A/N: as promised, the lengthy epilogue awaits! A fair warning, the first half of this chapter is a pretty strong M. I figured after five years of marriage there's enough trust and understanding that they'd be less reserved in their desires. Plus these scenes are the most fun to write and I simply couldn't leave this story without one more steamy scene! Anyway! Enjoy!

Epilogue

"Well done Fraulein, I really am very much impressed," Georg quipped with a mischievous arch to his brow as Maria moved away from the bark of the young sapling that had grown at alarming speed over the last few months.

She flashed him a broad smile with a playful roll of her eyes, recalling all too well the simple, yet stirring exchange that his teasing remark obviously referred to. Five years had passed since that particular encounter, an encounter that had left her momentarily breathless - though she hadn't understood the bizarre and sudden warmth that had bathed her body at the time. Five years since that fateful afternoon when she and the children had performed for their curious audience with a collection of endearing puppets. Five years since the night that her formal relationship with Captain von Trapp had drifted into unknown charters.

And yet the passing of time had done nothing to alter the memory of his approving gaze and the way it had lingered a little too long when she'd climbed down from the stage. Five years could hardly erase the recollection of his bashful smile, unwavering and genuine as the rest of the world had fallen away from them. No number of memories that had come before or after could blunt the intensity of those fleeting moments shared between them.

She remembered, with an inward smile, that she'd almost been relieved to escape the intensity of his stare, confused as she had been by what she'd felt. But then had come his rendition of Edelweiss and the fleeting warmth she'd experienced after the puppet show had immediately paled in comparison to the sudden and unexpected heat that had seared through her body when his eyes had met hers once again. How naive she'd been back then, allowing herself to revel in the wonderful new feelings that his gaze evoked, without truly understanding the consequences of what was developing between herself and her employer.

"Well, it's only fitting," she replied with a shrug, tearing herself from her reverie and gesturing to the rest of the orchard that lay before them in the golden light of the spring sunshine, "it would seem out of place to leave this one bare, don't you think?"

Georg grinned, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he followed her gesturing hand and gazed out onto their field of apple trees, each one meticulously marked with an identical emblem in the bark of their trunks. The oldest in the field - a four year old, 30 foot willow - was the only one of its kind in the orchard, stooping majestically in the centre of its smaller companions, like a stationary shepherd guarding its flock.

Georg recalled all too well the day it had been planted, back when the field in front of them had been nothing more than an empty, overgrown wasteland. He'd worked day and night to prepare the soil, allowing the manual labour to become a compulsion driven solely by his promise to plant a tree in the grounds of their new home. He'd become a man possessed, refusing to hire professionals and taking the shovel in his own two hands at the crack of dawn every day until finally the field had been ready. Sweaty and exhausted, caked from head to toe in mud, he'd run back to the great chalet that had become their permanent refuge in all its magnificent glory, nestled amongst the hills of Vermont's beautiful landscape. He'd found Maria and the children playing a game of cards on the hearth in front of the fireplace and before long, they'd all been gathered around in the fresh soil as he sowed the seeds of the sapling that would forever be a symbol of their unwavering fortitude as a family.

When the sapling had grown big enough, he and Maria had etched their symbol into it as promised, and as the months had turned into years in their new home, they'd planted more and more trees to add to their growing collection. The orchard fitted beautifully into the chalet's grounds, the reddy brown hue of the bark matching the mahogany coloured beams of the manor in which they'd found a lifelong home. It matched the glossy brown coats of the braying horses that galloped happily in the adjoining field. It matched the array of colours that marked the majestic mountains that seemed to climb high up into the clouds. And though it would never quite match the splendour of his beloved Austria, the life they had built for themselves in this beautiful place filled him with an overwhelming pride and a peaceful sense of belonging.

Home.

"Come," he pierced the comfortable silence, stretching out his hand for Maria to take. She reached for his fingers without question or hesitation and within seconds he was pulling her through the orchard to their beloved willow, with such boyish excitement on his face that she was filled with a sudden joy. She already knew what he was planning on doing - it had become customary for them to take refuge in their willow from time to time, climbing the young branches and nestling themselves amidst the leafy cocoon while the rest of the world seemed to dissipate for a few glorious minutes, before the demands of everyday life would make themselves known once more.

