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The snow fell softly through the darkness, illuminated by the warm glow of the streetlamps. It had been falling for a few hours now, but the days’ worth of snow from before still lined the streets, crunching under the feet of the last stragglers making their way to the Nonnberg Abbey for Christmas Eve Midnight Mass.
The figures walking down the street were few and far between, but they all seemed to be in a rush, hastening through the flurries of snowflakes before it picked up even more, coating the barren spots on the road with a fresh coat of sparkling white snow. Everyone was in a hurry to get where they were going.
Everyone except one man.
Captain Georg von Trapp stood at the bottom of the staircase to the church, motionless and gazing up at the imposing building above him as the snow continued to fall. He could feel the flakes gathering into large clumps on his shoulders, and soon they would soak through his coat if he wasn’t careful. He knew the sensible thing would be to go ahead and step forward, walk up the stairs, and enter the Abbey as he’d come here to do. It was nearly midnight after all, and the service would be starting soon. He should move.
But he was frozen.
He wasn’t sure why he was here, exactly. Liesl had mentioned attending Midnight Mass last week, and he hadn’t been able to get the idea out of his head ever since. He and Agathe had made it a yearly tradition for every year of their marriage, but like many other things in his life, he had refused to continue it after she had died. Liesl and Friedrich had clearly been hopeful they’d attend again this year, but with seven excitable children– two of which still believed in the Christkind and wouldn’t be getting a wink of sleep the night before– he’d decided they wouldn’t go, silencing any complaints with a sharp, meaningful look.
And then, hypocritical as it might be, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
There were a number of churches that held Midnight Mass in Salzburg, but the one he had in mind also kept the one woman he hadn’t been able to get out of his head ensconced behind its walls.
Against his better judgement, he had made sure to find out if Nonnberg Abbey was indeed holding a Midnight Mass this year– they were– and then had spent the next four days agonizing about whether or not he should go.
On the one hand, he knew it was terribly unfair of him to refuse attending Midnight Mass with his children only to go there alone himself, but he also knew he didn’t want them with him on this particular excursion. If he saw her– which was the only reason he was going, he could admit– he did not need his seven children to witness their reunion. Mainly because he wasn’t even sure what her reaction would be to seeing him again.
It had been four long and lonely months since Maria had left them– left him– running back to the Abbey in the middle of the night after he’d finally held her in his arms for the first time during that dance. Waking up to find her gone was one of the worst feelings Georg had ever experienced. He’d driven her away, which was the exact thing he had been trying not to do for the entire summer, ever since he’d realised he was undeniably attracted to her.
But she had left, vanishing with nothing more than a hastily written note and this lingering sense of her in every corner of the villa.
Georg had proposed to Elsa not long after, stubbornly attempting to move forward when it became apparent Maria was not returning. He’d drunk himself into a stupor that night, and his dreams were full of blue chiffon and silken skin. He didn’t mind at all, because it was the most he’d seen of her in weeks.
And then, no sooner had the engagement been announced to some of Elsa and Georg’s friends was it broken off. He had been distant from his new fiance ever since he’d wheedled it out of his children one day that they’d visited the Abbey, only to be told that Maria wouldn’t see them. Elsa had sensed his reluctance in marrying her, and, never one to be one-upped, had gracefully bowed out, returning to Vienna with only minimal social damage. He’d been relieved when she’d ended it, because he had been coming closer to breaking it off with every glimpse of those haunting blue eyes he saw whenever he closed his eyes.
He’d almost gone to Nonnberg Abbey at least five times over the course of the past four months, but each time he’d held himself back before he’d gotten halfway out the door. He wanted nothing more than to march right in there and demand he see Maria, to tell her how felt and kiss her like he’d so desperately wanted to on the night of the party, but he hadn’t. How could he, when she’d made it very clear with her continued absence that she wanted to follow the path she’d intended to follow all along? He didn’t want to be the reason she strayed from that. Didn’t want to be someone she’d come to resent if he succeeded in pulling her away from her beloved Abbey.
So even though he was positive there was something going on between them over the summer– even though he knew there was no mistaking the desire in her eyes he’d seen when they’d danced, or the fire he saw in them whenever they argued, or the–
No.
Well, the fact of the matter was that he wouldn’t be the reason she gave up the life she’d tried to convince both herself and him that she wanted. Despite his misgivings and her own doubts, he wouldn’t make himself any more of an obstacle than he already had been. He would bow out as Elsa had done for him, even if Maria didn’t know he had to physically stop himself from chasing after her. He would let her live the way she wanted, even if it broke him more than he would admit.
Which brought him back to the question he’d been asking himself since he first saw the grand arches of Nonnberg Abbey emerge out of the darkness: why was he here?
If he really did not want to cause her any further distress than he already had; if he wanted her to live the life she’d told him time and time again she was born to live… why was he here? Why had he come, against his better judgement and every bit of sense in his body telling him it was a bad idea?
The answer was simple.
He wanted to see her again.
