Disclaimer: 'Sound of Music' and all things related to it don't belong to me. I'm only playing in its beautiful world for fun.

Author's Note: After years of loving 'Sound of Music', I've finally given in and started writing this, my first 'Sound of Music' fanfic. I've always wanted to know how the Captain fell in love with Maria and this is my attempt at writing it! Enjoy.

Something Good

Chapter 1

Captain Von Trapp shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his tie, tossing them both carelessly onto a chair as he paced a little restlessly around his room.

His steps slowed and then stopped as he reached the small nightstand by his bed, his gaze fixating on the small portrait of Agathe sitting there.

He sighed, picking up the portrait and sitting on the bed as he stared broodingly at it, his eyes half-absently wandering over the familiar and so dear features, the bright smile, of his wife. Liesl had Agathe's smile, although she didn't take after Agathe in much else. It had made looking at Liesl, seeing her smile, almost unbearably painful to him for the first few months after Agathe had died.

He'd found thoughts of Agathe returning to haunt him more and more in these last days. It almost dismayed him to realize just how much he'd closed himself off from emotions, from thinking about Agathe, at first because it pained him too much and then out of habit. But now, with the sound of laughter and songs in the house, there were times it seemed very much like Agathe, too, should be there.

Agathe… Strange but it still seemed almost odd to him sometimes when he thought about Agathe's dying. She had been so young, so pretty, so full of life and love and laughter that the very idea that she could die had seemed ludicrous, still did at times, even now, years afterwards. It was, he supposed, what had made his pain and his grief so much greater, that in spite of her illness, he'd never really thought, never been able to imagine, that Agathe could die. And when she had…

It had seemed as if she'd taken all the light in the world with her, as if the very sun shone less brightly after she'd gone. And he'd retreated, helplessly, instinctively, like a wounded animal, back to what he knew best, the familiar order and regulations of the Navy. It had been all he could think to do, in his blind grief and his sudden helplessness, left with seven young children who were all bereft and looking to him when he felt as helpless as any child. Looking to him for direction when all he could think was that he didn't know what to do for them, didn't know how to take care of them… All he could think of was Discipline, a word that had been drummed into him in the Navy and that he'd embraced because of all the security and the order it had represented for him… Without Agathe, in a world that seemed to have become very cold and very empty, the order of Discipline had seemed like his best and safest refuge.

He could understand that now, could understand just why he had reacted the way he had. He could understand it—but he couldn't quite forgive himself for it yet.

He'd lost so much time, wasted so much precious time… Again, he heard Fraulein Maria's voice in his mind, the words returning to him as it had repeatedly in the days following, haunting him with its truth—and its threat. You're never home long enough to know them… You won't even know her!

But then, again, like a benediction and a promise, he also heard her words later, after he'd apologized. There's still time, Captain. They want so much to be close to you.

He looked down at Agathe's portrait but this time, suddenly, instead of seeing the familiar features of his wife, the face he saw had changed, the hair darkened into a deeper gold tinged with red and cut short, the eyes blue instead of gray, and instead of Agathe, he saw her, his children's governess, Fraulein Maria…

He blinked and the portrait was Agathe again but he felt another stab of guilt, of uncertainty, and he put the portrait down, standing up again to pace.

Good God, what was happening to him?

The events of that evening played out in his mind again—the puppet show and hearing his children's voices singing and, soaring above them all, always the clear, sweet voice of his children's governess, and then later, when she'd been standing in front of him, holding out the guitar, the invitation in her words and her gesture repeated in her eyes—her so very blue eyes—and her smile…

He'd looked at her and even as the first "no" had escaped his lips, he'd known he was going to give in. Even if he could resist her—and he'd suddenly doubted whether he could, at least at that moment—he knew he couldn't resist his children, not the eager smiles on Gretl's and Marta's faces, not the persuasion of Friedrich, not the gentle urging he could see in Liesl's face and hear in her voice, not the quietly earnest request he'd seen in Louisa's eyes…

He hadn't touched a guitar to play it in years but the notes had returned to him with surprising ease, the melody and the lyrics of the sweet, old song he loved so much returning to him as if it had never left.

Edelweiss, edelweiss…

His eyes had wandered lovingly over each one of his children's faces, remembering singing this song to his children as a lullaby, seeing Agathe bending over Marta and then Gretl in their cradles humming along with the song…

Marta and Gretl who had grown so much in these past couple years…

You look happy to meet me…

His eyes had wandered to where Fraulein Maria stood leaning against the wall and he'd given her a small smile as he said the words, wondering if she had any idea how grateful he was to her. She was the one who'd given his children back to him, given his life back to him, and he'd realized more and more in these past days of watching her with his children just how much she'd done for his children as well. Their faces were brighter, their smiles more frequent and eager, their laughter more ready—and that, too, was because of her… He hadn't missed how Gretl seemed to gravitate towards her, or how his little Marta, always a shy one, smiled and laughed more freely in Fraulein Maria's presence…

She'd smiled, softly, back at him and he'd felt a wave of warmth in his chest before he'd looked back at his children.