He made to give her a leg up but he ought to have known by now that his tree climbing Fraulein needed no such assistance, for she ignored his offer with a playfully derisive scoff and scrambled up the tree with effortless ease, making the act appear as elegant as if she were back on his terrace dancing the Ländler.

"Need any help, old man?" Maria teased with a delectable giggle from her position above him, and he gave a growl of mock indignation as he made his way to her side, the ascent coming easily to him despite his fiftieth birthday drawing ever closer. He nestled himself beside her and let his legs dangle freely from the branch, looking as boyish as Kurt had done before he'd reached teenhood. He turned to her then, his eyes gleaming with mischief and his loose shirt billowing slightly in the breeze. He'd long since abandoned the appearance of the buttoned up authoritarian and Maria had to admit she rather liked her captain this way - regal, masculine, toned and tanned from days spent outdoors in nothing but a Bavarian shirt and casual pants. And she found that the gentle curls that escaped from the parted material set her heart aflutter just as much as they had done all those years ago, when he'd first found her in her leafy hiding place.

"Why do you stare at me that way?" his eyes narrowed self-consciously under her approving scrutiny, but the boyish warmth remained.

"It's just.. you don't look at all like a sea captain, sir.." she retorted, an amused lilt edging into her voice as she recalled another of their shared memories from the very first days of their acquaintance.

He gave a jovial bark of laughter that brought forth the dimples in his cheeks and they shared a knowing smile, "did I ever?!" He asked incredulously.

"More so before than you ever do now!" She replied, stroking the rich hair from his forehead where a lock or two had fallen forward, making him appear almost devilishly handsome, "but I much prefer you this way."

His eyes fluttered closed and he learnt further into her touch, basking in the familiar feeling of her fingers raking through his hair.

"And what way is that, my love?" He asked, his voice suddenly husky as his eyes flew open, shifting to her lips while her hand travelled languidly to the place where his shirt hung open. Her fingers danced slowly across the curls she found there and he felt his breath hitch at the implication of her unexpected ministrations.

"Unbuttoned." She whispered salaciously, her voice rich with suggestive intent and her eyes wide with fraudulent innocence.

The contrast was enough to turn his blood hot and he gave a sudden growl of longing, lunging closer and capturing his wife's lips with his own, revelling in her gasp of surprise against his mouth. His kiss was immediately invasive and demanding, a sensation that Maria had not only gotten used to over the years, but had also found herself delighting in. She knew Georg's body as intricately as she knew her own and she'd long ago learnt to decipher the telltale signs of what he was feeling - whether it was the evident devotion that lay behind a languid caress, the obvious need that hid beyond a stirring embrace, or the ravenous hunger that accompanied a rough kiss - she recognised them all and welcomed them with as much ferocity as her first days as a young and curious bride. It was the latter he was administering now, his hands tangling into her hair as he tasted every inch of her mouth with a series of groans that caused the heat to unfurl in her stomach. Gasping for breath and gripping his shoulders as he moved instantly to her neck, she marvelled in the way their bodies responded so ardently towards one another, even after five years of marriage.

"God, it's been too long!" His breath was hot and intoxicating against her throat and she could feel the shudder of desire running through him.

"Georg!" She admonished with a breathless laugh, "you had me only a few days ago!"

"Precisely," he groaned, recalling the all too delicious encounter they'd shared earlier that week and finding himself confronted with a sudden wave of arousal, "too long!"

He was more than aware of how demanding he was being with his touch, how his hands seemed to wander over her body completely of their own accord, but he found he couldn't help himself - and likewise she was doing nothing to still his movements, welcoming his ministrations with eager anticipation. Five years of marriage had taught him exactly what his wife was capable of and he'd discovered long ago that she was unafraid and unashamed of their more ferocious encounters. He'd long since given up trying to protect her from the somewhat darker side of his urges.

Their tree seemed to do this to him more often than not, confronting him with memories of when he'd first realised he'd fallen in love with his governess. And every time they escaped to their little hideaway amidst the leaves of the orchard around them, he found himself filled with a sudden and overwhelming gratitude for the woman before him - a ravenous need to suddenly be close to her, to possess her in a way that only he was permitted. And the resulting love-making over the years had spanned from the gentle and languid, to the kind of commanding, rough and primitive encounters that turned him into a man possessed.

