A/N: So this story is going to be a series of one-shots mostly set after Moments of Truth and before my next planned story (which will start at the time of the Anschluss). However, I reserve the right to go back and add scenes during the Moments of Truth timeline if the muse strikes :). I likely will not publish them in order but I will include a date for each one to give an idea of timelines. Unlike Moments of Truth, they will be told from different perspectives, and some may even switch perspectives a time or two (like this one), but it should be fairly obvious when that happens. I do not have everything planned out yet, but I do know there will be at least one per child as well as some focused on Georg's work. There will likely be others as well, including a fair few focused on the Maria/Georg relationship (because I really do love it). We'll see, I suppose. You really should read Moments of Truth before reading most of these though admittedly this first one can pretty much stand on its own as long as you accept that Georg and Maria marry earlier than in the movie. And yes, I am still working on Moments of Truth but I needed to get a couple of these out of my head.

This one was inspired by my own children to whom I have read/played the audiobook of at least three different versions of King Arthur in the past month. It is focused on Brigitta though Maria and Georg play a large role as well.

Knight in Shining Armor (February 1935)

Georg felt two small arms wrap around his neck and four legs squeeze his sides, and he considered just what he had done to put himself in the current situation. He supposed it had started two weeks before when Maria had been looking for a new book to read to the children that they all (or at least the oldest five) would enjoy. It was a tall order, for his children's taste in literature clearly reflected their very diverse personalities, but after some consideration, he pulled down The Boy's King Arthur, figuring that it would have enough battles and adventure to appeal to his sons and Louisa while still containing enough romance for Liesl (who was much too interested in such things as far as he was concerned) and the fairy tale elements Brigitta would enjoy. He also reasoned that it would be good to expose the children to more famous English works—as proud as he was of his Austrian heritage, he did not want them to forget their birth mother's English heritage.

Maria, as always, embraced the idea wholeheartedly, declaring that not only would they read the book, but they would use it as an opportunity to study medieval England and the English language. The oldest three children were fairly fluent in English, and Kurt and Brigitta were nearly conversational, but Maria felt that everyone could know more. To set an example, she decided that she would learn with them, for she had only ever learned a few hymns in the language and the few phrases she had picked up during their visit to England the previous year. She had enlisted Georg as their tutor, asking in such a way that he simply could not deny her, especially since she had requested private lessons in addition to the ones with their children—lessons which rarely included vocabulary one would use in everyday conversation but which they nevertheless enjoyed.

And so in the past two weeks, much of the villa had been transformed into a medieval English castle. Georg had drawn the line at Kurt's suggestion that they dig a moat around it but somehow had found himself agreeing to large towers built out of packing crates Maria had somehow acquired, fake swords, and the near-constant wearing of armor by both his sons—except at dinner, for Georg felt he had to maintain some discipline. He found himself constantly looking around corners before he walked into rooms in case a child or two were waiting on the other side to do battle. On top of that, Kurt and Louisa had figured out how to make rudimentary bows the previous day, so Georg now had to watch out for distance weapons as well. He did not think he had been so alert to possible attack even when on a submarine.

So when Brigitta had invited two friends over to play that morning, it was unsurprising that they had decided to act out one of the King Arthur stories she loved so much. At breakfast, Kurt, Marta, and Friedrich had decided to join them, Kurt even agreeing to play the dragon (a role that had previously fallen to Georg). As they were playing, Kurt had spotted the arrow slits on one of the castles in their book. He had come to Georg for an explanation of their purpose before deciding to replicate them in one of their towers. Friedrich and Marta had joined him, leaving Brigitta and her friends to play alone. Georg had not thought much of it until he heard a second knock on his study door. Forcing his brief flash of annoyance aside, he looked up to see Brigittta and her friends standing there. "Yes?" he asked.

"We don't have enough people anymore for the full story," Brigitta explained. "Mother is busy helping with the arrow slits, so I thought you might join us."

Georg glanced down at the papers he had been reviewing, submarine plans that his contacts had sent him to look over. He had mostly finished the task, and he was beginning to get a bit cross-eyed from staring at them so long. A break would not be completely unwelcome though as much as he loved his children, playing a dragon for them to battle was not what he had in mind for his break. "As a dragon?" he asked, resigning himself to his fate.

"Actually, we already passed that part of the story," Brigitta said brightly. "We just need someone to play Sir Gawain." Georg's eyebrows rose.

"Do you already have your Green Knight?"

