A/N: as promised, the last and final chapter. I can't quite believe I've finally written it. It's quite a long one, and I'm not sure how happy I am with it - but I don't think I was ever going to be satisfied with having to write the final chapter! I really hope you enjoy it. I don't think it's possible to finish a story in a way that everyone will be happy with, but I've tried my best x
"I simply don't know what to make of all this, you know..." Maria muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.
Georg gave a curt nod in agreement, watching his wife absentmindedly while she busied herself with making tea, shuffling around the kitchen agitatedly as she gathered an array of cups and saucers and brought them to the table in front of them. The old kettle whistled impatiently atop the hob, penetrating the tense silence, but neither one of them seemed to notice. So many words were yet to be spoken and they hung in the air like a ghostly premonition, as though both parties were too stunned to possibly voice how they were feeling inside.
Nevertheless, Georg knew that his Maria was never quite lost for words.. and as if on cue-
"It just seems so.." she raised her hands and looked to the ceiling as if she would suddenly be able to conjure the words she was looking for out of thin air, "impossible.."
"Not impossible," Georg murmured, his glazed eyes fixed to the steaming kettle intently, with arms crossed rigidly over his chest and legs crossed at the ankle as he leant against the cupboards behind him, "just highly improbable."
She fixed him with a worrisome look but his eyes were still glued to the hob, his jaw set in frustration, and it was immediately evident to Maria that he was deep in thought. Brooding, as he was so often want to do, about what had come to pass.
"It just doesn't seem real.." she replied wistfully, almost cautiously, fearful that it might all turn out to be nothing more than a twisted dream.
When Georg made no reply - and barely even moved from his brooding position - she turned away from him with a heavy sigh and removed the kettle from the hob to fill the teacup. The action seemed to momentarily stir him from his trance, for he stood up straight with a shake of his head and pushed himself off the cupboards to help her serve the broth, intended solely for the purpose of calming five sets of broken nerves. How was it that a cup of steaming hot tea could lessen the tension in even the most harrowing of situations?
Not that Robert's return was a harrowing situation. If anything, it was the most miraculous turn of events Georg could ever have hoped for. Surely though, he surmised, surely it was too good to be true? He hadn't yet had a chance to ask Robert how it was physically possible that he'd returned to them - shaken, withered, exhausted - but otherwise alive. For when they'd discovered his haggard form emerging from the mist that had hovered over the house that very morning, Georg had been entirely stunned into silence. He had found himself frozen to the spot, completely unable to process what his eyes were seeing. He'd thought, in those moments, that he'd finally gone mad. Mad with grief, mad with anger, mad with despair. The whole world had stood still, the silence so deafening that Georg had heard his own heart pounding in his throat.
And it wasn't until his brood had suddenly burst into a series of joyous cries that cracked through the eeriness of the dawn, following their grandmother's lead and shoving their way into their grandfather's arms, that reality had truly sunk in. And the relief had hit him like a blow to the chest with such unrelenting force that he'd found himself sinking to his knees against the marble steps, fighting for oxygen as he went.
He'd hardly recognised himself as he'd crouched there in a heap - sobbing, praying, howling to the skies as if the world that only moments ago had been ending was now only just beginning. It had felt, in those moments, as if he'd been freed of a rope that had been tightening around his throat. And he'd shed his turmoil unashamedly right there on the steps of the earl's hedonistic getaway, allowing the floodgates of relief to burst through him and wash away his anguish. His darling Maria had rushed to his side almost instantly, soothing his cries with a gentle hand through his hair - and he'd been overwhelmed with gratitude, for he'd felt as though he didn't have the strength to breathe.
And before he'd known it, he'd been hauled to his feet by a determined Max, only to find that Robert was ascending the marble steps towards him, opening his frail arms like a father to a small, frightened boy. His eyes, though bloodshot and pained, had spoken of nothing but unwavering warmth, and Georg had flung his arms around his father in law with helpless abandon, entirely convinced that he deserved no such affection in return. But absolutely nothing else had mattered in those earth-changing moments. For Georg had realised he had his father back.
