Yay! Surprise! Another chapter for the day and I am in loveeee with this one! Enjoy!

Week 3-4 – At this stage, the embryo has started to develop major organs like the brain and spinal cord. The mother can expect to feel a low amount of energy and may be fatigued easily, but the breasts can be expected only to grow hastily leading to unwanted pains and aches. Husbands be warned!

Hmmpf.

Maria huffed as she threw yet another dress onto the growing pile on the vanity chair beside her. The heap was beginning to resemble a small mountain, each garment more frustrating than the last. She had been stationed in her and Georg's expansive bathroom for what felt like an eternity, and yet she had made absolutely no progress. By now, she was certain that the children were well into their breakfast, likely conspiring about whatever mischief they would get into that day.

She reached for another dress, this time choosing one she knew to be particularly loose-fitting at the top. Surely this one would work. But as she slipped it over her head and adjusted it into place, her optimism quickly faded. The fabric clung uncomfortably to her bust, pressing in ways that made her feel utterly constricted. She groaned, frustration bubbling to the surface as she yanked the dress off again and tossed it toward the pile with a dramatic flourish.

A week ago, every one of these dresses had fit her perfectly. Fit like a glove, as the seamstress had assured her. But now, it seemed as though she would need to go up two sizes just to find relief. She felt absurdly out of place in her own skin, as though her body was no longer hers to control.

In a fit of desperation, Maria dug her hand into the new fabric now around her chest, attempting to adjust the material to fit more comfortably. Instead, her fingers pressed against the sore, swollen skin beneath, and a sharp, involuntary squeal escaped her lips. She froze, stunned by the sudden flash of pain, her cheeks flushing with both discomfort and embarrassment at her own reaction.

"What is wrong with me?" she muttered to her reflection, her voice tinged with a mix of irritation and worry. She leaned closer to the mirror, as if it might offer her some explanation, but it provided no answers – only the sight of her slightly disheveled hair and the exasperation etched across her face. Surely this wasn't normal. Breasts didn't grow this quick, did they? And this pain – it had to be a sign of something more serious. There must be something wrong with her.

Her spiral of thoughts was interrupted by a soft knock at the bathroom door. Maria whirled around, her heart leaping to her throat. Panic flashed through her mind as tried to decide whether to answer it or ignore it, her hands instinctively smoothing the rumpled fabric of her current ill-fitting dress.

"Maria?" came Georg's voice, gentle but with a hint of curiosity. "Are you alright in there, darling?"

Her shoulders sagged in both relief and apprehension. Of course it was Georg. It was always Georg when she was feeling like this – frazzled and uncertain, as though he had an uncanny sense for when she was in trouble. She hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the mess of discarded dresses behind her, their vibrant colors a glaring testament to her frustration.

"Uhm… yes, yes, everything's just fine!" she called out, her voice higher and less convincing than she'd intended. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "You can come in."

The door opened, and Georg stepped inside, looking as effortlessly dapper as ever in a crisp shirt and tailored trousers. Maria often wondered how he managed to look so composed at all times, even during their most chaotic mornings. His hair was slightly tousled, as though he'd ran his fingers through it in thought, and his expression carried his usual blend of calm assurance and understated amusement.

"We've been waiting for you, darling," he said, his tone warm but laced with gentle teasing. "We were all starting to get a little bit worried. Louisa even suggested sending a search party."

Maria let out a small laugh, rolling her eyes at the idea of the children orchestrating such an endeavor. "Oh, I'm sure they would have made it quite the adventure."

Georg stepped further into the room, his eyes sweeping over the scene. It didn't take long for his gaze to land on the pile of dresses spilling over the vanity chair, a veritable rainbow of fabric threatening to topple to the floor. He raised a brow, his lips twitching into a mischievous grin. "Hmm," he mused, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the large clawfoot tub. "Having trouble deciding what to wear today?"

"Something like that," she admitted, though her voice faltered slightly, betraying her frustration. She gestured vaguely at the heap of clothing, avoiding his gaze as she added, "It seems none of these are quite… cooperating."