"Where are the children?" He rasped.

"The house.." was her barely audibly reply as his fingers skated over her nipples, toying with the buttons of her blouse mercilessly, "with Max... Except Friedrich - he's out.. with Kathryn."

Georg gave a grunt of approval as his hand slipped underneath her blouse and cupped a warm breast. It was no surprise that their blond haired, blue eyed nineteen year old had found himself a lovely American girl so quickly, but Georg had at first been worried that his eldest boy might perhaps inherit some of his own rakish tendencies from his youth. He made a mental note to have a word with his son about it later but at this particular moment, he found he couldn't care less. As it was, the children's current preoccupations left him and Maria at a distinct advantage.

With great difficulty, he abruptly tore his mouth away from hers and attempted to catch his breath, delighting in her immediate whimper of protest.

"Come on," he implored, taking her hand in his and helping her jump the few feet down from the branch with him.

"Where are we going?" She asked as her feet landed on solid ground and he immediately began pulling her further through the orchard, away from their willow and the house that lay beyond it.

When he gave nothing by way of reply she chanced a sideways glance at his face and felt her breath suddenly catch at the raw desire she discovered churning in his eyes. He didn't meet her gaze but instead stared straight ahead, his jaw set rigidly and his feet charging forward one after the other as he pulled her along with him.

Within moments, the stables came into view, and her heart hammered in her ribs with anticipation as she realised his intended destination. Surely he didn't think..

But she didn't have time to ascertain whatever it was he might be thinking, for he threw open the wooden door, pulled her inside the shadowed stable and pinned her against the timber with the weight of his body before she'd even had time to think.

Mere seconds passed before his hands were in her hair again and and his teeth were wracking over the skin of her neck and collarbone, making it difficult to focus on anything but the fire spreading from his point of contact. He was utterly insatiable when he was in one of these moods, often catching her entirely by surprise at the most unexpected moments. But far from being put out, she found it thrilling in a way she never would've thought possible when she'd been a chaste though curious postulant. He was using her body primarily for his own pleasure and with his insistent desperation would come a kind of ecstasy that she could only have dreamt of. And as his fingers flew down the row of buttons on her blouse, parting the material and shoving the cups of her undergarments aside impatiently, she felt a knowing smile tug at her lips. Two could play at this game. She would undo him with effortless ease.

"Where's your riding crop?" She managed to choke out against the warm pull of his mouth on her nipple.

He stilled abruptly, unable to mask his sharp intake of breath as he pulled back to look at her, his eyes wide with astonishment. Was she suggesting what he thought she might be suggesting? His instinct was to hesitate but it was her eyes that gave her away as she flashed him a look of pure fire through her thick lashes. There was no mistaking what she meant. Her gaze spoke of her tacit permission.

"Oh Maria," he rasped, burying his face in her breast again and taking a moment to breathe heavily through the arousal that her suggestive question provoked.

Wordlessly he slipped from her arms, his eyes burning a hole in her flushed face as he reached blindly for the crop that hung from the hook behind the door. He looked positively devilish as he held her gaze unashamedly, his irises darkening under her scrutiny as she watched him curl his fists around the leather and bend it dangerously beneath his fingers. She couldn't quite recall at which point in their marriage he'd revealed this particular side of himself to her - or perhaps it was a new side that she'd somehow unknowingly drawn out of him - but she knew she would've been entirely too overwhelmed as a young virginal bride to understand it. Now that she was more accustomed to the many different shades of her Captain however, it seemed almost obvious that he would harbour a darker side. For all his gentle caresses and loving affections, there was a part of him that would always be the chilly, stoic authoritarian - hopelessly compelled to possess and control her.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.

"Turn around, Fraulein."

Pulse thudding at her throat, Maria complied, a shameful delight uncoiling deep within her as she wondered whether the reserved Captain von Trapp she'd met five years ago had ever felt the unorthodox desire to put his unruly governess in her place.

