A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews so far. They encourage my fingers to type faster and give you speedy updates!
"Herr Norden sir," the waiter addressed the man at the table politely, as Georg set his face in stone, "your acquaintance has arrived."
Two pairs of eyes instantly looked up from the table to greet the new arrival, but the reactions of their owners couldn't have been more different. He smiled warmly, launching to his feet and grasping Georg's hand in an strong and enthusiastic shake. She, on the other hand, dropped her menu with a deafening thud against the table top, her face falling as the blood drained from her cheeks. Their eyes met for only a moment, before the tension became too thick for Georg to bear and he had to shift his gaze to the floor, to the tabletop, to the ceiling - anywhere but at her.
"Captain Von Trapp!" Norden greeted in broken German, still grasping Georg's hand while remaining entirely oblivious to the dangerous shift in the atmosphere, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance at long last!"
Georg forced a smile and kept his eyes fixed on the lieutenant for fear of what he might have to confront if he looked at the table's other occupant again. But nevertheless, he hadn't missed her sharp intake of breath, nor the fleeting panic in her expression when she'd first recognised him.
"The pleasure is all mine Lieutenant, I assure you," he replied gruffly, grappling a stronghold on his remaining composure.
"Come, come! Take a seat!" Norden gestured to the table as he settled back into his own chair, "your wife couldn't make it?"
"Er.. no," Georg replied awkwardly, acutely aware of Fraulein Maria stiffening like a board beside him. Whether it was due to his sudden proximity or the mention of Elsa, he couldn't be sure.
"I'm afraid she had another obligation she couldn't get out of. Apologies, I should've mentioned it."
"Ah, well not to worry!" Norden gave a wave of his hand, before turning to the fraulein, "I'm sure you'll forgive two naval men our tedious military talk over lunch, won't you Maria darling?"
Darling?
Fraulein Maria jumped like a startled lamb at being addressed and opened her mouth to speak, though no words came. The air of confidence that had surrounded her when Georg had first laid eyes on her was nowhere to be seen now, it seemed. Instead she looked like a lost child, much like Gretl after a nightmare. Or a thunderstorm.
"Oh forgive me, I haven't yet introduced you!" Norden exclaimed suddenly, reaching for the fraulein's hand across the table with a warm smile, as Georg squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, "Captain, this is my significant other, Maria Rainer. Maria, this is Captain Von Trapp - a navy acquaintance of mine."
So she had left the Sisters, Georg thought bitterly. That much was obvious by now. And yet.. she had fled the villa because she'd missed her life at the abbey too much? In all the moments that he'd second guessed himself since her departure, it had been that particular scrap of information - her need to serve God - that had allowed him to assign conviction to the decisions he'd made. With that small but extremely significant detail now entirely contradicted, everything he'd ever told himself about that fateful night was completely thrown into question. It'd had nothing to do with God - he knew that now. Perhaps he'd always known it, on some level. Deep down. And yet, he'd never quite allowed himself to believe it.
What fools they'd both been.
"It's a pleasure to meet you fraulein," he said somewhat coldly with a curt nod, his eyes fixed somewhere past her left shoulder. The bewilderment on her face was only fleeting, replaced quickly by shame as she lowered her gaze to the tablecloth and muttered her own unintelligible greeting. Before he could stop himself, he chanced a glance at her trembling hands, his stomach turning over and a puzzling lump forming in his throat. He could see no engagement ring... there was that at least.
"It's a rarity indeed when Maria is so quiet Captain!" Norden chuckled, reaching for the fraulein's hand again and patting it affectionately, "I dare say she's caught wind of your notorious reputation in these parts!"
Georg didn't miss the colour tingeing Fraulein Maria's cheeks as she shrank even further into herself. It seemed she hadn't told her beau about her summer spent at the Von Trapp villa. How much more had she omitted from her past, he wondered.
"My reputation is nought but glorified tales, I can assure you," he smiled meekly, but Norden only scoffed.
"You're Austria's greatest naval hero!" He declared triumphantly, "when I first met Maria and learned she was from Salzburg I regaled her with stories of naval legends and naturally your name was mentioned. I was surprised she didn't know more in fact, given that she hails from these parts! Still - when Maria agreed to show me the delights of Austria I just knew it made sense to finally make your acquaintance."
If they hadn't met in Salzburg just where in the hell had they met?
"You flatter me, lieutenant," Georg humoured, suddenly rather parched for a stiff drink and looking hopefully towards the bar.
"Ah!" Norden grinned, following Georg's eye line, "let me guess. A man like you must have a taste for scotch on the rocks? Or perhaps a whiskey?"
"A whiskey.. thank you. But I'll get it-"
"Nonsense Captain," Norden insisted, guiding Georg back down into his seat with a friendly hand on his shoulder, "I insisted on this luncheon and so I shall get the first round in! Maria darling, the usual?"
The usual? So she drank now too?
"Yes.. thank you," the fraulein replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Coming right up!" And then, much to Georg's dismay, before he could protest, Norden turned on his heel in the direction of the bar and was gone, leaving the two of them alone.
The silence left behind by his sudden departure was suffocating, crushing - and interminable seconds ticked by with neither of them able to lift their eyes from the tablecloth. Georg felt like the breath was being siphoned from his lungs. The only sound came from his impatient fingertips drumming awkwardly against the wood, until the tension became so excruciating that he just had to say something.
"So.." he stated, his mouth set in a thin line, "you look well."