Georg tilted his head, his brows drawing together in mild confusion as he looked between her and the colorful pile of dresses. "Cooperating?" he repeated, stepping closer to her. "Darling, you make it sound like your wardrobe has staged a rebellion."

Maria let out a nervous laugh, shifting on her feet. "It might as well have," she muttered, her fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced toward the mirror, then back at the discarded dresses, her cheeks warming as she tried to figure out how to explain without sounding ridiculous.

Georg's smile softened as he studied her. He could see the tension in her posture, the way she avoided meeting his eyes, and it only made his concern grow. "Maria," he said gently, his voice coaxing. "What's really the matter?"

She stalled, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. "It's… nothing, really. Just me being silly," she assured quickly, though her tone lacked conviction. "I suppose I'm just having one of those mornings."

Georg didn't look convinced. He stepped closer, his hand coming to rest lightly on her arm. "One of those mornings where every dress you own ends up on the chair?" he teased lightly, though there was nothing but warmth in his expression. "Come now, darling, I know you. This isn't just about a dress."

Maria's blush deepened, and she looked away, biting her lip. She hated how easily he could see through her, how he had this unearthly ability to gently pry open her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to keep them hidden. "It's nothing, truly," she said again, her voice barely above a whisper.

Georg gave a small hum, the kind he always made when he knew she wasn't being entirely honest. He stepped closer still, tilting his head to meet her downcast gaze. "Maria," he said softly, his tone a mix of patience and curiosity. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

She sighed, her shoulder sagging as she finally gave in. "It's just… nothing seems to be fitting properly today," she confessed, her voice small and grudging. "Everything feels tight and uncomfortable."

Georg's eyes flicked to the dresses and then back to her, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. "Tight and uncomfortable?" he repeated, his brow furrowing slightly. "How so?"

Maria fidgeted again, feeling her blush creep further down her neck. "It's my… my bust," she mumbled, so quietly that the words were barely heard by Georg. "It's like suddenly they decided to grow two sizes overnight, and nothing fits the way it usually does."

Georg blinked, and then his lips twitched as though he were fighting the urge to smile. "Your… bust," he echoed, his voice tender but tinged with amusement.

Maria groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Georg, don't make me say it again!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled behind her fingers. "It's embarrassing enough as it is."

He chuckled softly, reaching up and gingerly pulling her hands away from her face. "I'm not making fun of you," he promised, though his eyes twinkled with barely contained mirth as he looked down at her. "I just wasn't expecting that answer, that's all."

"Well, neither was I!" she shot back, her frustration evident, though tempered by the way he held her hands so tenderly, his thumbs brushing lightly over her knuckles. "It's like my body has a mind of its own, and none of my clothes are fitting quite right anymore."

Georg bent his head, his gaze flickered briefly to her figure before returning to her face. "Hmm," he contemplated, his tone light and thoughtful. "Well, I personally don't see how that is much of a problem."

Maria blinked, momentarily confused by his response. "What are you-" Her cheeks suddenly flushed a deep crimson as she caught the sly glint in his eyes. "Georg!"

"What?" he asked innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. "I'm merely saying that I fail to see anything worth complaining about."

"You are impossible!" Maria huffed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her face and neck as she swatted at his arm.

"And yet, here you are," Georg quipped, laughing as he caught her hand before she could pull it away. "Married to me, hopelessly in love, and, might I add, looking as lovely as ever."

Maria groaned again, though a unwilling smile tugged at her lips despite her embarrassment. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Captain."

"Oh, I'm not flattering you," he responded smoothly, his grin widening as he leaned in closer. "I'm simply stating the facts."

She let out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head as she tried to regain her composure. "Well, the fact is," she countered, her tone laced with playful defiance, "I have nothing to wear, and it's entirely your fault."

"My fault?" Georg raised a brow, feigning offense. "I don't recall sewing these dresses myself."

"No," Maria reasoned, her eyes narrowing as her grin grew mischievous, "but you're the one who insisted I needed an entirely new wardrobe when we got married. Now I'm stuck with dresses that don't fit!"