And that was all he'd seen of Robert before the frail shell of a man had been hurried into the house by a sobbing Margaret. Since then, they'd ushered the children into the drawing room with Max, alongside strict instructions to sit tight, while he and Maria had made their way to the kitchen to put the kettle on. It was more a means of passing the time than anything else. He knew that the elderly couple needed some privacy in order to digest the enormity of Robert's return, and so he had patiently left them alone in the study to talk.
But that was thirty minutes ago, and he couldn't deny that he was becoming restless with worry and guilt about what had come to pass since he'd left Hampshire that fateful day. He was beyond agitated, desperate to talk to his father in law and find out what he'd been through, to apologise a thousand times over for having left him, to beg for forgiveness if he had to. And he found he simply couldn't rest until he'd gotten these confounded things off his chest. Waiting was not something he'd ever been accustomed to and he'd taken to pacing the length of the kitchen repeatedly to distract himself from his worrisome thoughts. Just a few more minutes and they'd be able to make their way to the study, he reasoned with himself, just allow them a little bit more time..
"Georg, do stop pacing darling.." Maria chastised exasperatedly, "you're going to run yourself into the ground.."
He shot her a heated look that she was sure could only be described as a glare before he resumed his pacing again, worrying his lower lip between his fingers. She rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air before moving towards him and grabbing his shoulders to still his erratic movements. He tried to pull away from her, refusing to meet her eyes, but she tugged him towards her stubbornly with surprising strength.
"Georg.. Georg!" She coaxed firmly, grabbing his hands in hers and gripping them so hard that he eventually stilled, his saddened eyes meeting hers with obvious reluctance.
What she saw when their eyes met filled her with sadness. He looked pained, troubled, anxious, forlorn - despite his father in law's miraculous return - and it made her want to shake some sense into him.
"None of this is your fault," she whispered fiercely, her eyes burning into his with a desperate intensity. He was startled by her ability to read him so well but then again, she'd been able to read him like a book ever since she'd walked through his front door, carpet bag and all.
"- absolutely none of it! Do you hear me?"
He hesitated, his entire body rigid as the worry lines creased his forehead. How long would he insist on bearing the burden of what his family had been through? she wondered.
"Georg!" She insisted again with a sound bordering on a growl when he didn't respond, "Do you hear me?!" She shook his hands in hers as though trying to rouse him from his despair, her eyes alight with passionate determination, "Robert is alive, he's returned to us. It's a blessing and a miracle! Please don't tarnish it with unfounded guilt. I won't let it eat away at you like this! I won't! I can't-"
She'd worked herself up into quite a frenzy, her voice becoming increasingly more shrill in her anguish as she gave a broken sob and gripped at his forearms for support, losing the fight. And that was when he realised that his strong, resilient, brave Maria was every bit as disturbed, every bit as shaken, by Robert's withered appearance as he was. She needed answers too, it seemed. How often, Georg wondered, had his wife masked the depths of her own inner turmoil in order to protect him from his own grief? In order to put his need for solace above her own need for reassurance? She was quite simply extraordinary. Selfless, wilful, more courageous than he'd ever been. His Fraulein.
The tables had turned then and suddenly he was the one gathering her into his arms, hushing her worries in between gentle kisses that he pressed to her lips in a demonstration of comfort and adoration. She molded against him in relief, accepting the comfort he offered her through his languid caresses. They stood there for a moment, embracing in the solitude of the surrounding silence and pressing reassuring kisses to one another's skin, neither of them finding the words that ought to be uttered. Until, quite without warning, the atmosphere began to thicken with a newfound heat..
Within moments their kisses grew progressively more frequent, progressively more intimate, progressively more insistent - until she was suddenly throwing her arms around his neck with a moan of relief and fisting her hands into his hair. It happened so quickly that he wasn't sure who'd initiated it, but he found he couldn't care less as she melted her body against his and drove their entwined forms backwards until his spine made contact with the cupboards behind him.
The flicker of desire that had simmered in his gut abruptly roared to life with a vengeance. Much to his bewilderment and delight, it seemed that his wife couldn't get at him fast enough, for she was suddenly climbing him like one of her infamous trees, scrambling to get as close to him as their bodies would allow. And he couldn't deny that he absolutely revelled in her urgency, welcoming her advances like a starved man finally being fed. Losing himself momentarily, he gripped at her waist a little too hard and groaned against her tongue amidst their feverish kisses.
