AN: Thank you for all the reviews! I love them! I have to find time to start responding to them. I watched the movie last night and I tried to study body language and personality to improve my characterization. Okay, if you're not into slow burn, here's your last chance to leave…
Honestly, how could this relationship be anything but slow burn? There's absolutely no realistic way they'd get over something this huge so soon. I'm all for realism (except for when it comes to history and major world events), so I'm writing this like the actual intense and heartbreaking relationship it is. Also, I've changed the cover image to one that is both symbolic and ties in with the title of the story! The title, if you don't remember, is the name of a song from Bambi. An instrumental version of that song plays during the scene the cover image is from. I believe it to be symbolic as well. If you look closely, maybe you'll see how it ties in with the story… I'll elaborate in the next chapter.
Also, I wanted to clear something up that a guest reviewer mentioned. In chapter 4, I included a flashback scene that featured some naughty behavior on the Captain's end. Something to keep in mind: this scene took place just before my version of the gazebo scene, hence sexual tensions are HIGH. At that point, Elsa was merely a ruse for Georg. I see this scene as him testing the waters a bit. While he could have (and should have) walked away and told Maria to forget about it, it's safe to assume that at this point he had his sights completely focused on her. I think he knew that he needed to officially end things with Elsa and talk to Maria soon. With that in mind, I think he just kind of went with the "Screw it" mindset and messed around with Maria. While I intend to portray the Captain as intelligent and formidable, I believe he has a rakish side to him. From a plot/author point of view, I felt the story needed more of a build-up to the affair.
To make up for this gigantic author's note, I have written a very long chapter. Enjoy!
September 16, 1943
34 Aigen
Isn't it strange
How people can change
From strangers to friends
Friends into lovers
And strangers again?
After being rudely whisked away to their bedrooms by Liesl, the children gathered in her room. Brigitta summoned a piece of paper and a pen, and the children sat in a circle on the floor. The paper, lit only by lamplight, displayed each of the questions they had asked and their father's answers.
"Friedrich, what was Father's response to your question?" Brigitta asked.
"I believe he said that her name was Rose," Friedrich answered. Brigitta scratched the reply in and looked over the paper.
"Okay, so we can assume that Rose must be older, likely around Father's age," Brigitta stated matter-of-factly.
"But why?" Gretl questioned.
"Why would Father befriend someone as young or younger than Fräulein Maria? No, this has to be someone older whom Father was close with." The children nodded in understanding. "My question is, what does Rose have to do with Father's relationship with Fräulein Maria? I understand that they're mutual friends, but what did Fräulein Maria do that was so horrible?" Brigitta asked her siblings.
"Well Father said that Rose and Fräulein Maria were spending time together behind his back," Gretl offered.
"Yes, we understand that, but I'm sure Father understands that people can have more than one friend," Louisa said.
"Maybe Rose was saying bad things about Father to Fräulein Maria? Maybe Fräulein Maria argued with Father about it?" Marta offered. Brigitta nodded, writing down Marta's suggestion.
"Yes! Maybe Fräulein Maria truly believed these horrible things about Father, and that's why Father was so against them being friends," Brigitta exclaimed. "We have to find a way to find Rose. Father will likely refuse to tell us where he found Fräulein Maria, so that makes Rose our only option."
"Okay, so we have to think of places both Father and Fräulein Maria have in common. Some place they both could have met Rose at," Kurt spoke.
"Nonnberg Abbey!" Gretl said.
"Gretl, if that didn't work six years ago, it surely won't work now. Remember how they turned us away every single time? I'm honestly not too sure if the nuns even know where Fräulein Maria is," Liesl replied. "And we have yet to find where Fräulein Maria works. How did Father beat us to it? Where have we not yet looked?"
"I'm certain we scoured most of Getreidegasse," Brigitta replied. "However, there have been shops opening and closing recently. Maybe we should start our search over?" The children sighed in frustration.
"We've been looking for six years. This all feels hopeless!" Gretl howled.
"Wait… I know someone who could help, possibly."
September 17, 1943
Volksschule Pestalozzistraße
Hede had just lowered herself into her chair at the end of a very chaotic school day when her niece burst into the room.
"Brigitta! My word, you scared me! You didn't write or call to let me know you were coming."
"I decided just last night that I needed to see you!" Brigitta yanked a crumpled paper out of her pocket, and Hede eyed it suspiciously.
