AN: Thank you for all your reviews, it means a lot to me. Yesterday I lost a beloved family pet, so this chapter might be a bit scattered. It's also why this chapter is a bit shorter. Motivation is difficult to find right now. This chapter is going to be a collection of moments that will give better insight into our characters and their conflicts. Also, I've updated my author's note from chapter one. For now, only the first chapter will be using the Bambi reference. I might bring it back into the story later.

All quotes were taken from Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. They are italicized and in bold with no quotations, so they're not confused with conversations and actions that happened in the past.


September 6, 1943

34 Aigen

No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.

A singular photo left on the dinner table sent Georg's mind reeling. Fingering the slightly crumpled picture, his heart stopped. Maria. Young, bright blue eyes stared back at him, and her messy fringe elicited a smile. Georg was so absorbed in the photo that he didn't hear the light footsteps behind him.

"Father?" Brigitta called from behind her father. She peered over his shoulder. "Oh, that's my picture of Fräulein Maria. I came back down here to grab it." There was still no verbal response from her father, and she noted the faraway look in his eyes. "Father?" Georg finally snapped out of his trance, slowly turning to face his daughter. He cleared his throat before handing the photo over.

"Lovely picture," he mumbled.

"Do you miss her?"

"Of course, I think we all miss her."

"No, Father. I mean, do you really miss her?" Georg swallowed, not quite sure whether to be honest or untruthful with Brigitta.

"I will definitely miss the laughter and music she brought to this household." Brigitta rolled her eyes, unsatisfied with her father's answer. She hadn't initially believed Liesl when she repeated what their father had said, but her curiosity had been piqued. She took a seat next to him.

"Father, you can be truthful with me."

"What I said was true."

"Yes, but not the whole truth." Georg's fingers began to twitch, a nervous habit caught by Brigitta. "Father, we've all been looking for her. We've been looking in as many shops and squares as we can."

"Ah, so you've all taken to stalking your former governess now?" Georg smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. Brigitta laughed in return and gave her father a light whack on the arm.

"Father!" After a few silent moments, Brigitta spoke up again. "Really, Father. You can be honest with me. I think you forget that Liesl told us everything already." Georg sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He nodded in response.

"Well, if she's told you everything, then what is there left for me to say?"

"Father, I want to hear you say it. I don't want to hear about it from Liesl." Georg sighed before slowly standing, smoothing down the front of his shirt.

"My relationship with Fräulein Maria was quite complicated. My feelings towards her are of little consequence, seeing as she ran away from us years ago. Why do you continue searching the town for her? Are you not aware that nuns live a very cloistered life?" Brigitta frowned at her father.

"Father, I think you and I both know that Fräulein Maria was not suited for the life of a nun. Her letter and the nuns at the abbey said that she was dealing with familial issues. We know she grew up in the mountains, so if she's staying with family, she must be around here still."

"Ha, familial issues," Georg muttered under his breath. Brigitta quirked an eyebrow at this.

"Father, why did Fräulein Maria really leave the second time?"

There are many things in this world that a child must not ask about.

"You just said it, she was dealing with familial issues."

"Well it's obvious that you don't believe that, so I want to know why you think she ran away." Suddenly, Brigitta was standing as well, staring down her father.

"We had become quite comfortable around each other. I believe perhaps that may have frightened her."

"Father, why didn't you just tell her how you felt?"

"Are you forgetting that the Baroness was still here?"

"Why did you stay with the Baroness, Father?" Brigitta's question was eerily similar to the one Max had asked Georg, just nights after he and Maria made love.

"Georg, why didn't you just end things with Elsa before starting anything with Maria? Not that I approve of any of this, she was your children's governess, after all. But if you had to be with her, why did you have to make it so complicated and messy?"

"Brigitta, you have no idea how much pressure I was under. Everyone was expecting an engagement announcement from me and the Baroness, and she was quite difficult to reason with. She refused any attempts I made to have a serious discussion. Then, your Fräulein was back and I knew I couldn't have her running away again. While I was pursuing a friendship with her, the Baroness was on my back about wedding plans. It was all too much. I fear all of this must've sent Fräulein Maria running... again."

"Why would she run away if you were just friends, Father? It still doesn't make sense." Georg stiffened, knowing he was skirting around the truth.

