Dear Rolfe. STOP.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Sound of Music.

Author's Note: My first SOM fic, revolving around my second favorite couple, after the Captain and Maria. Read and review at will!

Dear Rolfe. STOP.

The words of Liesl's pretend telegram came back to her. She dared not say anything to worsen the situation. But her mind was screaming for him to just stop, now. Stop before he did something he would regret…that is, if any remorse or humanity remained in him now. She pleaded with her eyes for the boy she had once loved to lower the pistol he had leveled at her father's heart.

Liesl's fear froze her completely. She could not move. If she was still even breathing, she could not feel it. The only thing still functioning was her mind, which spun wildly. How could this be happening? How could things have changed so fast?

Her memories played over in her head. She could still see herself not so long ago, sixteen going on seventeen, stifled by her father's military influence over the way the household ran, plagued by the struggle within her: she was no longer a child, but not a woman yet, either. She had no one to confide in about it. Her mother was long dead. Frau Schmidt, the housekeeper, did not pry into the children's business; if she had any opinions, she kept them to herself. Liesl's four younger sisters were not old enough yet to understand; Louisa, Brigitta, Marta and Gretl did not have to worry about being grown-ups for years yet. Her two brothers, Friedrich and Kurt, were too busy with their own growing pains, wanting to become men in their father's eyes. The newest addition to the household, Fräulein Maria, wanted to be "good friends" with her, but when could she ever truly trust a governess?

If Captain Georg Ritter von Trapp had anything to say about it, Liesl would never grow up. She would always be under his scrutinizing thumb.

Besides playing tricks on the governess for amusement and to get Father's attention, Rolfe Gruber was the one bright spot in her miserable existence. He was the handsome, cheerful postboy who often delivered the family's telegrams. She felt that exciting, undeniable spark whenever she saw him. It was obvious he felt the same way. If he managed to snatch a word or two with her, he would ask if she could come out to meet him. But it had to be a subtle getaway. When a telegram came, she often asked Franz, the butler, who had delivered it. If it was Rolfe, she would contrive some way to sneak out and see him.

There was no way the Captain would allow young men to court his oldest daughter until she came out in society. Sometimes she wondered if he would permit it even after she made her debut. Rolfe knew how difficult—to say the least—the Captain was to get along with. It was dangerous to so risk her father's wrath; there was always a chance she and Rolfe might get caught, but that was what made it so exciting at the same time—that and the fact that for once she was doing as she pleased.

Liesl remembered that last night as clear as anything. Their first dinner with Fräulein Maria had progressed rather awkwardly—she was not fazed by the strategically placed pine cone, and the younger girls found themselves all teary-eyed at the Fräulein's little speech about feeling so welcome here. Liesl counted herself saved when Franz brought in a telegram for Father from Baroness Schrader. As she had hoped, it was "young Master Rolfe" who had delivered it. She immediately asked to be excused and slipped outside to the garden.

She called his name and his striking form emerged from behind a tree. With ecstasy she flung her arms around his neck. But he only offered the briefest embrace in return before pulling away. She didn't understand why they couldn't be affectionate when no one was watching. If only there were a way they could be especially private about their courtship.

Liesl had the bright idea that he should send her a telegram.

Rolfe chuckled. "But I'm already here!"

"Oh, please, Rolfe," Liesl implored with her best disappointed-little-girl look. "Send me a telegram."

One look at the pretty, dark-haired girl and her pouting face convinced him. "Alright," he acquiesced, taking up the game. She sat down on the stone garden bench to listen.

He paced as he improvised the words to narrate the pretend telegram: "'Dear Liesl, I would like to tell you how I feel about you. STOP. Unfortunately this wire is already too expensive. STOP. Sincerely, Rolfe.'"

Liesl was put out at the distant word he used. "'Sincerely?'"

Rolfe tried again. "'Cordially?'"

"'Cordially?'" she repeated after him again, still indignant.

Rolfe joined her on the bench and tried once more. "'Affectionately?'"

She hugged him at last. "Mmm, much better."

"Do I get a reply?"

"Oh, of course!" She held him at arms' length as she narrated her own telegram: "Dear Rolfe. STOP." She hugged him again and finished, "Don't stop! Your Liesl."

