A/N: I've never written a full SoM fanfic before, but I recently showed the movie to my children for the first time and remembered just how much I love it. The idea for this story popped into my head after watching, and I simply could not shake it. After writing about 30,000 words, I realized that it would stick with me long enough to finish, so here it is.
As I mentioned in the summary, this is very A/U. In particular, Maria comes to the von Trapp's much earlier, soon after Agathe dies (and yes, I know that she did not die in childbirth in real life, but I don't believe they ever give a cause of death in the movie, so I took a bit of liberty there, mainly because I had a particular time period where I wanted this to be set for reasons that will eventually become clear). That, of course, means Maria is older though I kept the children the same age, so they are younger in this story than in the movie (which works out better in many ways for me since all my children are still fairly young, so it's easier to write small children). I've also made Georg darker and more mysterious than in the movie for reasons that will make sense soon enough. I've tried to keep this as historically accurate as possible, but I am an engineer, not a historian so there may be some errors. I also do not have events exactly follow the movie since a) that would be boring and b) I've always thought that the changes that occur in the characters (Georg and Maria falling in love, Maria winning the children's affection, Georg opening up to the children) would take a lot longer than they did. But don't worry; I tried to keep this a reasonable length, so I'm not detailing every interaction.
I, of course, do not own Sound of Music and am making no money off of this.
Maria Ranier knocked tentatively on the large wooden door in front of her, half hoping that no one would respond. But of course, someone did. "Ave," called the musical voice from inside. Slowly, Maria pushed open the door, bowing her head low as she approached the older woman in a nun's habit standing behind her desk.
"You called for me, Reverend Mother."
"Yes. Please, sit." The woman gestured to a chair in front of her desk as she herself sat in the one behind it. Maria sank into it, smoothing her tunic out carefully. She studied the oak planks on the floor of the office, trying to remember if she had done anything that would warrant punishment lately. Though she had certainly had her share of conversations about her transgressions with the Reverend Mother in the past, she could not honestly remember anything which would necessitate one now which simply worried her more. "Maria, I am going to come straight to the point. You've been with us for almost three years, and I have not yet heard any indication that you are interested in taking your vows. Are you truly happy here?"
Maria finally tore her eyes from the floor to look at the older woman. She supposed it was a valid question, for most women who came to the convent took their vows within a year or two. However, it was, in many ways, the wrong question. "Yes, I am happy here," Maria answered truthfully. She could not deny that–she was the happier in the Abbey than she had ever been in her life except perhaps during her first year of nursing school. But it was not the question of her happiness that plagued Maria. If Maria only cared about being happy, she would have taken her vows long before, but something held her back.
The Reverend Mother seemed to sense her inner turmoil, and her expression softened as she looked at the young woman sitting in front of her desk. "I suppose happiness is not all there is to life. Have you been praying about your vocation?"
"Oh, yes," Maria answered earnestly. And she had. Unfortunately, her prayers had not yet led her to an answer. She had heard other postulants talking about how they knew they wanted to pursue the religious life, that they had no question about their future vocation. Maria had never felt such confidence. For all of her life, she had moved from one thing to another without ever finding a place that she felt she truly belonged. She supposed she might have had such a place with her mother, but she had died when Maria was six, so Maria did not remember much about that part of her life.
"I see." The Reverend Mother folded her hands in front of her, studying Maria closely. Maria dropped her eyes to the ground again, unable to meet the intense gaze. "I had a request come our way this morning. A retired naval captain, a kind, honorable man, lost his wife a few months ago while she was giving birth to their seventh child. He has had a difficult time since her death finding a caregiver for the children, and he thought we might have someone in mind who can help."
Maria stared at Reverend Mother, her eyes wide with shock. She did not know the first thing about children! She had spent most of her childhood on her uncle's farm which was fairly isolated, so her only interaction with other children had been at school where most of the kids teased her mercilessly about her patched clothing and various injuries. Even when she was studying to be a nurse, most of her training had focused on adult patients. "Me?" she questioned, her voice breaking slightly.