"It doesn't make sense to me either, sweetheart. I think perhaps she felt as though she was interfering with my relationship with the Baroness." Brigitta didn't want to accept this as her father's final answer, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to give any more information. With a nod, she bid her father goodnight. She raced upstairs to pass along the little information she received to her brothers and sisters.


December 10, 1937

Nonnberg Abbey

It [the scarlet letter] had the effect of a spell, taking her out of the ordinary relations with humanity, and enclosing her in a sphere by herself.

Shame, humiliation, guilt.

Those were the constant and torturous feelings Maria felt. Not only had she failed in her vocation, but the living, breathing evidence of this would arrive in a few short months. She traipsed about the abbey grounds, her hands cradling her slightly rounded abdomen. The nuns, who once teased her for her inability to fit in with the others, now looked at her with displeasure and shame. Maria no longer wore her habit, and she lived in the guest house. If she wasn't considered the black sheep before, she certainly was now. She stuck out like a sore thumb – four months pregnant and wearing her usual brightly colored clothing, surrounded by stern women who dedicated their lives to God. To make matters worse, everyone knew she was pregnant with the child of Captain von Trapp. How could it be anyone else's child?

Maria hesitantly approached the group of nuns chatting in the courtyard. Sister Berthe, Sister Margaretta, and Sister Sophia abruptly ended their conversation, which was quite obviously about Maria. They eyed her curiously before Sister Margaretta began to speak.

"How are you feeling, Maria?" Sister Margaretta had always stuck up for Maria, and the little they had in common made Maria feel closer to her than any of the others.

"Just fine, Sister. Although, I have been craving a delicious sachertorte," Maria said. Sister Margaretta laughed, but Sister Berthe and Sister Sophia remained stoic.

"And how is the child?" Sister Berthe questioned. Maria's mood instantly shifted. Any direct mention of her child made her feel somewhat sick.

"Fine, I suppose. I've only got about five months left."

"You're nearly halfway there, Maria!" Sister Margaretta exclaimed, earning frowns from both Sister Sophia and Sister Berthe.

"Yes, well, have you decided what you are going to do? This child cannot be raised here. He or she will be the offspring of a knighted war hero, Maria. A child with such a social standing needs a proper home," Sister Berthe lectured. Sister Sophia stepped away, muttering something about praying.

"Yes, I have given some thought to my future. The Reverend Mother said that once the time comes, she can give me the name of a friend that I can stay with. I have a degree from university, so I should be able to find work." Maria took a breath before continuing. "This child is mine, social status means nothing to me, and the father is not in the picture, obviously."

"Maria, you can say his name. He cannot stay out of the child's life forever!"

"Maria, have you decided on any names?" Sister Margaretta provided a much-needed interruption, ignoring the glare from Sister Berthe.

"Ah, not yet, Sister Margaretta. I do love classic and nature-related names, if you want to help me brainstorm ideas."

"Oh, I would love to!"

And so, the next few months passed painfully slow. Maria's daily routine consisted of taking long walks, breathing exercises, eating healthily, and praying. As her pregnancy progressed, the chatter surrounding it worsened. In her final month of pregnancy, Maria was not allowed to roam about the abbey, and was confined to the guesthouse. She cried angry tears over being shut away from the little social life she had, but she also knew that she couldn't take much more of the gossip.

But this had been a sin of passion, not of principle, nor even purpose.


June 12, 1938

Nonnberg Abbey

It was a month after the birth of Rosmarie, and Maria continued to find it difficult to look at her baby without remembering the night she was conceived.

Like all other music, it breathed passion and pathos, and emotions high or tender, in a tongue native to the human heart, wherever educated.

Her beautiful baby girl, with striking azure eyes and fading dark hair, was a reminder of what Maria ran away from. One look in her daughter's eyes brought forth memories of the von Trapp children and their father. She shook those thoughts off as her daughter began to let out soft mewls.