I pray this isn't another crumpled picture or drawing of Fräulein Maria. Do they have a shrine or something for her?!
Brigitta must have sensed her aunt's thoughts, because she quickly unfolded the paper and approached her.
"Okay, I have to tell you about what happened yesterday. Basically, Father bumped into Fräulein Maria and they spent the entire time arguing about a friend! We each asked him a question and I have all the information here. We are wondering if maybe you know her?" Brigitta snatched a random chair and sat on the other side of her aunt's desk. She held the paper out for Hede to take. Hede grabbed the paper, taking in the mess of scribbles and seemingly random circled sentences.
"Brigitta, I have absolutely no idea what I'm reading," she deadpanned.
"Oh, sorry. So the sentences on top are the questions we asked Father, and the sentences on the bottom are his answers. The sentences written all over the paper are just guesses as to who this mysterious friend might be. I think Gretl circled some sentences as well, sorry about that." Hede looked at the paper again before passing it back to Brigitta, very briefly reading through the six questions and their vague answers.
Typical Georg.
"I'm sorry, could you explain the situation to me again?" Hede asked.
"Certainly. Father bumped into Fräulein Maria yesterday. When he came home, he was so angry and upset that he passed out! He actually fell right out of the car, Aunt Hede! We asked what made him so angry, and he said that he fought with Fräulein Maria about a friend. We want to know if you can help us find this friend they argued about. She might be able to lead us to Fräulein Maria!" Hede nodded and looked back at the paper.
"Umm, what else did your father say about this friend? Sorry, he doesn't really discuss his friends with me."
"He didn't say much. He told us that her name is Rose. We're thinking that she must be around Father's age."
"I don't know of any Rose that your father…" Hede trailed off, a faraway look in her eyes. "Rose… Your father…"
Rose. Rosmarie. Someone both Maria and her brother happened to know. Oh God. Rosmarie's familiar features…
Hede stood, panic stricken. she attempted to disguise her shock by coughing and quickly ushering her niece out of the room.
"Oh goodness! I just remembered that I have a lot of work to catch up on. I promise that I'll think long and hard on this, Brigitta. The name does seem to be familiar. I'll let you know if anything changes." Brigitta – who was now sporting a bewildered expression – glanced back at her aunt as she made her way out the door.
"Are you sure you can't tell me anything now, Aunt Hede?" Hede quickly nodded, and Brigitta hesitantly turned and left. Suddenly, the entire situation made sense. Hede pieced together every last bit of information she had and came up with a plausible story of how her brother and Maria went their separate ways. It was simple, she deduced. Her brother had fallen for the governess. Due to his stubborn and rather difficult nature, he struggled with… disposing of Elsa and working things out with Maria. Likely, some sort of affair took place in the midst of the problem. It was either the affair or the discovery of an unexpected pregnancy that sent Maria running. Hede prematurely decided to side with Maria. Fuming, she grabbed a piece of paper and wrote to her brother. She wrote him a simple letter informing him that she would be visiting over the weekend. Only then would she divulge what she knew.
September 18, 1943
Salzburg, Austria
Maria very rarely found herself completely alone, and today was one of those days. Heidi had decided to spend the entire day out with Rosmarie, and so Maria was looking forward to some much-needed time alone. She threw on her comfiest slightly oversized jumper and settled on the settee with a new book she had yet to read. As she reached for the steaming cup of tea on the table beside her, she heard a knock on the door.
Too harsh to be Heidi's or Eva's…
She huffed, threw the book down, and called out, "Coming!" As she edged toward the door, she looked down to her bare feet and decided socks would be more appropriate. She ran to the clean laundry pile next to the couch, stopping when she realized that her only clean pair of casual socks had cartoonish flowers sewn all over them. Quickly, she prayed that there wouldn't be anyone too important at the door, and threw on the socks that were better suited for her five-year-old. She raced back to the door and nearly slipped as she fumbled for the doorknob. With a small twist, the door was open, revealing him.
The smile fell off her flushed face, and her shoulders sagged in disappointment. She could only imagine what he was thinking, what with her wearing a gigantic sweater and socks she had been practicing sewing on with her (their) daughter. With wide eyes, his impeccably dressed self eyed her up and down, and he was no doubt holding in a most obnoxious laugh.
"Erm, good afternoon, Fräulein. I was hoping to see Rosmarie today." Maria swallowed at the topic of their daughter. In an attempt to disguise her nerves, she opted for twirling her hair around her finger.