She heard the rustling of hay beneath his feet as he approached her achingly slowly until a firm, warm hand caressed the back of her neck, the skin of her shoulders - until he took hold of her blouse and tugged it down her body. Her undergarments followed and she splayed her fingers against the timber for support, her heart in her mouth. He took a step away from her and she could hear his ragged breathing as he admired the blank canvas of her back, the cool leather of the crop skating featherlight over her skin and leaving a fiery path in its wake, until it came to rest at the base of her spine where the material of her skirt obstructed his affectionate assault.

"Take it off." He sounded every bit as cool and controlled as he had in the foyer all those years ago, but she knew that if she turned around she'd see the turmoil raging in his eyes where his mind was battling with his body. She might've been the one under his command but she knew that it was he who was being driven mad with desire.

Again she complied, another smile tugging at her lips as she heard his groan of longing. How her Captain loved the illusion of control, but little did he know that she ruled him just as fiercely.

Georg attempted to calm his primitive thoughts as he drank in the sight of his wife draped before him, her clothes pooled at her feet and nothing but her garters to keep her modesty, entirely at his command. He'd been so ashamed at first, when he'd discovered just how much he sometimes wished to dominate her - almost beyond reason. As it turned out however, she'd quickly proven not only that she encouraged such desires, but that she could equal his fervour in every way.

The gentle crack of the crop against her

skin forced a gasp from her as the heat of it spread across her backside, and she felt the colour rise in her cheeks at the wicked shame of such an act. The second swat that followed was just as gentle but firm and she felt, rather than heard his shuddering rasp. With meticulous precision, he caressed her body with the soft leather - her thighs, her hip, her shoulder blades - administering an unexpected swat or two in between when the anticipation would become too much for him. Who would surrender first, she wondered, as the arousal building within her became almost too intense to bare. Who would eventually give in and beg for the inevitable? She knew, in the end, that it would be her words that would send him into a frenzy.

"Did you imagine doing this?" She gasped provocatively as he administered another swat,"when I was a disobedient governess. And you were my employer. Did.. did you think of doing this to me?"

The intended effect of her words was instant and intoxicating. She heard him freeze, the silence so palpable she could've sworn she could hear his thundering heartbeat reverberating off the walls. There was his sharp intake of breath, the sound of the crop clattering to the floor, the unmistakable hum of his zipper, a frantic rustle of hay as he thundered towards her - and then his entire body was flush against hers, his strong arms encircling her waist and the evidence of his arousal straining warm and hard against the base of her spine.

"Yes, God help me," he growled against her ear, reaching round to palm her breasts and nudging her legs further apart with his knees. She'd barely had time to congratulate herself on her victory before he filled her entirely with one ardent thrust, rewarding them both for their delayed gratification.

She saw his hands then, positioning themselves stiffly next to hers against the timber, locking her in his sheltered embrace as he buried his face into the crook of her shoulder and moved rhythmically along her body. There came a deep ache within her at this wonderful violation, her loins throbbing painfully with the reality of what her normally unflappable husband was doing to her. He'd moved beyond the primitive, beyond the carnal, panting in her ear and clutching her as close as she could possibly be.

She found herself wishing she could see his face, knowing it would be contorted with pleasure, his eyes squeezed tight shut as he worked them both into a frenzy. As he moved faster and faster against her, she was vaguely aware of one of his hands leaving the wood, moving to cup her breast, sliding down her abdomen and lower still - until he found the heat of her centre and began to tease mercilessly with skilled fingers. He slowed his insistent thrusts with ragged breaths that ghosted against her neck, seemingly in an effort to bring her to the brink of sanity with him. And she realised her nails were biting into the wooden slats of the wall as the pleasure began to build unbearably within her.

"What would you have done, Fraulein?" He murmured in her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth, each word punctuated by a nudge that skimmed the fire inside her body as his fingers worked relentlessly against her, "if I'd administered such a punishment?"

The hint of a smile quirked at her lips again as she attempted to imagine the unlikely scenario, she as the wayward postulant and he as the despicable employer, exerting his unwavering authority during their regular meetings in his study. What would she have done as a young but curious governess? Run for the hills? Cower in fear? Cry out from the sting of pleasure and shame? Either way, it hardly mattered, for he'd just given her the ammunition she needed to drive him completely over the edge.