"I think it would provide quite the change from religious life and give you a chance to see if perhaps your true vocation lies elsewhere."
"But seven children? What am I supposed to do with seven children?"
A small smile played across the Reverend Mother's lips. "I have a feeling that you will find yourself well suited to dealing with children," she remarked. Maria was not sure what exactly the comment meant, so she chose not to respond. The Reverend Mother leaned forward, clasping one of Maria's hands in both of hers. "Maria, if nothing else, this will give you a chance to leave the Abbey for a bit. I know you sometimes find its walls. . . constraining. I think you should take the opportunity to decide if you can truly live behind them for the rest of your life."
Maria bit her lip, considering for a moment, before nodding. The Reverend Mother was right. As safe as Maria felt in the Abbey, she also often felt caged. "How long would I be gone?"
"There was no specific time period given with the request, but I would expect you to stay at least through the holidays. After that, we can discuss the suitability of the arrangement for all parties to determine if you would stay for longer." Maria heard the underlying implication–she would not just be determining if she would stay longer with the children but also if she would be taking the vows of a nun.
Gathering her courage, Maria spoke. "When do I start?"
"I will write Captain von Trapp immediately to let him know you are coming. I suggest packing tonight so you can leave after Mass tomorrow." Maria nodded, standing to leave. "My child?" Reverend Mother called, causing Maria to turn back. "There are many ways to love God. Just remember that as you pray about your future."
"Thank you, Reverend Mother." Maria shut the door softly behind her as she left. She wandered slowly back to her room, lost in thought.
Packing did not take long, for Maria had given away most of her worldly possessions upon moving to the Abbey. One of the few she had kept was her guitar–the first thing she had bought with her own money after finally escaping from her uncle's house. She had taught herself to play, teasing the notes she had always heard in her head from the strings until she could accompany herself while she sang for her favorite songs. She simply could not part from the instrument, and fortunately, no one had tried to insist she do so. Once she had finished packing, Maria decided to take the Reverend Mother's suggestion, falling to her knees in prayer.
Maria did not feel any wiser when she awoke the following morning, but she forced her nerves away as she prepared herself for Mass. Generally, Mass seemed interminably long to Maria, and she fidgeted through much of it, but on the current day, time passed quickly. Before she could truly comprehend what was happening, she was back in her room to gather her small bag and guitar and board the bus for Aigen where the note slipped under her door that morning had instructed her to go. She hummed to herself as she rode out of town, telling herself that it would be a grand adventure. At the very least, she would come back to the Abbey with stories to tell.
As the bus drove onwards, Maria noted the houses growing larger and grander. When the conductor announced the final stop, Maria stepped off, glancing around. She had never been in the current part of Salzburg before, for she typically remained within the poorer districts, but she knew enough about the geography of the area to know she was not even in Aigen yet and therefore still a good distance from the von Trapp villa. Maria sighed, adjusting her hat on her head and picking up her meager luggage. She had always liked a good walk.
It took the better part of an hour to reach the villa, and Maria made a mental note to check if any other buses ran nearer to it. She wanted to be sure she could reach other parts of Salzburg if needed. At the current moment, however, she had more pressing problems such as the fact that she was red-faced and out of breath from her walk and staring up at a house–if the grand structure in front of her could truly be called such a thing–where everyone would surely disapprove of such an appearance. Slowing her steps, she took a few deep breaths to slow her breathing, stepping up onto the porch with as much confidence as she could. Setting her bag and guitar case down, she pressed the doorbell with a flourish. An older man answered within a few seconds, and she quickly stuck out a hand in greeting. "Hello, Captain, I'm Fraulein Maria. I'm here to help look after the children."
