The cold drizzle that had been falling since Georg woke up that morning reflected his current mood quite well, he mused as he stepped carefully up to the gravesite, an umbrella open over his head. He glanced at the wooden casket in front of him, waiting to be lowered into the ground, and wondered once more at the cruelty of the world. Having survived years in the Naval Academy, Georg thought himself immune to horror. But looking at the casket next to a freshly dug hole, just a few feet from the bare ground of another fresh grave, Georg realized that the trials he had faced in the academy had not completely removed all his emotion, no matter how much he felt like that sometimes.

A squeeze of his upper arm directed his attention to the beautiful, platinum blond who clung to him as if afraid she herself would fall in the grave if she let go. Elsa Schrader was, as always, resplendent, even in black. Georg did not think he had ever seen her look anything other than glamorous. It was one of the first things that attracted him to her, for Elsa was exactly the type of woman a man of his station was supposed to court. With the family wealth they both possessed and her father's title, they were the perfect couple, a fact many had remarked upon since they began seeing each other three months prior.

The voice of the priest brought Georg's attention back to the service, and he watched as the man said the blessing and the pallbearers stepped forward to lower the casket into the ground. The casket which contained the body of his sister—ironically the one person who had not approved of his courtship of Elsa. He could practically hear her voice in his ear now, exclaiming, "She's completely wrong for you, Georg. She makes you into a starched aristocrat."

"But, Hede, I am a starched aristocrat," he had tried to protest.

She shook a finger at him. "Not to me. I still remember the little boy who let me dress him up as a princess and who used to build elaborate water palaces for his growing collection of tadpoles."

Georg had colored at her words. "I'm not that boy anymore, Hede. I haven't been that boy in a long time." And indeed, four years at the naval academy and four years afterwards clawing his way up through the ranks just as everyone expected of him had changed him in ways his sister could never have imagined. He fell into the role society expected of him more easily than he expected. But then, his father had trained him for it from birth.

Georg sensed movement nearby and noted that the attendees were moving to toss a handful of dirt on the coffin. Georg stepped forward to do the same, reaching down and inadvertently touching another's hand as he did so. He paused, looking up into a face so like his sister's. He hated himself for it, but it took a moment for Georg to put a name to the face. Louisa. Hede's third eldest and the one that, according to the many letters Hede had written to him about her children over the years, had a personality the closest to Hede's. The girl immediately pulled back as if burned, grabbing a handful of dirt from a few feet away and tossing it quickly onto the coffin before turning back to her siblings. Georg watched them for a moment, ticking off the names in his head. Liesl was the eldest, already quite tall for a nine-year-old with dirty blond hair and delicate features he was sure would turn the head of many a suitor in a few years. Friedrich stood next to her, his foot scuffing the dirt, his white-blond hair falling down messily over his blue eyes. At seven, he was still quite young, much too young to have lost both parents already. They were all too young for that.

Louisa was next at six, then Kurt at nearly four. Kurt was not quite a carbon-copy of his brother, for Friedrich shared many features with his father while Kurt was closer in appearance to his mother, but they were similar enough that no one could mistake them for anything but brothers. Next, there was Brigitta, the only of Hede's children to inherit the darker complexion Georg shared with many other von Trapps—though not his sister. She was two, still clinging to the skirts of a woman that Georg assumed was a nanny, staring wide-eyed at the proceedings. In front of the nanny sat a double pram which Georg imagined held the youngest of his nieces—the twins, Gretl and Marta, just three months old.

Once all of the children had said their goodbyes, the nanny ushered them away to a waiting car. Georg watched them go out of the corner of his eye though most of his attention stayed on the grave in front of him. He wondered what would happen to them now. He was sure Hede had made provisions, for she loved her children too much to leave their care up to chance, but he could not think of what those provisions might be. They had no close living relatives; both of their parents had died a couple years before and, though there might be a stray cousin here or there, they never had much contact with other members of their family while young. Perhaps Robert, Hede's husband, had a relative who would take them. That would make the most sense.

As the last of the mourners left, Georg knew he could not stay any longer. Already, he could feel Elsa shifting in impatience beside him though she was too well-bred to ask to leave. "Come," he finally told her, patting her hand. "I will take you back to your villa and then I need to attend a meeting with Hede's solicitor about the will."