"T-thank you.." she murmured quietly, before the thick silence fell upon the table again.
He watched for agonisingly long seconds as she twisted her hands in her lap fretfully, before she suddenly raised her head and blurted out in that endearingly earnest way he still remembered, "how are the children?"
The words tumbled from her lips with such urgency, such open sincerity, that he might've been fooled into thinking she still cared.
"They're getting along just fine, thank you."
"And.. and you?" She asked softly, her guileless eyes studying him with.. was it sadness? Whatever it was, he didn't think he could bear it.
"Magnificent," he retorted dryly, "Though a little surprised, I have to admit. I had no idea the noviciate had so thoroughly slackened its rules..." he hadn't quite intended to sound so harsh, so accusatory - but nevertheless his sarcasm was biting. So much so in fact, that her eyes widened in bewilderment, her cheeks burning darker in response to his barb - and when she finally spoke again her trembling voice was laced not with politeness but with pleading remorse.
"Captain, I-"
"Left the abbey?" he interrupted with mock gaiety and a nonchalant lift of the brow, "yes, I guessed as much," his eyes shifted and narrowed on Norden standing at the bar, before burning into her face once again, "Call it sailor's intuition..."
She bowed her head again, her distress evident - and he wondered for a moment whether she might burst into tears. He was behaving like a petulant child, he knew - she most likely didn't deserve his contempt. But he couldn't quite bring himself to have mercy. Not just yet. Not when he so desperately needed answers.
"Though I must confess to further confusion, if you'll pardon my ignorance," he continued when she didn't respond, his casual irony cutting, "if my memory serves me correctly, you left us in the dead of night because you couldn't bear to be parted from said abbey?"
"Captain.. please -"
"My question-" he cut in, "-and I'm sure you'll permit me such intrusiveness, fraulein - is why?"
"Why?" She breathed, her blue eyes glassy with unshed tears.
"Yes. Why." He repeated, all sarcasm suddenly stripped from his tone as his mask slipped, the words coming out on a strangled whisper, "the children.. they were... we all were... " he cursed in desperate frustration, his tapping fingers stilling their movements and closing into a fist on the table top, "Why in God's name did you leave if it wasn't because -"
"Here we are!" came Norden's jovial voice from somewhere behind them, "A whiskey on the rocks and a white wine spritzer!"
He plonked the drinks down on the table and raised an eyebrow in surprise when both of his lunch acquaintances grabbed hastily at their glasses, taking larger gulps than would normally be deemed appropriate in public. Shrugging in good-humour, he took a seat with his own glass of scotch and picked up a menu.
"What do you say to ordering some food Captain, and then we can discuss more important matters?"
Georg turned to the lieutenant, though he hardly registered a word that the man had uttered. Norden was handsome, he supposed begrudgingly as he studied him from across the table - with a head of thick dark hair and a square jaw, he was a man that some women might find appealing. He was tall. Sophisticated. Annoyingly young and infuriatingly charming. But apart from that, Georg couldn't see what all the fuss was about. Boring, he decided firmly. The lieutenant was boring. He would surely stifle such a unique and free-spirited-
"Captain?" Norden frowned.
"Yes.. right. Lunch." Georg agreed, hastily taking refuge behind a menu and trying to make sense of the words on the page. But when the food finally arrived some time later it tasted like ash in his mouth, and the rest of the luncheon passed in an agonising blur of small talk and naval discussion - none of which he remembered afterwards.
Fraulein Maria spoke only when spoken to and spent the majority of the time pushing untouched food around her plate, her face pale. Much to his chagrin, Georg's anger gradually gave way to melancholy with every glance he cast in her direction, and he eventually began to regret the way he'd spoken to her. What was she guilty of, after all, besides naivety and fear? With all his years of worldly experience, it ought to have been him who'd known better all those months ago. She hadn't deserved his disdain back then and she no more deserved it now - but shock and dismay had led him to behave badly. Norden's constant presence however, meant that he could find no opportunity to apologise, nor ask further questions. Instead he would have to settle for slowly being driven to madness by the tortured look in her eyes.
By the time he was finally free to take his leave, Georg was thoroughly dejected and altogether ashamed of himself. In fact, he could do little else than shake Norden's hand, nodding awkwardly in fraulein Maria's direction and hoping that his eyes at least were kind.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, fraulein," he murmured remorsefully, allowing his eyes to linger on her face for only a moment longer before turning on his heels and leaving the restaurant, the agony in her parting expression burned permanently into his memory.
Later that evening Georg locked himself in his study away from his wife and children, and drank more whiskey than he remembered drinking in a very long time. Inebriated and angry, he finally stumbled up to bed long after midnight to find Elsa awake and waiting for him. He said nothing, only observing her clumsily from the doorway as the room spun around him. She was adorned in her silk nightgown by the window, the material clinging to her figure like a second skin - and her blond coiffure was piled artificially high on top of her head, exposing the skin of her throat. The scent of her sickly perfume only served to further dull his senses.
"Georg..?" She questioned, a look of concern marring her brow.
But all he could see was blue eyes and golden hair. All he could hear was a sweet, familiar voice from times past caressing his name like a prayer. And the vision was so real, so raw, so consuming in his alcohol-addled mind - that uninhibited lust and longing sparked like lightning through his numbed veins, until he could take it no longer, and he was charging across the room, gathering his breathless wife into his arms.
A/N: please do let me know if you can bear more, or if I'm wasting my time! I don't know who I feel more sorry for in this chapter? Let's have a vote! Ha