The man regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "And I'm the butler, Fraulein," he corrected, ignoring the hand. He stepped back from the door, gesturing her inside. "Wait here," he instructed as he closed the door behind her and strode off into the house. Maria truly intended to wait, but her natural curiosity got the better of her after only a few seconds. She stepped slowly into the foyer, gazing in wonder at the opulence which surrounded her. She found it hard to believe that people actually lived in such structures. Spinning around, she caught sight of an ornate door and immediately traipsed over to it. It opened to reveal an beautiful ballroom; without truly considering her actions, Maria stepped inside. In her mind, she imagined she was a princess from the fairy tales of which she had been so fond as a young child, and she spun around the large space, pretending a prince had his arms around her.
Of course, no prince existed–instead, she heard a rather cold voice remark stiffly, "Fraulein, I'd like to remind you that certain rooms are strictly off limits." Turning, Maria gasped slightly as she saw a man about a decade her senior standing in the doorway, a severe expression on his face.
"Captain?" she ventured, unsure of her guess. Truthfully, she felt the butler looked more like a naval captain than the man now standing in front of her. Her current companion had dark hair untouched by gray that lay neatly on top of a face with strong, aquiline features, a square jaw, and piercing blue eyes. He was, Maria noted without truly meaning to do so, quite handsome–in fact, except for the scowl, he looked like a prince.
"The Abbey sent you?"
"Yes, sir. It is an honor to meet you." She held out a hand. He stared at it a moment before taking it, shaking it almost reluctantly. As he did, his eyes quickly took in her appearance, and his frown deepened.
"They did tell you why I requested help, did they not?"
"They did, sir. I am to look after your children. There are seven of them, correct?"
His lips twitched slightly, but he still did not smile. "The last I checked," he said dryly. He gave her one last, measuring look before letting out a breath. "I suppose it is too late now. Come along, Fraulein. I will take you to meet the children." Wondering what he meant by such a statement, Maria followed him meekly up the stairs. As they walked, he spoke. "The oldest five are all in school, four of them for a full day and one for half-day Kindergarten, and that is their first priority. They are permitted one quick snack when they arrive home after which they are to begin their school work. Only after they finish that may they play, and they should endeavor to keep that play quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the house. On weekends, they again must prioritize their work, but they will naturally have more time for play then. The younger ones have enrichment activities in the morning; Frau Schmidt, my housekeeper, can give you a schedule with the rotation. In the afternoons, they all take two hours of quiet time after which they can play if they wish. Frau Schmidt can give you a full schedule of naps and meal times, all of which are strictly observed in this household." Maria nodded dumbly, wondering if she should be writing his instructions down. Of course, he had given her no opportunity to find a pen and paper, so she supposed she did not have much opportunity to do so. She would simply have to find Frau Schmidt at her earliest convenience.
He stopped in front of a door, giving her one final look before pushing it open. Six heads looked over at her, and Maria had to stop herself from flinching at the scrutiny. "These are the children," the Captain introduced needlessly. Pointing to each one in turn, he introduced them. "Liesl is eleven, Friedrich nine, Louisa eight, Kurt six, Brigitta five, and Marta, two. Gretl is my youngest at six months and is napping in the other room." Maria nodded, trying to commit the names to memory. From the expressions on the children's faces, she did not expect much help from them in memorizing names. "Children, this is Fraulein. . . I guess I never caught your name."
"Maria," Maria said, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt.
"Fraulein Maria. She will be taking care of you now. Fraulein, dinner is served at precisely 6:30." With that, he turned and left the room. No one said anything for a few moments. Finally, Maria broke the silence.
"Well, children, I am certainly looking forward to getting to know you all."
The oldest boy–Franz? No, Friedrich–scoffed. "Sure you are."
"You don't think I would want to get to know the children I will be spending so much time with?"
He gave her a piercing look. "No one wants to get to know us, not even our own father. We're impossible." Maria took a deep breath. It seemed this was going to be even harder than she thought, and she had certainly never entertained any thoughts of her task being an easy one.
"I suppose I will just have to convince you then," Maria said, keeping her tone light. "What are some things you are interested in? Perhaps we can start with that."