There was such a myriad of emotions flowing through his body - joy, relief, anxiety, fear, guilt - that it felt entirely wonderful to simply let go for a few moments, with his wife trembling in his arms. The uncertainty of what lay beyond the kitchen door could wait, he thought, as he grazed his thumbs over Maria's nipples through the silk of her blouse, feeling the pull all the way to his groin. The unknown would still be waiting for them on the other side when they finally emerged.. a few more minutes of stolen caresses wouldn't hurt anyone..
But it seemed that life beyond the kitchen door couldn't wait after all, for Max suddenly burst through the entranceway without so much as a single knock, causing Georg to catapult Maria across the room in his efforts to shove some appropriate distance between them.
She gave a startled cry as she stumbled over her own feet, fixing him with a fiery glare to which he could only respond with an apologetic grin and a bashful shrug of his shoulders.
"Oh.. my apologies!" Max smirked as Georg hastily grabbed the flowery teapot off the table to strategically place.
"I just thought the tea might be getting cold.. " the impresario explained, "but it looks like you're keeping it rather warm yourself there, Georg."
All eyes fell to the teapot that Georg was awkwardly clutching in front of his trousers and Maria stifled a giggle as she watched the blush reach all the way to her captain's ears. It seemed that more steam was coming off his cheeks than out of the teapot itself!
"Yes.." Maria agreed, biting her lip to keep from laughing, "perhaps it's time we checked in on Margaret and Robert?"
"Indeed," Georg grimaced through clenched teeth, giving up the fight and putting the teapot down with an aggravated thud. Why was it that he could always count on his best friend to both lighten the mood, and simultaneously kill it in the same breath?
Dread. That's what was eating away at Georg's insides as he knocked gently against the study door and gripped the handle a little too hard when given permission to enter. Of course he was overwhelmed with joy and relief that his father in law had returned, he could hardly be ungrateful to God for such a turn of events - but it was a melancholy sort of relief, a relief wrought with anxiety. For now he would have to listen to what his elderly confidante had been forced to experience. He would have to listen and take full responsibility for it - whether Robert insisted otherwise or not. He would have to listen and be reminded that he'd done the exact same thing to Max all those months ago when the impresario had pressed the keys to Franz's truck into his palm and insisted that he flee without him. He had abandoned them both and he would never forgive himself.
As though she were able to read his dangerous thoughts, Maria placed a warm hand on his outstretched arm, willing him to understand that he needed to leave such guilt at the door. Giving pause for a moment, he sent a grave smile her way, before the three of them made their way into the room.
"Tea lady, at your service," Max quipped with a roll of his eyes as he set the tea tray down atop the desk, behind which sat an exhausted Robert.
"Not got anything stronger have you?" The baron grunted with difficulty as Margaret gave a disapproving cluck of her tongue. He was slumped defeatedly in the plush leather chair, his breathing shallow and his head thrown back against the dark ridge of the seat. The baroness was sat by his side, clutching his hand so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Not once did she look up from her position, not once did she look away from her husband's face, not once did she so much as stir - it was as though she was terrified that if she tore her eyes away from him he would suddenly disappear.
"Maria.. Georg, my boy.." Robert rasped, a warm smile spreading across his face despite his evident fatigue, "come.. take a seat," he raised a withered hand and beckoned them closer, "Though you should leave your self-condemnation at the door, my friend. You ought to know by now that I won't stand for it.. "
Georg's eyebrows shot up into his hairline in surprise. It seemed his wife wasn't the only one who could read him like a book, for Robert was suddenly scrutinising him with the same knowing look as when he'd reprimanded him for his guilt over Agathe's passing. The baron knew, it seemed, without any need for explanation, that Georg would blame himself for what had happened.
"Self-pity is a wasted business.." Robert muttered to himself more than to anyone else, while his audience settled into various seats around him. If it wasn't for the gravity of the situation, it would almost appear comical, as though they were children gathering around to hear a bedtime story - but Georg knew this particular anecdote would be no fairytale.