"Yes, darling. I'm here." Maria cradled her daughter in her arms. She carried her to the bassinet, where she dressed her in baby clothes she had sewn herself. She carried her daughter out of the guest house and made her way to the courtyard. She walked there in the early mornings before the nuns awoke for mass. The sounds of birds chirping and the changing colors of the sky were soothing to Maria, and she wanted her daughter to appreciate it too. She settled on a bench in the courtyard, turning her daughter in her lap so they were facing each other. Rosmarie laughed as her mother threw her a goofy smile. She grabbed at her mother's shirt, signaling that she was ready for breakfast. Maria undid the top of shirt, settling her daughter against her breast. As she began feeding her daughter, she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. Sister Berthe. Maria steeled herself for another lecture, and bravely faced the older woman. As Sister Berthe came around the corner, she gave a disapproving glance to Rosmarie attached to her mother's breast.

"How much longer are you planning to stay?" Sister Berthe asked, taking a seat next to Maria.

"You seem eager for me to leave. I'll be staying for around another month or two," Maria responded.

Maria remained at the abbey until August. After she left, she never really heard from Sister Berthe again. Thank goodness.

She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.


September 10, 1943

Salzburg, Austria

In all her intercourse with society, however, there was nothing that made her feel as if she belonged to it...

As her daughter's first week of kindergarten was coming to an end, Maria spent some time at work reflecting. She had come to the conclusion that while she was free from the abbey, she was now stuck in a world she didn't belong in. In fact, she didn't feel like she belonged anywhere. She certainly did not feel suited for the role of a single mother in bustling Salzburg. At work, she usually found herself surrounded by beautiful and glamorous women that oozed the same confidence the Baroness did. She was incredibly grateful that the shop was empty, because the sight of glitz and glamor would probably make her feel worse. She looked down at her current dress, happy that her wardrobe had improved since leaving the abbey.

She let out a shuddering breath before gathering fabrics in her arms. Closing her eyes as she felt the tears beginning to well, her throat tightened. With trembling hands, she headed to the back room, tossing the fabrics across the nearest table. The room was hardly the size of a closet, containing just a few chairs and a table, all which seemed older than Maria herself. A dusty fan stood ominously in the corner. The walls, which were once white, had a tinge of yellow to them. The light hanging overhead held the corpses of unfortunate flies and other insects. Suddenly grateful to be at work alone, Maria began to cry. Usually she preferred a human presence, but her frantic thoughts were enough today. She stared blankly at the wall in front of her, her chest heaving. The breeze from the fan in the corner disturbed the fabrics on the table, sending them floating through the air. Maria was showered with strands of emerald chiffon and burgundy lace, with smatterings of violet and lapis here and there. With a frustrated huff, she swiped at her eyes and once again collected her materials. With the colors out of her vision, she was once again greeted by the sight of the ugly, yellowing wall. The situation seemed almost symbolic to her.

I was once in a glittering mansion, surrounded by children I'd come to love as my own. A single, unfortunate mistake took all of that and more away from me. A colorful and joyous life squandered by the dreary consequences of my actions.

Maria rarely swore, but right now felt as good a time as any.

"Shit," she cursed, angrily swiping at the fresh tears that were slowly rolling down her cheeks. The faint sound of the shop's bell broke through the blood pounding in her ears, drawing her out of her reverie. "Shit," Maria quietly swore again, her mouth betraying her. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing she would most definitely need to pray for forgiveness for her lack of filter. She nearly stumbled sitting up from the dingy chair, the world spinning as she found her footing. Checking to make sure she had all of her fabrics, she slowly turned the corner and headed back into the main room. "Shit!" She swore for a third time, this time at the customer responsible for triggering the shop's bell. The fabrics fell from her arms, landing on the floor with a slap. Her hand flew to her mouth. Said customer immediately looked up from the materials he was perusing, his eyes widening in shock at the sight in front of him. Six years of lost time stood between them, hovering in the air like an unwanted guest.

His hair was not nearly as neatly groomed as she remembered. A couple of stray curls fell across the top of his forehead, making him look younger.

That's where our daughter gets her curls from.

The top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing sparse, curly black hairs and tanned skin. Maria was completely unaware of the fact that she was openly checking him out until she heard him clear his throat. Her eyes instantly snapped up to his, and a knowing smirk formed on his face.

"Fräulein," He uttered, his voice a rich, deep velvet. It wasn't really a greeting, but a simple, singular word. He took in Maria's red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks, and frizzy french braid. She was wearing a simple and traditional frock, and combined with her hair, she looked incredibly young. So, not a nun after all, he thought.

