AUTHOR'S NOTES: I truly cannot believe that I am saying this, but here is the final chapter! I am so sorry it has taken months to get here.

It has come out completely differently from what I originally planned, but I really, really hope you enjoy it! (And I hope the structure isn't too confusing)

There will big a big soppy thank you at the end.

Better than a Dream

Chapter Twenty (Epilogue)

Maria settled back against the headboard with a gentle and contented sigh – her eyes never wandering from the tantalising sight of the moon as it illuminated the bedroom through the undrawn curtains. All felt right in the world. She allowed her eyes to slide shut as the moonlight danced over her skin in soft sweeps, and never before had she felt such a sense of belonging.

There had been moments like this in the past, of course, but it was only now, as she lay back in bed – awaiting the arrival of her husband – that she felt truly at peace with all that was happening in her world and everything that had brought her here. It had not always been so easy to accept her life as it had played out – her ideas and travelled paths had changed many times from what she had expected – and there had been a few moments when she had believed it all to be entirely too unfair, that her family had been through enough. But now, she knew that she never should have lost faith, for even after the further trails that the von Trapps had been put through, they found themselves – somehow – in a blissfully tranquil world. And Maria was so grateful.

All had seemed like perfection after their return from Paris, a dream from which they hoped they'd never be awakened; their new start back in Salzburg had brought about a wave of fresh, new belonging. As apprehensive as she had been when contemplating her new role as mother and lady of the villa, Maria took to it all with inspiring talent and not a single complaint left her lips. Of course, it hadn't all been smooth sailing, and once or twice – particularly when the staff needed greater orders or when the children found themselves in a shared temper – did Maria find herself longing for a change of pace or some peace and quiet , to revert back to the free-falling mountain girl, if only for a moment. But she never caved under the newfound pressures, never let her weaknesses turn her into something she knew she was not; and often, a simple breath of fresh air and a stroll past the lake would be enough to soothe her. That, and the loving embrace of her husband.

She would later recall, after such moments had occurred, that she had never sought him during her times of dismay – not that she didn't want to, of course – but whenever she needed him, he always seemed to find her, before she had even realised that the only cure was to be held in his arms. She wasn't sure how he did it, how he possessed such an otherworldly instinct, but, in the end, she decided it would be best not to question something so wonderful. His ability to find her in such moments, to know exactly what to do when she herself was unaware, was just something that was uniquely them; a melody that no one could compose nor copy, a poem that no scholar could analyse, and something far beyond anything anyone could ever fully believe in. Like the changing of the seasons, it was better not to ask why, but to instead let the beauty emerge as it has always been destined to do, let it change from dream to dream, from one beauty to the next and believe that it will always be there. Why question that?

"I am beyond proud of you" he would sometimes whisper when she was feeling particularly exasperated from her duties as baroness, and as soon as the words had left his lips, he would envelop her in his arms and allow her to mould herself against him. She would often say nothing in response, feeling it not quite right to thank him, but also knowing that he would gently chastise her if she deprecated herself verbally; instead she would remain silent, bury her face into his neck and take all the comfort that he was offering. If he wished to speak further, then she allowed him to do so.

"No one on earth could ever pretend that the tasks you have taken on are easy ones, and yet you take everything in your stride without verbalising a single complaint" he told her on another occasion.

"I don't know if a lack of verbalisation makes it any better" she murmured.

"I understand that such moments bring about a compelling need to criticise yourself, please don't listen to such urges, Maria"

She merely sighed in response.

"I know what you're thinking," he told her, "you're thinking that you can't possibly praise yourself for your resilience, because even though you haven't vocalised your stresses and complaints, they still exist"

"Well…" she murmured in indirect confirmation.

"You and I both know that this isn't true"

"But shouldn't I just be able to handle it all? It's both my calling and my duty now"

"You were hardly given enough time to prepare for all of these changes" he reasoned, "It's, of course, through no fault of your own, simply the way things worked out" he held her a little tighter, "You are handling things perfectly, Maria, no one could ever run a household as large as this one without the stress getting the better of them every once in a while, and few could do it without ever once complaining"

"I am trying" she told him, though, she suspected that it was more for her own reassurance than anything else.

"I know you are. And more importantly, you're succeeding"

And then, after holding her for a little while longer – just long enough to make sure that her worries had seeped away, he would close the discussion by placing a tender kiss on the crown of her head and leading her back to wherever she needed to be. And she would always feel reborn. Yet, as the world kept turning, their bliss was inevitably going to come to an end; for little over a month after Maria and Georg's return from Paris, the von Trapps had been forced to flee from Austria.