"Oh, we already did that story last week. We're making up our own now." Georg had to admit—he was intrigued. Though all of his children had active imaginations, Brigitta's was far more sophisticated than he expected at her age. She was often the leader in the children's imaginative play, crafting elaborate stories for them to act. He was curious what she might do with Arthurian legend.

"Lead the way," he said, standing and bowing slightly as he gestured for the girls to go first. Brigitta's friends giggled, but his daughter simply gave him a brilliant smile before taking his hand and pulling him up to the playroom.

She had not mentioned, however, that he would be playing both horse and knight, and he found he much preferred the latter role. At the moment, however, they required his equine services, so he had submitted to having both Brigitta's friends climb on his back so he could "gallop" with them to safety while Brigitta stayed behind to distract their pursuers—a variety of clothing she had hung on various objects to create surprisingly realistic shadow figures. Georg had managed to follow the plot for a short period, but it had become muddled in his head once a second princess entered the picture—for apparently Brigitta's friends could not agree on who should play that part. Brigitta, too, seemed slightly annoyed that her friends' disagreement was ruining her story, but she gamely added the second princess, even coming up with a backstory to explain her appearance.

As one of the girls shifted her weight on his back, Georg felt a twinge of pain and decided that his back would not hold up to much longer as an equine. "Okay, girls, I think once we're around this hill, it will be time for the horse to rest," Georg remarked, bouncing them a couple more times before stilling so they could climb off his back. The giggling girls joined Brigitta who had succeeded in knocking over the majority of their "enemies."

"That was fun!" one of the girls exclaimed.

"My father would never do anything like that with me," the other added. Georg was not surprised by that statement—he imagined that most of his peers would be surprised to hear that he regularly engaged in imaginative play with his children. He had not always done so—even when Agathe was still alive, though he was certainly more present with his children than he had been immediately following her death, he had kept his activities limited to those which he considered becoming of a man of his station. He had taught them to swim, for example, and he would build the occasional model ship with his sons or help with homework. But he had not played with them. And as much as Agathe loved them and doted on them, she had not done so either. They had both been raised in a society which held tightly to the belief "But when I became a man, I put away childish things." Play was one of those childish things.

However, when Maria had waltzed into his life, all of that had changed. She had played with the children from the very beginning, and as he had started to grow closer to them, she had convinced him to join them as well. He likely would have protested, but she had made changes so gradually—asking him to hold up a prop or appear briefly as a monster at first before slowly increasing his role—that he had not even really noticed what she was doing until he found himself fully immersed in some scenario. And he had to admit that he enjoyed it more than he expected. However, what had kept him playing was not that enjoyment but rather the smiles on his children's faces and the way that they would often throw themselves into his arms during the play. He could not deny it had brought him closer to the children.

Be that as it may, he did not particularly want the upper classes speculating about his play with his children. He was trying to figure out a tactful way to ask the girls not to discuss it when Brigitta interrupted his thoughts. "Well, that's why Father is the best," Brigitta told her friends, wrapping her arms around his middle. Georg hugged her back, realizing suddenly that there were far more important things in life than what his peers thought of his habits. He had always been considered somewhat of an eccentric anyway, even before he had married Maria. "Can you read the book before you have to go back to work?" Brigitta asked. Georg did not have to ask which book she meant. He checked his watch and found they still had some time before lunch, likely enough for him to finish a story as well as the submarine plans.

"I can manage that," he agreed, much to the delight of the three girls. Brigitta retrieved the book from its place of honor on the shelf, thumbing through it until she found the story she wanted. She and both her friends gathered around eagerly as Georg opened the book. He read the story she had chosen, ensuring he did the voices his children loved so much. When he finished, one of Brigitta's friends was frowning.

"My sister says there are no such things as knights in shining armor, that all men are cads and it's best to avoid them." Georg wondered briefly what had happened to leave her sister so jaded but knew better than to press.

"Well, I think there are knights," Brigitta protested immediately.

"Where?"

"Right here." Brigitta leaned over, grabbing onto Georg's arm and hugging it tightly.

"I mean real knights. The kind that fight dragons and rescue princesses. Not just men who have some silly award and get a title from the Emperor."

"It is not a silly award. It means that my father is brave and honorable and if there was a dragon or some other beast, I'm sure he would rescue us in a heartbeat. Plus, he swept Mother off her feetl" Brigitta hugged his arm more tightly, staring defiantly at her friends. "I don't care what you say—he's my knight!" The words touched Georg more than he had expected. Of course, he knew his children loved him and since Maria had waltzed into their lives, he had even heard them express the sentiment quite often. But it was one thing to have his children tell him they loved him and something quite different to have them display that love so readily.