Maria wasn't quite sure how long they stood there staring at each other – ten minutes or ten seconds? The air around her became suffocating and she decided on looking anywhere but at him and those eyes. The ugly walls, the tiled ceiling, and the glass windows at the front of the shop – which desperately needed to be cleaned – caught her attention. Her eyes completed a precarious circle around him, which was quite difficult considering he was right in front of her. Maria swallowed, knowing the ball was in her court. I have to say something!

"Umm... I-I dropped my things." Mortified couldn't even begin to describe how she felt in that moment. She could feel a deep blush spreading across her face. She winced, slowly bending down to gather the fabrics.

"I was not aware you worked here," he muttered, ignoring Maria's God-awful attempt at a response. "I was just here earlier this week peeking around. I did not see you."

"I-I'm not here every day, but I sew most of the clothes."

Stupid, stupid, stupid! What else would I be doing working here?

Maria chastised herself, a pained expression forming on her face.

"Left the abbey, did you?" His voice took on a more austere tone. Maria's fight or flight instinct immediately kicked in. The urge to sprint past him and out the door was strong, but she had already done that to him twice. A third time would be utterly humiliating, and so she chose to stand her ground.

"Yes, Captain."

"I see. Well, I was just looking for some fabric for a new dress for Gretl. I suppose I'm not the best at this sort of thing, I'll have to bring Liesl next time," he said. A soft "Oh" fell from Maria's lips, and then it was silent. Maria shifted from foot to foot, not quite sure where to go from there. Deciding the silence had become utterly deafening, she awkwardly and loudly blurted out –

"How are the children, Captain?" A grimace spread across her face as she realized just how loudly she had spoken. Georg's eyes widened for a moment before he quickly recovered from her sudden outburst.

"Fine," he responded. "None of them forgot about you, Fräulein. Brigitta just recently asked me about you."

"O-Oh?"

"You don't feel any remorse over your actions?" Georg abruptly changed the subject.

"My actions, Captain? I believe mine were justified." A wave of anger washed over Maria, and she straightened up a bit to appear more confident. Don't run away, don't run away, don't run away...

"Fräulein, I believe you're overlooking how willing you were to lay with me that night. You ran away twice!" Maria's face darkened as he spoke of their affair. Georg took a cautious step closer. She immediately jumped back, as if she accidentally touched a scorching pot or pan. "'Familial problems,' Fräulein?" he continued. "If I remember correctly from one of our many sessions in my study, you have no immediate family." Maria's resolve was crumbling fast. She knew from her severe problem with being outspoken that if the argument continued, she would end up blurting out information she didn't want him to know. She took a deep breath before continuing, wringing her hands as she spoke.

"Captain, I do not wish to talk about this right now. Please, drop it." Maria and Georg stood facing each other for what seemed like forever. Maria watched as Georg's fingers drummed lightly against his leg. She listened to the faint voices of her fellow Austrians outside the shop, waiting for him to speak. The weight of the argument felt heavy on her shoulders. Silence was not something she handled well, and with every passing moment her anxiety surged. At some point soon, she was going to explode: a volcano of deceit and secrets. As though they were playing an intense game of chess, Georg tipped over his figurative king, resigning from the game.

"I will see my way out. I am sure we will bump into each other again sometime soon, Fräulein." Georg offered a nod before turning and striding out the door. Maria remained stiff, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.

Be it sin or no, I hate the man!


Rosmarie grunted as she lifted herself onto the bay windowsill, knocking all of the cushions to the floor. She swung her legs over the top, pulling her knees to her chest. With her freckled face against the window, her breath fogged up the glass. She giggled as she lifted a finger to the cloudy glass.

"Schatzi, remember what we said about drawing on the window?" Rosmarie swung her head around, staring guiltily at her godmother. A small smirk grew on her face as she slowly lowered her finger.

"Sorry Gotte," Rosmarie mumbled a very unapologetic apology. Her godmother leaned closer, running her fingers through her hair.

"You have the most beautiful red highlights when you sit in the light like this, Schatzi." She combed her fingers through her goddaughter's loose curls, watching as the sunlight added scarlet to the caramel blonde strands. Rosmarie listened as her godmother began humming Edelweiss, the lullaby her mother frequently sang to her.

