said, "Is that so? Where, may I ask, is your car then?" Maria's mind raced. He had her there, she conceded, there was no way to explain the lack of a vehicle.
"Well..." She answered lamely. "How else do you suppose we managed to get here, other than by the one main road?"
She held her breath as he fixed her with his steely gaze, his grey, stormy eyes burning into her own. Surprisingly, the man seemed near convinced, (he lacked the imagination to think of any other route to the town), scratching his head uncertainly through his mat of silver hair. He was in his late fourties and Maria could tell that he was fooled by her youthful appearance, mistaking her look of innocence for pure honesty. Maria took the opportunity, during his pause of indecision, to break eye-contact quickly and flicked her eyes past the ageing officer's shoulder to glance at the street behind him - Georg was still out of sight.
The man's softening gaze froze and his eyes narrowed when he saw the young woman's electric blue eyes flicker nervously away from him, he knew instantly that she was being dishonest. He could see clearly that she had noticed his change in demeanour back to the cold, upright and harsh stance, when she raised her fine eyebrows and, lightly biting her lower lip, stared fearfully up at him. She was clenching her hands together by her waist, her knuckles white due to the tightness of her grip.
Maria felt chilling dread as his eyes rose slowly from her hands to look above her head. The man frowned as he looked over the top of Maria and saw the huge mountains behind her, cutting through the blue of the sky with their magnificent presence.
"Trying to cross the border, are we?" He smirked, finally taking in the torn and muddy bottom of her skirt and sweeping his eyes over the equally soiled and disarrayed garments of the children. "Escaping over the mountains, were we?" He asked, his icy eyes flashing maliciously. "From whom, I wonder?"
Maria tried to protest weakly but it was no use. She was sure that he had begun to believe her at one point, thought she had seen his original stony glare begin to dissolve and melt, thought she had seen him yielding and trusting her word...
As the soldier took a triumphant step back, retrieving a whistle from a side pocket, the seven children crowded around Maria. Liesl stood behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder, Louisa and Brigitta stood on either side of her and grabbed an arm each, Marta and Gretl hugged her waist, Gretl whimpering into her coat, and the two boys pressed up to the group as close as they could, trying to stand tall and defiant. The family faced the soldier and watched, helpless, as he gave one quick blow on his whistle.
Maria had once joked that she had first fallen in love with Georg when he had blown his "silly" whistle at her but if that was true, this had the opposite effect. Her very blood ran cold with horror as the tinny, shrill sound pierced through the still air.
A second soldier ran around the corner at the bottom of the street, coming up behind the members of the Von Trapp family (cuddled together for support) and jogged towards his comrade. As he reached the group, the second, younger, soldier snapped his heels together and swept a disinterested eye over Maria and the children before turning to the other man.
"I think we need to escort this young lady and her charges to the station for a little talk." The silver-haired officer said mildly and the other man gave a curt nod of his head. "I shall take the lead with the woman." He continued. "And you can follow on behind the children, making sure none of them escape or try anything rash." With that the man took Maria firmly by the elbow, forcing her into movement as he began marching forwards. The jerk to her arm caused the flask to fall from her hand and drop into the gutter, the last of the water dripping to the floor and trickling away between the cobbles of the road.
Maria stared behind her at the children to be sure that they were alright and noted absently that they had automatically lined up in age order and were marching in single-file, much like they had done in the years preceding her arrival, after their mother's death.
Gretl, at the back, looked as though she were about to cry but the young soldier walking at her heels laid a hand gently on her head. Noticing Maria staring apprehensively over her shoulder at him, he gave her a reassuring half-smile, before pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to the sniffling child. Maria relaxed a little, the young man meant no harm to the children and even seemed to care about their well-being.
Turning her eyes back to the direction in which they were walking, she wondered where Georg was and what he would do when he discovered that they were gone...
Georg grinned as he looked out over the plain of flat landscape before him. He had found the best route out of this blasted ghost of a town and had not come across any obstacles. Breathing out a final sigh as he turned back into the depths of the town, he nodded to himself. Yes...they were going to be fine, they could make it. Whether it was the family's faith, Mother Abbyss' prayers or simply blind luck, he did not know. 'A good helping of all three!' He thought to himself, elated by how promising the escape looked. There was still a nagging fear at the back of his mind, but Georg subdued the evil whispers of doubt, cackling in his ears, and tried with all his might to be hopeful, like his wife Maria. As the street where his family was waiting came into view, he smiled again and risked running the last few metres to reach them...
Turning amongst the weaving maze of streets, the line of people set course towards the station (Maria supposed it was where Georg had seen soldiers when they had arrived) and followed a path of roads that lead past the town centre, the wall of mountains the family had traversed flanking them continuously to their left. Maria looked up at the peaks, constantly visible above the rooftops, and marvelled at how high they were, the clouds hugging the rocks with their soft, spectral dampness. A lump came to her throat as she wistfully gazed at the lush greenery of nature, untouched by Man's destructive hand and she silently damned herself for letting her mind wander at such a grave time as this... but she could not help herself - the mountains held some claim over her heart and her soul, it owned a part of her that even Georg could not reach.
She guiltily pushed aside her reflections to look back again at the children. They were staring, ashen faced, around them, probably hunting for any sign of their hero Captain. The officer's grip on her arm tightened and he pulled her forward, she had obviously been lagging. As she was about to turn her concentration back to where she was walking, Liesl's eye caught hers and they shared a tentative smile. Each was trying to comfort the other, Maria felt she had some duty to ease the children's worries in what little way she could and Liesl was picturing how scary it must be, forcibly pinned to the side of a Nazi. Maria assumed that this was why the girl had tried to give a comforting smile but was really not particularly bothered by the officer's clasp on her arm; Yes the man had devoted his life to the Third Reich, but he was still merely a man.
As he reached the turning into the street, Georg knew instantly that something was wrong. He could not immediately see his family and knew that they would not have retreated back too far down the lane, Maria would have wanted to watch the road for when he returned. Sure enough, his fears were confirmed when he raced into the little cobbled street and found it completely empty.
An involuntary whine of worry gurgled at the back of his throat and before he could stop himself, he called out.
"Maria! Liesl! Frie - Children!...Maria?!" He paused, surely even if they were a couple of streets away they would have heard his voice and yet there was no reply. His throat grew tight as he began to panic, constricting the oxygen from reaching his lungs as he fought to breathe. His tongue grew dry and he knew that he must have been hyperventilating as his inflamed lungs began to burn.
Pausing to steady his breathing, timing the seconds as he sucked air in and slowly let it out, Georg managed to contain the wild, primal terror that had nearly engulfed him and once again studied the street through the prickling tears in his eyes. It was then that his eyes fell on the flask. He stepped towards it and felt his breath catch once again as he looked down at the small container, abandoned wretchedly in the gutter, water dripping every few seconds from it's open mouth. He knew then that something had happened...