Just a story I've developed over a few weeks, mostly fluff, a tiny smidge of angst (because who doesn't love a fluffy/angst fic). This fic is kinda inspired by the Sound of Music themes dance a couple did on Strictly for movie week (I know, a bit sad but oh well, feelings) Go check it out cause it is absolutely adorable and the song is climb ev'ry mountain: /K0Tiuftytik?list=PLjTtZfwwAHxRTbnsrrH5Ob9mkmH-zx-ky Hope you enjoy. :)

The Dancing Side Of You

'Its going to be fine, Maria.'

Maria looked out at the scenery before her, her hands mildly fidgeting with one another. From the height of the panoramic window, she could glimpse the Eiffel Tower just peaking out from behind the various buildings that partially blocked the view. To her, it still felt like some sort of surreal dream, the dazzling lights from the streets twinkling like stars, the cars below racing down the roads. She felt the warm hands of her husband grip her softly from behind, his head balancing on her shoulder and brushing her hair aside. She appreciated his comfort, though it didn't quite settle her. His words sunk in, and slowly she felt a little sense come back to her. It was only a dance, and she'd danced before. But the thought of dancing with her newly wed husband amongst so many important faces somehow intimidated her. As if he knew what she was thinking, he added, 'We've danced together before.'

A smile infected his words and she knew he was thinking about the night of the ball, which seemed like an age ago now, and how they had danced the Laendler. Maria let her rigid frame sink into him a little as she reminisced on that night. If she had known then that in a few months she'd be standing there on her honeymoon, cradled by the Captain, she wouldn't have dared believe it.

'That was outside, away from the crowd.' She persisted.

'It was in front of the children,' he countered, kissing her neck gingerly, 'and you danced so beautifully.'

Maria turned her body away from the view of Paris to stare into those brooding, yet gentle eyes, and she could see the very moment they had finished the Laendler branded over his pupils and being replayed in his mind.

'I'll stay with you.' He promised, and Maria leant into him tenderly. Why she was acting like this, all she could help to describe was nerves, and perhaps the small voice in the back of her mind reminding her she had been a lowly governess, and somewhat unworthy of the Captain's love. It wasn't how she personally viewed their relationship, but she thought it likely it would be what other people would think. Shaking her head a little at her negativism, and dispelling those cruel thoughts, Maria lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled sweetly.

'I'm sorry, darling, it's just an unusual circumstance for me. I'm still not used to this.'

'Of course.' He replied understandingly. Abruptly, he stepped back, and spun her around unexpectedly.

'See, you shouldn't worry,' he smirked, illustrating his point by gesturing to her dress, 'you look wonderful, you dance wonderful, and you are wonderful.'

It was that third clause that provoked her to lean upwards and kiss his lips. Such affections from him still felt strange and foreign to her, especially after spending most of her life at the Abbey and most of their relationship as his inferior.

Maria straightened his tie and fixed him an enchanting smile.

'I think it's time we leave.' He said, his eyes transfixed on hers and his body unresponsive despite his words. Finally, he held out his hand and laced his fingers with hers, leading her out the door.

Maria had to gasp as she stepped inside the French mansion, the decoration and space creating the impression more so of a palace. Maria had thought the villa was a mansion when she first stepped inside it, but this was almost the size of a castle. Georg tightened her linked arm to his, formally greeting the presumed owner of the great house. Maria knew her husband had wealthy friends from all over Europe, but to her it seemed like he had befriended God himself. She couldn't avert her eyes from the ornate ceiling, golden frames lining white marble in an uplifting baroque style. She was so focused on admiring the mansion that she hadn't realised her eyes were swivelling madly and her mouth was agape. Sharply, she felt a small pull from Georg and the call of her name alerting her back to reality. Maria supposed she hadn't heard anything of their introduction. She looked at him in confusion, then to the man looming over her expectantly.

'Oh, forgive me, I was busy admiring your lovely house.' She explained, hoping she hadn't embarrassed herself and Georg in front of the prestigious host.