Georg laughed, the deep, warm sound filling the room. "Alright, fair enough," he conceded, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But I still stand by my earlier point – I don't see a problem worth getting upset about."

Maria rolled her eyes, though the tension she'd been carrying all morning had nearly melted away. "You're impossible," she said again, her voice softening as a small smile crept onto her lips. She gestured back toward the pile of dresses on the chair. "But aside from your so-called lack of a problem, Georg, nothing fits. Not a single thing."

Georg tilted his head, his eyes flickering down to fully take in the simple dress she was wearing, one she had hastily thrown on after tossing yet another ill-fitting option out. "Nothing fits?" he reverberated, raising a brow. "Well, I beg to differ."

Maria frowned slightly, confused. "What do you mean?"

"What you're wearing right now," he said, his voice dipping lower, "looks absolutely perfect to me."

Maria's cheeks flushed again at the way he was looking at her – full of admiration and pure awe, as if she were the most captivating sight in the world. "Georg," she began, her voice faltering slightly as she tried to hold onto her indignation. "This dress is all wrong. It's too tight, the neckline is uncomfortable, and-"

He leaned forward abruptly, cutting her off with a gentle, lingering kiss. His lips brushed hers with a tenderness that left her momentarily breathless, and when he pulled back, his smile had softened into something more earnest. "Darling," he murmured, his hands lightly resting on her waist, "you could wear a burlap sack, and you'd still be the most beautiful woman in the room."

Maria's heart fluttered at this words, and she couldn't help but giggle softly, her earlier irritation now entirely forgotten. "You really are impossible," she said, though her tone was filled with affection.

"And you," Georg replied, his grin returning, "are far too hard on yourself." He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he straightened, glancing toward the door. "Now, as much as I'd like to stay here and continue admiring you, the children are likely plotting mutiny by now. We should head downstairs before they start scaling the walls."

Maria laughed again, shaking her head as she reached for his hand. "You're probably right. Louisa's been itching to lead a revolution ever since last week's geography lesson."

Georg chuckled, squeezing her hand gently as he led her toward the door. "Then let's hurry before she drafts the others into her army."

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the villa's sprawling garden, where the children's laughter rang out like music. Maria stood under the shade of a large oak tree, her hands loosely clasped as she watched the children dart around in a game of tag. Their energy seemed boundless, their movements a blur of color and joy as they wove through the grass and around the bushes. Maria smiled, her heart swelling with love at the sight of them.

But as the minutes passed, the warmth of the September sun began to feel heavier, the lively chatter around her blending into a distant hum. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, sudden and all-encompassing. She rested her hand against the rough bark of the tree, her fingers curling slightly as she tried to steady herself. She hadn't done anything strenuous – nothing beyond standing and watching – but the weight pressing on her shoulders made her feel as though she'd been running alongside the children for hours.

"Mother?" The soft, familiar voice made her turn, and she found Liesl standing nearby, her brow furrowed in concern. "Are you alright? You look… tired."

Maria straightened, wiping a drop of sweat from her hairline as she forced a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Liesl," she said lightly. "I just didn't sleep well last night, that's all."

Liesl's expression didn't mellow. She stepped closer, her hands clasped in front of her. "Are you sure? You've been standing here for a while. Maybe you should rest."

Maria let out a soft laugh, though it lacked conviction. "Rest? With this lot running around? I think not," she teased, nodding toward the children who were now debating the rules of their next game.

"Mother," Liesl said gently, her tone more insistent now. "I can take over. Why don't you go inside and nap? I'm sure Father will be out soon to help."

Maria hesitated, her gaze flickering to the children, then back to Liesl. She opened her mouth to protest, but the look in Liesl's eyes – unwavering, calm, and far too grown-up – made her pause. "You really don't mind?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

"Of course not," Liesl answered with a small smile. "You've done more than enough today. Go on. I've got this."