Bloom and grow…

His eyes went from little Gretl and the small, wistful smile on her face, to Brigitta, who looked as if she were remembering other times when he and Agathe had sang this song to them, to Louisa, who looked so much like a young Agathe it gave his heart a little pang to see her sometimes, to Kurt, his little lad with Agathe's gray eyes, to Marta and her shy, small smile, and then to Friedrich, who'd grown so tall, and finally to his Liesl. Liesl, his lovely daughter, who was growing into such a lovely young lady…

Bloom and grow forever… It was what he wished for his daughters, that they would continue to bloom and to grow, ever lovelier, into women…

He'd looked over at Elsa, seeing all her cool beauty and her elegance, as he smiled at her. He'd meant what he'd told her that afternoon they'd first returned to the villa, that she'd been the first one to bring some meaning back to his life, and for that, he would always be grateful. He cared for her, even loved her, in a way…

He'd gestured with his head to Liesl to join him and she had, blending her clear, young voice with his, much as they had used to. And he'd seen in her eyes the memories of the times they'd done this in happier years past, remembered a day when Liesl as a very young girl had climbed into his lap and told him to teach her the song and so he had, singing every line slowly so she could repeat it back to him, until she'd learned the entire song and they had sung it together…

How could he have forgotten this? How could he have let himself waste these precious years of his children growing up?

And what would he have done if a certain, impertinent and outspoken Fraulein hadn't told him what he was doing?

On the thought, the wave of gratitude, he'd looked back up at Fraulein Maria as she'd leaned against the wall and that was when it had happened. He'd managed to finish the song although he hardly remembered doing so. The sight of her at that moment had hit him in the chest like a physical blow. His eyes had met hers and for the moment, the room, the rest of the world, had faded as he could only stare…

He'd known she was quite a pretty young woman—surprisingly young and surprisingly pretty—but it was only in that moment, seeing her, in that soft, blue dress, that he'd realized she was more than just pretty. In that moment, she'd been beautiful, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen…

And he'd wanted her. It was a visceral thing, a sharp, sudden surge of desire and longing, not purely physical, and stronger than anything he'd felt in years. Looking at her in that moment, he'd just wanted her, all of her, wanted her vitality and her passion and her joie de vivre, wanted her beauty…

He remembered that moment now, remembered the sudden surge of feeling, with another flare of shock mingled in with guilt.

He glanced down at the portrait and sighed, words escaping him almost of their own volition. "Ah, Agathe, I'm sorry."

He was sorry. Oddly enough, the guilt he felt over the moment was mostly centered around Agathe and not Elsa, the living woman whom he cared for and was thinking of marrying. Guilt, not so much for wanting another woman, but because that surge of longing he'd felt had been more powerful than anything he'd ever felt for Agathe…

He hadn't felt guilt on Agathe's behalf over Elsa because some part of him had always felt, always known, that his feelings for Elsa would never be as strong or as deep as what he'd felt for Agathe. His desire for Elsa—and he did feel it—was… cooler, somehow, more restrained. It was more the desire he knew he should feel for a beautiful, charming woman whom he cared for than a true passion for her.

But this- the madness that had possessed him that evening when he'd looked at Fraulein Maria—it had shocked him, shaken him to his core with how intense the feeling had been, overwhelming him until it had taken him a few long moment before he'd realized what he was doing, that he was gazing at his children's governess with what he had no doubt was an unguarded expression, in full view of not only Elsa and Max but also all his children.

Good God, what had possessed him?

She was his children's governess. She would only be here for this summer. She was planning to become a nun!

(He still found it hard to believe that. The thought of Fraulein Maria, with all her youthful enthusiasm, living that cloistered life, all her exuberance tamed behind a habit, seemed so… wasteful… Her faith was strong, he knew enough of her now to know that, but it was such a vibrant thing that he couldn't imagine it tamed into a more reverent devotion. But it was her choice, he reminded himself. Her choice and he had no right to question it. He shouldn't even want to question it.)

He could feel gratitude for her, and yes, even some measure of affection, but no more.

And he loved Elsa, genuinely cared for her. He was probably going to marry her… He rather thought he should marry her…

His children needed a mother and he… He wanted a wife…

He sighed again, looking at Agathe's smiling face, and found himself addressing her, as he sometimes did when he was alone, in the bedroom they'd shared for so many years. "You don't mind, do you, Agathe?"

And he could swear he almost heard her voice in his mind. I want you all to be happy, Georg. I know you won't forget about me.

He smiled a little. No, he would never forget Agathe, his first love, the bride of his youth… The only woman he'd ever truly loved, because his feelings for Elsa, as sincere as they were, had never even approached what he'd felt for Agathe.

And yet… there had been that moment this evening… That moment, that endless look of gazing at her, his children's governess, the young woman who'd brought this entire house back to life, it seemed… And it had almost felt as if his heart, his very soul, had responded to the beauty of her in that moment, had yearned for her…

He shook himself, as if to clear his mind of the memory—the insanity.

It was impossible, he knew that.

She was his children's governess and he- he was seriously thinking of marrying Elsa.

Could he marry Elsa? Should he marry Elsa?

Did he truly want to marry her?

He loved her, he knew, cared for her, but it wasn't anything like the love he'd felt for Agathe—even the love he still felt for Agathe. It was… less than that, somehow, less deep, less intense. But perhaps that was just from age, from experience; he was no longer a young man with all a young man's passion and a young man's dreams.

He sighed again, returning the portrait to his nightstand and standing up to finish his preparations for bed.

He didn't know but he had the next few days, weeks even, to decide.

And he would, he resolved, keep his distance from Fraulein Maria. That way, there would be no further incidents of insanity.

~To be continued…