"Gotte, you're sharp!" Her godmother rolled her eyes.

"Between you and your mother, I can never catch a break around here!" Rosmarie, despite not knowing what it meant to "catch a break," laughed.

BANG!

The front door slammed open, causing both Rosmarie and Heidi to jump. In walked – no, stomped – Maria. She tossed her bag on the table, and without so much as a glance towards Heidi and her daughter, trudged off to her room. Heidi sighed, patting her goddaughter on the knee as she stood up.

"It appears that your mother had a bad day. I'll go talk to her. You stay put, Schatzi." Rosmarie nodded, watching her godmother cross the room. As soon as she heard her godmother shut her mother's bedroom door behind her, she leapt up from the windowsill. She slowly tiptoed to the other end of the sitting room and peered around the corner. Deciding it was safe to continue, she stopped just outside her mother's door, pressing an ear to the gap between the wall and the door.

"Oh Heidi, I was having a miserable day and he showed up!" Rosmarie inched a bit closer, straining to hear what her mother could possibly be so upset about.

"Maria, I know you don't want to hear it, but you need to introduce them to each other at some point. He is going to be beside himself when he finds out, and you're only worsening the situation..." The voices grew fainter as her mother and godmother walked to the other end of the room. Rosmarie scowled as she inched just a tiny bit closer.

"We only spoke for a moment and he had the gall to mention sex!" At her mother's outcry, Rosmarie blinked in confusion, still not understanding what was so upsetting.

"Maria, he hasn't seen you in years. I'm sure it was a shock seeing you again, and I think he just released some pent up anger. I'm not saying what he did was right, but you're digging yourself into a deeper hole." The voices trailed off for a moment, and all that could be heard was Maria sniffling.

"I regret it. I regret all of it," Maria stammered.

"Don't you dare say that. I won't believe it for a second. His family absolutely changed your life, and you changed theirs..." The voices cut out for a couple of minutes as Maria and Heidi entered the en-suite. "...An entire family that she doesn't know about? Maria, I know that you're afraid, but I think you're forgetting a very important lesson you learned from the Reverend Mother. You have to face your problems, not run away from them." Rosmarie slowly edged away from the door, feeling guilty for eavesdropping for as long as she did. She quietly walked back to the sitting room, hopping up on the windowsill.

"Maria, it is understandable to be afraid, but your daughter has a father and seven brothers and sisters that I'm sure she would love to meet. You've told me all about your childhood without your parents – do you wish the same for Rosmarie? Maybe not quite to that extent, but she's still without them. This could be your chance to make things right. From what you've told me, he hinted at seeing you again. I'm asking you to please keep Rosmarie in mind when you speak with him." Maria walked to the far end of her room, absently staring out the window. She heard the bedroom door open and close, and her head immediately fell to her hands.

From her spot on the windowsill, Rosmarie heard the door click open and instantly relaxed against the window. Heidi approached her slowly.

"Gotte, why was Mother so cross?" Heidi settled next to Rosmarie, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Nothing you need to worry about, Schatzi. Do you know what I think would help?"

"What?"

"Why don't you go give your mother a hug?" Rosmarie leapt off the sill and dashed into her mother's room.

"Wha–" Maria was nearly knocked over by the force of her daughter's body colliding with her own. Rosmarie wrapped her little arms around her mother as tight as she could, burying her head against her chest.

"I love you, Mother," she mumbled into her mother's dress. Fresh tears surfaced in Maria's eyes as she lowered herself to the floor, hugging her daughter back. Burying her face into Rosmarie's hair, she silently prayed not only for herself but for her daughter too. She prayed that she would find the strength to confront Georg. The guilt she felt from hiding her daughter from him was slowly consuming her. Seeing Georg today made her realize that logically, there was no way of avoiding him now. He knew where she worked, and his personality demanded he intensely pursue whatever he wanted. There was no use in hiding something that could not and should not be hidden.

Although she felt like she had no place in society, God's plan for her dictated that she take on the role of Rosmarie's mother. She willed herself to no longer view her daughter as a symbol of her sin, but rather a symbol of love and uniting family.


AN: Let me know what you think! This one took me forever, I apologize. Updates might be a bit sporadic, life is kicking my ass right now.

Note for me: six, not five years, fixed grammar, capital G in God-awful