'This is my wife, Maria von Trapp.' Georg announced lightly. Maria still couldn't quite shake off the proud feeling of being called his wife, or a von Trapp.

'Ah, you're the nun, aren't you?' The man replied, somewhat surprising her with his informality.

'Well, yes, I used to be.' She answered uncertainly. Maria hadn't even caught his name, having been so preoccupied with the decor, but she didn't think she wanted to know it after all. After a small, slightly awkward pause, Georg begrudgingly shook the host's hand and steered them away from his presence. Maria could just about sense the gritting of his teeth from the set of his jaw. He didn't say anything for a while, but loosened the collar of his shirt with his finger and grabbed a glass from a passing tray. Maria didn't quite know how to diffuse the silence.

'Hopefully, this will be painless.' He said, finishing his drink in one last swig.

'Why did we have to come if you don't want to be here?' She asked softly. Sometimes Maria didn't believe how sensitive her husband truly could be.

'It would have been rude otherwise,' he explained, setting down the glass, and turning to her with a renewed smile, 'and I wouldn't have gotten to dance with you officially as my wife.'

Maria guessed that no matter how much she tried, she could never escape the elaborate functions, balls or parties her husband would inevitably be invited to.

Standing before her, he extended his hand and Maria slowly took it, letting him guide her toward the middle of the floor. Georg walked backward into a vacant space, still holding her hand and gently pulling her into an embrace. As the music played on, Maria let herself fall into step and kept her eyes on him, trying not to feel too self conscious of other couples dancing around her. The dance itself was as intimate as the Leandler had been, arches and turns and hands guiding waists all over the place. Maria could hardly focus on anything but her husband's mesmeric gaze as they stepped together in time and travelled along the dance floor. When Georg had spun her around on the spot, his hand guiding her waist as she turned, the whole room seemed to fall apart. He embraced her tightly, and suddenly she was being lifted into the air. Even though it was only short she hadn't seen it coming, and it had felt as though she were the only woman in the room with the way he set her back down again and spun her round him. Everything seemed to become a blur, and the steps and the turns seemed to become so natural that she lost all sense of where they were, under the hazy lights glowing brightly and the celestial music driving her to each step. Then suddenly there was clapping, and she realised the music and the dancing had stopped. Georg smiled at her reverently, before stepping closer and whispering in her ear in the most intimate way, 'you look wonderful tonight.' Drawing away and catching his eyes under the golden lights made her want to kiss him, passionately, softly, endearingly, but she didn't have the courage to amongst so many people. Instead, she let him take her arm and they moved toward a throng of guests crowding round tables laden with drinks, and conversing with one another. She felt the slightest blush in her cheeks, whether from the dancing, Georg's whisper in her ear, the want to kiss him so badly, or even all three. Georg had drunk another glass while she stared at others around her, so much different; wealthy, and powerful with fine clothes and fine taste and fine political convictions. She couldn't even think of where to begin with all of it. Looking up at her husband as he talked to a friend she reminded herself he was all those things she felt so out of depth with, and that she herself now supposedly was someone of high estate; but with Georg, he never flaunted his wealth in a boastful manner, nor did he treat her as any lower than himself. It was all so overwhelming. Finally, her eyes lighting up at the sight of a familiar face, she left her husband briefly in the hopes of securing suitable company.

'So, life is good for you at present?' All the answer needed was a simple glance at Maria to confirm his acquaintance's question. He watched her talking spiritedly to a woman a few yards away, and replied a simple 'yes' without interrupting the entrancement cast over his eyes.

'How long have you stayed in Paris?' His friend cut in, breaking him away from his absorption.

'Three weeks now. We are planning to stay a month.'

'Are your children happy with her?'

'Happy with who, Maria?' Georg asked, starting to become unappreciative of his questions.

'Yes.'

'Of course they are.' He said candidly.

'And your wife...she was, what, your governess?'

The personal and probing questions started to make Captain von Trapp feel uncomfortable, which was a rare emotion. It had been arising quite often, as of late, and particularly in conversations with others about his wife.

'Yes, she was.' He admitted, taking another long sip from his nearly empty glass. He hoped there was plenty more on hand if this conversation were to go too far.