Her husband walked into the bedroom then, the top buttons of his shirt undone, his sleeves rolled up his arms and his shoes had been discarded at some point; she gave him a warm smile – to which he returned adoringly – for even after three years of marriage, she still found it thrilling to know the man behind the aristocratic mask. Of course, he had dropped such titles and social positions as soon as the family had left Austria, believing them to not only be null and void, but also wholly irrelevant when looking at the bigger picture. Not that she minded of course, whilst she had always been grateful for the life she lived after becoming a baroness, she always felt as though the title never truly suited her. It was far too stiff and stocky, and whilst she knew that she never had to change herself for Georg or the children, she knew she would have had to elsewhere – running the villa, attending social functions on Georg's arm, it all would have caught up with her. But she was not given enough time for any of that, none of them were.

"Still awake?" Georg asked gently as he peeled out of his shirt.

"Very much so" Maria chuckled in response, "but I don't mind so much, it is a lovely night, after all" she added as she nodded her head towards the view of the moon.

"It is indeed" he agreed wholeheartedly as he disappeared into the en suite.

Their escape from Austria had been far from easy, it had been dauting, gruelling and far beyond terrifying, there were times when both Maria and Georg had silently doubted whether or not they'd be able to succeed. But their children came before anything, and their desire to make sure that they remained safe pushed them through any of their fears. The festival that Max had so disloyally entered the children into became the perfect cover, and in spite of Zeller breathing down their necks the entire time, through sheer determination and help from the most trusted of friends, the von Trapps had managed to scramble their way over the alps and to safety.

Upon their arrival in Switzerland, they had been fortunate enough to come upon some lodgings that had just about fit the nine of them; it had been cramped to say the least, and tensions within the family had been higher than ever – Maria or Georg found themselves breaking up some kind of argument or squabble at least once a day – but they could hardly blame them. Most of the children were still so young, certainly far too young to have been dragged away from their home without a moments notice and pursued by Nazi threat, yet they had all handled it beautifully. Georg had never been so proud. Still, he knew that he had to get them out of Switzerland as soon as possible, it was not safe to stay so close to Austria, and the threats in mainland Europe had been rising. He knew there was only one person he could trust in such a time.

It had not been an easy letter to write, and his hand had trembled with guilt and shame for a long while before he was able to let the pen form words, but Georg knew that it was in the best interest of his family that he write this letter. And so, using his remorse as a driving force, he'd elegantly scribbled down all that needed to be said – in perfect British English. He had lost contact with Agathe's parents after her death, and even though he had thought of little else than his mourning in those years, he had always kept a horrid sort of guilt inside himself for wearing away the only contact the children had with their grandparents. He had corresponded with them somewhat after Maria had brought him out of the blackness, but there had been little substance to any of it. Simple – mostly emotionless – letters informing them that the children were well; but little else was said. He had written to them after his marriage to Maria, but only out of politeness, and – if he recalled correctly – he never read the response he'd been sent.

But things had taken a drastic turn, and he knew that he'd have to ignore any of their differences or sour emotions if he was going to do what was best for his wife and children. But the guilt was still there, and if the Whiteheads were generous enough to help them, then Georg truly hoped that he could rectify the damages that his neglect had caused over the years. The letter itself was simple: a plea for help. He had hidden nothing about the situation, explained in full detail that they had been forced to flee Austria in order for him to escape the clutches of the Third Reich, that he would rather suffer with the act of turning his back on his country if it meant that he didn't have to serve as a leader in a diabolical organisation. And most importantly, if it meant that he could keep his family safe. He did not ask for much, only shelter and their discretion, he didn't think he'd keep his family in England forever, but they needed to be safe and with people that he trusted; and, with his heart on his sleeve, Georg admitted that the Whiteheads were the only people he knew that fit such a delicate criteria. If he'd needed to, he would have begged.

Eventually, Georg had received a stoic yet positive response from Jonathan Whitehead, and, as soon as he could, Georg had gotten his family out of Switzerland; and after days of gruelling train rides and a final ferry, they had found themselves in England. The Whitehead estate lay out in the countryside of Hertfordshire, he knew that they'd be safe there, at least for a while. It was a grand place – to say the least – much grander than the villa they'd lived in back in Salzburg; no, the Whitehead estate was the epitome of the English aristocracy – it could easily satisfy royalty. The solid and intimidating structure of the two-tone brickwork towered over the expanse of the estate's greenery, and whilst one may try and distract themselves by looking at the surrounding forests, mazes or lakes, it was always the brilliant mastery of the Whitehead estate that commanded the attention of anyone who visited.