"Oh. She's spending the afternoon with her godmother. It's only been two days, Captain. I thought we were going to take this slow?" Georg's eyes narrowed, and Maria subconsciously took a step back.
"Fräulein, this is our daughter. I had nothing planned for today so I decided to stop by. Apparently spending time with your own flesh and blood is too much to ask."
"I'm sorry. I don't really know what I'm doing." Maria quickly and clumsily gestured for him to come in. She watched as he took in the aged surroundings curiously. Obviously, he could tell that the style of decor didn't adhere to her personality. "Ah, all three of us live together. Me, Rosmarie, and Heidi, her godmother." Georg nodded in response. Of course, he spotted his daughter's "artwork" all over the kitchen table. She followed him as he determinedly walked right into the messy kitchen. "Oh my, I apologize for the mess! She was doodling all morning long and I haven't had time to organize." She reached across the table, fumbling to collect the mess of papers. As she did so, she felt a hand wrap around her tiny wrist. She immediately stopped moving. Her eyes were glued to his fingers shackling her wrist.
"Don't. I want to see her work." Georg removed his hand from her wrist, and Maria watched as the pale imprint of his fingers slowly faded away. She looked up, watching him leaf through their daughter's drawings. Suddenly, he laughed; a deep and loud rumble of pure happiness. She cocked her head at the sound, and her silent inquiry was answered when he flipped around one of Rosmarie's drawings. "Just admiring the way she's drawn you here," he said. Rosmarie had drawn her mother as some sort of giant. She had given her mother a mop of extremely bright yellow hair and two gigantic blue eyes. Maria's stick figure form stood atop a poorly drawn boat. Rosmarie had drawn herself as a tiny stick figure next to her mother. Scribbled in the smudged blue wax representing the ocean were poorly drawn fish. At the other end of the ship was a barely discernible wheel with no stick figure manning it. This was not the first time Rosmarie had drawn ships floating aimlessly without a captain, and Maria unfortunately knew the meaning behind it. Georg narrowed his eyes in confusion at the dismayed look on Maria's face. "What is it?" he asked.
"There's nobody at the wheel," she replied. Georg looked from her to the paper, not seeming to understand the issue.
"It's alright, Maria. She's very young. You can't expect her to know everything. It's just a silly little drawing."
"No, no. Flip through the other drawings." Maria watched as he flipped through some of the other drawings. Suddenly, he had a very curious look on his face. He bent over, lining up their daughter's drawings on the table. Nearly every drawing depicted a captain-less boat with Maria and Rosmarie standing awkwardly on the opposite end of the boat. It was quite obvious that the positioning of the stick figures was done on purpose – there was a large empty space next to the wheel in every drawing.
"Huh," he mumbled.
"She doesn't draw a captain in any of her boat pictures."
"And why's that?" Maria smiled sadly before replying.
"I told her that her father loved boating and exploring the ocean." Maria looked to Georg, and he nodded for her to keep going. "Any time she draws a picture of us on a boat, she leaves the space for the captain empty. I once asked her about it, and she told me that none of her drawings were finished until she could finally add her father as the captain." Georg closed his eyes, a painful look growing on his face. He lowered himself to the kitchen chair, slamming his fist on the table as he did so.
"Jesus, Maria!" The force of his fist disrupted the air around them, causing an angry breeze to scatter the drawings all over the kitchen floor. Maria gasped at the curse, and quickly made to pick up the drawings off the floor. She bent to the floor, sliding the papers just beneath her fingernail to lift them. She glanced up at Georg and found him with his head in his hands. As she made her way around the kitchen collecting the drawings, she spared a few glances at the father of their child.
He looks absolutely broken.
The sight of Georg completely breaking down before her brought her down with him. She began to cry, the salty tears sliding down her cheeks and plopping to the drawings in her hands. As quietly and unobtrusively as she could, she placed the papers at the far end of the table. She stood awkwardly in the center of the room. Her form blocking the light from the window cast a shadow on Georg's slouched figure. She played with her hands for a moment, toying around with the options floating around in her mind.
Do I say something? Do I offer a small touch as a gesture to show I understand? Or do I simply continue to stand and watch?