"I suppose you want to know what happened.." Robert sighed, running a hand through his white hair and leaning forward in his seat, gripping Margaret closer to him. The whole room seemed to hold its breath then, and the shadows danced in the elderly man's eyes where once there had been a mischievous sparkle.
Gratefully, Robert took the cup of tea that was handed to him by Max and inhaled deeply before finally explaining, being careful to keep his voice low lest there were young ears eavesdropping on the other side of the door.
"I went looking for Max in the west wing but I couldn't find him anywhere.." he began, holding a firm hand up to silence Max when he opened his mouth to apologise. The impresario immediately fell silent and Robert surged on, "I thought perhaps you'd escaped through a back exit and so I made my way there, hoping to scour the outside of the building and find you on the way to the car. Moments after I left the building, the explosion blew the wing to pieces..." his face became overcast with grave shadows and he cleared his throat forcefully before continuing, "I ran back.. I couldn't leave our comrades to burn.. but the wing was a desolate wasteland. It was just a pile of rubble and flames. Some of the boys escaped but a lot were injured or... or killed."
Georg felt sick with shame, suddenly unable to meet his father in law's eyes.
"Eventually the Luftwaffe retreated and we cleared the damage as best we could. The west wing was destroyed but the rest of the base is still relatively in tact.."
Georg gave a pained moan and put his head in his hands, "oh Robert, if only I'd-"
"Don't!" Robert snapped suddenly, his face like thunder, "Don't you say another word Georg!" His tone was so fatherly that his son in law was silenced immediately, "I told you to leave your guilt at the door! If you had never accepted your post, then we wouldn't have been able to build Sea Devil. And if you hadn't left me in the west wing when you did, Maria and Johannes would almost certainly be dead. The Nazis were bound to attack at some point. We are at war, after all. So do not say another word!"
The silence that followed was deafening and Georg felt winded, as though he'd suddenly had some sense knocked into him. Maria had told him countless times before, of course, that he was not to blame for what had happened, and knowing that he had her support had always been an invaluable comfort. But it wasn't until his self-pity had been reprimanded so fiercely by his naval superior, by the man he deemed a father, by the one person in the world that he looked up to as an inspiration - that he felt the weight finally begin to lift from his shoulders. It appeared that Margaret had in fact been right when she'd said Robert would've boxed him round the ears for his self-pity!
"And what of Sea Devil?" Max asked, breaking the unbearable tension.
"She's alive and well!" Robert retorted with a satisfied smirk, a jovial edge returning to his voice, "the Luftwaffe don't know she exists and it seems their attack left her miraculously unscathed. Thank God we weren't building her in the west wing as originally planned, that's all I can say.."
Hope filled Georg's heart unexpectedly, spreading like a warmth through his chest. It seemed that their goals had not yet been thwarted..
"As you well know Georg, She's almost complete," the baron continued, "the rest of the boys at the base will be able to finish what we started. She'll be ready for battle very soon - but sadly we won't be here to see her success."
"Does that mean..." Maria whispered, her face a mask of hope.
"Yes," Robert nodded with a smile, "we - Margaret and I - will still be coming with you to America. We are a family after all, are we not?"
The warmth that had bathed Georg's chest only moments ago suddenly exploded into a joyous heat that covered him from head to toe and he couldn't help the grin the broke across his face. Their new life would start with a full family and even fuller hearts, it seemed! Robert met Georg's gaze then and matched his grin tenfold, as though he knew exactly what his son in law was thinking without the need for words.
"I knew I didn't have much time to make it back to you all before you'd leave Northampton," Robert forged on, "and so I left Hampshire and hitchhiked my way back.. our remaining car was destroyed or stolen in the chaos, I'm not sure which. It took a few days for me to make it to Northampton and by the time I returned, you'd already left. Fortunately I knew exactly where you'd all be. There was only one other place Margaret and I had talked about fleeing to.." he placed a gentle kiss on his wife's cheek then and the baroness blushed fiercely at the unexpected display of affection, "I laid low in Northampton for a few days, mainly to get my strength back - and I managed to organise a ride with one of the neighbours who'd agreed to take me up north. But alas.. " he trailed off, his eyes downcast, "on the morning we'd planned to leave, I was about to make my way over there when some Nazi thugs beat me to it. I saw them storming the house, no doubt looking for one of us, and I fled on foot instead. I'm sad to say I'm not sure what happened to our neighbour but I like to think the Nazis wouldn't hurt him for the mere sake of it."