It had shocked Maria at first, she had already found herself trembling slightly at the prospect of meeting the Whiteheads – fearing they would reject her and see her as little more than a sorry excuse for their daughter's replacement – but upon seeing the house, she felt herself go white. It was simply impossible to ignore its elegance…and its prowess. Still, she did her best to not let her fears rise to the surface, she needed to be strong, after all, both for her children and her husband; and in spite of what the Whiteheads were going to think of her, she at least wanted to make a good impression – to show them that she had the strength her husband assured her that she possessed. So, she took a deep breath and laced her hand in Georg's as their approach to the house came to its end.

"What are you thinking about, Maria?" Georg questioned with a soft smile as he returned from the en suite.

"Who says I'm thinking about anything?" she jested lightly.

"Because, dear wife of mine, you seem to have your head in the clouds so often these days" he smirked.

"How very observant of you"

"Especially at this time of night too"

"Well, the moon has always compelled me to ruminate over the past, and there's little else to do whilst I wait for you" she said honestly enough.

"So, it's the past you're thinking about?"

"Mostly, yes. I don't like to dwell on it so much"

"And what was it that spark your interest this time?" Georg prompted.

"The first time I met Jonathan and Isobel Whitehead" she chuckled.

"Oh, what a headache that day was" Georg groaned almost humorously, "What's brought on the recollection of that particular memory?"

"I'm not too sure, I guess I've just been thinking things through"

"Things?" he asked.

"The objective chain of events – everything that led us to where we are now"

"That's quite a tale you're telling yourself"

Settling in with the Whiteheads had taken a lot of adjusting, the children took to it easy enough – since to them it was little more than the house of their grandparents – but for Maria, it was a whole new world to immerse herself in. The Von Trapp villa had been dauting enough all those months ago, and now she was diving head first into the English aristocracy. She had barely tasted enough of the Austrian upper-class to have any prior knowledge to go on, so she was expectantly terrified of how she'd handle the same fears in a completely different country. Moreover, her English really wasn't up to par.

"Hello, Lord and Lady Whitehead -" she spluttered out when Georg introduced her, "- it's a pleasure to meet you both"

Her accent was thick, and she paused far too often between words, but the sentence came out fluently enough, and to her palpable relief and delight, the Whiteheads not only understood her, but smiled admiringly at her valiant effort.

"Oh, Jonathan and Isobel will be fine, there's no need for us to bother with all the formalities and titles. We wouldn't call you 'baroness' after all" Jonathan chuckled – his RP accent* flowing with an aristocratic lilt.

Maria simply smiled; she had not fully understood the sentence, but it seemed friendly enough, and she knew what to call the pair now, at least.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Maria" Isobel addressed in a tone sweeter than Maria had expected, "Georg really hasn't told us much about you. It was actually a bit of a shock to learn that he'd married again"

Georg raised an eyebrow at his mother-in-law, hoping that she was simply being honest, rather than using the situation as a way to bully him or his wife. Perhaps fortunately, Maria did not detect these semantics.

"I don't know if there is much – uh – to be told about me" she said bashfully as she tried her best to conjugate into the stressful pedagogical tenses of English.

"Oh, nonsense, I'm sure you've got some fascinating stories – I highly doubt Georg would've married you otherwise"

Georg coughed slightly, hoping to prevent Maria from being made uncomfortable.

"Come along with me to the drawing room on the West side of the house and we can get properly acquainted"

"Isobel -" Georg interjected, "- I'm sure Maria would rather rest, we've had quite a long journey"

"Well, Maria? Would you rather rest?" Isobel suddenly inquired.

Maria found herself at a crossroads – suddenly more socially anxious than she ever felt before – as both Isobel and Georg looked at her expectantly.

"Well…umm, if you want to talk, we can talk" she eventually answered, not wanting to upset the woman who had given them a home.

"Wonderful! Don't worry about your luggage, one of the footmen will take it in for you"

"O-okay" Maria replied – rapidly translating in her head.

"Maria" Georg called before she was completely dragged into the manor.

She watched her husband approach her before leaning in and whispering in German…

"You don't have do anything you don't want to do, I'm sure Isobel means well, but don't let her hassle you or push you around. And don't worry about upsetting anyone"

Maria nodded in understanding.

"You've always got me, remember"

"I know" she replied – silently saying 'I love you' with her smile.

As Georg walked back to Jonathan, Isobel looked puzzled,

"What was all that?" she quizzed.