Maria, no stranger to running away from serious problems, nearly decided to not do anything. Instead she took careful but direct steps toward him. She took in his trembling form, and carefully approached him from behind. The moment her soft hand landed on his shoulder, he tensed up and jumped. She yanked her hand away as if his crisp suit jacket had burnt it. To make matters worse, he scooted the chair further away from her. The wooden legs scraping against the floor – a wobbly B3, she noted – overtook the uncomfortable silence in the room.
"Don't touch me." Three simple words, yet they couldn't be spoken harsher. She took a step back, feeling the extreme anger and sadness reverberating off of the man. She nodded, mostly to herself, and wordlessly left the room. Crossing the doorway into the sitting room, she focused only on the sounds of the creaking floorboards beneath her feet. After settling on the settee, she briefly entertained the idea of reading her book. She knew she wouldn't be able to focus. She felt sick. She felt lost. She felt alone in the company of the man who gave her her favorite person on the planet. Her "thank you" to him for such a wonderful and miraculous gift was by way of running and hiding, as per usual. Her thoughts drifted to the other children, her daughter's siblings. Likely, all the children – save for Marta and Gretl – would truly understand or at least have an idea of what had happened between their father and governess. She felt disgusted imagining the looks of shock and horror on the faces of Liesl, Louisa, Brigitta, and the boys. Her tears, which had since politely subsided, came flooding back. With her head in her hands, she put herself in Georg's shoes.
Horrible. I am horrible.
Her self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted by Georg's footsteps. He cleared his throat, and she lifted her head, her reddened eyes meeting his. He took a deep breath before crossing the room and settling on the settee – albeit very far away from her.
"Maria – I am addressing you informally from now on, and I suggest you do so as well. This situation in and of itself warrants no honorifics." Maria's eyes anxiously flickered from his face to his long legs stretched out before her.
"I cannot help but wonder why you thought it right to hide our daughter from me, but I won't barrage you with questions yet. I cannot and will not forgive you for what you did. However, I think we need to be able to acknowledge what happened while not letting it distract us from parenting Rosmarie. What I mean is that we cannot behave like this in front of her. We have to find a way to put this behind us when we're with her. I'm hoping we can form some sort of acquaintance, and then I'll expect truthful answers from you."
Maria could do nothing except nod, for words escaped her from the emotion in Georg's voice. She had never heard him speak so vulnerably before. "Now, I want you to tell me about her. Anything and everything you can."
But Maria hesitated. A pause, and then–
"No," she spoke softly. "No," she spoke louder, affirming her previous response. She forced herself to look at him, even though the now raging anger in his eyes absolutely terrified her.
"No?" Furious, he stood. "Maria, we're running in circles! One moment you want me in her life and the next you're shutting me out! What do you want?!" Georg lashed out. Maria flinched at nearly every word he said. However, she stood her ground.
"Captain, please. I don't want to discuss her because I want you to learn about her by spending time with her. I want you to get to know her the same way I did."
The two sat in silence for a few moments. Georg contemplated Maria's words with a lowering expression. Maria sat back and anxiously chewed her cheeks. She was sure she looked an idiot, what with one leg bouncing and her mouth contorted as she bit at the inside of her cheeks. On top of that, her brain chose that very moment to remind her just how she was dressed. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to forget about those goddamn hand-made socks during a time like this. Fortunately for her, Georg cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her curiously.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Erm, okay."
Maria snuggled deeper into the couch and allowed the uncomfortable silence to drape around her like a blanket.
It's more of an itchy sweater than a blanket, however, she thought to herself.
It was indeed a very itchy and annoying sweater, this uncomfortable silence. It had quickly turned into a game, a battle over who would toughen up and speak first. However, neither opponent seemed worthy of the challenge. Georg – a born charismatic leader and natural strategist – now sat hunched over, his lips pursed in a tight line. Maria – infamous for fleeing like a spooked animal at the first sign of change or discomfort – also sat slightly hunched over with her index finger drumming chaotically against her leg. If their first conversation last week was a chess match in favor of Maria, this was a continually tied game of checkers. With each jump, no progress was made, and both sides continued to lose.
While Georg could handle being patient, Maria lacked that skill. Sitting and staring at the wall was not an activity she could handle doing for long periods of time. Her index finger was drumming away in an attempt to expel her pent up energy, something she no doubt picked up from Georg. She moved on from drumming her finger and instead decided on playing with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She snuck a glance at Georg and did a double take when she realized he was staring at her. Her face softened when she took in his features. He no longer looked angry, but rather exhausted and somewhat stressed. His blue eyes were dull, his forehead was marred with uneven lines, and his temples were significantly greyer than they'd been all those years ago.
