A/N: hope you enjoy this next chapter! Quick note, I don't know too much about Catholicism so please excuse me if get anything a bit off the mark!

Maria told herself that she wouldn't lie with Georg again until they were married in a few days time - it wasn't like they'd had much opportunity to be alone anyway - not with seven children in tow. She couldn't deny she'd been finding the lack of intimacy increasingly more difficult, especially now she knew exactly what love could be like between a man and a woman. Surely though, she had enough self control to wait the short time before they were finally wed. After their engagement, Georg had spoken to the local priest who they'd met at Sunday mass down in the village church, agreeing on a date for the ceremony - and the knowledge that they'd soon be joined in matrimony had given the entire family something to look forward to, a celebration of love and purity in a time of so much pain and confusion.

But as it was, she hadn't been able to stop herself from going to him after their stirring conversation underneath the willow tree. She hadn't meant to, it had been completely accidental. Lying awake staring at the ceiling for what felt like the millionth night in a row, she'd been unable to sleep, her mind reeling with memories of what it had been like to be pinned beneath him, encased by skin and muscle and man all those nights ago. And so, overwhelmed with frustrated lust, she'd made her way to the tiny bathroom in the early hours of the morning to splash some cool water on her face and calm her fast beating heart.

She'd had every intention of returning to her nest on the floor, of sticking to the stringent rules she'd set for herself, of resisting temptation. But she'd suddenly stumbled upon him in the tiny hallway on her way back to bed, and all reason had immediately slipped like grains of sand from her mind. They'd both stopped dead in their tracks on the landing, their eyes locking through the shadows in a dangerous stare that spoke of nothing but heat and needy desire. He'd been shirtless, leaving a hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach, the skin peppered with hair pulled tight across his muscular chest as his body stiffened with the telltale signs of his need. They'd said nothing, their breathing becoming more laboured as the silent anticipation had begun to build - a wordless understanding suddenly dawning between them that, entirely by accident, they'd managed to find themselves very much alone.

And that was all it had taken for them to lose all control, to suddenly close the short distance between them and throw themselves into each other's arms, the opportunity for uninterrupted intimacy far too delicious to ignore. Somewhere amidst the chaos of her thundering heartbeat and their ferocious mouths crashing together, she'd felt his solid arms lift her from the ground as her mutinous legs acted of their own accord and wrapped themselves around his waist. He'd shoved her up against the wall then, almost roughly, the dull thud of their bodies against the plaster apparently not enough to bring him back to his senses. He'd been ravenous, ragged, desperate as he'd pressed every inch of himself against her, licking at her mouth, tasting the rapid pulse at the base of her throat, and the urgency in his blackened eyes had left her almost unbearably aroused.

"Oh god, how I've ached for you," he'd growled, eliciting a violent shudder throughout her entire body - she'd suddenly been grateful that he had her pinned with his hips, for her knees would surely have buckled beneath her from the effect of his words. Inwardly, her conscience had screamed at her for going back on her promise to herself but the rebellious side of her had shouted over it, winning out on the premise that life was short, life was uncertain, and the unspeakable things he was doing to her body were too exquisite to ignore.

Logic entirely lost to the rapidly building tension in her body, she'd given a whimper and dug her fingernails into his bare shoulders as his mouth had descended on her breasts through the light material of her nightgown, the pull tugging all the way to her burning loins.

He'd growled again in frustration at the lack of skin to skin contact, and tried desperately to tug the material aside, "I want to taste you everywhere sweetheart.." He'd murmured, and again she'd found his words setting her alight. Who was she to refuse him? She'd given another whimper of approval and wordlessly he'd carried her to the tiny bedroom, locking the door behind them and laying her down on the covers, tearing her nightclothes down her body impatiently.

When they'd first laid together, Georg had worried he'd been too rough, too demanding, too primal in his urges as he'd lost himself to his need and ravished her completely. He'd chastised himself later for losing control, for being selfish with his wants and taking her as his only relief. But, much to his surprise, she hadn't been frightened, she hadn't shied away from his primitivity, and instead she'd proven herself to be his equal in every way. Not only had she been his anchor during a time of unspeakable turmoil, she'd responded ardently to his every physical need on that very first night, not because of some twisted sense of duty but because her needs, her desires, had matched his own.

And so, in light of her unrepressed passion, he'd vowed to hold nothing back from her in the way he expressed his love with his body. He'd spent too many days, too many weeks, too many months attempting to bury his feelings, attempting to swallow the anguish that shrouded his soul. It was utterly exhausting to lock it all away. He may not have been able to open up to her completely about the inner turmoil that sometimes threatened to engulf him but this, this burning need for the woman he loved, this primal desperation to be one with her, this overwhelming desire to express his love physically - this he would not suppress.