"I'm afraid I can't translate it" Maria shrugged.

Isobel then looked to Georg – not liking the fact that she couldn't understand something that had been said right in front of her.

"Nothing important" Georg beamed with too much gusto.

And with that, the two wives had disappeared into the manor.

It had taken both Maria and Georg some time to adjust to the ways of the English upper-class, the army of staff, the palace-like interior and the strict set of rules that seemed to go above and beyond what Maria had tasted in Austria. In fact, Maria felt quite jealous that the children seemed to take to it all without so much as a second glance, but after enough time, they settled in nicely, and life in the Whitehead manor began to feel like a comfortable normality. The children – and Maria – had politely refused the assistance of a governess, for they wanted to remain true to the close family unit that had come to light since Maria's very first day with the family; and in-between teaching and playing, Maria was surprised to discover that her English was improving. Mostly through the semi-forced afternoon tea sessions Isobel would convince her to take part in, she suspected. Isobel was a kind enough woman, a little boisterous sometimes – for a lady of her status – and sometimes a bit intimidating for someone like Maria, but she could not deny that all of her actions seemed to stem from kindness; and her hospitality was something that Maria was eternally grateful for.

No, Maria was more than overjoyed with the fact that the foreignness of the manor had eventually melted into something that they could call home, in spite of how difficult she found it; her family was safe and that's all she could ever ask for. But much like their time in Switzerland, their apparent bliss could not last forever. War began to spread through Europe as the German army mercilessly attempted to conquer country after country, spreading across the continent like a vicious web until it became clear that England would soon be dragged in to protect its allies. That was when Maria knew that their safety in England would only last so long, and she did not want to raise her children in a war-torn country; so, as the inevitable day drew closer, she and her husband both decided that they could not stay, not whilst the war was still following them.

It was a difficult decision to make, to drag the children from not only a seemingly safe and well-developed country, but away from their grandparents, knowing that there was no guarantee on the next time they'd meet. But after a very serious discussion with both his wife and his in-laws, Georg knew that he couldn't risk subjecting them to a life controlled by war. And, in his mind, there was only one logical place to move to next: America.

Georg moved over to the window and drew the curtains – the glimmer of the moon disappearing behind the fabric – before sitting at the foot of the bed and gazing at his wife – running a gentle hand over her lower leg through the duvet as he did so. She smiled back at him – her eyes still full of thoughtfulness.

"Sometimes I still feel some guilt about leaving England" she admitted on an exhale.

"You've nothing to feel guilty about"

"The children seemed so happy out there, and I know they enjoyed seeing their grandparents so often"

"You did not drag them away from all of that, Maria"

"Who knows when they'll next get to see them again"

"Whilst that may be true, we made the right decision to move the family over here. Even if we couldn't avoid the war completely, we brought them to the safest possible place"

"I can't argue with that" she admitted with a slight smile, "and they do all seem to be flourishing"

"It's been hard for them, but they've all seemed to find themselves here, and I'm so grateful for that"

"Rowdy as they could be, I never thought our children would be cut out for country life"

"I could say the same thing about myself" Georg chuckled.

"I think you've always had it in you. Even when I first met you, I always suspected that there was someone more reckless and carefree underneath that aristocratic front"

"And now you suffer with knowing the real me" he smirked.

"Woe is me" she sighed humorously.

He resisted the urge to slip his hand beneath the duvet and tickle her foot in punishment.

"In conclusion" Georg swayed, "don't feel guilty about the choices we made"

"We made the right choice" she agreed.

"Besides, think about how different our lives would be if we'd stayed closer to the war" Georg pondered with an adoring smile, and Maria knew exactly what he was referring to as his eyes fell to the small bundle in her arms.

They had lived in England for almost a year but managed to leave just before their involvement in the war became official, Georg knew that Hitler would not give in to the advances of Great Britain, and she would soon be the next victim of the Luftwaffe. Besides, even though they knew that the Whiteheads were overjoyed to be so close to their grandchildren, both Maria and Georg knew that they could only take advantage of their hospitality for so long. It had been time to move on. After crossing the Atlantic, the von Trapps found themselves in New York; not exactly ideal for a family of nine, but with their refugee status, they could do little else but stay in the state until their visas were fully processed. And it was hard.