It was Georg who spoke first. He spoke calmly, his question a proffered olive branch.
"How have you been?" Maria remembered the last time he had asked her a similar question. Stunned, she had answered stupidly. This time, she summoned the little courage she still had and answered.
"Fine."
There, she thought.
He instantly frowned at her lackluster answer.
"Maria. Honesty, remember?" Maria gulped.
"I am fine, Captain. I've settled quite nicely into work. Umm… I am a bit lonely during the week with Rosmarie at school now." At the lack of response, Maria continued to ramble. "And, umm… it has been a bit stressful lately. Heidi has family she constantly visits and I've been juggling my schedule around a lot to fit in work and Rosmarie. Soon I'll be working nearly every day. Umm…"
Maria belatedly realized that she had, once again, said too much. She debated not continuing, but when she looked at Georg, he was staring intensely at her and obviously waiting for her to continue.
"Okay, umm… Money has been a bit tight. Business at the shop has been worryingly slow. With winter coming, Heidi won't be able to sell flowers or vegetables. Umm… Oh! Of course, it's like this every year, but this year has been especially difficult." That familiar spark of anger was back in Georg's eyes, and Maria told herself that she needed to stop talking now. But, she never was good at listening to her conscience.
"And, umm… I have been making Rosmarie clothes but she's going through a stage where she won't stop growing, so her dresses don't last long before I need more material. Of course, material is not cheap, and–"
"Maria." She froze.
"Yes, Captain?" He closed his eyes in what Maria assumed was rage and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
"First-name basis, remember?"
"Umm… Ge-Ge-org," she mumbled. In a flash, his narrowed eyes were on her. He took a deep breath before launching his verbal assault.
"Maria, my daughter will not be living in poverty if she has no real reason to be."
"Excuse me?! I did not say that we're poverty-stricken. I merely suggested that–"
"Maria, it's quite obvious that you're struggling. Honestly, it hurts very much to know that you'd rather struggle than come to me for help." One look at her defeated face told him he'd hit the nail on the head.
"I want to help, remember? I will be picking her up from school from now on. I'll transfer some money to your account and–" Maria's eyes widened.
"Oh no, Captain! I cannot ask you to do that! Perhaps I'll pick up another job, or maybe I could–"
"Maria, you will do no such thing. I'll be picking our daughter up from school and contributing financially to her well-being. End of discussion."
As though she sensed the abrupt ending of the argument, the topic of discussion came barrelling through the front door with her godmother trailing behind. Georg and Maria whipped their heads around, the latter smiling brightly at her daughter.
"Mama!" Rosmarie screeched, completely ignoring the presence of both her godmother and Georg. Georg watched as she practically frolicked into the sitting room. Ignoring Maria's demand of "no more staring creepily at our daughter," he observed her, mesmerized by her every move. She was a skinny little thing, nothing like the chubby and stout form of five-year-old Gretl. She walked with a turnout, her small feet poised like a duck's. While her face was littered with freckles, the rest of her fair skin was clear. She wore a homely striped brown dress, surely something her mother had made. He watched as she leaned in close to speak softly with her mother, who was now kneeling on the floor.
"Ah, Captain von Trapp," Heidi spoke, rousing Georg from his thoughts. He stood and shook the older woman's outstretched hand. She looked gentle and kind, no doubt a welcoming presence Maria needed after running away. "I've been told you finally met Rosmarie on Thursday" Out of the corner of his eye, Georg watched as Rosmarie freed herself from her mother's grasp.
She notices everything.
In a manner that reminded him so much of Brigitta, she said, "Finally, Gotte?" Heidi's eyes flickered between Maria's anxious ones and Georg's saddened ones. The older woman's eyes widened for a moment before relaxing.
"Oh. Ah, yes, Schatzi. Your mother has been wanting to introduce you to her, um, friend, for a little while now." Maria breathed a sigh of relief and Georg nodded at Heidi's words.
"Erm, your mother was showing me some of your, um, drawings." Georg stuttered. He knew that everyone was staring at him, and he was absolutely mortified. He tugged on his ear as his slightly perturbed daughter looked to her mother.
"Those weren't finished, Mother! Frau Hede even agreed!"
