Chapter Text
One look, dark room
Meant just for you
November 29th
Captain Georg Ludwig Ritter von Trapp, decorated as he was with medals and military honors, was a patient man. Submarine warfare demanded it. To hunt and sink an enemy U-Boat or warship required an endless reserve of patience, a gift for timing, and a not insignificant stroke of luck. These same skills were also his key to success in the many events of a stuffy Viennese society, surrounded by gossiping boars.
And bores.
He hid a small smile behind his champagne flute, lest one of the gentlemen speaking rather animatedly at him and Max mistake his upturned lips as interest in the conversation. Blue eyes perused the lobby again, anxious for the shine of a blonde bob and his daughter’s dark curls. Captain von Trapp may have been a patient man, but Georg, the father and fiancé, was decidedly not.
Liesl and her former governess had left him alone among the glittery gowns and formal jackets at the Wiener Staatsoper entrance with some excuse of a powder room and a casual promise to meet him at the entrance to their box. He’d lost sight of them almost immediately, the swarm of eager theater goers swallowing them up like the sea devours a drop of rain.
Now, almost fifteen minutes later, the fingers on his left hand were as restless as his gaze.
“Georg, you could at least pretend to be enjoying yourself,” his friend spoke through is teeth. Exercising an iota of his famed patience, Georg resisted an eye roll and brought his attention away from the last glimpse of Maria’s navy dress.
“I am having a lovely time, Max. This room is just too warm.” Georg pulled at his bow tie, aiming for plausibility, but it did not convince the shorter man, who huffed and turned back to their old comrades in arms.
Watching the room out of the corner of one eye and observing his fellow retirees with the other, Georg made an honest attempt to care about former Commander Schwartz’ account from their days as cadets.
“Surely you remember the small herd, Georg! Wasn’t your class on Saida as well?”
“Yes, some of us were. I can’t say I recall anyone bringing goats aboard, though. Rats on the other hand…” Those around him chuckled and Léon Schwartz guffawed. The man was clearly drunk and privately Georg doubted his ability to remember anything from the previous five minutes, let alone a tale from twenty-five years prior.
“Ah, yes, well perhaps it was rats. Either way, I’ll never forget the First Officer’s screams”. Another round of full-bellied laughs. Max joined in, despite never having set foot on a ship or submarine in his life. Whether it was a goat or a rat, the Saida’s second-in-command sharing his bunk with a furry animal was a delightful tale.
A flash of navy silk floated through his periphery and as the lobby lights flickered once, then again. He followed it to find his fiancée and daughter approaching the stairs to the upper level.
Turning to his friend, he saw that Max, too, had caught sight of their companions and was already making excuses on his behalf.
“Gentlemen! I’m afraid not only is our performance about to begin, but Georg and I must be off. You see, the good Captain’s brought his seventeen-year-old daughter tonight and she must be protected!”
This time he did not resist the urge to roll his eyes as the men surrounding them laughed once again. As he moved to deposit his glass on a nearby table, a comment made in jest or poor taste, likely both, found his ears.
“Well, he had to bring her – his young bride needs someone her age around to speak to!” Jaw clenched, Georg was ready to whip back around when Max grabbed his arm preempting the movement.
“She only looks young, Stephan, you know. Georg is not one to rob cradles!” Laughter followed the impresario’s comment as he started to force the stoic Captain toward the grand staircase. “Come now, my friend, you know they are only joking.”
Georg grunted and his brow furrowed further.
Since he and Maria had confessed their love for one another, the number of times he’d actually been allowed to spend time with his betrothed could be counted on one hand. They’d been separated almost immediately to protect her reputation. She left his home and her post as a governess as scheduled in September to stay for a few months here in Vienna with his sister. The separation was intended to quell the nastiest of rumors and also give her some time to adjust to the idea of aristocratic society.
For the most part, the wild stories and scandalous tales had abated with each event she attended at Hede von Trapp’s side. Even Elsa could not combat the truth for long and Viennese society was getting over the Salzburg summer’s turmoil. This late-November opera was their first joint event without Hede and Georg, for one, was thrilled.