Georg swung her up into his arms, holding her close as he told her, "I am certainly your knight, my lady. And I will always be ready to battle dragons for you." As they hugged, Georg imprinted that moment in his memory. He knew that Brigitta would inevitably grow up, that she would face her share of dragons as she forged her path in life. He also knew, though he did not like acknowledging the fact, that one day, she would find a knight other than him to battle those dragons. He just hoped it would be a knight worthy of her affections.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxx

Brigitta's friends told some others in her class about playing King Arthur with her father, and they told others, and, as often happened in Brigitta's class, it did not take long for the entire class to know about their fantasy play. By the end of the day after her playdate, she was fielding multiple requests for additional playdates, a situation that she was not quite sure how to deal with. Brigitta had always preferred to have one or two close friends and had never desired to be the popular person in school. It seemed, however, that all it took was her father playing with a couple classmates for her to find popularity.

Brigitta did not like refusing anyone's request to play, but she also knew her parents would not appreciate a never-ending stream of children arriving for playdates. She tried to put off her classmates by explaining that her father playing with them was likely a one-time thing, that she could not guarantee he would even be at home if they came over, much less willing to pretend to be a horse/knight. However, one of them had asked if he had played with her before, and she could not lie, so that argument had quickly lost its effectiveness. Eventually, she had promised to ask her parents.

Unfortunately, she had not had a chance to ask that night. Her father was deeply involved in work again, spending long hours in his study. Brigitta knew enough to realize that meant he would be leaving soon. And if he was leaving soon, her mother would be worrying and trying not to show it to the children, leaving her more distracted than usual. Brigitta sometimes wondered why her mother worried so much when her father left to lecture. She had tried to question Maria about it once, but Maria had simply informed her that she preferred to have her husband close. Though Brigitta was sure it was a truthful answer, she also knew there was more to the story than that. However, it was clear Maria did not want to talk about it, and Brigitta respected her wishes.

As expected, Brigitta's father announced his imminent departure at breakfast the next morning, assuring the children it would be a relatively quick trip. Brigitta tried to smile, but the truth was, she did not like his trips any more than Maria did. She did not worry like her mother, but she did miss her father. Brigitta did try to talk to her parents before her father left, but when she approached the study and saw their fierce embrace through the crack in the doorway, she knew they would not welcome the interruption and left them to their goodbyes. Therefore, for the next three days, Brigitta continued to fend off inquiries, finding, much to her relief, that they did start dwindling as people found other things on which to focus. She had not even thought of the playdate at all on the third day when events suddenly brought it back to the forefront of her mind.

Brigitta was leaving school, her eyes searching the cars, and they widened in surprise when she saw her mother standing next to the Mercedes, a wide smile on her face. "Mother!" Brigitta called, rushing to Maria and embracing her fiercely. "Why are you here?"

"I had a few errands to run in town, and it seemed silly to make Franz drive me back to the villa before turning around immediately to pick up all of you."

"Am I the first one here?" Brigitta glanced around her mother to see if any of her siblings were in the car.

"You are, but I am certain the others will be around shortly."

"Excuse me, are you this girl's mother?" a sharp voice suddenly cut in, and Brigitta and Maria both turned to see a dark-haired woman glaring at them. Though Brigitta did not recognize her, she did recognize the girl standing next to her tugging on the woman's arm urgently.

"Yes, I am. I don't believe we've met." Brigitta had always marveled at how her mother could remain calm and seemingly unaffected no matter what people said. She remembered how nasty people had been during her parents' engagement and after they were married—though she was not sure exactly what people were saying, she had seen how angry her father had been and Liesl had told her that people were spreading lies about their parents. Despite everything, however, Maria had rarely gotten upset and had, at least from what Brigitta saw, treated everyone with kindness. Brigitta did not think she could do the same.

"And your husband is Captain von Trapp?"

"Yes, I am Maria von Trapp." Maria held out a hand, but the woman ignored it.

"Do you know what your husband has been doing?"

"I'm sorry?"

"My daughter went over to your house a few days ago." Maria looked down at the girl, giving her a wide smile.

"Of course. Rebekah, isn't it?"