"Frau Hede?" Georg questioned. The only Hede he knew was his sister, who also happened to be teaching art at a local school. Inwardly, he cursed himself for never asking more about her job or which school she taught at.
It could just be a coincidence, he assured himself.
"Frau Hede is my art teacher!" And then Rosmarie began to ramble all about art class and her favorite colors. While Georg found this incredibly adorable and very reminiscent of her mother, he was also visibly shaken at the prospect of his sister being her art teacher.
"Alright, alright. Let's not overwhelm him, alright darling?" Maria said from her position on the floor. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room once again. However, Heidi sensed that both Maria and Georg needed just a bit more time alone.
"Schatzi, come to the garden with me. I believe I need some help from my favorite little assistant." Rosmarie giggled and followed her godmother out the door without so much as a glance back at her mother and Georg.
"I'll be around to pick up Rosmarie around two on Monday."
And that was that.
When Hede barged into Georg's office later that day, he had managed to completely forget about her letter – the extremely vague letter that spoke of "catching up" and "seeing the children." She managed to catch him mid-sip of his tea, his widened eyes immediately on her form in the doorway. She was wearing a rather unique and loud dress, and she was panting as though she had run all the way there. The steaming cup of tea was forgotten when his usually upbeat and quirky sister silently and primly seated herself opposite him.
"Georg, umm… I'm not quite sure how to approach this. Uh, I'm wondering– I wanted to ask if–" Georg raised his hand, a gesture that instantly silenced his sister's nonsensical rambling.
"I gather that you did not come here to, ah, how did you say it? 'Catch up?'" His sister shook her head.
"I wish. However, I'm here to discuss more pressing matters. As you know, I am an art teacher. I happen to be teaching kindergarteners this year." Hede paused before continuing. "This year, I have a student who, uh, bears a striking resemblance to your former governess, and I'm wondering–"
"Stop. I know. You've come to tell me that I have an eighth child." Hede's hand clapped over her mouth.
"Oh my! It's true! Georg, how could you do this to your–"
"Before I tell you, I want to know how you know that she's mine."
"Very well. Brigitta has been visiting me. She showed me a picture of Maria that she carries around with her, and I instantly noticed the resemblance between her and my student. Yesterday she told me that you and Maria had reunited, and that you had an argument over someone named Rose. I put two and two together, and, well…" Hede trailed off, waiting for her brother's response. Georg stood. He took a few steps toward the open window behind his desk. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, and he rocked slightly on his feet. Hede sat, anxiously awaiting her brother's response.
"Let me assure you, I did not force her into my bed. Erm, I do believe we were overtaken by feelings we'd been denying. I told her that I was going to end my relationship with Elsa and, well, I think you can guess what happened next."
"Actually, no, Georg, I can't. I would never have guessed that you would lie with your children's governess." With a frustrated sigh, Hede stood. She shook her head. "No, I don't believe I ever saw this coming. The governess, Georg! A postulant!" she shouted. Her brother flinched.
"My God, you dashed the poor woman's hopes and dreams just because you couldn't keep it in your trousers. While what you both did was wildly inappropriate and ludicrous, your daughter is a lovely girl. Very intelligent, and– wait." Hede paused. "If you know, then why did she tell me that she lives with her mother and godmother?"
"I just found out. On Thursday, actually." Hede gasped.
"So she did hide Rosmarie from you… Whatever for?!"
"I assume she thought it would cause scandal and bring shame on the family name. I also think she was frightened, and she tends to run away when she's scared. Honestly, I'm trying to get over it for–"
"No. You are not going to get over it. I actually forbid you from getting over it. What she did was horrible, Georg! A sinful postulant… It should be criminal, actually. I wonder if that's illegal…" Hede trailed off. She lowered herself back into the seat, deep in thought. Georg finally turned from the window and watched his sister.
"Georg, I do hope you've stepped up. And after what Maria did, you should be with her all the time."
"Wonderful idea, sister. Let's have Maria and I spend even more time together after the tremendous argument we had in Mirabellgarten the other day. Splendid!"
"I'm not that dense, brother. Take Rosmarie out for the day, just the two of you. Take her horseback riding, bring her to the mountains, go swimming, have–"
"My five-year-old will not be horseback riding, Hede."
"Alright, but you get the gist. Look at you, a protective father again," Hede teased her brother. He rolled his eyes as she jabbed his arm. Once their laughter had subsided, the mood shifted back to a more serious nature.
"What about Maria?"
"What about her?"