On this particular occasion however, he'd resigned himself to putting his own needs to one side, to give her what she so desperately craved. She'd been more than he could've hoped for when she'd come to him in the middle of the night all those days ago and he wanted to show her that love between a man and a woman, the needs shared between a man and woman, could take many different forms. And it was time that she was put first.

She'd watched, breathless, as he'd removed the remainder of his own clothes and climbed onto the bed at her feet. She'd held her arms out to him, expecting him to cover her body with his own - but instead she'd felt the scrape of his jaw against her inner thigh, the dizzying sensation of his hot breath on her skin, and his mouth was suddenly descending upon her, his hands anchoring her by the hips as he nudged her silken legs over his shoulders.

Repressing a strangled cry at the unexpected and almost unbearable sensation of his tongue against her, she'd suddenly known exactly what he'd meant when he'd said he wanted to taste her everywhere. It hadn't occurred to her that people even did this kind of thing, to kiss these particular parts of their lover's anatomy - but now that she'd experienced it, now that she'd felt his exquisitely soft tongue loving her there - she couldn't possibly imagine ever denying herself such a startling intimacy.

His kisses had been gentle, languid, loving, but insistent and she'd found herself writhing beneath him as his mouth had moved against her slowly, arching into his ministrations with reckless abandon. As the antagonising tension had begun to climb from the very place he'd been worshipping her and spread throughout the rest of her body, she'd noticed briefly that Georg seemed different this time - he'd been more tender, more delicate, more gentle, and she could tell that he was chiefly focusing on her pleasure, rather than his own desperate need for release. Where last time he'd taken her body as his own, this time he'd been adoring her with the deepest affection. And she'd found herself begging for the relief, pleading in strangled whispers for him to take the rhythm higher, her fingers twining into his hair and pulling him closer until finally the gentle flick of his tongue had sent her spiralling into the depths of euphoria.

Limp and panting, long minutes had passed before she'd pulled him up to meet her, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him close for comfort as she fought for air. She'd wrapped her legs around his waist obediently then, but he'd kissed her gently with his swollen mouth and refused her tempting invitation, despite the relentless ache in his lower body. Worrying that she'd done something wrong, she'd pulled back to look at him with a confused frown, her eyes filled with questions.

"The next time I love you, my darling," he'd explained, his voice low and husky as he stroked her face adoringly, "I want it to be as your husband."

Maria felt her cheeks grow hot with frustration as she attempted to finish the last few stitches of her new dress, the needle pricking her finger slightly as she made to pull the thread through the material. She made a sound of disapproval, an uncharacteristic profanity waiting on her lips in response to the pain - but she stopped the word just in time and bent back to her task, tutting in annoyance instead.

"My my, Fraulein," Georg's voice interrupted her reverie from the doorway. She spun around to find him leaning against the frame, a lazy smirk plastered across his face as his words dripped with mirth, "is it possible, or could I have just imagined it.. Was my ex-postulant fiancé about to curse?"

"You shouldn't be in here!" She chastised, using her lithe frame to block his view of the material she was working on, "you'll see my dress! It's bad luck!"

Georg raised his eyebrows, amused. Shortly after his proposal, he'd given her some money and insisted that she buy some new material for a wedding dress. It wouldn't be anything like a traditional wedding gown, their budget and time being limited, but she'd managed to find a gorgeous light cream material that she'd worked tirelessly on, to turn into a garment worthy of a humble bride.

"I think we've had enough bad luck to last us a lifetime," Georg scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest, "didn't you know it's also bad luck for me to see my bride on the day of the wedding?"

"Well hurry, get out of here!" She cried, scandalised, "go and watch the children like you're supposed to be doing!"

"Will you always be this bossy when we're married?" He teased, stepping closer.

"Shoo!" She exclaimed, sweeping her hands at him emphatically until he raised his arms in mock defeat.

"Okay okay, I'm going," he grinned, "I'll make myself scarce until I see you at the church, my love."

"You'll be lucky if I don't leave you waiting at the alter!" she teased, laughing at his expression of mock horror that was soon replaced by a crooked smile. He blew her a kiss before turning on his heels, but she called his name just before he left.

"Yes darling?" He spun back to face her.

"I can't wait," she beamed and he flashed her a devilish grin, the dimples in his cheeks leaving her breathless before he turned and left her to complete her important task.