Raw hatred flickered dangerously in Georg's gut again at the mention of his foe, a hatred that fired through every synapse, every nerve, every vein as though he were about to burst into flames. He shook from the force of it and Maria's hand flew to his forearm once again instinctively, attempting to ease his evident suffering.
"Eventually I managed to hitchhike the rest of the way here," Robert pressed gravely, "And it's a good thing I turned up when I did as it seems I was just about to miss you!"
Georg shuddered at the thought of what might've become of Robert had they left for America before he'd had a chance to find them. It almost didn't bear thinking about.
"Speaking of which.. " Robert pushed his hands into the armchair and pulled himself up onto shaky legs, "we'd better leave very soon if we're going to make it to the port in time.."
Alarmed, Georg immediately snapped out of his reverie, "But can you travel in your condition?" He was on his feet instantly, moving to his father in law's aid, lest his frailty should get the better of him.
The baron gave a knowing chuckle and slapped Georg on the back with surprising strength, despite his withered appearance, "come now my boy!" He barked, "There's fight in the old dog yet!"
The words filled Georg with more hope than he dared to acknowledge, knowing that there had never been more truth in such a simple statement as there was in those moments. It was the exact same sentiment he had once comforted Margaret with when all had seemed entirely lost. And he knew, deep down in his very bones, as his father in law shared his knowing smile, that there would always be fight left in their hearts.
"Is that it?! Is that her?!" Friedrich's excited exclamations were so uncharacteristically loud that Georg was entirely convinced that his son could've given the boat's foghorn a run for its money.
"Shh!" Maria laughed, smiling apologetically at the other passengers on deck, as the rest of the children broke into animated chatter, "yes Friedrich, I believe that's her.."
Georg followed his eager son's pointing finger to see the faint silhouette of the Statue of Liberty in the far distance, holding her torch out to the horizon as though she was guiding them home, lighting the path to freedom, welcoming them with open arms.
"Finally!" Kurt groaned with relief as Louisa thumped him on the arm, presumably for whining.
"Stop that you two!" Leisl reprimanded, and before long the ten of them were creating a terrible ruckus, bickering and shoving each other in their agitation. But Georg could hardly blame them for their restlessness. It had been a long and tiring journey after all, starting with a cramped drive to the port in Liverpool and a desperate search for fifteen tickets for the next vessel to New York.
It certainly hadn't been easy. The port had been swarming with refugees who, like them, were fleeing the horrors of a war that seemed as though it would mar the beauty of their homeland for all eternity. Robert had struggled the hardest, already weak with fatigue and exhaustion. But persistence and hope had seen them boarding the next ship out of England and as the days on the water had slowly flowed into a week, the family had become more accustomed to - even excited by - the prospect of the new life that lay ahead of them.
Georg himself had never felt so free. They were on their way to safety, where his children would be able to grow up with independence and opportunity on every corner. They would live in peace, free from the shackles of warfare. He had his beloved waves underneath him. He had his wife by his side. And against all the odds, despite all the sorrow, they had made it.
"I can't see!" Thomas stomped impatiently, snapping Georg out of his thoughts, and he hoisted the little boy up onto his shoulder with a chuckle, so that he could bask in the magnificence of the unexplored land that was gradually coming into focus underneath the glow of the setting sun. The boy's little eyes widened in awe and Georg was momentarily lost for words as the birds soared against the pinks and blues of the sky ahead. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so utterly surrounded by love.
"Why don't you all go and find your grandparents and uncle Max," Maria urged the excitable brood in an attempt to stop the incessant squabbling, "it would surely be a travesty if they were to miss a view like this."