In hindsight, they couldn't have stayed in the city for longer than a few months, but the cramped surroundings and uncertainty of their future weighed down on them more and more with each passing day. The children did no adapt well, New York differed drastically from Salzburg, and a forced life in a bustling city was of little comfort to any of the children; and the cramped nature of their living arrangements provided little refuge. Every day was a battle. Tensions rose quickly between husband and wife, the Nazis had, at some point, managed to freeze Georg's bank accounts and money began to grow sparse and they began to wonder just how they'd survive; Georg, they knew, could find work easily with a war unfolding in Europe, but what of Maria? Her English – though improved – was not at a high enough proficiency to qualify her for most jobs, and she had no professional skills, she had left her uncle and had gone straight into the arms of the abbey, and she hardly thought that her few months as a governess to her now husband and children would count for much. She could sing and she could sew. That was it.

Moreover, they needed to make sure their children were educated; whilst Maria had compensated for their lack of a teacher over the summer, she could not take on that role full time, the children needed a real school. It was just one more thing that was going to chip away at the finances that they couldn't spare.

"We can't stay here, Georg" Maria sighed one night as the pair made their way into their bedroom.

"I know, Maria, but there's nothing we can do right now"

"There must be something" she said almost desperately, but she knew full well that there wasn't.

"It shouldn't be too much longer until we can leave"

"It's been months, Georg"

"There's nothing I can do, Maria" he almost snapped, "I cannot make them process the visas faster, I can't get my money back and I conjure up a suitable place to live!"

It was the hurt in his eyes that gave him away, that his temper had been bred from disappointment in himself more than anything.

"Georg…?" she prompted.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lost my temper" he mumbled.

"No, I shouldn't have complained" she admitted before a heavy silence fell over them.

She looked over at her husband and saw him standing there, looking at nothing and everything all at once, she could tell that he was hurting deep down, hated himself for leading them into their current predicament. Without another word leaving her lips, she walked over to him – slowly – and when she reached him, she slid her arms around his shoulders and held him close to her. He did not protest, instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face into the side of her neck. She could tell instantly that he was taking the comfort that she was offering – practically bathing in it.

"Sometimes I forget how much you carry on your shoulders" she whispered to him, "listen to me, darling, I know what's on your mind, and I know how you're feeling…please don't be so hard on yourself, Georg"

He let out a strugged breath, clearly at war with himself over what he should say next.

"Can you blame me?" he eventually asked.

"I know how guilty you feel, but you have done so much for us"

He pulled away to look at her but kept his hands on her waist.

"You said it yourself, Maria, we're in a terrible situation right now, and we're all suffering"

"We both made the choice to leave England, and you know just as well as I do that it was the right thing to do. War was spreading far too quickly across Europe; it would have caught up with us eventually and then what?"

He remained silent. Thoughtful.

"You have done so much for us already, it was because of you that we all got out of Austria, that we had somewhere to live in both Switzerland and England, and then you brought us all safely to America. We may not be living in luxury, but just take a moment to reflect on all that you have done for us. You have risked so much for your family and because of you, we are all safe"

Georg let their foreheads kiss as he processed her words, perhaps it would take a long while for him to believe them, but he could not ignore the passion in his wife's voice. She was right, at least they were safe and all together.

"I love you" he almost choked.

"I love you too"

When the time finally came when they were able to relocate, Maria and Georg headed straight for the suburbs, they must have viewed at least a dozen houses, but price aside, none of them were big enough for a family of their size. It seemed hopeless, and they remained in their tiny lodging for far longer than they would have liked. But just as they were beginning to become desperate, what seemed like a miracle occurred. After cycling through his mountain of employment offers, Georg came across one the truly sparked his interest – a teaching position at Norwich university*…in Vermont. His American geography wasn't terrible, but Georg barely knew of Vermont's existence, let alone considered it as somewhere he might move his family to. But he travelled down there one day – alone – and he had fallen in love with the place instantly, and had returned to his family with a smile on his face and nothing but positive words streaming from his lips.

After expressing interest in the position, the university had agreed to help Georg and his family find somewhere to live, and the von Trapps were overwhelmed by the aid and generosity they were being offered. There was not much available, but they eventually stumbled upon a magnificently sized lodge in the small town of Stowe. It was close enough for an easy commute, and the lodge had enough room for all of them inside, plus acres of land and some stables on the outskirts. Plus, the beauty of the area reminded them of home. It was run-down though, and a lot of work needed to be done on both the inside and out, but the price was too good to ignore and without needing much of a discussion, Maria and Georg both agreed that it would be perfect.

So, there they were, with employment and education dealt with, they were once again faced with the task of making a home for themselves. They worked tirelessly day and night, hired what help they could afford and accepted the help of any wiling neighbours and set about turning their run-down lodge into a place that they could call home. It took time and most of their finances, but after months of work, everything was finally in order. After almost two years of moving across countries and continents, their new life in America could finally begin.