'Ah, but what about that lovely Baroness, Elsa Shraeder? I've known her quite awhile now. I heard that you had planned to marry her.'

'Yes, I did.' He forced out in gritted teeth, feeling the lines in his forehead crease further and his hard gaze intensify.

'But your governess was there at the time, was she not?'

The fact that he had just reverted to calling Maria his governess instead of his wife left him flushed with an anger that he tried to repress. The interrogative questions in that fancy French accent was starting to annoy him further.

'I know what you're trying to imply, and I don't like it.' He said with sincerity, bringing the glass to his lips and still focusing on Maria speaking with her friend. He hoped for her sake she was having a better conversation than he was.

'Oh, come now, Georg, I'm not trying to be suggestive! I am most fascinated with your story, that is all.'

'My story is not worth listening to,' Georg deadpanned, 'and I would very much appreciate if we could put the topic to rest.'

He could feel the swivel of his companion's eyes on him, feel the pressure bear down on his shoulders with every word he spoke and every drop he continued to drink. However, Georg had learned to master the art of composure from a very young age, and didn't let these vulnerabilities show.

'I've only heard what some people say, Georg, that you of all people, marrying a lowly nun who is supposed to be devoted to God-'

The Captain was sure he nearly smashed his glass on the table when he forcefully set it down. Striding away without a word, he felt anger now flare up inside his chest. It was as much an insult to her as it was to him, and Georg felt an ache in his heart, at the idea of Maria being merely a 'lowly nun.' He had never thought her lowly, and it hurt him physically because she had always been so much more, such a boundless presence in his life, and he couldn't think about this woman he loved so deeply ever being categorised in that way. He walked straight over to her and though he appeared calm for her friend, he caught Maria's hand privately in an attempt to compose himself. She looked up at his face, already discerning something was wrong. Squeezing their hidden hands just a little tighter together, he excused the both of them from the woman's company. Linking his arm with hers, they made their way outside, where the air was pleasant and warm, and the trees and plants swayed lightly in the small wind. The gardens were exquisite and extensive, fine, full-blown flowers erupted from neatly trimmed bushes, that lined the winding path through a maze of delight not so dissimilar from the Garden of Eden itself. Georg saw and edelweiss flower and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. They walked on together for a few moments until Maria finally cut into the romantic silence.

'What's the matter, Georg?'

He took a few seconds before he constructed an answer.

'I have...conservative friends.'

Maria came to a stop, looking up at him like he feared she would, silently encouraging him to elaborate. Looking into her eyes, it was hard enough just to draw breath.

'It...doesn't matter now.' He assured her, dropping the flower to the floor and continuing walking.

'Darling, there is no point in keeping it to yourself, I can tell something has made you angry.' She reasoned, now slipping her fingers through his, 'it's about me, isn't it?'

Georg jolted at her words. He didn't expect her to instinctively know like that.

'Some people,' he sighed, baffled at the concept of saying it to his own wife, 'just don't take kindly to our marriage. That's it. But them people, them people don't care for anything anyway. Only themselves.' He took a rather large gulp of champagne, then focused back on Maria. She didn't seem unperturbed, or indeed shocked, but perhaps a slight disappointment or sadness had crept it's way into her face. He didn't want her to feel like this the whole night, and he himself could hardly bear to see it, so he quickly checked around him, and smirked triumphantly at Maria.

'Come with me.' He said, offering his hand for her to take. Leading her through the labyrinthine maze of plants and hedges, he found a small gap in the bushes, and walked further away from the lights and the people and the mansion itself.

'Where are you going?' Maria asked, trying to keep up with his determined strides.

At last he turned round to face her. 'Somewhere more private.'

His wife looked behind her and saw only little of the great house, and no people whatsoever. They had walked far and deep enough through the garden so that the bushes blocked the view and it had opened up to a row of trees which stood behind them.

'I know you didn't want to come in the first place, and I'm not exactly enjoying it here either. So I thought that we could be away from all of that for a while.'