Maria's smile brightened, and a wave of gratitude swelled in her chest. She reached out to squeeze Liesl's hand. "Oh, Liesl," she murmured, her voice tinged with emotion. "Please don't leave me next year. I don't know what I'll do without you."

Liesl beamed, though there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "You'll be just fine, Mother. I promise. We both will."

Maria nodded, though the thought of Liesl leaving still tugged at her heart. With a final glance at the children, she made her way back to the villa. The coolness of the house was a welcome relief from the afternoon heat, and as she climbed the stairs to her and Georg's room, she felt her body grow heavier with each step.

Pushing open the door, Maria let out a small sigh as the familiar comfort of their room enveloped her. Her gaze fell on one of Georg's shirts draped over the back of a chair, and she hesitated for only a moment before picking it up. The fabric was soft and carried his scent, a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him. She quickly stepped out of her restrictive dress and slipped the shirt on, reveling in the way it hung loosely over her body, free of any binding seams. She felt at ease.

Maria crossed to the bed, pulling back the covers before sinking onto the mattress. Her head barely touched the pillow before sleep claimed her, the weight of her fatigue finally giving way to peaceful rest.

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

It felt like only mere seconds before Maria felt a soothing hand rubbing gently at her shoulder. She blinked away the heaviness of sleep, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dimly lit room. The golden glow of the bedside lamp had replaced the afternoon light, and the room was bathed in a cozy snugness. How long had she been asleep?

"Maria," Georg's familiar baritone voice whispered softly, his tone gentle but adamant as he tried to rouse her fully.

"Mmm," Maria hummed, her voice still thick with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Just before dinner," he replied shortly, concern evident in his voice as he sat beside her on the bed. "Are you feeling alright, Maria?"

Maria blinked at him, her mind still catching up. But then she sat up quickly, the realization of the time hitting her like a jolt. "Just before dinner?" she yelped, her hands flying to her mouth in dismay. "Oh, Georg, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to sleep for so long-"

"Shh…" Georg hushed her soothingly, placing a steadying hand on her arm. "It's okay. You needed the rest."

Maria sighed, the guilt still wrenching at her as she looked at him. "I didn't mean to leave you with everything. I should've been helping."

Georg shook his head, his expression softening. "Liesl told me you weren't feeling well this afternoon," he clarified, his brow furrowing slightly. "She was worried about you."

Maria winced slightly at that, brushing a hand over her face. "I wasn't feeling that bad," she protested lightly, though the memory of her earlier fatigue told a different story. "Just… tired. That's all."

"Tired enough to fall asleep for hours," Georg pointed out gently, though his tone carried no reproach. He reached out to tuck a strand of unruly hair behind her ear, his gaze steady and full of concern. "Maria, you can't push yourself like this. If you're not feeling well, I need you to tell me."

Maria offered him a faint smile, hoping to dispel the worry in his eyes. "I'm fine, Georg. Really. I suppose I just didn't sleep well last night."

Georg's lips twitched into a faint smirk, his hand brushing down her arm. "Well, that might have something to do with someone keeping you up far too late," he teased, his voice dropping into a lower, playful register.

Maria let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she gave him a look of mock disapproval. "Yes, well, perhaps if you weren't so insistent on staying up so late, I wouldn't be so tired after all."

Georg grinned at her, leaning closer as his gaze dipped briefly to her borrowed attire. "And yet, you know how seeing you in my shirts makes me feel," he murmured, his voice baiting but still laced with warmth.

Maria's smile widened, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Maybe," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear, "that was the point."

Her kiss was soft at first, but Georg deepened it, his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her even closer into him. His touch was light, affectionate, as he explored the familiar curve of her back, the loose fabric of his shirt bunched slightly beneath his fingers. His hands drifted upward, his touch careful and reverent – until his fingers lightly brushed against her breast.

Maria recoiled instantly, a sharp hiss escaping her lips as she flinched away. Georg froze, his hands falling away as his countenance shifted from playful to alarmed. "Maria," he said hastily, his voice edged with panic, his hands hovering near her without touching her. "What's wrong?"