Once the final stitching was in place, she fanned the finished dress out in front of her and studied her work. It was very simple, much like the blue chiffon dress she'd managed to salvage before fleeing, and a delicate bow adorned the middle, pulling the material in at the waist. She had no veil, no train, no bouquet, but as she slipped into the garment and stepped in front of the grimy mirror in the corner of the bedroom, she couldn't help but feel beautiful. She'd never been one for lavish things and 'beautiful' had certainly never been a word she'd used to describe herself very often, but she knew, as she studied her reflection, that Georg would find her breathtaking in all her simplicity.

She smiled to herself as warmth spread low in her body at the thought of him stood at the alter waiting for her later that day. How handsome and joyful he would look, even without his naval uniform, even without a best man by his side..

Her smile faded as her mind wandered to thoughts of Max, a constant reminder that life would never be what it was, that so much had already been lost to a war that had barely begun. She knew Georg would be thinking of his friend more so today than any other day, and she wished he would confide in her, she wished he would come to her and tell her of his sadness. But she knew he would keep it to himself - at least while they were celebrating their love for one another - he would do everything in his power to make the occasion perfect, a happy memory amidst the haze of solemn ones.

It felt like mere minutes that she'd been lost in her thoughts but it must've been far longer, for the children suddenly tore into the room in excitement, buzzing around her and fussing over their own appearances as they filled the room with chatter.

"Good Lord, is it time already?!" She cried in a panic, feeling entirely unprepared, "where's your father?"

"He's at the church, of course" Friedrich replied, scouring the room for a lost shoe, finding it in the corner and scrubbing at it with his shirt sleeve.

"We're to escort you there shortly," Kurt beamed proudly, attempting to flatten his hair in the nearby mirror.

Maria's heart swelled at the effort they were all making, the girls were styling their hair into beautiful plaits while the boys did their best to shine their shoes and straighten their shirts. They didn't have much to go on, having left the majority of their clothes back in Austria, but they scrubbed up well and she couldn't have been prouder to have them by her side.

"We made you something... Mother," Louisa edged forward shyly hiding something behind her back, her cheeks reddening at the use of the new endearment, but she soon grinned back when Maria fixed her with a loving smile, "we thought you might like to have it with you today."

She brought the gift out from behind her back and Maria felt a lump form in her throat at the simple, yet moving gesture. It was a homemade bouquet of wild flowers and Edelweiss that she guessed they'd picked from their favourite spot on the riverbank, and she couldn't think of anything more perfect to walk down the aisle with. Here they all stood, these seven little souls, with nothing to give her but their love, and yet they'd gone above and beyond to welcome her as their new mother. Their startling selflessness moved her to tears.

"Thank you my dears," she croaked, words failing her as their little faces beamed with pride.

It hadn't taken her long to get ready, Leisl having helped her into her dress before fussing with her hair until Maria had grown tired of the incessant pampering and politely told the girl that her crop was unlikely to hold any kind of style for longer than a minute. Leisl huffed in defeat but soon gushed in adoration as Maria stood and gently twirled in the finished dress.

"Oh my goodness, you look radiant!" The girl gasped, clapping her hands together with glee, "father is simply going to die when he sees you!"

"Well that would be slightly inconvenient," Maria quipped, slipping into her shoes and taking one final look in the mirror with a satisfied nod before picking up her bouquet and joining the rest of the children in the little hallway. Their heads snapped to attention as she moved from the room and the girls gave equal gasps of delight - even Louisa, who'd almost always resented having to wear a dress, flashed her a smile of approval.

Friedrich held out his arm to her adorably and Maria slipped her hand into it, allowing him to escort her down the stairs to the foyer with the other six in tow. Much to her surprise, the owners, who were busy behind the desk in the lobby, flashed her a celebratory grin and wished her every happiness as she passed. She'd felt herself go beetroot then - she'd thought the owners had assumed she and Georg were already husband and wife, what with sharing a family room for the last two weeks - but they made no indication of judgement or scorn as they waved her off through the doors and into the mellow heat of the summer afternoon.

It wasn't until they began making their way down the hill towards the little church that her heart truly began to pound, the significance of what was about to take place hitting her squarely in the chest for the first time since Georg's proposal. She was about to officially walk away from the only life she'd ever known, she was about to share her love with a man instead of giving herself entirely to God, she was about to take the first step down an uncertain new path with the complex, breathtaking individual who'd stolen her heart. She was a mountain girl, an orphan, a nobody, and now a refugee - but she was about to become a von Trapp, a baroness, and a mother all at once. And she realised, with a startling sense of peace, that she'd never been more sure of anything in her entire life.