Georg smiled lovingly at his wife as she removed the bundle from her breast and began to tap it's back lightly; their daughter was barely four weeks old, and yet he could still scarcely believe that she was real. Already he could tell that she was going to be the spitting image of her mother, but she had inherited a full head of his darkened hair. Every time he looked at her, he felt his heart flood with a beautiful sort of fluttering adoration and such deep love for both her and the wonderful woman that had brought her into the world. It was incredible. He had wondered if such feelings would dry out by his eighth child, apparently, he'd been wrong. Very wrong. He loved her like she was his first; he supposed, that in a way she was, she was his first child with Maria, anyway.

He wondered as well, if perhaps his adoration for the newest addition to their family was heightened because of all that had happened in the past. Even years later, when he thought back to the night Maria miscarried their first child, he would feel his chest constrict horribly and a shiver of dread would snake down his spine; he had never felt such pain, not since Agathe had died. But perhaps what had broken his heart more was just how much the pain had terrorised Maria afterwards – the fears she had felt during their honeymoon – and in his darkest of moments, he had wondered if they'd ever reach this point. Ever since the revelation of her first pregnancy, he had wanted nothing more than to have a child with her, and he suffered greatly when that had been taken away from them – they both had. But fate had always seemed to be on their side, and around six months after fully settling down in Stowe, certain discussions had risen.

It had always been in the back of Maria's mind, even when their futures were uncertain, during the calmer nights, she would allow herself to dream of what they could possibly have. She wondered if they'd be lucky enough to live in a large house, one big enough for all the children, and perhaps one big enough to allow them to welcome more. Her miscarriage had scarred her, to point where she was unsure as to whether or not she'd ever be able to face another pregnancy; but when they had finally settled down in Stowe, and as the months rolled by, the desires began to come back to her.

It started off almost by accident, through passing thoughts that she hardly had any control over; like how she would walk past one of the spare rooms and instantly think that it would be the perfect place for a nursey. Or how she would gaze out at the acres of land they owned and would envision what Georg would like out there with a toddler as he guided them through their first steps. Eventually, such daydreams became more frequent, more cemented in reality, and when she actually sat herself down to privately addressed them, she realised that they were much more than fleeting fancies, they were desires. That was the day she realised that her fears had truly seeped away, and that she was ready for a second attempt at expending their family. She only hoped that Georg felt the same.

They had been avoiding pregnancy since the resolve of their issues in Paris…though, it had mostly been through questionable methods, careful calculations and sheer dumb luck. She humoured that it had been easier in New York when tensions were too high for intimacy to take much of a priority in their lives; but things had settled now, and they were far from being a chaste couple. But there were other issues to think of too…
Still, Maria knew that she would make no real progress by sitting alone and working her thoughts into a frenzy, if she wanted to work this out, then she needed to talk with her husband. And that's exactly what she did.

She waited until she had finished reading to Marta and Gretl to bring the issue to light, but was grateful that Georg was still awake when she wandered into their bedroom that night. She found him beneath the sheets and occupied with a book…and that's when she began to worry. In hindsight, she knew that it had been a pointless and baseless panic, for even if Georg had been opposed to the idea, she would have had nothing to fear; still, these reasonings did nothing to prevent the jitters that came to life in her stomach.

"Georg…" she prompted softly as she climbed beneath the sheets and sat up next to him.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he responded as he marked his place in his book before facing her.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?"

"Of course you can" he assured as he placed his book on the bedside table, "What is it?"

Where should she even start?

"Well, I know we haven't lived here for very long and that we're still adjusting to life in Stowe but…well, things just seem so idyllic now, and I've been thinking recently – more wondering, really – if, oh…" she sighed with frustration when she realised she was rambling. Surely she shouldn't be struggling this much with her own husband?

"Maria?" he prompted sweetly.

She looked into his eyes and steeled herself, calmed herself, she knew she had no reason to be so jittery.

"Georg, I was wondering…how would you feel about, well, having a baby?"

He blinked a couple of times.

"A baby?" he echoed.

Maria nodded.

"What's brought this on?"

"It's been on my mind for some time" she admitted.

"It has?"

"Yes. I know it seems rather sudden – considering the fears that I had in the past – but ever since we settled down here, well, I think it's really soothed me, Georg. Like I said, everything seems so perfect with our life now, and for a while I've found myself thinking about this almost every day. I merely brushed them off as whimsical observations, but I know now that this is something that I really want"

"I see" he replied thoughtfully.