Although he would bring the children to visit both their aunt and their beloved Fräulein every few weeks, he was tired of the constant back and forth. And, having finally accepted love in his life again, he was ready to continue to the marriage. A long engagement was all well and fine when he had been stuck on U-Boat patrols – and when he didn’t know what he was missing! – but he hadn’t been alone with Maria since August. More than missing the physical aspects of a relationship, Georg found it was the conversation and Maria’s wicked sense of humor he longed for during the long days while the children were at school. Despite their rocky start, he found he rather liked his fiancée and was eager to be her husband.
Even though he wouldn’t be truly alone with her tonight, it was understood between the group that Max and Liesl would be discreet. Max because he, despite his flaws and first rate status as a mooch, was a true friend. His daughter was just excited to finally be allowed to attend a performance.
“Oh do stop frowning, Georg. You know as well as I this is the end of such things!”
“Of the comments? No, I don’t think so. They will follow us for longer – just come January I won’t have to bite my tongue.” He was still scowling when the entered the box a few moments later.
Max sighed and he followed Georg through the curtains to join the ladies. “Maria, dear, I do hope you can cheer him up. He’s been an absolute grump this evening!”
She laughed good-naturedly, and stepped away from her almost stepdaughter to greet Max genially with a brief embrace. Before she could respond that Georg’s moods were something of a lost cause, even to her, the brunette leaning almost precariously over the edge of their box spun around.
“Oh, father! How could you be? I thought the lobby was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen until we stepped in here.” Liesl’s gushing brought a smile to his face, but it was the proximity to his fiancée that truly brought him out of his mood.
“I must just be a grouch then, daughter mine.” Liesl gave a rather distracted laugh and resumed her focused appraisal of the venue, ignoring her father and allowing him to greet Maria. She turned her beaming smile on him and the hubbub of hundreds of socialites, the grandeur of the ceiling, and their fellow box occupants fell away.
“Hello, darling.”
Georg felt the tension leave his body for the first time since she’d evaded him at the lobby entrance. In lieu of words, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her body flush against his. He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple and used the proximity to breathe in the scent of her soap, delicate perfume, and something uniquely her. The overall experience reminded him of a warm summer day in the mountains.
“I’ve missed you,” she spoke to his jacket as her gloved hands slipped around his middle to complete an embrace that was decidedly less brief than the one she’d given his friend.
Since entering the box, Max had taken it upon himself to regale his “niece” with extravagant theater stories. He only looked back once to find his oldest friend was looking rather comfortable as he lead his fiancée to the seats behind them. Max winked at the couple and resumed his job as chaperone by ensuring their daughter never had reason to glance back.
With that, the theater lights dimmed, and the show began.
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Maria settled next to her fiancé, doing her best not to fidget, but she felt that tonight it would be a losing battle. Despite appearing in public on Georg’s arm since his sister launched her into society, it was still a bit disconcerting. She was certainly more confident than she’d been just a few weeks ago even, but tonight was among her last in Hede’s chaotic townhouse. Her future sister-in-law and she would be traveling to Salzburg for the upcoming Advent and by mid-week she’d be back in the Von Trapp Villa for the first time since hanging up her hat as the governess.
This time, upon her arrival, she would be taking over duties as mistress of the household and stepmother to seven wonderful children. And wife to their father.
She loved Georg, and that love had only grown through weekly telephone calls, near daily letters, and his regular visits to Vienna. Some trips, like this one, he would bring one or two of the children. Others, the entire brood would board the train and the whole lot of them would make it a weekend adventure. Even with the chaos her family brought, those were the visits Maria loved most.
Love, however, was nothing to the aristocratic elite. Snobs, as Georg would call them. The man in question silently reached over and stilled her restless fingers. His own digits wove between the white of her gloves and warmth spread from where they connected directly to her heart. She braved a glance his way, and found him intently focused on the performance.
Her eyes were back on the stage, but her focus remained elusive throughout the first act. His hand remained, and though it calmed her body, her mind was spinning. One moment she was as enraptured as Liesl and four bars later she was back in her spiral. By the time the lights were raised for intermission, she was certain she could not have identified the name of the opera, let alone describe the plot if asked.