"Are you trying to get along with her?"
"I suppose. Like I said, when I'm with Rosmarie, I'm trying to put what her mother did behind me." Georg paused, turning back to the window. "I loved her," he said softly. "We had quickly become close friends. Of course, Elsa did not approve, and I think that made it feel all the more special. I felt absolutely wicked flirtatiously bantering with Maria in the shadow of my betrothed. I knew it was wrong, but she was so alluring, Hede. Now I'm afraid I've gone and messed everything up – not that she hasn't, either."
"Tell me about her."
"What?"
"Just talk, Georg. I'm interested in this friendship you had."
August 1937
34 Aigen
Wandering the grounds in the very early morning light was Georg, his riding crop in his hand. He looked to the sky, surmising that it must be nearing sunrise. A cloudless night sky thrilled him, for the moon and stars were like a map he could follow with his eyes closed. He took careful steps toward the water, gently tapping his other hand with the crop as he walked. He had been having trouble sleeping, and it wasn't due to excitement about his upcoming nuptials. The snapping of a twig caught his attention, and when he spun around, the protagonist of said dreams was staring doe-eyed back at him. A slow smile grew on his face at the sight of her, the glow from the moon framing her like some sort of heaven-sent forest nymph. The way she was peering at him through her lashes was entirely too arousing, and the fact that she was in her robe meant that she too was struggling to sleep – Maria was never awake before the rest of the household.
"Trouble sleeping, Fräulein?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes, Captain." Her sleep-laden voice managed to maintain its melodic quality, and with a texture Georg likened to a delicious, smooth, and flowing river of melted chocolate. He must've been staring, for she threw him a curious smile before sidling up beside him.
Oh dear God, he thought.
She was entirely too close, and the smell of her shampoo hung in the air. He took a deep breath, happily welcoming the scent as if it were his lifeblood. The decadent floral smell tickled his nose in just the right way, and he found himself closing his eyes to savor it. Opening his eyes, he first noticed the riding crop in his hands.
Oh no.
Maria in the vicinity of his riding crop was dangerous, and the thoughts the scenario procured were even worse. His traitorous neurons fired, signaling his fingers to start twitching along like they were in the provocative scenarios in his mind. His thumb drummed along the handle of the crop to the quickening beat of his heart. He felt a soft touch on his arm, and he honestly thought he had stopped breathing. Very slowly, he looked at the intrusive sensation. His eyes widened at the sight of her slender hand on his wrist. She had obviously done it in an attempt to still his fingers, but the action made him want to twitch them even more.
Has she no idea what effect she has on men?!
Slowly, his eyes left her hand and landed on her face. Her beautiful, young face. Her vibrant blue eyes were searching his, and she smiled when he finally made eye contact. Feeling exceptionally brave, he grabbed her hand and linked it through his arm. She gasped, her breath visible in the chill of the late August morning. With a small smile, she gave his arm a light squeeze to let him know it was okay.
Georg smiled to himself at his companion's display of trust and affection. Slowly, they walked along the water's edge. Of course, neither cared that they were wading through the neatly manicured lawn in their slippers, for they were too content in each other's company. Their slippers made neat tracks in the grass, formed perfectly by crushed blades. The hem of Maria's robe just barely grazed the lawn, the cotton seams soaking up the dew there. Georg twirled his riding crop in his opposite hand, and Maria watched as it cast a spinning shadow atop the surface of the water. She hummed happily and softly to herself before removing her hand from his arm. Her companion frowned at the loss of contact. He stopped, watching as Maria seemed to float over to a large oak at the edge of the property. Ignoring all rules of propriety and the fact that the ground was damp, she sat down on the earth below and rested her head against the tree trunk.
With a quick nod, she beckoned him over. The moon had given way to the sun, its first golden rays highlighting her hair. With a smirk, he carelessly tossed the riding crop in the direction of the house and broke into a slow jog. He thought he was dreaming. He should have been, for this was not an appropriate interaction for an employer to be having with his governess. Finally, he stopped in front of the tree. She stared through her lashes at his towering form above her. He swallowed, watching her chest heave beneath the softness of her robe. Settling on the ground next to her, he felt at peace.
She was acting incredibly brazen, what with knowing he was engaged. He couldn't help but think that perhaps she hadn't any idea of what she was actually doing. She would flounce around without the slightest clue of what she was doing to him. He mimicked her position, and his head fell back against the roughened bark of the old tree. Her head lolled dangerously close to his, and he had to remind himself that he was playing with fire.