She nodded. "Will you be returning tonight?"

"Yes though I will most likely be late." Since Georg's own home was in Aigen, outside Salzburg, he had been staying with Elsa while in Vienna for the funeral.

"I will make sure the staff refreshes the guest room you stayed in last night. Unless. . ." She trailed off, but he knew what she was asking. He shook his head. His emotions were still too raw from the last few days, and as tempting as it was to lose himself in carnal pleasure, he could not do that to Elsa.

"I would not want to wake you." She knew there was more to it than that, but she nevertheless accepted the excuse with her usual grace. He handed her into the car, driving her back to her sprawling villa where he left her with a quick kiss and a promise to return that night before turning the car in the direction of the solicitor's office.

He found Hede's solicitor already waiting along with a couple who looked to be a few years younger than him as well as an older woman. He did not recognize the other people and assumed they were Robert's family. Giving a polite nod, he sat in the remaining empty chair, turning his attention to the solicitor as he began to read the will. The initial sections were mostly what he expected—though Robert's family seemed somewhat surprised, especially when the solicitor revealed that all their money would be split between the younger couple, who turned out to be Robert's brother and sister-in-law, and the older woman, who was his mother. Georg, however, had known about the provision and had even encouraged its inclusion when his sister wrote the will after their parents' death. Hede had married for love, not money, and though Robert made a decent salary as a doctor, they had nowhere near the wealth Georg had inherited as sole heir to the von Trapp estate. He had tried to split his parent's money with Hede after their deaths, for he felt it was unfair that they cut her out of the will after her marriage, but she had refused. Eventually, they had settled on a compromise—he gave her the dowry she had never received and she agreed not to include him in her own will except to pass on a few family trinkets of no particular value.

Georg could feel the other three people giving him surreptitious looks, obviously trying to gauge his reaction. He gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but apparently he did not give assurance enough, for the older woman stopped the solicitor and asked, "I'm sorry, are you sure there's nothing included for. . . I don't think I ever got your name, young man."

"Georg," Georg told her, holding out a hand. "Georg von Trapp. Hede was my sister." The others all shook his hand, muttering their condolences which he returned. As they talked about how much they had loved having Hede as part of the family, Georg felt a pang of regret that he had not made more of an effort to stay in touch with his sister in recent years. They had been quite close when he was a young boy, for she had provided the maternal attention he did not get from their mother, but Georg had gone to boarding school at ten and then into the Navy. After that, Georg had retreated into himself and not particularly wanted to let anyone close. Hede had eloped with Robert soon after Georg had left for school, infuriating their parents, and Georg had started distancing himself, telling himself that he was protecting her, that he simply did not wish to pull her into his dark world, especially after she had found her happiness. Though there was some truth to that, the full truth was, as always, more nuanced. He also had not wanted her to pull him into her world, the world where she could easily defy their parents'—and society's—expectations. He had worked hard to push aside the rebellious side of himself, and though he still had his moments, he generally kept them to those that would be accepted by his peers. Hede had always brought out another side of him—the rule-bending, mischievous, even slightly wild side. Of course, he had written letters and even visited on some holidays, but their relationship had turned quite formal.

"Surely there is something for Georg," Robert's mother said.

"It is fine," Georg assured her. "I do not expect anything."

"She was your sister. I cannot imagine she forgot you. Look again, please."

The solicitor raised his eyebrows but was wise enough not to contradict her. "I was actually just getting to that part," he said simply. He looked back at the will and began to read again, listing the trinkets that Hede had mentioned. Georg simply nodded, keeping his eyes on the lawyer instead of Robert's family since he was sure that they were still confused by the perceived inequity. Robert was English, so Georg supposed it was not surprising that his family had not heard the von Trapp name, but he was a little surprised Robert had never told them about their wealth. Perhaps there had been some resentment.

"And finally, custody of Liesl, Friedrich, Louisa, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta, and Gretl Pauling goes to one Georg von Trapp." Four sets of eyes snapped up to look at the solicitor, and Georg felt the color draining from his face. They had given custody of the children tohim? What had Hede been thinking? She knew he did not want children. He had no paternal leanings whatsoever. "I have a letter for each of you here as well, explaining the decision." He held out three envelopes, and Georg took his without saying anything. He felt the eyes of the others on him still, obviously now more confused than ever. It was, after all, highly unconventional for a couple to leave all of their children but no money to a family member. Finally, Robert's mother, who Georg was learning was the outspoken one of the group, cleared her throat.