Her tactic worked instantly, for the children gushed with excitement and little Thomas scrabbled out of his father's arms at the speed of light to join his siblings as they all ran off through the unrelenting crowds.
"I hope they don't get lost," Maria grinned, turning to look out onto the water where Georg too was resting his forearms and gazing upon the scene stretching out in front of them.
"Unless they hurl themselves overboard, they can't go too far," he quipped, enjoying her horrified expression at the very thought.
A comfortable silence hung between them then, as Maria watched the birds dance in the sky and the gentle lap of the waves as they kissed the horizon, where America was slowly coming into view. She could hardly believe how much her life had changed since she'd first left the abbey - she'd been nothing more than a lost young girl who'd known very little of the world, with absolutely no idea what lay in store for her. Who would have thought she'd experience such overwhelming love, heartache, joy and sorrow from the moment she'd walked through the wrought iron gates of 53 Aigen?
She'd found the love of her life in a stoic sea captain, all the more stirring for his many complexities. She'd found her calling in seven boisterous children who had captured her heart. She'd mothered her very own son and adopted two other youngsters who were in desperate need of a mother's love. She'd gained a lifelong friend in Max, she'd found the parents she'd never known in Margaret and Robert - and as she gazed out onto the water before them, she felt as though her heart would simply burst.
The Reverend Mother had once told her that God was testing her, that God was willing her to discover the extent of her capacity to love. But Maria had never known, until this very moment, just how much love she had to give.
"Our new home..." she murmured, breaking the silence as Georg nodded hopefully in the corner of her eye, "what kind of home will be waiting for us out there, I wonder.."
Her husband pondered for a moment, looking every bit as pensive as the first day she'd met him, as the gentle breeze ruffled through his hair.
"I'm not sure," he whispered, "but I know one thing for certain..."
His eyes locked with hers then and she felt her heart swell.
"One of the first things I'm going to do," he stated simply, "is plant a tree.. "
To anyone else, the declaration would have sounded absurd. But to Maria, his words couldn't have been more perfect. And suddenly she was back in Aigen, when he'd first etched their symbol into the bark of their hiding place. Suddenly she was back in Paris, where he'd carved their emblem into the sapling beside the Eiffel Tower. Suddenly she was back on that ship on her way to England, she was back in the woods on that beautiful day in the rolling Cheshire countryside - each place a snapshot through time that harboured the mark of their adoration for one another. A mark that withstood the force of hatred, war and unrest. A symbol of hope and happiness, love and life, joy and refuge. And instinctively she knew, without a word spoken between them, that this new tree they planned to plant in Vermont, would be the last and final place they would ever have to leave their mark.
He turned to her then, a breathtaking and knowing smile adorning his features, the dimples she so adored denting his handsome face. And when he finally spoke it was barely above a murmur, a simple phrase that ghosted from his lips as though he were sharing a life altering secret that only the two of them would ever know about - a secret whose truth had always shone like a light through the darkness and bathed them in the warmth of a new and unwavering hope.
"M+G," he whispered, taking her hand in his, "Always."
THE END
A/N: I know, how can this be the end?! There are so many unanswered questions! Well fear not, there will be a lengthy epilogue to tie all the loose ends but I always had in my head that their voyage to America would be where this story draws to a close. I never intended to go into any detail of what would happen once they arrived in the US.
But I do plan to focus the epilogue a few years into the future so you'll all know exactly how it worked out for our favourite family. I hope you all enjoyed this story and I am forever grateful and deeply humbled by all your amazing reviews.
Special thanks to:
FM, Juliefreak133, IDontKnowYourSignal, Callumrogers7, Sakurapanda18, mucwriter, sherylhanlon, japf, CharleyPaige, Lindsay, Sandiline, , Scot, Cal89, bloghey131313, BrittanyLS, MarchelineBouvier, Sara KM, bloom&grow,BlossomOfEdelweiss, mommyelaine, NickyW, Emara88 - for your multiple reviews from start to finish!
And all the unnamed guests who shared their thoughts on this story. It's taken me six months and without your constant feedback I would never have had the willpower to finish! So thank you again and I hope I've done our favourite couple justice. I'll stop gushing like a loser now. Stay tuned for the epilogue!