Because in the four– nearly five– long months that had passed since her departure, Georg had come to realise one very undeniable fact: he loved her. And he would give anything for just one more glimpse. Even if she’d already taken her vows and was safely cloistered, truly untouchable by him now, he would take a glimpse. Even if she was wearing a wimple and habit, and he could only see wisps of that soft, golden hair of hers he loved so much, he’d take a glimpse. Just one. Something to carry with him for the rest of his life.
Because if things progressed in the direction they seemed to be, his family would be leaving Austria soon, and then he truly would never see her again.
So he just needed one more glimpse. One more glimpse of her beautiful smile and fiery blue eyes for the last time before they fled Austria, leaving behind the wonderful memories of the summer they’d spent together.
And so, it was with this knowledge that he took a step forward onto the first snow-covered stair leading up to the entrance of Nonnberg Abbey. Just one more glimpse. It wouldn’t be enough. Not when he wanted a lifetime with her. Not when he wanted every smile, every glance, every laugh, every touch, every breath for the rest of his life. One last glimpse would never be enough, but it would be all he could get.
And God knew, he needed it.
Maria had always loved Midnight Mass. As a child, one of her earliest memories– and last memories with her parents– had been attending the service Christmas Eve night. She’d fought to stay awake as the hours had ticked by, but it had been a wonderful experience, and it was one that she enjoyed just as much once she’d become a postulant.
Maria wasn’t a postulant anymore, but she still loved Midnight Mass.
After the horrid couple of weeks that had followed her hasty departure from the von Trapp villa back in August, she’d come to understand that the cloistered life wasn’t for her. She’d almost returned to the villa, per the Reverend’s Mother advice, but had then heard of the Captain’s engagement to Baroness Schraeder and so with nowhere else to go, she had stayed.
The Reverend Mother had been wonderful to let her remain at the Abbey, as long as she helped out and didn’t cause much trouble. The second part was, of course, harder for Maria to achieve, but the first part was simple. She loved working with the Sisters, and especially enjoyed attending the special services over the past holiday season.
She’d thought about visiting the villa once or twice, but had stopped herself each time. The last thing Maria needed was to see another woman married to the man she loved.
Because, yes, she had admitted it to herself now. The weeks of lingering touches and longing glances and shared smiles over the summer with the Captain hadn’t meant nothing. They had just meant nothing to him. Even if they perhaps had meant something at some point, it had clearly passed just as the baroness had told her it would. He hadn’t come after her. It didn’t mean it hurt any less, but Maria knew that while it had been love for her, it hadn’t been for him.
It didn’t matter, anyways, because she was leaving for Vienna after the holidays and didn’t see herself returning any time soon. It had taken some searching, but the Reverend Mother had eventually lined up a teaching position for her in Vienna and Maria had eagerly taken it. She would miss Salzburg– and miss him– but she had to leave. She saw his ghost too many places.
Even if she wanted nothing more than to return to the villa– return home– it was decided. She was leaving.
And so, since it was to be her last Christmas here at Nonnberg Abbey, she had thrown herself into preparations for Midnight Mass, and was now standing behind the pews, excitedly watching the seats fill up with families and couples holding hands.
She’d thought she’d seen a flash of Gretl’s hair for a second, but it hadn’t been her.
Try as she might, Maria hadn’t been able to get the von Trapps out of her head… and especially not the Captain. But for tonight, she decided, she would enjoy her last Christmas in Salzburg and not be haunted by the Captain’s burning gaze and half-smile…
“Maria?” The sweet voice of Sister Margaretta startled her from thoughts and Maria pulled her eyes away from the nearly-full pews, tearing her gaze off of a woman with blonde hair eerily similar to the baroness’, though she knew she was just imagining that. Since she’d left, she thought she saw at least one of the von Trapps at least once a week.
Of course, she saw him most of all.
“It’s nearly eleven-thirty,” Sister Margretta continued, smiling warmly at the former postulant, “Would you mind telling the guests who are strolling in the courtyard?”
Maria nodded with a smile of her own, saying a quick “of course, Sister Margaretta,” before hurrying out into the main area of the Abbey. Her shoes clicked on the stone of the floor as she made her way towards the courtyard, spotting a few people still heading towards where the service was being held. She smiled towards them as she’d walked, but didn’t make eye contact in an effort to reach the courtyard before any guests were late for service.
Perhaps if she’d glanced behind her one last time before ducking into the courtyard, she would’ve seen Captain von Trapp himself standing across the room from her, frozen halfway to the door and looking like he’d seen a ghost.
It hadn’t even been a full minute.
From the second he’d entered the Abbey to when he’d been about to step inside the nave, not even an entire sixty seconds had passed before he’d seen a flash of golden hair and felt his whole world freeze around him.
Was it really her? Could it be her? She wasn’t wearing a wimple. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her– not more than a split-second, really, before she’d disappeared around the corner into the courtyard– but she didn’t look like she was wearing a habit either.
Hadn’t she already taken her vows? That was what she’d said in her letter she was returning to do, anyways. Had he simply not seen her correctly? It hadn’t been a long look, to be fair.