The second oldest girl–Louisa, Maria remembered–arched her eyebrows. "Quiet governesses," she told Maria. Her older siblings snickered. Maria silently prayed for strength.
"In that case, perhaps I will just sit over here for a bit." With that, Maria settled herself into a corner, setting her bag and guitar case behind her. Vaguely, she wondered where exactly she was supposed to put them. The Captain had not shown her a room where she would be staying. However, she pushed that problem aside for later–perhaps it would be another thing she could discuss with the elusive Frau Schmidt. The children eyed her warily as she settled in to wait, but eventually, they grew bored of watching her and returned to whatever they had been doing when she first entered the room. Maria watched them carefully. If they refused to talk to her, she could at least make her own conclusions about their preferences by watching them. The oldest girls were playing checkers, but their moves were lazy and ill-considered. Maria suspected they were playing more for something to do than for any love of the game. The boys were both bent over a small wooden model of a ship–appropriate, Maria thought, for the sons of a Navy captain. They appeared more engrossed in their activity than the girls, but Maria was not sure if it was out of genuine enjoyment for building model ships or because of a deep-seated desire to please their father. She made a mental note to explore that question later. The middle girl was flipping through a book which seemed much too large for a child her age and appeared to have something to do with horses judging by the cover, and the youngest girl happily danced her dolls around the ground.
In the end, the middle girl–Brigitta–made the first overture toward their new governess. "There are a lot of big words in this book," she remarked, holding out the book she was reading. "I can't read them all."
Maria took the book from her hands, a bit surprised that she was reading any of it. "You can read this?" she questioned.
The small girl bristled immediately. "Of course!" Her older sisters looked up from their game, obviously pleased at Maria's faux pas. Quickly, Maria backpedaled.
"How silly of me to ask; I only wondered since I would never have been able to read anything this advanced at your age," Maria said truthfully. Fortunately, the self deprecation mollified the child. "Would you like me to read all of it or do you want me to just help with the big words?" Maria questioned, deciding it would be best to let Brigitta make the decisions so Maria did not inadvertently offend again.
Brigitta considered carefully. "You read it all," she finally declared. Smiling happily, Maria did as she asked, even using different voices for the different characters, much to the young girl's delight. The youngest girl soon crawled over into Maria's lap to listen as well, and Maria thought she caught flickers of interest on the faces of the older children though they continued with their previous pursuits. A knock interrupted her some time later, and she looked up at the door to see a matronly woman enter the room.
"Fraulein Maria?" the woman asked, approaching.
"Yes." Maria stood, setting Marta on the ground.
"I'm Frau Schmidt, the housekeeper. I apologize that I was unable to meet you earlier, but if you would like to follow me now, I can show you to your room." Maria glanced at the children uncertainly. The oldest four resolutely looked away, but she noted with some pride that Brigitta and Marta both seemed upset at the prospect of her leaving. Frau Schmidt quickly added, "The children should be fine for a few minutes. It will not take long."
"Alright," Maria finally agreed. "But only a few minutes." Maria followed the older woman down the hall a short ways to a nondescript door a few dozen feet from the children's rooms.
"It is not much, but I hope you will be comfortable," she remarked, pushing open the door. Maria bit her lip to stop the remark on the tip of her tongue–the room was, by far, the most luxurious she had ever stayed in. She set her guitar case and bag to one side, glancing at the wardrobe which was much larger than she needed for the single change of clothes she had with her.
"I am sure I will be very comfortable."
"Is there anything else you need?"
Maria hesitated a moment, but she knew that her current wardrobe was simply not sufficient for the task ahead of her. "Actually, would it be possible to obtain some fabric? Nothing expensive, of course, just whatever you can find."
"Fabric?" The housekeeper's brow creased in confusion.
"For clothes. The Abbey encourages you to give all your worldly possessions to the poor upon entering, which was fine while I was at the Abbey since I wore a habit all the time, but now that I am here. . . " Maria trailed off, realizing she was rambling. The older woman smiled kindly.
"Of course. I will make sure you get something suitable. I can arrange the clothes themselves if that would be better for you."