Clutching her bouquet closer to her thundering heart, she spotted the priest waiting for them outside the church doors and he gave a wide smile as he moved to greet her. Bowing to his hand, she straightened and smoothed her dress as the children made their way into the church, Leisl turning and giving her shoulder a loving squeeze before disappearing behind the heavy doors. Only Friedrich remained, making no move to follow his brothers and sisters.

"Friedrich?" She questioned, puzzled.

"Yes mother?"

"Aren't you going inside?"

His boyish face set stubbornly and he stuck his chin out in proud defiance, "someone's got to give you away," he stated simply, but the hidden meaning behind his words suddenly struck her. It couldn't have been more fitting. After all, did she not belong to the children far before she ever belonged to Georg? Who better to give her away than one of the charges who were willing to share her love with their father.

Speechless, she clutched at his arm again, more to prevent her knees from buckling than anything else, and then she heard the burst of the little organ coming from inside and Friedrich was gently pulling her through the entranceway with a large grin plastered to his face.

And just as she thought her lungs couldn't possibly fail her any more, there was her groom, her Georg, standing at the alter and turning to face her with such devotion in his tearful eyes that it knocked the remaining breath out of her. He was wearing a beautiful suit she didn't recognise and she realised, with a rush of fierce tenderness as he gave her a knowing smile meant only for her, that he must've borrowed one, or hired one especially. It moved her deeply to know he would go to all the trouble even when times were so hard.

Georg von Trapp was a practical man. Even once a boisterous young governess had barrelled into his life and opened up his soul all those months ago, he still didn't much allow himself to wear his heart on his sleeve. But as he drank in the sight of his angelic bride, as though she were sent directly to him from heaven, he resigned himself to the fact that this woman would most likely see him shed far many more tears than he would've liked. Both for joy and for sorrow. But as she floated gracefully towards him, her beautiful face breaking into a smile that made him want to sink to his knees, it was the former that he felt springing to his eyes. Oh how he loved her. How he owed his life to her. He felt his chest entirely constrict at the thought of how he might've had to do all of this without her by his side. Surely life would've been too difficult to bear. She was a blessing he had never deserved.

Swallowing past the painful lump in his throat, he reached out a strong hand to her and gripped her dainty fingers tightly, as though afraid she were merely a mirage. Never taking his eyes from her face he was vaguely aware of the priest reciting their vows, and his mouth answered for him where it should, but he may as well have been rehearsing Shakespeare for all he knew. All he could hear was the pounding in his ears as he studied her delicate face in reverent awe. After all, he'd heard all these words before - it was only the woman by his side, whose fragile lips were confirming her lifelong commitment to him, that he felt he was suddenly seeing for the very first time.

Her eyes locked with his then, as the priest's words echoed around them and the adoration he saw in her gaze, the joy he found in her youthful face, it caused his fast-beating heart to kick into the next gear.

"If anyone should know of any lawful reason as to why these two cannot be joined in holy matrimony -"

Georg resisted the urge to sweep his fingers across her rosy lips, knowing he'd be allowed to kiss his new bride at any moment, the anticipation almost too much to bear. But before he'd had a chance to catch his breath, the doors of the church suddenly burst open and a voice cried something that made his blood run cold in his veins.

"I object!"

He froze, dread unfurling in his stomach as he watched Maria's beautiful face fall as if in slow motion, the obscene declaration reverberating off the stone walls and rattling around in his brain like jagged stones. The protective beast within him threatened to rise up and tear to shreds whoever had dared to interrupt his wedding day and wipe the breathtaking smile from his bride's innocent face. He spun round, entirely ready for battle, his face thundering with unrelenting rage - until he spotted the culprit at the end of the aisle and the entire world suddenly shifted under his feet, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him.

"Well... it's not a lawful reason," the offender quipped, tugging at his moustache cheekily and eyeing the gobsmacked faces of his audience as he attempted to catch his breath, "but she's definitely way too good for him!"

Georg simply forgot how to breathe. He was rooted to the spot, his mind hardly daring to believe what he was seeing. Surely it was entirely impossible. Surely his eyes were deceiving him.

"I thought you might be in need of a best man, my friend."

There was no mistaking that devilish grin...

Max.

A/N: not sure if that was entirely too predictable but I went with it anyway! We'll finally find out what happened to our cheeky chappy in the next chapter