She’s a nun, he reminded himself, quickly stamping down a small seed of hope that had bloomed at the idea Maria hadn’t taken her vows yet. You prepared yourself for this. She is untouchable. Off-limits. To you and to the rest of the world.
You can’t have her.
Despite that knowledge, Georg wasn't able to unglue his eyes from where they were trained on the small doorway she’d gone out of. He hadn’t expected to see her so soon. In fact, he hadn’t expected to see her at all unless it was among the other nuns in the congregation. He would have at least had time to prepare himself, then, but he hadn’t been able to just now. Nothing could have prepared him to see her the second he’d stepped into the church.
He was fairly sure he’d forgotten how to breathe, too.
And as if God himself was mocking him for the way the ground had gone unsteady beneath his feet, or the way his heart ached to see her again, she suddenly reappeared. He had been intending to escape into the nave– if he’d been able to force his legs to work again– but there she was again. This time, she was leading a young man and an elderly woman across the room.
Everything fell away as he looked at her. She didn’t look much different, but at the same time, she wasn’t anything like he remembered. It had only been four months, but it felt longer, so Georg drank in the sight of her like he was dying of thirst.
Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and she had a couple of snowflakes on her shoulders and melting on her nose. She looked adorably flushed, and for a moment Georg smiled as if she had blushed because of him, like she’d done so often during the summer. Her hair had grown out a little more too, but it was still the lovely golden hue he remembered and he wanted nothing more than to go to her, pulling her into his chest and stroking the soft strands, like he’d wished he could for months.
She laughed at something the man said then, and the smile fell from Georg’s face as the sound echoed around the chamber, tendrils of bitterness weaving their way around his heart. It had been too long since he’d heard that laugh and, after tonight, he wouldn’t hear it again.
The thought made him utterly desolate and he made to step through the door, already hearing the priest begin to start service, but before he could move Maria’s eyes found his and she froze. He froze too.
For a moment they just stared at each other, the air thrumming with an inexplicable tension as both of their eyes widened in shock.
When a moment passed in silence, the pair of guests she was with glanced curiously at him and then back to her, but excused themselves before either of them could say anything. Georg wasn’t sure he would have acknowledged them anyways. He seemed to have forgotten how to speak.
He wasn’t sure how much longer passed, but all he knew was that if she hadn’t broken the silence first, they might’ve just stayed there all night. God, it had been so long. He could look at her for hours.
“What— what are you doing here?” she finally croaked, her voice strangled.
“I am attending Midnight Mass,” he said listlessly, his arms hanging numbly by his sides as he took in her form. She definitely wasn’t wearing a habit, nor a wimple. Instead, she was wearing a simple black dress with a white pinafore-looking fabric over top. His eyes tracked their way to her face, where– for a split second– he dared imagine a smile and blush would be on her face. He hadn’t seen her flush like that since she stepped out of his arms after their dance, and she had certainly blushed then.
But instead of a smile, Maira didn’t look happy to see him in the slightest. In fact, she looked rather mad. Her fists were clenched by her sides and her eyes, previously blown wide from shock, were narrowed in fury.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, voice trembling with a strange sort of frantic anger.
“Why not?” Georg asked before he could stop himself. Had he seen and gotten a chance to speak with her, he was intending to simply make sure she was happy and say goodbye. He couldn’t tell her they were leaving, but he’d hoped he could thank her from the bottom of his heart before he’d lead Austria and her behind forever.
What he hadn’t expected her to be was angry at seeing him again. She hadn’t told him to stay away in her letter, had she?
“Because… this is where I am,” she said, and he couldn’t help the scoff that broke past his lips.
“Is Nonnberg Abbey off-limits to my family, hm?” he provoked her, and she made a little noise of frustration.
She bristled. “Ohh, you’re still so impossible,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes like she used to whenever he said something she deemed irritating. Which had happened a fair amount.
“Yes, some things have not changed despite your absence, Fraulein,” Georg retaliated, the barb slipping out before he could stop it. “I simply wasn’t aware my family was no longer welcome at the Abbey.”
“Not your family, just you!” she snapped, then winced. It was clear this was one of those times where she couldn’t hold herself back from saying anything she was thinking.
“And why is that?” Georg asked without missing a beat, beginning to feel more defensive than he should be. What right did she have to turn him out when she’d disappeared with nothing more than a feeble excuse and scribbled letter?
An excuse that now seemed to be nothing but a lie, considering she didn’t look very much like a nun. In fact, she looked even less like a postulant than she had during the summer!
Maria opened her mouth to respond, glaring at him with that intensity he’d missed– oh God, he missed their arguments– but suddenly stopped, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. Georg frowned, about to ask her what was wrong when someone spoke behind him.
“Maria, the service has started, where are— oh. Is everything alright?”
Georg turned around to see a young nun behind him, one with warm brown eyes and a kind smile. She didn’t look like the formidable Sister Berthe that Maria had told him about, so he deduced she was Sister Margaretta.
“Yes, Sister Margaretta. I did not mean to get distracted,” Maria answered immediately, rushing past him and towards the door. “I’ll be with the congregation,” she told the nun, not even sparing him a backwards glance before disappearing into the room.