"Oh, no, don't go to such trouble on my account! I am quite proficient at sewing."
"Very well then. I will have something ready for you tonight."
"Thank you." As the housekeeper turned to leave, Maria remembered something else the Captain had told her. "Actually, Frau Schmidt, Captain von Trapp mentioned you have a schedule for the children."
"I do. I can bring it to you tonight with the fabric. Speaking of schedules, Gretl, the youngest, should be waking from her nap soon. The nursery is just to the right of the room where I found you." Maria thanked her before hanging her single dress in the wardrobe. She then glanced briefly around the room which would be her home at least for the next four months. She supposed it could have been much worse.
Maria stopped in the room Frau Schmidt had indicated was a nursery and found a blue-eyed, blond-haired baby who was wide awake but surprisingly not fussing. She searched for a minute before finding diapering supplies, and she changed the baby's diaper before lifting Gretl into her arms. Maria had changed diapers while training to be a nurse before entering the Abbey, so her skills were rusty, but they came back to her more quickly than she expected. Once Gretl was clean and dry, she went back to the room where the other children played. Brigitta and Marta immediately clambered over, begging her to read another story, and she happily obliged though she kept a wary eye on the older children. Despite her misgivings, however, nothing had happened by the time the clock struck six at which point Maria decided it was time to prepare for dinner. Somewhat to her surprise, the children all listened when she suggested they get ready, and the eight of them actually made it to the dinner table before the Captain. He raised an eyebrow when he saw his children standing behind their seats, but he made no comment as he took his own seat. Chairs scraped back as his children followed his example.
Maria spent most of the meal bouncing Gretl on her knee as she tried to eat one-handed. She had noted the Captain's raised eyebrows when he saw the baby in her arms, and she had blushed slightly before reminding herself that no one had told her anything else to do with the infant and she could not very well leave such a young baby alone, could she? Frau Schmidt seemed to agree with her or at least took the action in stride, delivering a warmed bottle to the table about halfway through the meal. Gretl drank greedily when Maria put the nipple to her mouth, and Maria focused on the baby, grateful to have something to distract her from the quiet, awkward meal. The older children had been giving each other significant looks for most of dinner, and Maria suspected they were planning something. Her suspicions merely increased when Louisa excused herself first, but Maria could not do anything about them at the moment. Instead, she focused on burping Gretl.
Once everyone finished eating, Georg disappeared into his study, leaving Maria to supervise bedtime. The oldest four insisted they did not have a bedtime, but at Maria's raised eyebrows, Brigitta spilled the beans. "Marta goes to bed at 7:30, Gretl and me at 8:00, and everyone else at 8:30."
"Thank you, Brigitta," Maria said. "Marta, let's get you ready for bed and then I can read a book." That appeased the small girl who allowed Maria to wash her face, brush her teeth, and put her in clean clothing. She settled the girl in the nursery and read two fairy tales at which point, Marta was nearly asleep. Pleased with her progress, Maria repeated the ritual with Brigitta and Gretl. Gretl fought sleep a bit more than her sisters, but she eventually relaxed, and Maria began to feel more confident in her abilities.
Unfortunately, her success did not continue with the older children. She found them all in the boys' room, their heads bent close together, obviously conspiring together. "It's time to begin preparing for bed," she announced. All four looked at her as if she had two heads. "Perhaps I could read you a book as well once you finish getting ready?" she suggested.
The younger boy looked at her in horror. "We're too old for bedtime stories!"
Maria smiled gently at him. "You're never too old for bedtime stories, Kurt. Especially not at six."
"Well, I am definitely too old," Liesl said.
"Okay, if that is what you want. But I am always happy to read if you change your mind. You should still get ready for bed, however. Bedtime is in half an hour," They exchanged a look, and Maria thought they would object again but then Louisa whispered something to her older sister. Maria was not sure she liked the look on Louisa's face, but when she spoke, she surprisingly acquiesced to Maria's request.
