AN: This can absolutely be read alone, but it's better in my little universe. It would follow "Announcement," if you're interested. This story is AU and does not include the Ausschluss. If I write anything in the future, I'll never promise to be historically accurate or entirely canon compliant.
I own nothing from the Sound of Music or anything/anyone related to it. This is just a work of fiction for entertainment value.
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please consider leaving a comment or review to let me know!
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Georg had meant to spend the afternoon whiling away a bit of time with his new wife—they'd only just celebrated two months of marriage a week or so before—and privately celebrating the news that they'd only just announced to their seven children.
Maria, it seems, was expecting the eighth child that would bring joy and happiness into their household.
As things always seemed wont to do, however, things began to simply get in the way from the moment that they'd decided to sequester themselves away for a while and simply enjoy each other's company. They'd gone for a short walk and, upon returning, there had been a telegram for Georg—something of little importance, really, but enough to distract him temporarily. Then, it had seemed that one thing or another had needed to be seen to, pushing the time closer and closer to the afternoon meal.
Maria, who hadn't eaten well in days, was very much in need of a meal, so the moment that something was available that seemed to appeal to her senses, Georg had insisted that she sit and eat her fill. The children had joined them, of course, and the children, unaware that life had a way of always interrupting the best laid plans of adults, had wanted some of their parents' attention.
Georg had neglected his children very much, in the past. Granted, he'd made sure that they were fed, clothed, and sheltered. He'd made sure that they were receiving a good education, and that they had everything they needed. He hadn't neglected them in that way at all but, following Agathe's death, Georg had emotionally withdrawn from his children.
He had felt like losing Agathe had taken all the light out of his life. He'd felt, for all those years without her, that he was no longer capable of even drawing in a complete breath. He'd been half-suffocating for all the time he'd been without her. He loved his children—he loved them dearly—and, yet, they made him ache, even more, to simply see sparks of Agathe in them. He had avoided them, because they carried the reminder of her and all that he'd lost—all that he would never have again.
Maria had brought light back into his life. She had brought air back into his lungs. She had filled the halls of their home with laughter, and music, and song.
Now, when Georg looked at the seven children that Agathe had created with him and brought into this world, he was able to smile at those signs of her. He was happy to see them. He still ached with the memory, but the ache was good and welcomed. It was a healing ache. He could smile at everything that Agathe had been, and everything she'd gifted to their children, without simply wallowing in the sadness, self-pity, and darkness that he'd felt for so many years, when nothing had mattered to him nearly as much as his own suffering.
And Maria encouraged him to share his memories of Agathe with her, just as he shared with her the children that had been born between them. Agathe was no longer someone not to be mentioned in their home. Instead, she was celebrated. She was remembered. She was kept alive, in many ways, for the children and Georg.
Maria had helped Georg to truly grieve properly.
Georg was ashamed of some of his past actions, but he couldn't go back and change the past. All he could do, now, was to be sure that his children were no longer neglected. For that reason, he and Maria were careful to spend time with the children, giving them the attention that they craved and needed.
In the late afternoon, Georg had called for the doctor and, after the doctor had thoroughly examined Maria and left, it had been time for their evening meal and, then, to enjoy a little time together before the children were put to bed.
Only now were they able to retire and enjoy each other's company. Georg bathed first, under Maria's insistence, while she said a final goodnight to the children. He rested in bed, reading a book. While he waited for her to bathe.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Maria was wearing her nightgown and dressing gown, as she often did. Georg put his book aside and quickly moved from underneath the covers. As he got to his feet, Maria was slipping off her dressing gown and putting it to the side.
There was a spark of something in her eyes—a quick flash of anxiety. Of course, there was. He felt nervous, too. They were so newly married that each thing felt new to them, still. And this was the first night together after discovering that they were adding to their family.
Maria was now the mother of Georg's children, and she loved them dearly and treated them wonderfully. Georg could never have asked for anyone to be more loving of the children than Maria was. Though Georg had become a father many times over, this was the first time that he would do it with Maria carrying his child, and it would be the very first time that Maria would become a mother in this way.
He tried to remind himself, frequently, that Maria was young—sometimes, she seemed so very young—and so many things that were not new to him at all were quite new to her. Sometimes, he dealt with flashes of guilt for that. He worried that he had no business taking a wife that was not that much older than his oldest daughter. He pushed that guilt out of his mind, however, as quickly as he could, each time it rose up in him.