"She came home and told me the most fantastic story about her time there. Apparently, your husband decided to play with the children—and I am not talking about checkers either. No, Rebekah tells me he actually got down on his hands and knees and pretended to be a horse so they could ride him. Can you imagine? A grown man? And now she is asking my husband and I to play with her in the same way. Have you ever stopped to think about what kind of example he is setting for your children with such undignified behavior?" Maria opened her mouth to speak, but the other woman had not finished her tirade yet. "At first, I did not believe Rebekah. I simply could not imagine Captain von Trapp lowering himself to such debauchery—he is always so composed and refined in public, the perfect gentleman. But then I heard from Ruth Weimer that her daughter told her the same story, so I assume it must be true. I can't-"

Brigitta had finally had enough. Though she normally did not like talking to strangers, she loved her father and could not abide anyone speaking ill of him. "He was playing King Arthur with us because I asked him to! And he was not just a horse, he was Sir Gawain, the noblest of knights of the Round Table. But he doesn't have to pretend to be him because he's even more noble than Sir Gawain! And if that bothers you, then I think you're just. . . just. . . ignorant!" Brigitta sensed a bit of tension leave her mother's body as she finished the sentence. The woman gasped, placing a hand to her heart in a gesture that even Brigitta, at not quite seven-years-old, knew was overly dramatized.

"I will not be spoken to in that way by a child! Rebekah will never be allowed at your house again!"

"Good because I was not going to invite her again."

The woman's eyes snapped to Maria, narrowing dangerously. "This is what becomes of marrying beneath you. I cannot imagine Captain von Trapp would have even considered stooping to such a level before he met you!"

Maria looked suddenly tired. She motioned to someone behind the woman, and Brigitta craned her neck to see all four of her siblings watching the scene with open-mouthed horror. "And I cannot imagine you have ever even considered enjoying your children's childhoods. Good day to you." With that, she opened the door of the car, motioning all the children to enter. They slid in quickly, and Franz drove away with the woman still gaping after them. Once they had put some distance between themselves and the school, Brigitta finally looked up at her mother. "What is debauchery?" she questioned, curious.

Maria snorted slightly. "Completely the wrong word for the situation. We will talk about it when we get home." Brigitta recognized that Maria was putting her off because she needed time to process what had just happened, so she fell silent, turning her attention to the passing scenery.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxx

Georg arrived home the night after the incident at the school. Maria had just finished putting the children to bed, so he went to them to say goodnight still in his traveling clothes before changing and joining Maria in his study. Maria had already poured them both drinks; though she had poured soda for herself, she was contemplating his whiskey, wondering if she needed something stronger. "You're tense," he observed as soon as he entered. "Did something happen?"

"You could say that." He sat beside her on the sofa, placing his hands on her shoulders as he began to knead her taut muscles. Maria purred in appreciation, leaning into his touch. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure, Darling. What happened? Did the children give you trouble?"

"No, they were actually quite well-behaved, even more so than usual—and that is saying something since they generally only have minor transgressions."

"So something else then."

"I hear you played King Arthur with Brigitta and her friends when they were here a few days ago. Apparently, you were a horse."

"She asked me to play Sir Gawain but did not mention that the role included his horse as well. Clever girl." His hands dropped lower, massaging her upper back. "But you are changing the topic."

"Actually, I am not." Maria took a deep breath, turning to face him, for she wanted to see his reaction when she told him what had happened. She had finally mostly grown accustomed to the rumors about her and how she was most unsuited for him and had likely tricked him into marrying her somehow (the exact method tended to vary). Though they still bothered her a bit, after many assurances from him about how he fell in love with her for who she was, she could mostly ignore them with her head held high. The current accusation, however, was the first time anyone had accused her of changing him for the worse (she did not count her mother-in-law's accusation that she made him reckless since she knew he was not truly reckless and that was a part of him long before she knew him). And though she had truly believed at the time that his involvement in the children's play was best for everyone, she still did not know much about the upper class and wondered if perhaps she should have been less insistent. "The mother of one of Brigitta's friends cornered us outside of school today. She was most upset that you had lowered yourself to playing with the children, going so far as to call it 'debauchery.'"

His eyebrows rose. "And what did you say to that?"

"Truthfully, I was too frozen to say anything. Your daughter did not have that problem, however. She rose to your defense quite admirably. You would have been proud, Georg. Apparently, you're her Sir Gawain."

Georg gave a small smile. "She said something of the sort the other day. I just hope she continues to think that for quite some time. I am not ready for her to notice other boys." His eyes searched Maria's face for a moment. "You're still bothered by this encounter. I thought we had talked about just ignoring what they say about us since we know it is not true."

"That was when they were simply making up stories about me. But now they're talking about you. And it is true that I convinced you to play with the children in that way—you told me yourself you never would have done such a thing when they were younger."

"Just because I would not have done it when they was younger does not make it wrong."

"But don't you worry about what they're saying about you, that they're accusing you of such awful things?"