"Okay." Somewhat suspicious, Maria stepped out of the doorway, nodding at Liesl and Louisa to follow to their own room. They did so without complaint, and Maria waited until they closed themselves in their own room before retiring to hers, telling herself she would check on them in fifteen minutes to ensure they were actually preparing themselves for bed. As she closed the door of her room behind her, she took a deep, steadying breath. She had never expected her assignment to be easy. She would simply have to trust that God would help her find a way.
Stepping forward, she pulled the duvet back and let out a small exclamation of surprise when something hopped out. Maria quickly steadied herself, glancing around the room for something to capture the poor creature in. She found a small wash basin on a side table, and she slowly approached the terrified frog, bringing the basin down on top of it. Fortunately, Maria had grown up outdoors, so she had captured her share of frogs and other creatures in her day. She grabbed her Bible from the bedside table, sliding it under the basin and flipping everything over so the frog was inside. Very carefully, she carried the frog out of the room and down the hall to the older girls' room. They were giggling about something inside, but Maria decided not to eavesdrop despite the temptation. Instead, she knocked with her wrist, keeping the frog trapped in the basin. The door opened slowly, and Louisa scowled when she saw Maria standing there. "We are getting ready for bed," she insisted, and she had indeed changed into her nightclothes.
"I am sure," Maria said with a pleasant smile. "But I found something of yours in my room, and I thought you might want him back. I would not want you to lose such a wonderful creature." Louisa's eyes widened in surprise, and Maria stepped forward, forcing the girl to move out of the doorway so she could enter the room. "Do you have a tank for him?" When Louisa didn't respond, Maria glanced around the room, spotting an empty fish tank with a small container of water, some rocks, and leaves in the corner. "Ah, I see it now." Quickly, Maria crossed the room, tipping the frog into its home and closing the lid. Glancing to the side, she saw a second empty tank, and she turned to Louisa with raised eyebrows. "Oh dear, it seems as if you've lost someone else as well. Perhaps I should take this so I can keep an eye out for him." Maria picked up the tank, smiling at Louisa who still seemed unsure what to say. "Unless you have some idea where he might have gone?"
"Uh, no," Louisa said quickly.
"Well, then, perhaps you could let me know the. . . nature of the creature so I know what to look out for?"
"Creatures, actually," Liesl remarked from across the room. "They're spiders, and I for one am glad to have them out of this room. You can feel free to dispose of them however you like." Louisa shot her sister a dark look.
"Spiders. I've always loved animals, too, Louisa. Perhaps you can tell me more about yours tomorrow. In the meantime, I will leave you both to finish preparing for bed while I attempt to find our last runaways." With that, Maria left the room, taking the empty tank with her. Once in the hallway, she sighed. She was not afraid of spiders necessarily, but she still did not particularly want to spend her time trying to oust them from her room. It seemed as if she had no choice however.
Maria found quite a few in the top drawer of the bureau as well as two stragglers in the lower drawer. She checked all around the bureau but found no more and eventually decided that if Louisa had more than Maria had found, they would just have to go back to their tankless existence. It was time to make sure the older children were actually in bed. Maria checked on the girls first, and she found both surprisingly in bed, books open in their laps. "I found your friends," Maria said, keeping her voice cheerful. She set the tank beside the other. "Is there anything else I can do for you girls?"
"No, thank you," Liesl said. Maria noted that the response was automatic. It seemed the children did have some sense of manners after all; Maria would just have to work to bring them out.
"Okay. In that case, lights out in ten minutes please. Goodnight." Maria checked on the boys, finding them also ready for bed, and she breathed an inward sigh of relief. She had expected more battles. Giving the boys the same warning as their sisters, she returned to her own room. Surprisingly, when she walked the hall again in ten minutes, the lights were out under all the children's doors. Satisfied, Maria returned to her room. As she was performing her nightly devotional, Frau Schmidt arrived with the promised fabric and schedule, and Maria set it on a chair with thanks. Perhaps everything would work out after all.