"You are. . . absolutely certain that is what it says?"

"I am. Like I said, your letters should explain everything."

"Of course."

The solicitor stacked the papers together neatly, glancing around the office a final time. "I am sorry for your loss. If I can be of further assistance, please let me know." All four muttered thanks before leaving the office. They hesitated in the hallway, and Georg could sense they had more to say to him.

"The children," Robert's mother finally remarked. "I would like to continue to see them. . . not immediately, of course, I know they will need time to settle. But one day."

"Yes, of course. We should exchange contact information." Georg felt numb, his mind still reeling from the events of the past few minutes. Mechanically, he recited his address and phone number before writing down contact information for his brother-in-law's family. They finally bid him a somewhat awkward farewell, telling him to reach out if he needed any help with the children. Georg realized suddenly that he was expected to go to those children now, to take them—where? He certainly could not take them to Elsa's house; she was even less fond of children than he was. He would need a hotel, one with enough space for the eight of them. Or perhaps nine? Maybe he could convince the nanny he had seen to come with him, at least for a little while, to ease the transition.

Georg took a deep breath and let it out slowly, realizing his thoughts were spiralling out of control. He had faced difficult situations before. Strategy, that was the key. He just needed to think strategically. That was something he could do. He would inquire at the nearest hotels first, secure rooms, and then he could see to the children.

With a plan in place, Georg strode out of the room, once more firmly in control.

SOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOMSOM

Maria Ranier knew she was impulsive; she had long ago accepted that fact and worked hard to find ways around it, forcing herself to take time to reason through decisions. Still, there were times when she could not stop her instincts, and on the current occasion, she was not sure she should. Instead, she let her feet carry her backwards through her small apartment, away from the door and whatever it might conceal behind it. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to run, and given the sounds outside her door, she suspected there was a good reason for her instincts. She reached the back window, glancing out at the darkened street below. She was on the second story, so the drop was not too far, but she suspected it could injure her which might stop her from running. She needed to find a way to descend slowly.

A quick, desperate look around provided a possible solution. It was not ideal, but Maria supposed that nothing about the current situation could be called ideal. With a glance back at the door, which was mercifully still shut, she slid open the window as quietly as she could and threw a leg over the ledge. She groped with her foot, and for a few breathless moments, she felt only air, but eventually, she placed her toes on something solid. Sliding them forward as much as possible, Maria eased her other leg out the window, holding the ledge tightly with her fingers as she lowered herself to the narrow brick ledge that ran about 30 centimeters under her window. Carefully, she began to make her way along the ledge, thankful that she was prone to long hikes in the mountains, sometimes including sections of climbing, and was thus in relatively good shape. She had to leave the window open which she knew would give a clue about her escape route, but she had no other option. She simply prayed that by the time the intruder forced his way into her apartment, she would be far enough away that he could not follow.

Her foot collided with something metallic, and the clang sounded preternaturally loud in the still night air. Still praying fervently, Maria gripped the downspout with both of her hands and used it to lower herself to the ground. Fortunately, it held her weight, and she soon felt the hard concrete under her feet. As soon as she was on solid ground, she broke into a run, making her way toward the woods she knew bordered the edge of town. Fortunately, she was quite familiar with the woods, even in the dark, for she had spent a good deal of time in them when she was feeling restless. However, she had never entered them in quite so stressful of circumstances.

Maria's eyes had adjusted to the darkness by the time she was fully surrounded by trees, and she soon found the deer trail she often used when in the woods. She followed it as quickly as she dared, pausing from time to time to listen for any other footsteps. Each time she heard none, she breathed a bit easier though she did not fully relax. She still had no idea who had been at her apartment door or why, and that meant she was not sure if she was safe.