"It would not be the first time I've been accused of debauchery," he said lightly. "And it's far less warranted now." He grinned at her, but she could not bring herself to return the grin. He sighed, the smile slipping from his face. Reaching out, he grabbed her hands in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss. "You're quite worried about these accusations, aren't you?" he asked.

"I just worry that maybe she's right. That I have. . . I don't know, corrupted is the wrong word. Perhaps influenced you to take a path that will make you a social outcast?"

"I have never been much for conforming," Georg told her.

"But when I met you, you were so. . . aristocratic."

He snorted. "You say that like an insult, you know."

Maria tugged her hand from his to give him a light slap on his shoulder. "You know what I mean."

"Maria, I have always been somewhat of a rebel. You can ask any of my former instructors or naval commanders if you do not believe me. Can I turn on the charm and behave exactly as society expects a titled gentleman to behave? Yes, I was raised to do just that, and I am quite good at it. But you helped me to realize that I do not want to do that all the time. I like to be a bit different, to push the envelope somewhat. Hell, the Emperor gave me a medal because of that behavior. So perhaps it comes out a bit more around you. I do not consider that a bad thing. In fact, I think it goes to show just how well you are suited for me since I can be myself with you, no pretenses needed."

"So you do not mind what she said about you?"

"Mind? Truthfully, I'm considering acquiescing to Friedrich's request that we all don armor and stage a jousting tournament with real horses. And we can invite all of Salzburg." Maria laughed then, and he leaned forward, kissing her soundly before placing one hand against her cheek. "My love, you make me a better father, a better husband, and a better man. If others cannot see that, then they are blinded by their own prejudices. I love you for who you are and who I am with you." He leaned forward, kissing her again, longer and deeper this time. When he pulled away, he slid his hand down her cheek, fingering the first button of her blouse.

"What are you doing?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly.

"Engaging in some debauchery." With that, he pressed his lips to hers and they spoke no words for quite some time.

Two days later, Maria was once more reading a story from The Boy's King Arthur before bed. Truthfully, as much as she enjoyed the stories, she was starting to wonder just how long the obsession would last, for she was growing a bit tired of them. As she closed the book and leaned over to kiss the youngest three goodnight, Brigitta asked, "Mother?"

"Yes, my dear?" The young girl looked anxious, and Maria wondered if she was still worried about the comments she had overheard at school. Maria and Georg had talked to her together about them, and she had assured them both that she was not bothered by what the woman had said, but perhaps time had changed her opinion.

"Do you think they were real? Merlin and Arthur and all the rest?"

Maria settled down in the chair beside Brigitta's bed, considering her answer. Brigitta was at an awkward age—she was still young enough to believe in fairy tales but old enough and intelligent enough to realize that they often defied logic. "I think that the tales were likely based on true events but include elements of fiction," Maria finally replied.

"Like magic."

"Mmm, perhaps."

"Did magic actually exist?"

"It is a good question," Maria said, mulling over her answer for a moment. "I think that it depends on what you mean by magic. The illusions that Merlin performs and the tricks, those were probably not real. But I do believe that God performs miracles and that those could appear to be magic, especially to someone who does not yet know God. And I believe there is a certain magic in everyday life—in the love of family, for example, or the birth of a child."

"Or in bringing peace to a land formerly at war," Brigitta said, obviously recalling more of the Arthurian legend. Her voice was starting to grow sleepy.

"Yes, I believe many would agree that Arthur worked his own form of magic."

"Legend says he will come back if we need him again," Brigitta remarked. "He's 'The Once and Future King'." She was quiet for a moment, and Maria started to stand, thinking she had fallen asleep. However, before Maria could leave, she spoke once more. "I think we will need him again soon," she said. "Father says the world is changing rapidly and there are a lot of people that are angry with each other. I think he's worried there might be another great war."

"What makes you say that?"

"He's worried a lot now, especially when he reads the paper."

Brigitta truly did notice everything. "I think that perhaps you should discuss your concerns with your father at a later time. Right now, it's bedtime." Maria leaned over, kissing her forehead once more, but before she could leave, Brigitta had one final question.

"Do you think he will come back?"

"Who?"

"Arthur."

"I think that God has a way of providing great heroes when the world needs them most."

"Like Father." The insight was closer to the truth than Maria had expected, and she startled, wondering just how much Brigitta had deduced. But when she looked back at the young girl, she saw that her eyes had finally closed fully, and her face had relaxed in sleep.

"Yes," Maria whispered, smoothing Brigitta's dark hair from her forehead, "heroes like your father."