"I would've.. disobeyed you again and again," she gasped, throwing her head back against his shoulder as he rewarded her by quickening the pace.

"Why?" He rasped.

"So that you'd have no choice but to teach me a thorough lesson."

Georg was entirely unable to contain the shout that tore from his lungs as her words sent him headfirst into an immediate and ferocious release. Burning all over, he drove as deep within her as he possibly could, shuddering and jerking helplessly as his knees threatened to buckle beneath him. And it was his frantic response, the realisation of what she'd done to him, the relentless stroke of his tireless fingers that finally undid her mere moments later, the ecstasy thundering through her body as she felt herself fall limp in his arms.

They knew nothing of the world as long minutes passed, clinging to each other, the only sound the roar of their harmonious heartbeats and the harsh bursts of their shallow breaths as he pressed languid kisses to her shoulder.

"I love you," he implored, awaiting the sting of shame that he ought to feel after treating his wife so roughly. He knew that the guilt would never come however, for the trust they had built between them over the years left him entirely safe in the knowledge that his Maria not only welcomed such a dark level of intimacy, but craved it just as much as he did.

"I love you too," she murmured, "that was.. exquisite."

He gave a bashful chuckle as they disentangled themselves from one another and made quick work of their clothes. Within moments, they were respectably dressed and composed, as though the entire encounter had never happened. And it was just as well, for the sound of thundering footsteps could suddenly be heard approaching in the orchard outside.

Frowning in curiosity, Georg made his way out into the grounds and shielded his eyes from the sun, watching as a ruffled Max came charging into view, waving his hat impatiently as he ran.

"There you are for Christ sake!" The impresario cried, coming to a halt and grasping his knees as he attempted to. catch his breath, "I've been looking everywhere for you! What the devil are you both doing down here!"

Georg threw Maria a nervous sideways glance and replied somewhat stupidly, "we were checking on the horses."

A long and painful pause hung between the three of them as Max's eyes narrowed in confusion. Maria could've smacked a palm against her forehead in exasperation at her husband's ridiculous answer.

"You mean the horses that are grazing over in the paddock?" Max asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder and peering past Georg into the clearly very empty stables. A knowing smirk suddenly graced the impresario's features then, and an unwelcome blush crept into Maria's cheeks.

In any other circumstance the impresario would have loved to watch his friend squirm, drawing out his discomfort for as long as was humanly possible. But on this particular occasion, he had far more pressing matters to address.

"Never mind that now!" He insisted, shaking himself back to his task, "it's over Georg!" He was positively humming with excitement.

"Over?" Maria frowned, "what's over?"

"The war of course!" Max cried, throwing his hat into the air and spreading his arms wide in a display of profound joy as Georg felt his heart leap, "the damned war is over!"

The evening's celebrations were some of the happiest moments Maria had ever experienced in her life. The sun hung low in the sky above the mountains as though blessing them with its warmth, the branches of the trees adorning the orchard swayed gently in the breeze, and the overwhelming sense of peace that befell them was enough to make her heart soar. The great big wooden table that normally belonged in the dining room had been brought outside onto the grass and a glorious feast had been served to keep them full for days to come.

Moments after Max had delivered the news, Georg had broken into a run towards the house without so much as a word leaving his lips, bursting through the front door to find his children, Robert and Margaret gathered around the radio atop the kitchen table. He'd waded through the little crowd in desperation and gripped the device in his hands, hearing but not quite believing the crackly words emanating from the box as the reporter confirmed what Max had already told him.

"I don't believe it," Robert had murmured, entirely dumbstruck as he'd leant on his recently acquired cane and gripped Margaret's hand, "I just don't believe it!"

His heart hammering in his throat, Georg had straightened up then, turning his head to find Maria in the doorway with a question in her eyes. Time seemed to stand still and the world seemed to shift on its axis in the moments, as the news had truly begun to sink in. And before he'd known it he'd been moving towards Maria and scooping her into his arms, twirling her round and laughing in utter relief, his brood staring open mouthed at such an uncharacteristic display of affection.

"It's over!" He'd shouted, putting Maria down and gathering each of his gawping children to him desperately, all the while laughing with the sheer weight of his joy.