He watched her go, his eyes staying on her retreating figure until he saw Sister Margaretta move in the corner of his eye. His eyes cut over to her and she turned to him then with a smile, though it was a little awkward.
“If you would like to go in, you may, uh…?” she trailed off, waiting for him to provide his name.
“Georg von Trapp,” Georg hastily introduced himself, taking his hat off and reaching out for her hand.
Sister Margaretta’s eyebrows shot up into her wimple.
“Captain von Trapp?” she clarified, accepting his handshake, though seeming rather surprised to see him.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Mar— ah, that is, Fraulein Maria was under my employ this summer.”
“Oh yes, I remember,” Sister Margaretta said with a half-smile before suddenly falling quiet, leaving Georg to wonder just what she’d heard about him. He couldn’t imagine Maria would’ve said anything to her about their… friendship? relationship? Well, whatever it is, he was sure she wouldn’t have said a thing.
Then again, he hadn’t expected her to be angry to see him again.
“Uhm, would you mind if I—?” Georg began, gesturing awkwardly towards the door Maria had rushed into. He could hear the priest already halfway through his first sermon.
“Oh yes, of course,” Sister Margaretta nodded quickly, stepping aside to let him pass. He gave her an uncomfortable smile and went to step through—
“Did you come to see Maria?” she said suddenly, and Georg’s steps faltered. He turned back to look at her, finding that she was regarding him with a sort of calculating curiosity.
“Uh, not exactly,” Georg said after a moment’s hesitation. What was she getting at, asking him that? Was it so impossible for him to simply want to attend Midnight Mass? Alone? On Christmas Night? When he hadn’t been to church in years?
“Hmm…” was all he got in response. To his bafflement, Sister Margaretta seemed to be holding back a smile.
“Well, I’m sure she was delighted to see you. Please go in, and Happy Christmas.” she said graciously, extending an arm towards the door.
“…Right. Happy Christmas to you too.” he said politely, biting back the eye roll that had threatened to break free when she’d insinuated at Maria’s supposed happiness at seeing him. No, his little fraulein had been anything but pleased to see him again.
He walked past, entering the room and taking a seat on the nearest open pew he could find. Keeping his eyes firmly on the priest at the front of the room, he forced himself not to scan the crowd in search of Maria.
Their interaction had been brief, and nothing short of unpleasant from her testy tone and furious demeanor. They had talked for all of two minutes before she’d run off and he’d been left alone again. But one thing had stuck out at him for the quick conversation.
God, he’d missed her.
Why was he here?
From the first second her eyes had met Captain Georg von Trapp’s, the question had been swirling about her mind and she was unable to focus on anything else, staring at the priest unseeing and unhearing.
She hadn’t been expecting it. Not in the slightest. Why had he come when he’d told her once that he hadn’t attended a Christmas service in years? She hadn’t expected anything to change.
Perhaps it’s because he’s married now, she thought, recoiling slightly at the idea. The thought of Captain von Trapp, the man who could make her want to rip her hair out and rip her garters off at the same time, being married to another woman… she couldn’t stand it.
Although, curiously, she didn’t see the baroness anywhere. For a horrible moment when she’d taken her place among the congregation, she’d wondered if that woman she’d seen earlier had been Baroness Schraeder. But then, to equal parts relief and distress, he hadn’t sat near the blonde woman. He’d chosen a seat near the back and had kept his eyes firmly ahead for the past thirty minutes. She wasn’t sure she’d even seen him blink.
Unbidden, her gaze shifted to him. He was sitting there, still as a statue, with his expression stony and eyes indecipherable. She knew was doing a horrible job at disguising the anguish in her expression. Seeing him again had taken her quite off-guard, and she couldn’t help but think about how much she’d missed him since she left back in August. And how much she’d miss him when she finally left for Vienna next week.
Finally forcing herself to look away from him, she tried her best to concentrate on what the priest was saying. Every other person in the room seemed able to focus on his sermon. Why couldn’t she?
“And above all these put on love,” the priest read, “which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”
Love. Of course it had to be about love. What had love brought Maria in her lifetime, other than loss? She had lost both her parents at such a young age, then been deprived of love and affection with her cruel aunt and uncle, only to fall in love with a man who could never love her back.
A man who was less than twenty feet away…
It was all too painful for her. She couldn’t keep looking at him, or even know that he was in the same room as her. She’d spent the past few months running away from him, and suddenly he was here when she least expected it. When he had no reason to be.
She had to get out of there.
Her eyes flicked back to the priest. He was nearly finished with the sermon, and the choir would be leading the congregation in carols shortly, before the Holy Communion. If she could escape for a moment, just before the carols began, she should be able to clear her mind. The singing would help with that too, when she came back in. She just needed some fresh air.
She glanced to her left, at where Sister Margaretta was standing, her attention focused on the sermon.
“Sister Margaretta,” Maria whispered when she failed to catch her eye. “I must excuse myself for a moment.”