"I don't want to pressure you into anything. I simply wanted to ask, just so I know where we both stand. I know that there's a war in Europe, and that there's no guarantee that America won't join too, but there's just something about this that feels right. Georg, if…if you want this too, then I'd really like to go for it"

Georg smiled at her for a few seconds before stroking her cheek with his hand, prompting her to tilt her head up from where it had fallen.

"There is nothing that I want more" he said simply. Lovingly.

Maria gazed back at him for a few long seconds, attempting over and over again to process his words, but when it finally sank it, a stupidly large smile spread across her cheeks.

"Really?" she asked – suddenly breathless.

"Really" he confirmed, "In truth, this is something that I've been thinking about too, I just never wanted to push you. But I'm so glad you came to me, because I had no idea how I was going to approach the subject with you" he admitted with a laugh.

"I was worried you'd think it was the wrong time"

"In my experience, the right time doesn't exist. You just have to dive straight in"

"What about the war?"

"I agree with what you said. I don't like that the war seems to be looming over us, but who knows how long it'll last, or if it'll even affect us now. It's not like how it was in England. If you're willing to take that risk, then so am I" he assured her.

"So…is this it?" she asked giddily.

"Mrs von Trapp, I believe that you and I are officially trying for a baby" he smirked before pulling his wife in for a passionate kiss.

She discovered that she was pregnant five months later. Admittingly, the first trimester was a difficult time for them both, they had many a day when they were on edge – horrifically paranoid that history would repeat itself – but it was not to be, and sure enough, Maria passed into the second trimester without a hitch. She had never felt such relief, and finally, she allowed the euphoria take over her; and from that point on, Maria simply couldn't articulate just how excited she was. And Georg felt the same. The children had been overjoyed too, particularly the youngest two, who – in their own words – stated that they were sick of being the youngest and wanted to be in charge of someone for a change. Liesl, Fredrich and Louisa had expressed their congratulations to their parents in private – knowing in full detail what they had both gone through with the first miscarriage – and it was enough to bring a tear to Maria's eye.

"I cannot tell you how much this means to me" she told them, "nor can I express just how proud I am of all three of you"

The scene had concluded with the five of them embracing tenderly.

The pregnancy had been a whirlwind of education and new experiences for Maria, and Georg adored watching her experience each new step for the very first time. Everything from the first signs of curvature on her abdomen, to the first kick, and even her playful pout when she discovered that she'd have to cut coffee out of her diet – something that she'd come to love since moving to the States. Still, it was a learning curve for them both of them – one that brought them closer together and with their children – and soon enough, one cool October morning, their child announced that they were ready to come into the world.

It had been a difficult birth, all completely confined to the master bedroom of the lodge, but had luckily taken place whilst the children had been at school. But Georg hated to see his wife suffer, seeing her in such pain and knowing that he could do nothing for her was agonising – and brought up far too many past memories. But Maria was fortunate, she did not suffer through a long labour, and their child had come along before the end of the school day. Instantly, she was named Rosmarie – a tiny little thing with a fantastic pair of lungs – and when the fog of pain and disbelief cleared, Maria found herself desperately pining for her. When she was finally placed in her arms, time seemed to stand still, and in that moment, nothing else existed other than her beautiful baby girl.

Rosmarie had stopped crying almost as soon as she was placed in her mother's arms and Georg watched in awe as her eyes glazed over with the most beautiful of emotions – the kind of love only felt by a mother. Maria had tried to fight back the tears as she'd gazed into the eyes of her daughter, but the sweet combination of exhaustion and awe had just been so overwhelming, and before she knew it, her cheeks had been moistened with tears that she was hopeless to try and stop. Although she was a mother to seven others, there was something so profound about having a child that was a piece of her – of her and Georg – and she never thought that she would ever be lucky enough to be blessed with such a gift.

Between the whirlwind of new emotions, Maria gathered up enough strength to lean down and feather a kiss to her daughter's brow, letting it linger as she savoured the connection to someone she had known for mere minutes. It was indescribable. Within such a short space of time, the tiny bundle – wrapped in soft blankets – had become Maria's entire world. As another tear fell, Maria let the back of her finger travel down Rosmarie's cheek and her breath hitched when her daughter reached up and grasped onto it with a tiny hand, she was the most precious thing that Maria had ever seen, and she would be forever grateful.

"Welcome to the world, Rosmarie" Georg whispered as he sat next to his wife on the bed. He pecked her cheek lightly before adding: "I'm so proud of you, Maria"

And that was all that needed to be said.