"Father!" Thomas' voice cut through his memory and he looked up to find the eight year old looking at him exasperatedly from across the table, "Leisl asked you to pass the bread!"

Leisl and her fiancé Mark, who they'd immediately invited to the celebrations, flashed him a knowing grin and he hastily passed the bread before his boisterous young son had the chance to tell him off again.

Now that he'd had the chance to take it all in, he allowed himself a moment to look upon the rest of his family - Thomas, Lucy, Marta and Gretl slurping happily on their drinks, perhaps the most settled in their new lives since they'd been so young when they'd first arrived here. Kurt gobbling his meal with as hearty an appetite as ever, a hunger that had reached dizzying new heights in his teenage years. The not so little genius Brigitta, her face buried in a book at the dinner table as usual. Seventeen year old Louisa, looking strikingly like her mother nowadays, especially after having lost some of her prickliness as she'd begun to move into adulthood. And of course, strapping Friedrich, who was so enraptured by the sight of his Kathryn perched beside him that he'd barely touched his food. How proud he and Maria were of them all. How proud Agathe would have been of her darling children.

With a inward smile he looked to the other side of the table, where four year old Johannes bounced on his grandfather's knee, Margaret cooing over him with evident adoration. Leaning back in his chair and letting the gentle breeze ruffle through his hair, he gave a contented sigh as he basked in the bliss of this sudden and overwhelming gratitude he felt for the hand he'd been dealt. He was undoubtedly blessed, far more than he had ever deserved.

"A toast!" Max yelled happily, raising his glass of red and swaying gently on the spot after a little too much indulgence. All eyes fell in his direction as the table fell immediately silent, awaiting his words of either wisdom or folly, depending on his mood.

"To friends and family!" He cried, "to peace and harmony! And to our beloved Austria," his eyes met Georg's then as he raised his glass higher, "bless our homeland forever."

Yells of 'prost' could be heard around the table and they all took a swig of their drinks, even the little ones as they giggled at their display of maturity.

"And you know Georg," Max continued as he settled back into his seat, a mischievous gleam in his eye, "I have some news that may add to your jovial mood, if it's even possible."

"More gossip Max?" Maria teased with a raised eyebrow.

"Naturally!" Max grinned, "and from a knowledgable source back in Austria! An old navy friend I had the pleasure of calling today."

"On Georg's telephone no doubt!" Margaret chastised.

"Well how else could I afford it!"

Georg gave a hearty chuckle, knowing that even his best friend's sponge-like qualities could do nothing to ruin his ecstatic mood, "well please Max, do put me out of my misery."

"According to my source," Max began gleefully, "the attack on your Hampshire base four years ago was orchestrated by Zeller outside of official orders," the titter of conversation around the table was abruptly extinguished as everyone leaned in to listen to the impresario's tale, "He was stripped of his post and sent to help the war effort, rumour has it - as a marine. He should've been court marshalled if you ask me but reducing him to such an inferior rank would've been far more humiliating for him, I imagine. And the u-boats were in desperate need of men at the time," he paused to take a long swig of his drink, revelling in the anticipatory silence as everyone gawped at him in disbelief, "anyway," he continued with a wicked grin, "it turns out that Zeller was aboard one particular u-boat that was hit rather badly by a Royal Navy submarine. Blown to bits in fact. And rumour has it," he drawled gleefully, "that the allied submarine was none other than HMS Sea Devil."

Georg's chest entirely constricted, suddenly battling between the sadness that came with the loss of the young lives aboard the u-boat, and the victory that accompanied the fact that justice had been served to such a cruel individual. His gaze locked with Maria's then, finding all the love and devotion there that he knew he'd ever need to remain a happy man, and the sudden wave of adoration he felt for the woman before him almost knocked him breathless.

And when he finally spoke, Maria knew his words were for her and her alone.

"A force to be reckoned with indeed."

A/N: and there we have it! I can't quite believe it's officially over but alas it couldn't go on forever. Please do leave your final thoughts and thank you again for all your wonderful words along the way. I'm so grateful.

I hope to write more stories soon so if you gave any particular requests do let me know as I'd welcome some inspiration!

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