He loved Maria. He loved her with his entire heart and soul. He was certain that there was no man on the Earth that could possibly love her more than he did.
And he could—and would—care for her, always. He knew how precious she was. He understood, well, what it was to lose someone you loved enough that it felt like losing a part of yourself—worse, even, because Georg would have gladly given any part of himself to save Agathe—and he would value Maria accordingly, knowing that he'd been graciously granted a second opportunity to experience profound love.
He smiled at her, warmly, as he approached her. She smiled back at him. If it hadn't been because he knew her so well, already, he wouldn't have known that she was nervous. He saw it, though, in the slightest crease between her brows. He saw the spark of anxiety in her eyes. He noticed the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
He brushed his fingers gently over her cheek, hoping to soothe away her worry.
"Tell me, my love, would it make the night easier if I were to…sing to you about kittens?" He teased.
She drew in a breath. Her shoulders relaxed. She laughed quietly, and her smile was sincere. Georg practically congratulated himself on thinking of something that would soothe her, if only for a moment.
"Oh…Georg," she breathed out. She touched her own head.
"Dizzy?" He asked.
"Nothing like before," she said, shaking her head.
"You will be careful upon rising," Georg said. "Changing your position, in any way, can make the dizziness worse. The water was hot, I dare say. Cooler water will help, in the future. And, of course, now that you're eating something more substantial than bread and butter…"
"Do all husbands know so much about…my condition?" Maria asked. Her smile, now, was relaxed and radiant. Her smile, alone, made Georg's heart beat rapidly.
"Perhaps," he said. "Ones who have been a father and experienced the arrival of children as many times as I have. Beyond that, I spoke to the doctor at great lengths while you were entertaining the children in the garden."
Her face showed a little anxiety once more.
"Is there anything I ought to know?" She asked. "I'm afraid the doctor said very little to me, except that…well…it's as we suspected, and there is a baby."
Georg brushed her cheek and leaned to kiss her. She seemed to welcome the kiss. She took it from him, and replaced it with one of her own, with a hunger that was unmistakable. She wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her close to him, squeezing her as much as he dared, before he let his hands have a brief tour of her body—an almost impulsive need to be sure that she was very much there, and very much his.
"You shall—eat well," Georg said. "Rest often. And you will wear nothing binding, Maria. I will have material brought tomorrow, and a few patterns, if you have need of them."
"Everything I have fits," Maria said.
"But soon, it won't," Georg said. "And if it does, I will be rather cross with you, Maria. You must allow the baby to grow comfortably. You will make some things that will accommodate the baby's growth. And you will be careful, Maria. Babies—and their mothers—are quite delicate, you know. We do want this little one to grow big and strong…and to make it to join our family. We don't want to suffer any losses that may be avoided."
She wrapped herself around him in an embrace, and he held her a moment, gently. He could practically feel the affection radiating out from her. It warmed him. He felt his skin buzzing where she touched him—an effect of his imagination, certainly, but a sensation that he enjoyed, nonetheless.
She smiled at him when the embrace broke, and he kissed her again, softly. She nipped his lip, playfully, as the kiss broke. In her eyes, the anxiety from earlier was replaced with desire. Georg's heart beat hard and fast in his chest. He needed only to see that look in Maria's eyes and every part of his body responded to her as though he nearly had no control at all.
He pulled the blanket back to welcome her to their bed.
She held his eyes as she unfastened her nightgown and let it slip down her body, pooling at her feet and revealing her naked body beneath. He saw the flash of nervousness in her eyes, once more. This time, he knew, it was because she feared how he might respond to her forwardness. He had never given her any reason to fear such a thing—he was greatly appreciative, and even thankful, that his wife let him know that he pleased her and that she desired him—but he knew that her life had given her a reason to fear his reaction. Society had told her that she ought not desire any man, maybe not even her husband, while also making it clear that she should meet all of his needs, whenever they might arise.
Georg was old-fashioned enough, and society had firmly planted enough thoughts in his head, that he had certain expectations for how his wife should behave, but he also thought of himself as being open-minded enough that he was pleased that Maria didn't always behave exactly as society might dictate she should. Still, she was as obedient as he truly expected her to be, while also being challenging and exciting.
"Get into bed, Maria," he said gently. She did, never truly breaking her eye contact with him, even as he walked around the bed to the other side, fully intending to join her. He undressed, himself, at his customary side of the bed. There was, after all, no need to pretend that he had any intention of denying her—or himself—the intimacy they both craved.