Again, to Liesl's chagrin, their talk turned solemn for a time. Who knew how long they could keep up this relationship when Austria was not the same as it used to be. Some people thought they should be united with their ethnic kin in Germany, by force if necessary. Those people might not include Liesl's father. He prided himself on being Austrian and being the head of the house. Who knew what he would do or say if he found out the teenagers were sneaking around behind his back. But Liesl brushed it all aside, and told Rolfe not to worry about Father.

"Oh, I'm not worried about him," Rolfe assured her. "But I do worry about his daughter."

Liesl's heart leaped. To hear from his very lips that he thought about her, cared about her, worried about her! "Me? Why?"

"Well, you're so…" He trailed off as if unsure of how to say it.

"Yes?" she prompted him.

He finished with a laugh, "Well, you're such a baby!"

Liesl was indignant. "I'm sixteen," she asserted haughtily. "What's such a baby about that?"

He was quick to begin the list. "You wait, little girl, on an empty stage for fate to turn the light on. Your life, little girl, is an empty page that men will want to write on."

Right now she wanted no one but him to be the one holding the pen. She leaned toward him. "To write on?"

But he backed away, determined to make his point. "You are sixteen going on seventeen—baby, it's time to think. Better beware, be canny and careful; baby, you're on the brink. You are sixteen, going on seventeen—fellows will fall in line: eager young lads and rogues and cads will offer you food and wine."

Rolfe stood up and paced. Liesl, despite being lectured, was riveted to every word as he continued, "Totally unprepared are you to face a world of men. Timid and shy and scared are you of things beyond your ken. You need someone older and wiser, telling you what to do."

He gestured to himself as if he were the perfect candidate for the job. "I am seventeen going on eighteen. I'll take care of you."

Liesl was only too eager for him to do so, and she flung herself at him again. When he backed away again, she decided this time to punish him for it. She started to stalk away with an offended flounce. He put out a hand to her in a wordless apology. The girl gave it an abrupt shake and went on her way, but didn't get far when he went after her again. The indignation vanished from her face, replaced by a playful smile as he chased her around the bench.

No sooner had they sat back down than the sky opened up. Thunder and lightning took them by surprise. Thankfully the gazebo was right there, so they ducked inside for shelter. Once they were safely out of the elements, Liesl decided to tell him what she thought.

"I am sixteen going on seventeen…I know that I'm naïve. Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet and willingly I believe. I am sixteen going on seventeen, innocent as a rose. Bachelor dandies, drinkers of brandies…what do I know of those? Totally unprepared am I to face a world of men." Here she played the coquette and flirted a little as she lamented, "Timid and shy and scared am I of things beyond my ken."

She stepped up onto the seat as she agreed with Rolfe's last point. "I need someone older and wiser telling me what to do." She smoothed back a lock of his straw-blond hair and concluded, "You are seventeen going on eighteen. I'll depend on you."

Though Rolfe still seemed uncomfortable with her flirting, he danced her around the small space until they were both out of breath. Leaning on opposite sides of the gazebo, locking her eyes on his dazzling blue ones across the way, with the rain streaming down the glass windows behind them, Liesl realized just how hard she had fallen for him—how frightening and exhilarating it was to feel this way about someone. She had never experienced these things before. She felt dizzy, and no matter where she stopped spinning, there he was before her.

Before she could say anything, he pulled her into his arms and planted a quick, sound kiss on her lips. She met his gaze for only a brief moment before he ran out into the rain.

When her feet loosened themselves from the floor, she walked to the door to watch him disappear into the distance. If she was happy before, now she was ecstatic. He had just given her the proof of his love for her. All she could do now was let out a squeal of joy.

x-x-x

Little did she know that that was the last time she would see that kind and caring boy. When she saw him again after many eventful months with no communication, he wasn't the same Rolfe she had known. He was stoic and terse with her when he met her at the Salzburg amphitheater, telling her she would give this telegram to her father right away. She explained that he was on his honeymoon with Fräulein Maria…or rather, with her new Mother, the woman she and the household had come to adore, who had brought light and music back to their lives and smiles to their faces, even to Father's.

"Oh, I know that. We make it our business to know everything," was his reply.

"Who's we?" Liesl was confused. Who was he talking about, as if he were proud of being a part of something that had changed him so? It seemed the Anschluss had turned everything upside down, even their relationship. She decided she didn't like the Germans and their coarse mannerisms, or their influence on the decent Austrians they had taken over ruling. "And besides, don't you want to come and deliver it yourself?" She hoped perhaps they could meet again as they had before. Maybe she could get to the bottom of this, why he was so different.