Maria drew in a slow, shaky breath, her fingers clutching the front of his shirt as she tried to steady herself. "It's… nothing," she managed, her voice tight and unconvincing. Her free hand instinctively pressed lightly against her chest, as though to ward off the lingering sting. "It just – hurt."

"Hurt?" Georg echoed, his brows knitting together as he sat back slightly, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress. "Maria, what do you mean? Hurt how?"

Maria hesitated, her cheeks warming as she glanced away. She didn't want to admit it, didn't want to draw attention to something that felt so personal, even if it was just to him. "It's nothing, Georg," she said almost angrily, though her voice held some uncertainty. "Really, I promise it's not a big deal."

Georg's eyes narrowed slightly, his concern deepening. "Maria, we aren't doing this again," he said firmly, though his tone remained sympathetic, "you were in visible pain. That doesn't look like nothing to me."

She sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of his steady gaze. "It's just… my breasts," she admitted for the second time that day. "They've been… so sore lately. And sensitive. More than usual."

Georg blinked, trying to solve the mystery Maria was laying out before him. "Sore?" He repeated, his tone shifting to one of quiet understanding. "How long has this been going on?"

Maria fidgeted, her fingers nervously smoothing the fabric of his shirt. "A few days at most, but it has really just been today," she said reluctantly. "At first, I thought it was just the dresses being too tight, but it's more than that. Even the slightest touch today-" she broke off, shaking her head as the memory of the pain flashed through her. "It's just… uncomfortable."

Georg leaned back slightly, his eyes softening as he absorbed her words. "Maria, why didn't you tell me this morning?" he questioned, his voice tinged with both concern and reproach.

"I didn't want to worry you," she replied quietly, still avoiding his gaze as her fingers stayed put on his shirt. "And I thought it would just go away on its own."

He reached out then, his hand cupping her cheek with such care that she finally looked up at him. "Darling, you can tell me anything, no matter how small it seems," he asserted calmly, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheekbone. "Your comfort – your health – matters more to me than anything."

Her heart swelled at his words, though the remaining embarrassment kept her from fully meeting his gaze. "It just feels so silly still," she mumbled. "I mean, of all things to be wrong with me…"

"It's not silly. Not at all," Georg interrupted firmly, shaking his head. "If you're in pain, it's important. And if you're uncomfortable, I want to know so that I can help." He paused, his brows furrowing slightly as his concern deepened again. "Are you sure it's just soreness? Nothing else unusual?"

Maria thought for a moment, her hand unconsciously brushing against her chest again. "It's just tenderness, really. And… well, they've felt a little fuller lately," she admitted hesitantly, her cheeks growing warmer with each word. "But that's it."

Georg studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable before it softened into something tender. "Maria," he said delicately, "I know you don't want to make a fuss, but if this keeps bothering you – or if it gets worse – you'll tell me, won't you?"

She nodded slowly, the weight of his concern settling over her like a blanket. "I will," Maria said her voice steady as she squeezed his hand. "I promise."

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling her into a gentle embrace. "Let's get you downstairs," he murmured. "But only if you're up to it."

Maria smiled faintly, letting the warmth of his presence soothe her lingering discomfort. "I'm up to it," she replied, though she silently hoped the evening wouldn't require too much energy.

Eek I love this. I needed a break from the angst of TLWWWO and this is just so sweettt. For the most part at least haha.

In my mind, I am assuming that Agathe had very easy pregnancies (since there were so many haha), which to me, also means she probably didn't have too many symptoms, or at least they weren't awful. So that's why I think that Georg wouldn't think anything of this just yet. I believe he was also gone for much of her pregnancies, so he wouldn't know anyway right? Idk maybe I am just choosing to believe this all for the sake of the story HAHA but I love it anyway.

Also like - I've never been pregnant? - so some things might not be exactly correct, but these are just supposed to be some fluffy vignettes.

But this is definitely leaning more towards enddd of week 4 than week 3 for sure.

Anyways enough of that! I hope y'all enjoyed like always! So thankful!

I own nothing from the Sound of Music!