Under the blankets, they moved together. There was no rush. There was no need for this to be a race. Georg had been working to teach Maria that and, slowly, she was learning to relax and savor the moments together. Her fingers were still a bit more grasping than Georg might have always liked. Her movements were still a bit more rushed and frantic. She still had some of the clumsy behaviors of someone who was still learning what they were doing—who was unpracticed, and a touch unskilled—and who had a genuine fear of doing something wrong.
Georg considered it his first act of lovemaking, each time they came together, to get Maria to relax under his touch.
Immediately, he went to work doing just that. Soft kisses that he forced to be long and lazy calmed her. Pressure with his fingertips over certain points of her body seemed to soothe the frenesi. He touched her with just enough pressure. He drew out his touches in long, purposeful strokes. He traced his fingertips over her skin in worshipping touches. He tasted her skin, slowly and purposefully, taking time to savor the softness and the taste of it under his lips and tongue.
He forced her to slow down, and she reacted just as he thought she would. She relaxed into the bed. She relaxed into him. She returned his affections, slowing more and more as she matched his speed.
When he kissed her throat, he let his lips linger over the point of her neck that revealed to him, with a gentle thump against his lips, just how her heart was moving inside her chest. He smiled against her pulse before placing one more soft kiss there and moving to rest his head on the pillow, facing her.
She smiled at him and touched his lips. He kissed her fingertip and let his own fingertips slowly slide down to touch her stomach. It was still flat, but he knew that wouldn't last for long. He let his fingers rest there, against the spot where he knew their child must be already growing.
"The doctor said that you were strong and healthy," Georg said.
"We knew that I am," Maria said.
"And, yet, it matters to me to hear it, all the same," Georg said. He slipped his hand down, touching soft curls. Beyond that, his fingers found the warm wetness that he sought—evidence that she wasn't putting on for his benefit. Her interest was genuine. He focused his touches. The strokes he'd calmed her with, before, took on a very different purpose, now, as he let his fingertips, alone, bring pleasure to her.
She closed her eyes and bit her lip. Her brow furrowed again, this time in the expression of pain that often accompanied pleasure. She let out soft sounds that accompanied rapid breathing that grew more rapid, still, as Georg lingered there, with no other focus than see her reach the moment where she opened her mouth to him like she might protest suffering and, instead, made the sound—still somewhat what he might consider an expression of pain—that he had learned meant that she had reached her peak.
It amused him to see what sounds he could coax out of her, to see what beautiful expressions she might make for him, and to see how many times he could bring her to the point that her body shook and spasmed with what he was doing to her.
"Do you want me?" Georg asked, letting his fingers tease the entrance to her body, where he hoped to soon be seated, himself.
"Oh—you know that I do," Maria said. "Please…Georg…"
"Then, come…let me hold you," Georg said.
He came to her, actually, but she opened herself to him, wrapping around him in a way that welcomed him fully into her embrace. She opened her eyes to him, too, and requested a kiss from him that he was happy to give.
"I love you," Maria said, sincerely.
"I love you," Georg assured her, kissing her neck and collarbone.
"I am happy, Georg, to…well…to be carrying this baby for you. For both of us…to add to our family…"
He smiled. He knew that she was treading carefully. She always did. She wanted to choose the perfect words, always. She never wanted to draw attention to the fact that the children were not hers, biologically, and she never wanted to discredit, either, Agathe's importance in both Georg's life and the lives of the children.
Georg realized that, at times, it must be a very exhausting line to try to walk.
"Ssshhh," he soothed, hearing the tension in her voice as she tried so hard to choose the perfect words. The words didn't matter. He knew her heart, and he also knew that hearts were complicated things. He accepted that. "Put everything down for now, Maria. This child is the first born between us. For this moment…we celebrate just that. Thank you, my love, for this and for everything."
As she kissed him, he moved and brought them together, joining them entirely. The kiss broke as she arched her back and tipped her head back for the moment, drawing in a breath. He kissed her throat, as she exposed it to him, and gave her a moment to adjust to him and to experience the sensations she felt as they became one again. He, too, savored the feeling of being as absolutely close to her as he possibly could be.
When she moved, beneath him, to encourage him to move, he kissed her chin and nipped her lower lip as she brought her face back close to his and brought their eyes back to meet, once more.
"Let me take care of you," he said, already knowing that she would allow it, and he would treasure the chance to do so in every way, forever.