"I have no time for that. I have important business to attend to. You will give this to your father when he returns." With that, he turned on his heel and left. She called to him, but he never looked back.

x-x-x

It seemed Rolfe Gruber had turned his back completely on his old life as a nice Austrian boy. He had walked away from everything, even her. She and her family, attempting to flee the Nazis and the forced conscription of her father in their new military, now stood frozen like frightened deer in the cemetery of Mother's old convent. One false move and the souls resting here might have some company. One false move and Rolfe would almost certainly pull the trigger. He could kill her father. He could kill her stepmother, her sisters, her brothers.

He could kill her.

"Rolfe, please!" she had cried out to him when he caught them trying to slip out. He had flinched just the tiniest bit, as if her voice had struck a nerve. He didn't really want to do this; she knew he didn't. He was just following orders.

Again, the words of her telegram echoed in her head: Dear Rolfe. STOP. Liesl prayed hard for his heart to soften.

"Maria. Children."

Father's voice interrupted her thoughts. Liesl saw the subtle gesture he made for her and Mother and her siblings to run and take cover. She did not want to leave him alone with Rolfe. The boy she had loved had betrayed her so deeply that she could not trust him now. But she had no choice. Mother led the children toward the abbess's car waiting at the base of the stairs. With one last desperate plea in her eyes cast in Rolfe's direction, she followed them.

Maybe Father can reason with him, Liesl thought as the eight of them waited for what seemed like forever in the car. Maybe Rolfe will see reason and come away with us, and everything will be alright.

Her hopes were dashed the moment she heard Rolfe's shout. "Lieutenant! Lieutenant, they're here! They're here, Lieutenant!" She heard his frantic whistle and running footsteps. Father dashed down the stairs and jumped into the car. The engine roared to life and they sped away into the night.

Liesl chanced a look back. She saw the soldiers getting in their cars to take up the chase. But they didn't go anywhere. Were their cars not working? Whatever the reason, Liesl did not care, as long as she and her family could escape. The distance between them and their pursuers grew wider by the second until Salzburg was but a cluster of dotted lights nestled in the hills.

x-x-x

It was hard going, actually climbing the mountains that were so beautiful to look at from a distance. But this was the path they had chosen, the only path that was open to them if they were to stay true to what they believed. Switzerland, the perpetual middle ground for Europe, would give them sanctuary from the beastly Germans who now counted her former love among their ranks.

There was no middle ground for Liesl von Trapp and Rolfe Gruber. They were on opposite sides of an overwhelming mountain. They had different dreams. Maybe, when—if—the German nightmare lost its hold on Austria, they would meet again and start over. Or maybe not. Deep in Liesl's heart, she feared the latter, that their shared dream and youthful passion were gone forever.

Just as she had on the night she last saw him, Liesl could not help but look back. Austria lay stretched out behind her, the mountains blocking her view of the vibrant colors of her home. For a moment she thought of that story from the Bible about Sodom and Gomorrah, the sinful cities that God would not save from destruction, and of Lot's wife looking back on her loss and changing into a pillar of salt. Maybe Liesl would change into a salt statue herself, and she would remain in Austria forever, cold and unmovable, feeling no sadness or pain anymore of what she had lost.

A warm hand slipped into hers, and a melodious voice broke through the reverie. "Liesl," it called with a faint echo, as if from far away across the Alps.

Liesl turned to see Mother looking at her with a sad smile, a smile that seemed to say, I know, darling, it's hard to leave behind what you love. The former convent postulant knew what she was talking about. She had given up her worldly life and relationships to serve the God she loved. She had loved Liesl's father and left when that love appeared impossible. But in the end she knew where her true heart lay, and the proof was here before Liesl's eyes.

Marta ran up and took Liesl's other hand. "Come on, Liesl, we can make it. I'll help you."

Liesl gave her little sister a smile. Of course Marta would help her, and Liesl knew she would help Marta in return. That was what sisters did. Her family needed her now. She could not wallow in regret, always looking back over her shoulder.

Putting one foot in front of the other, Liesl allowed her sister and her stepmother to lead her along. She never took her eyes from the path before them. Switzerland was not far now. The last thought she entertained of Rolfe Gruber as they neared the border was a new telegram, one she imagined sending to him from freedom.

Dear Rolfe. STOP. There is nothing left to say. STOP. Sincerely, Liesl.