It took nearly two hours for the trees to begin to thin again, and she soon found herself in a familiar meadow. The moon was still high in the sky, and Maria knew based on how long she had been travelling that it was likely the middle of the night. She found an area where something—likely deer—had trampled the tall grass down and took a seat, considering her options. She had travelled through the woods before and knew that the path eventually came out on a road which led to small suburb of Vienna, but it would be a few hours until she reached that point, certainly longer than returning the way she had come. The way she had come, however, had whatever danger she had faced in her apartment. That realization, along with the fact that no buses or trains ran in the middle of the night anyway, made her decision for her. She would continue on to the next town and then take a bus as far away as she could. There was nothing left for her in Vienna anyway.

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon when she finally reached the outskirts of the town where she was going. Her feet were tired, but she was feeling more at peace than she had felt all night. She ducked into a park on the outskirts of town, pulling her money out of an interior pocket of her skirt, suddenly grateful that her apartment was in a rather dangerous part of Vienna where she did not dare leave money at home. Her former apartment, she supposed, for there was no chance she was returning. She counted the money quickly, biting her lip as she considered her options. She needed food, for she had not managed to grab any in her hasty departure from the apartment, but she also wanted to make sure she had enough money for bus fare. Actually, she thought as she reconsidered, for two bus fares. She did not want to go to her final destination from the first bus station just in case whoever had come after her tried to follow her—she was not sure why she thought the person would, but she could not shake the feeling that she needed to be as careful as possible. With that thought in mind, she carefully counted out enough money for a simple breakfast and lunch, placed it one pocket and then returned the rest of the money to its original location. She spied a small bakery a block or so down the road and headed in that direction, grateful when she found it already open. After a couple quick purchases, she headed to another park where she quickly ate her meager breakfast before going to the bus station.

Maria managed to secure tickets on a bus that was leaving in ten minutes. It was not going as far as she wished, but she reasoned that she had been planning to take a second bus anyway and the tickets were not as expensive as she had expected. She chose a seat near the window, staring out at the passing scenery. She reached her destination mid-morning and disembarked, quickly finding a market to add to her food stores. Upon returning to the bus station, she counted out the money she had left and scanned the fares, trying to find the furthest destination she could reach. "Salzburg," she muttered to herself, seeing the name near the bottom of the chart. "I suppose that is as good as any." She handed the man at the counter her money, taking the ticket he offered her. By evening, she would be far away from Vienna and all the memories it held. She only hoped it was far enough.

A/N: Yes, I am still working on the Moment series and will likely have another couple chapters published in the next 2-3 days, but I have had a variety of ideas distracting me, and after starting a bunch of different stories, I finally managed to combine most of them into a single story so that it's easier for me to finish. As you can probably tell already, this is very A/U for a variety of reasons:

1. The children are Georg's nieces and nephews, not his children. I really wanted to explore the idea of having Maria help him come to love them instead of just finding them again like he does in the movie. It will be a more difficult transition but will lend itself to a lot of good M/G interaction. This is the idea that I am most excited about since I haven't found anything quite like it on the site before.

2. This is set earlier than the movie because I wanted to explore what it was like to have Georg go to war and have some ideas for plots around that. Specifically, this chapter is set in 1912 though it is more of a prologue than anything. After this point, I plan to jump forward to 1913. This chapter does have two perspectives since I wanted to give some background for both Maria and Georg but future chapters will be told from only one perspective, likely alternating between Maria and Georg though I may bring another character in from time to time.

3. Given the earlier time period, Georg is a lot younger and fairly close in age to Maria. Yes, I know his sister was not that much older than him in real life (and he had a brother, too), but I wanted to still have all seven children in the story and could not really make timelines work without the age difference. It actually works somewhat to my advantage because it explains the almost maternal relationship Georg has with his sister.

4. As you can probably tell, Maria has the darker past here (though Georg will confess his share of secrets as well as the story progresses). I figured I gave Georg the dark secret in the Moments universe so it was only fair to give one to Maria for this.

This story will focus a lot more on relationship building between all parties than Moments of Truth though I do plan to have some action/adventure as well in it. You'll notice I did bring back Elsa in this one, mainly because one thing I realized my other story was missing was the contrast between her and Maria which I think will be fun to explore. Fair warning-though I don't think she's particularly villainous in the movies, simply selfish, this story paints her in a much more negative light so I would not recommend it to any Elsa lovers. I will try to keep this historically accurate like I do in Moments, but I will obviously be inserting new characters into historic events which will change them somewhat.

As always, I own none of the characters or setting.