"Quite beautiful, isn't it?" she asked. She hummed to herself, fingering a few wet blades of grass between them. Her nimble fingers delicately stroked the grass and dew clung to her fair skin. He nodded, entranced by everything she was doing: the soothing hum of her voice, the angelic glow of her hair, and the curious sparkle in her eyes when an ant made its way across her hand.
"It seems you too have fallen in love with early mornings at the villa," he replied. She lifted her head from the wandering ant and threw him a tiny smile.
"Guilty as charged, Captain." He laughed, and she continued fondling the grass between them.
Touch her.
As soon as the idea popped into his head, his heart began to race. He felt like a child with his skin reddening and his heart racing at the idea of touching a girl. Yet this girl was a miraculous and wildly interesting woman. He found himself absolutely captivated by even the littlest things she did. Elsa's glorious and glittering ball gowns paled in comparison to watching Maria simply explore nature as though she herself were a part of it.
And so his hand began its slow and steady descent from his lap to the grass. He really tried to act nonchalant, but he could feel himself beginning to sweat the second his hand made contact with the ground. He swallowed, forcing himself to look at anything but what was happening next to him. His hand inched slowly over the grass, the wet blades slipping between his fingers. Suddenly, his hand bumped into something much less wet and pleasantly warm. He heard her sharp intake of breath, but her hand didn't budge. He looked down to his left, seeing their hands just barely touching. His large, strong hand next to her fragile, slender one was mesmerizing. He inched his hand a bit closer, and slowly covered her hand with his. She sighed when his hand fully enveloped her small one. Closing her eyes, she leaned back into the tree. The sight was almost too erotic for him to handle. Softly, he stroked the top of her hand with his thumb, pleased by the shy smile that appeared on her face.
"I'm glad we've managed to become friends, Captain."
"Me as well, Fräulein. We are going to miss you very much come fall." She turned to face him with a sad smile. The sun was slowly rising, and the light now perfectly illuminated her beautiful face. Her eyes glowed like flickering embers, her freckles standing in contrast against her porcelain skin. The near-black nighttime sky had given way first to an indigo, then an orange, and now a lovely shade of light blue – perfectly complementing those eyes.
"Ooh, Captain, look!" Abruptly, she stood and raced to the water's edge. With a finger pointed to the sky, she turned back to face him, a childlike expression of wondrous awe on her face. In response, he threw a genuine smile her way – dimples and all. Almost immediately, she turned back to the lake, her finger following the V formation of birds soaring above the lake.
While he missed her hand under his, he would be lying if he didn't say that he adored this side of Maria. She was precariously leaning over the edge of the lake, straining to watch the birds as they flew out of sight. Even after they had flown far past her field of view, her eyes remained trained to the sky. From his spot against the tree, he watched as she strolled aimlessly along the lake, her hands clasped behind her back. Georg sighed in contentment, watching the lovely woman who had taken his world by storm become one with nature.
And so, nearly every morning, Georg and Maria met just before the sun was set to rise. With each lingering glance and touch, they unknowingly fell deeper in love (Georg would call it "a close friendship," and Maria was none the wiser). Their short quips about mornings slowly turned into full-fledged conversations about life, the children, and each other. He had come to love her incessant chatter and innocence. And, like clockwork, Maria would race to the water's edge to watch the birds make their maiden voyage across the sky. The look of pure love and adoration on her face never failed to amuse him. Though he'd never admit it to anyone, he even started to like that ratty little robe she wore – so much so that he began to wonder what was under it.
AN: The opening set of lyrics are taken from Celeste's "Strange." I listened to both the original version and the Bridgerton cover of this song while writing the flashback.
One of my biggest reasons for Maria refusing to tell Georg about their daughter was to help me improve my own descriptive writing. I want to go with the "show don't tell" method, and by writing it this way, I've forced myself to expand my horizons a bit. I'm also trying to focus on subtlety in romance and cutting back a bit on dialogue. I'm hoping the flashback helped with not only that but further supported their relationship before the gazebo incident.
I think here we can start to see some conflicts arising, such as Georg needing to pick his daughter up from school. Surely his children will take notice. I promise, Georg and Maria will not be pissed at each other for the entire story. They need to heal, and that takes time.
Your reviews are greatly appreciated and super helpful! Thank you!