"Sometimes I still can't believe she's ours" Maria gushed.

"Me neither" Georg agreed with an adoringly smile.

He reached out then, and tenderly brushed a palm over his daughter's head. She really was incredible.

"It's so difficult to fathom. That I started out as your governess and now…well, look at us" she chuckled.

"Life often works out like that"

"In the strangest of ways?"

"That's where the fun lies"

"I can't really argue with that" she smiled.

"Who would've thought that I'd end up marrying the out-spoken little governess that submerged my children in the lake" he grinned.

"And who would've thought that I'd end up marrying the insufferable sea captain who only liked to brood and bark orders" she retorted lightly.

"Hmmm, touché"

He paused for just a moment.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he said rather seriously.

"I believe you have – once or twice" she grinned.

"I'm sure you don't need to be reminded. But I really do love you more than anything else"

"You don't need to say it" she told him tenderly.

"I know. But I so often feel compelled to. After everything you have done for me, and all the light that you have brought back into my life…"

"And you've brought just as much into my own, darling" she assured with a loving gaze.

"I dread to think of what my life would be like without you" he admitted.

"It's something you needn't fear"

"I guess it proves how much you mean to me. All of you."

"And you mean the world to us"

He eventually sobered after noticing that their daughter had fallen into a gentle slumber in Maria's arms.

"Shall I put her down for you?"

"Please"

The bundle was transferred gently from one parent to the other, but before Georg put her down in her bassinet, he took a moment to simply look at her, to fully take in just how amazed he was by her…and just how much he loved her. He still couldn't believe that they had come this far, that they had reached this point in their lives and that they had done it together. It had all started out so simply, as two people who loved each other without fully realising, who had wanted each other to the point where they couldn't control it; and they had been thrown in a minefield of life's twists and turns. There had been the secrecy, the separation, the pregnancy and tragic miscarriage; the fears they shared and resolved on their honeymoon, and how they fled their homeland, settled in three separate countries before finally creating a life that they could be proud of. And now, they had their little girl too.

Together they had overcome so much, faced some of life's greatest challenges and had emerged from the flames stronger than ever. Perhaps, in some way, their struggles had been one of their greatest blessings? It was something that Georg pondered often, but he was blessed nonetheless, and that was something he was reminded of every day. And this day was no different. So, as he climbed into bed next to his wife, pulled her into his embrace and kissed her lovingly, he was once again reminded of all that he had to be thankful for. How, now, his life seemed to be perfect – almost like a dream.

No, not quite.

It was all far better than a dream.

Inspiration for Whitehead manor: Hatfield house - Heartfordshire, England

1* - RP accent - 'Received pronunciation', essentially a very standard and slightly 'posh' sounding English accent. A bit like Downton Abbey, but that would probably be 'Upper RP'...it's all rather confusing!

2* - Norwich University - a military university in Vermont

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, here we are, it's all over! I have been working on this story for over a year and it's by far one of the best projects I've done; not necessarily in terms of quality (again, that's for you to decided), but in because of how much positivity it seems to have created for those reading. Never before have I created something that people seemed to really enjoy, and yet, from my end, these really felt like an epic tale! This was something that you guys really seemed to love and I am so grateful for how lovely and patience you have been throughout this journey. I used to talk about my work on Instagram, and all everyone wanted to know about was Better than a Dream, and seeing people get genuinely excited over what I was writing was honestly so endearing.

It's strange to think that when I first started this story, it was going to be a short, measly little thing to simply fill time between more time-consuming projects, and yet this turned out to be the biggest thing I've ever done. It really is strange how life works out. But what I can say is that I'm so glad I decided to write this. Moreover, I am so glad that you all enjoyed it as much as you did - it truly means the world to me.

So, what next? Well, my number one priority is university - I only have three months left in Japan, so I'm really going to focus on my studies. But when I get the chance, I'm going to focus on finishing any stories that have yet to be completed (Riding into the sunset, A thing of beauty is a joy forever and A new chapter). And once I'm done with those - who knows! I do have a few ideas on what I want to do for my next bigger story, it's definitely going to be for The Sound of Music, but I'm not quite sure which idea I'll pursue or in what kind of way...I guess we'll all just have to wait and see. I'm also considering jumping back into some fandoms that I haven't touched for a while - like Tomb Raider - so, if that interests you, let me know!

Anyway, as always, I have rambled on for far too long. So, let me finish up by saying one more huge thank you to each and every one of you! Your support means everything to me and I really hope you have enjoyed this story!

Hopefully I'll see you soon!

~ G

xxx