The older nun frowned slightly, but then simply nodded. Maria smiled gratefully at her and made to slip past–
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Sister Margaretta said, just loud enough for her to hear. Maria’s steps faltered, turning to look at her in confusion, but the nun’s eyes were already fixed back towards the front of the room. She blinked and hurried past.
Slipping out of a back entrance undetected, she let the door close quietly before rushing across the room towards the small courtyard she’d been in earlier. She practically ran across the cobblestone floors, not even trying to smother the loud sound her shoes made and fighting back stubborn tears. What right did the Captain have to make her cry like this? He’d already been the cause of enough of her tears in the months they’d been apart.
A rush of cold wind hit her the second she stepped outside, ruffling her hair as she walked up to the railing, bracing her hands against the cold metal and resting her forehead against it too. One thing was for certain, and that was that she couldn’t talk to the Captain again. Not tonight, not ever. It was probably a good thing she was leaving for Vienna soon, anyways, because then there would be even less of a chance of running into him again. Vienna was a big city, and she needed somewhere she could disappear into. Even if he was a part of many social circles there, she doubted their paths would ever cross again. Tonight would be the last night she saw him. It had to be.
So why did the thought make her so sad?
“Hello.”
Her head shot up at the sound of a voice– his voice– and she gripped the fence railing to steady herself. Why, why, did he always follow her when she least needed it? And why hadn’t he followed her the one time she did need his presence, after their torturously magical dance at the party?
“I thought I just might find you here.”
Yes– at Baroness Schraeder’s party. Think about that, why don’t you? His intended’s party. His wife’s party. She must focus on that. He was out of bounds to her now, even more than he already had been.
Married, Maria, she reminded herself, using that to steel herself before turning around to face him. Married, married, married!
“Was there something you wanted, Captain?” she asked as she turned around, leaning slightly against the fence for support. He was standing just inside the courtyard, his coat unbuttoned and hands hanging uncertainly by his sides.
“Ah, not exactly,” he said, his gaze shifting to a small table to his left. “Uh, perhaps you’d like to sit?”
She eyes the snow-covered seat. “I’d likely catch frostbite if I tried to sit there, Captain,” she sniffed, and he grimaced.
“Yes. Of course. I wasn’t thinking.”
Maria remained silent, not meeting his eyes and instead focusing on a small clump of snow that hadn’t yet melted on his shoulder. It was clear he was trying to catch her eye, for reasons she didn’t intend to find out. If he’d come to berate her some more about running off, she’d just go back inside. It didn’t matter his scoldings nettled her so because they were true, but she needed space from him. Space to get her thoughts into order, which was regrettably difficult to do with him right there!
“May I speak, Fraulein?” he asked after a moment when she still refused to meet his eyes.
“I can’t very well stop you, can I?” she muttered, her tone a little more outwardly acidic than she’d intended.
“I reckon there isn’t much you can’t do, Fraulein, but I will take that as a yes,” he responded wryly. Maria held back a scoff, looking to the left.
“I suppose I was wondering something. Two things, actually. What was it that made you run off to the Abbey… and, correct me if I’m mistaken, why are you not a nun yet?”
The question made her heart beat in two times speed. So, he’d noticed. It was hard not to, she guessed. Rather conspicuous of her to not be wearing a habit and wimple in a church, so it was no surprise he had taken note. The only question was whether it meant he’d seen through the lie she’d given him when she’d run away at the end of the summer.
“Well, I had an obligation to fulfill here, and I came back to fulfill it.” There. She could answer evasively, couldn’t she? He could interpret that how he wanted.
“Hm… but you haven’t taken your final vows yet?”
Maria’s gaze snapped to his, indignant. “Becoming a nun is not an obligation of mine,” she responded sharply. Anymore, that is.
“I did not say that it was,” the Captain said, choosing not to comment on the hypocrisy of that with her earlier statement and instead taking a step closer. “I was simply curious as to why you haven’t taken your vows yet when you told me you returned here to do just that.”
“I never said that,” Maria protested.
“Yes, you did,” he countered. “In your letter. You said, and I quote, ‘I missed the Abbey too much to remain here any longer. I had a wonderful summer and I will miss the children dearly, but my future lies at Nonnberg and it is time I begin that future.’”
“You memorised it?” she asked, astonished. He nodded, continuing to come closer.
“I didn’t have much of a choice, I’m afraid. With seven children constantly asking where you were, I must have reread that letter until the words were burned in my mind.”
His gaze flickered then, and something told her that wasn’t the only reason he’d had her parting words memorised.
“...Well, I never explicitly said I was going to take my vows, did I?” Maria pointed out feebly, struggling to guide the conversation back to a ground she was comfortable with.
“Not in the way you are insinuating, it seems. However, the meaning of your letter was clear.”
“Maybe not, considering you misunderstood it.”
“Did I?” he challenged, finally coming to a stop less than a foot from her. His eyes were a deep blue in the darkness of the night, burning into hers with an intensity that made her feel like he could see right through her. “Or did you change your mind?”
She tilted her chin up, forcing herself to keep her eyes steady on his. “I didn’t change my mind,” she said bravely, though her voice trembled slightly. “I came back here of my own volition, and I have stayed for the same reason.”