Max and Liesl immediately started a lively debate on the merits of the lead soprano, which Maria normally would have joined. Instead she remained seated and quiet, Georg’s hand still in her grasp. A soft tug from that same hand brought her focus away from the empty stage.
“Maria?” She met Georg’s eye as they stood. “What’s troubling you?”
She knew he would see through any attempts at deflection, but couldn’t quite put into words what exactly was bothering her. She settled for a truth and maybe he would let it be.
“I am excited to be going back to Salzburg in a few days.” His eyes narrowed slightly, and Maria could practically feel him trying to read what she hadn’t said. Yes, she was nervous. No, she didn’t regret her choice. Yes, she still wants to marry him. Yes, she’s missed the children. Not wanting to worry him further, she smiled and pushed her fears to the back of her mind.
“There’s a calendar in the school room, you know. Louisa has been marking the days.” Her smile grew. Her sea Captain really did know her well.
“So I’ve been told – every letter she’s sent has listed the date as a countdown rather than the actual day and month!” They both laughed at this briefly and he finally dropped her hand only to place it on the small of her back, guiding her away from their seats to stand at the back of the box.
Brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face, he smile at her softly. “You can tell me, I want to help however I can. Even if I can’t change anything, I will listen.”
She focused on the knot of his bow tie, “I know. Thank you. I think, after the show?” His response was to pull her close to him again while they turned towards the other two occupants. She let him; she was uncertain if she was ready to divulge the nature of her nerves, but regardless, this was not the place. Nor was the audience suitable should she be overheard.
“Fräulein,” Liesl started, “is this what the opera has been like every time?” The girl had apparently given up her debate with Max, or he had, if the chagrined look on the man’s face was any indication.
“How do you mean, darling?”
“The singers are so talented! And the orchestra is just incredible. I can’t imagine they’ve ever been beginners. They play so well!” Liesl’s recent venture into learning the guitar and relearning the piano had certainly given her some appreciation for the musicians.
“Oh, but they had to start at the beginning, Liesl. Just like you and me. Talent is no substitute for practice and dedication, it just makes things a little easier sometimes.”
“Yes, I’m sure they all irritated their families with fumbling fingers and missed chords,” Georg teased his daughter. Maria glanced heavenward briefly, hoping the younger woman didn’t take offense. One of the reasons she pulled Maria away before the show had been to express her mixed feelings on learning the piano from her father. She was enjoying the guitar much more, but did not want to disappoint him. There was still a sense of fragility surround some aspects of Georg’s rekindled relationship with the children and Liesl, in particular, sometimes struggled to reconcile the man her father was now with who he’d masqueraded as for those four long years.
The other reason had been a distinct lack of telegrams delivered after hours. And, in school, the continued absence of the young man delivering them. Maria would certainly be talking to Georg about the piano lessons, but the matter of Rolfe would take a lighter touch.
“Father, I’ve heard you miss a note, you know. You’re good, but these musicians are so much better!” Everyone laughed at her fiancé’s expense, with him joining them sportingly.
There was much for Liesl and her to discuss, but the opera seemed to have had a soothing effect on her mood and Maria endeavored to let the second act do the same for her.
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When the performance resumed, Liesl did her best to stay focused on the artistry happening before her. Fräulein Maria had seemed quiet at intermission, but she let herself glance back at the woman and her father only once. When the lead soprano flawlessly sung a particularly complicated coloratura, she heard Maria gasp quietly in appreciation and a bit of awe.
When Liesl looked, Father was not watching the stage, but rather his future wife. The look in his eyes was reminiscent of the times before – when her own mother was still living - and yet the intensity was so much more. Maria, for her part, was leaning into him slightly and held one of his hands between both hers, gloves abandoned, gaze focused entirely on the stage. Liesl was naïve in the ways of romance, her failings with Rolf had made that abundantly clear, but she was certain of the bond between her Father and Maria.
Cheeks and ears flushing, she turned back around, feeling as if she’d observed something very private. Still, she smiled; they both deserved happiness and love.