“Then why don’t I believe you?” he murmured, his voice low and gaze calculating. Maria took in a shuddering breath, looking away before his gaze seared her any more than it already had. She stepped away from him, keeping her eyes resolutely on the archway that led back into the church.
“I don’t know, Captain,” she said steadily, hoping he couldn’t hear the tremble of her voice. “I’ve given you my reasons and it cannot be my fault if you don’t believe me.”
“It’s not your fault, Maria,” he said from where he still stood, unmoving from where she’d stepped away. Her heart lurched at the lack of “Fraulein,” but she forced herself not to react as she continued speaking. “I am simply curious as to why you left us so abruptly.”
“And I’ve told you why. If you don’t believe me–”
“I don’t,” the Captain said simply, and she whirled on him.
“Then why are you here?” she hissed, venom in her tone and ice in her eyes. “If you’re under the impression I lied to you, abandoning your family and escaping back to the prison you seem to believe the Abbey is for me, why did you come out here after me?”
She’d meant to find out why he’d followed her out of the nave and to the courtyard, but the words landed too close to home for the Captain. Why had he come after her, when she’d done just as she said: lied and used the Abbey as an excuse to run away from him?
“Because I had to!” he snapped, glaring at her with as much anger and torment as was in her eyes too. “I had to see you one last time.”
She scoffed, disbelieving. “Oh, please,” she said scornfully. “You had months to come see me. I left in August, Captain, and it is December, if you’re somehow unawares. You should have come before I’d already made my decision. Before you were married.”
The Captain frowned when she’d mentioned this mystery decision of hers, fully intending to inquire about that, when he’d become distracted by her second statement. Married.
No. Did she think he had–
“Married? What do you mean?”
She gave him an incredulous look. “What do you not understand by that, Captain? It’s why I chose not to return to the villa in the first place, much less tell you I–”
She quickly clamped her mouth shut, realising she’d just been about to confess what she’d sworn she could never tell him now, but the Captain still seemed wholeheartedly caught up on her remark about his marriage.
“Maria,” he began. “Are you under the impression that I–”
But Maria never got to find out just what he thought she was under the impression of, for there was a loud smattering of applause from just inside the church. Maria’s eyes widened. Had they missed the entire caroling part of the ceremony?
“I have to go,” she said hurriedly, already starting to rush past him. “I must return before the Holy Communion–”
The Captain’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm as he scurried by, catching her before she could go any further.
“Maria,” he said urgently. “You must understand that I never–”
“Let me go, Captain!” she exclaimed, wrenching her arm from his grasp and turning to run back into the Abbey. “And stop calling me Maria!”
Georg watched her go, his mouth agape and frozen in place.
Oh God, had she thought this entire time that he and Elsa had been married?
He hadn’t thought the news of their engagement had been spread that far by the time they agreed to break it off. If he’d known she thought he and Elsa were married, if that was why she hadn’t returned to the villa–
Because what was it she had said? That his supposed marriage was the only reason she hadn’t come back to tell him… what? She’d never finished her sentence, and he hadn’t gotten to find out.
Georg began pacing, a relentless walk back and forth across the small courtyard. The snow had really begun to pick up now, but he barely noticed it as he paced, his head swimming with possibilities.
Was it possible… or was he just imagining it… did Maria feel the same about him as he felt about her?
He’d been sure there had been something between them over the summer, but that she hadn’t wanted to pursue it and had decided to return to the safe haven the Abbey provided her. For a while there after she’d left, he hoped she’d return. But as the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, he’d had to accept she likely wasn’t coming back.
And why would she have? he realised in horror. She thought you’ve been married this entire time.
The pieces were starting to fall into place now, forming a terrifying picture that was becoming all too clear to Georg. She’d left because of him, and had continued to stay away because of him. He hadn’t gone after her because he’d thought that was what she wanted, when in reality she only thought he didn’t want her. And now, they were months deep into a horrible mess that Georg wasn’t sure he could fix. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to fix it!
But one thing was certain, and that was that he had to try. He’d regret it his entire life if he let her get away again now, just after things finally became clear to him.
When there still might be a chance.
It was that thought that spurred him to spin on his heel and race after Maria into the Abbey.
Maria made it back to where the rest of the congregation was, just in time to receive a bit of the Holy Communion. She accepted the bread and wine, trying in vain to keep her heart from racing any faster. She was sure it was pounding so fast anyone would be able to see the imprint of it against her chest.
The Captain was doing it again. He was throwing her life into disarray, making her question everything she’d previously been sure of. He’d seemed astounded to know she was aware of his marriage to the baroness, and even more shocked she hadn’t taken her vows yet.
Was it really so surprising, she wondered bitterly as she returned to her spot among the congregation of nuns, when he’d been subtly pushing her to not take those very same vows all summer? Did he think all of the doubts she’d voiced to him about her chosen path had suddenly vanished the second she’d returned to the Abbey?
Not likely, she thought wryly to herself as she watched the last few people accepting the Holy Communion. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.
She dared not question why he was here in the first place. He certainly hadn’t come just to talk to her, if his speechlessness when he’d seen her again had anything to say about it. And yet, a small part of her wondered if perhaps he’d been hoping to see her, just as she’d hoped to see him whenever her errands brought her to places he frequented?
You’re being ridiculous, she chastised herself. He is just a confusing man who has the utterly infuriating ability of making you question everything.
And she wouldn’t let him get the best of her tonight. No, she would keep her distance for the remainder of time he was at the service, and then excuse herself back to her room as soon as she could. By next week, she would be leaving for Vienna and then she’d never see him again.
With the service over, the church goers began to filter out of the nave, led by the Reverend Mother. Maria remained with the rest of the congregation of nuns, waiting for their turn to leave when a flurry of movement drew her attention. It was the Captain, rushing in against the crowd of people leaving, frantically searching the faces of everyone he passed.
“Oh, no,” Maria moaned, quickly looking for somewhere to hide behind. Her eyes latched onto Sister Margaretta, but the nun wasn’t meeting her eyes. Desperately, she settled for directing her attention down to the floor. If she could just escape his notice–
“Maria!”
Her head shot up at the sound of him calling her name, and eyes widened to see him pushing his way towards her.
“Captain, what are you doing?!” she exclaimed, aware he was attracting quite a lot of attention from those trying to leave.
“I have to talk to you,” he said urgently, reaching out and grabbing onto the wooden fence that separated the nuns from the rest of the congregation. Maria quickly began sideling to her left, trying in vain to push past the nuns still walking towards the exit.
“Here? Now? The service has barely even ended, Captain! This is much too inappropriate, and–”
“Maria, please–” He reached out and caught her hand, and she froze. He looked at her with pleading eyes, and her heart broke just a little.
After this, there wouldn’t be another chance to speak with him. She’d be gone and he’d be… well, she wasn’t sure where he’d be. He’d insinuated over the summer that should the need to leave Austria arise, he would go. And with each passing day, it seemed that need was becoming closer to reality.
This was her last chance.
“Please,” he repeated, voice no more than a whisper.
She chanced a glance around. The room was emptying out, save for a few stragglers still making their way towards the door and– her breath caught in her throat– the Reverend Mother, who stood at the door, giving her an indecipherable look before disappearing.
Slowly, she turned back around to face the Captain, who hadn’t moved and was still clutching her hand like his life depended on it. She removed her hand from his grasp and he closed his eyes, something akin to pain flickering across his expression before he stepped back.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “If this is what you wish–”
“No, I’m just–” Maria hastily opened the gate to step out towards him, letting it swing shut behind her with a soft click. “I was simply coming to join you,” she explained weakly. The Captain’s eyes had shot open again and began regarding her carefully.
He took a step forward and she drew back. He stopped, but the look in his eyes shifted to one of cautious hope.
“You’re not going to run away from me again, are you?” he asked warily, and she shook her head, smiling a little awkwardly.
“No,” she whispered, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. “I won’t.”
He gave her an exhausted little half-smile. “Good, because Maria–”
“Please stop calling me that,” she breathed before she could stop herself, the words escaping her lips softly but desperately. He’d never called her that before, and it was just too painful now. A reminder of what she could never have.
“Why?” he asked, frowning. “It’s your name.”
“Yes, but I don’t call you G–” she stopped herself before she said his name, taking a shaky breath. “It isn’t appropriate. Not now.”
“How is it not appropriate? You aren’t a nun.”
Maria bit her tongue before she could ask what that had to do with anything. It was important to him, that much was clear.
“Yes, but–” She steeled herself– “but your wife wouldn’t like it.”
The Captain stared at her in confusion, and she looked away. What else was there to say? The baroness had never liked the bond between her intended and his governess. Maria had been the subject of many dirty looks and biting remarks, not to mention the so-called advice Baroness Schraeder had given her before she left the villa. She’d been hurt at the time, and she still was, but she knew the baroness hadn’t been wrong. Baroness Schraeder’s intentions had been less-than upstanding, absolutely, but in the end she’d been right about the Captain and Maria. He didn’t love her.
“Maria,” he interjected, and she gave him a sharp look, which he ignored. He’d never been one to listen the first time, anyways.
“Maria,” he continued more insistently, “I don’t have a wife.”
Maria’s stomach plummeted. “But… the baronnes–”
“There isn’t any baroness,” the Captain told her emphatically. “She and I parted ways shortly after you ran– ahem, after you returned to the Abbey.”
Maria could only stare at him. “Why?”
He shook his head slowly. “It wasn’t right,” he said, taking a couple of tentative steps towards her again. This time, she didn’t shrink away.
Something had changed.
“Why wasn’t it right?” she asked breathlessly, suddenly feeling the need to reach out and place her hand on the pew for support.
He wasn’t meeting her eyes, but he continued to walk towards her. Slowly.
“Well, it was simple, really. I couldn’t marry her when I was…” his voice trailed off then and she found herself half-fearing what he had to say next. He was uncharacteristically nervous, not meeting her eyes.
“Yes?” she prompted softly, and he chuckled, a little wryly.
“Well, it appears I’ve made a mess of things now,” he said enigmatically. She frowned, quirking an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” she asked carefully, and he gave her a little half-smile.
“This,” he explained, gesturing a hand to the large nave they were in. “I made you run off and now– well, now you’ll barely look at me, let alone explain why you never took your vows.”
“This again?” Maria cried, getting an awful sense of déjà vu from the amount of times he’d questioned her career choice while at the villa. Not to mention, she also thought he was just about to tell her—
Well, it didn’t matter what she thought. Clearly, she had been wrong.
“Captain, in case you aren’t aware, my business is just that: my business!” she snapped.
“But I want it to be my business too, don’t you see?” he exclaimed, stepping closer again and this time she actually did turn away for a moment, stalking further down the aisle in agitation.
“Why?” she asked incredulously, whirling back around to face him. “You didn’t care when I ran off all those months ago; why should you now?”
The words were out of her mouth before she could bite her tongue to hold them back. She glared at him from her place at the front of the nave, fists clenched and chest heaving. He stood a ways away, partly shrouded in darkness and with that stony look in his eyes she’d come to be so familiar with.
“Because, Maria, whatever happens next has the ability to change our lives forever!”
“Oh, must you be so cryptic?!” she exclaimed in frustration, throwing her hands up and pointing an accusing finger at him. “This conversation is finished, Captain, and you would do well not to come see me again.”
She began to stalk past him, only for his hand on her wrist to stop her yet again when she went to pass.
“I am not trying to be cryptic, Maria, I am–” He paused, scoffing to himself and raising his eyes heavenwards– “God, I don’t even know what I’m doing! But I do know one thing,” he said, fixing her with a heart-stoppingly serious look. “And that is that I am not letting you get away.”
“Why?” she asked, breathless. He was still clutching her wrist, the heat of his hand spreading throughout her skin and making her feel very warm and like she was teetering on the edge of something very dangerous.
“Because you are right about one thing, Fraulein,” he said, stepping closer until they were nearly toe-to-toe. “And that is that I shouldn’t have let you run away to begin with.”
“What does that have to do with this?” she asked, even though she got the feeling it had everything to do with whatever was about to happen.
“It was the biggest mistake of my life, Maria,” he said softly. “But I can promise you one thing. And that is that I am damn well not going to let it happen again.”
And he kissed her.
The first touch of his lips on hers caught her by surprise. He was gentle but firm, kissing her like he wasn’t sure if she wanted it.
But she did.
Oh Lord, she did.
She leaned into him immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck like she’d done a thousand times in her dreams. He deepened the kiss with an almost bruising intensity, his arms sliding to her waist and gripping her against him, making sure every inch of his body was pressed up against hers. She held him tightly to her, barely able to comprehend that he was actually here, actually kissing her–
She wrenched her mouth away from his.
“What was that?!” she exclaimed, panicked and breathless. The Captain had frozen, one of his hands still on her torso and the other stroking down her arm.
“I… I thought–” he stammered, eyes roving between hers frantically. He looked alarmed, like he’d just completely misinterpreted the situation.
Had he?
Maria hadn’t moved from his arms. Her hands were still tangled in his hair and her mouth was still inches from his. Other than their heavy breaths, the church was silent. She couldn’t even hear the murmur of the remaining guests or nuns from beyond the doors. It was just them.
And it felt right. He hadn’t misunderstood.
Before she couldn’t second guess herself, she rose up on her tiptoes, pressed a gentle hand to his cheek, and kissed him. He exhaled hard against her cheeks, pulling her against him with a desperate relief.
“Thank God.”
She wasn’t sure whether it had been him or her who had said that, but she couldn’t bring herself to care anymore because she finally kissing him–
He broke the kiss after a moment and pressed his forehead to hers, slowing his breathing down. “Maria,” he whispered, lightly brushing her cheek with his hand. She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his neck again and allowing herself to meld her body to his. He tightened his grip on her, beginning to feather kisses across her face.
“Oh, can this be happening to me?” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.
“I assure you, it is,” he told her quietly and she couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled past her lips. He drew back, raising a questioning eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing! It’s just that– well, I was about to run back to my room if you hadn’t stopped me earlier. And so this… wouldn’t be happening.” she explained with a small smile, enjoying the way he chuckled too, pressing another kiss to her cheek.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Fraulein,” he hummed. “Because I wouldn’t have let you get away again.”
“Oh, really?” she asked. “And why’s that?”
“Because I love you, Maria,” he said honestly. She inhaled a little sharply, tightening her grip on his neck. If he saw surprise or fear in her eyes, he didn’t back away. He just kept his gaze steady on hers, smoothing a hand across her back.
“I love you,” he repeated with that same intensity, “and I will never let you run away again. I’ll die before you get away without a ring on your finger.”
For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her again, but he didn’t. He just continued to stand there, holding her and swaying slightly. He was waiting for her to say something. Not expecting her to confess her mutual love, but waiting.
She pressed her lips to his.
“Good,” she whispered shakily after a moment. “Because I don’t intend to run.