A smile lit up her features, reaching her twinkling eyes and Georg kissed her with the intentions of making her forget everything anyone ever said against her.

Maria felt the blush in her cheeks and heat beneath her skin as Georg kissed her, so fervently and hungrily she thought she might fall over backward. Yet his strong arms held her body flush against him and she had no intentions of letting go either. This was what she had desired to do on the dance floor, and now they were away from public eye it had been an irresistible opportunity. They stumbled backward a few paces, caught up in their passionate embrace enough to lose sight of the external world around them. Maria felt the roughness of bark on her back and realised she was up against a tree, but nothing mattered when Georg was carrying on with his ministrations so ardently. Her eyes opened, and she took note of how truly handsome her husband looked, his bowtie pinned beneath the pristine collar of his shirt and the jacket fitting his form perfectly. His mouth landed back on hers, and with a braveness she didn't know she possessed she gently tugged off his jacket and dropped it to the floor, smiling against his lips shamelessly. Maria couldn't have known how much time had passed since they had left the party but at that moment it had been a whole age. She could hardly believe she was there at that moment, kissing her respectable sea captain at a ball in France. Just the sentence in her head made no sense, yet when Georg's body was pinning hers and his hands travelled the length of her body, she couldn't deny that it was real. Her hands were caught in his hair, unapologetically seeming to dishevel it from the neat and precise form it had been.

'Georg!'

They both paused. Looking into each other's eyes, they realised someone was searching for them, as they probably should have known they would. Georg swivelled his head round to search for the source of the voice, and thankfully the figure was in the gardens and not on the other side of the overgrown hedges. Raising his eyebrow, and looking quite displeased at being interrupted, Georg let go of her and stepped away. Maria had to close her eyes first to compose herself, and then leaned away from the tree. Observing her husband, she could see she really had messed up his hair, which was now tousled and falling into his eyes. He leant down to pick up his jacket, and Maria found it hard not to blush. Putting it back on, he seemed to locate the noise and took her hand.

'We'll enter at the opposite side of the garden.' He said, leading her away and striding down the length of the hedge wall. As they walked, they heard more shouts calling for his name, and when they moved to the other side of the garden, Georg picked up the pace and appeared with Maria just before the caller had got there. Smoothing down his hair as best he could, he exchanged a small apology for his absence and made the excuse that they had walked too far out of reach and had found it difficult to make it back again. Maria found that apart from their hair, everything else was neat and the Frenchman seemed to buy their story.

'Come, I was looking for you, I wondered if you had ever met-'

Maria let go of her husbands arm, knowing that he would be immersed now in conversation and greeting for a long time. She watched them enter the ball, immediately handling glasses and walking over to another group of finely dressed men. Maria could hardly believe what they had just been doing, and at someone else's house too! She put a hand to her head and spun round, observing the flowers around her. If she squinted, she could just about make out the small gap they had followed through to get to the other side. Needing a moment of catching her breath and breathing in the night air, she sat down on a bench and wondered what her husband was talking about, or indeed who he was talking with. She watched him interestedly, noting how he talked, and his small laugh that she knew was partly fake. Maria had had the privilege of seeing him truly laugh and it was far different, it transformed his whole face and lit up his eyes and pulled his lips into a teeth-bearing smile. She herself grinned at that image in her mind.

'Bonsoir.' A voice called, and a woman appeared at her side, smiling. Maria didn't have any idea who she was, but politely answered back.

'Good evening.'

'Ah, you are not French.'

'No.' She smiled, making room for her on the bench, 'If I may ask, who are you?'

'I am the hostess.' She replied.

'Oh, yes of course, I'm sorry. I don't think I saw you when we came in.'

'No, I don't think I saw you either. I think I would have remembered you.' She replied, looking Maria up and down in an uncomfortable way.

'Who are you with?' The hostess demanded.

'Who am I with? Georg von Trapp.'

'Ah, Georg,' she said in recognition, 'I know him well, he used to come here all the time with his wife. Are you one of the children?'

Maria blushed violently. 'I am his wife.'

'What? I don't understand.'

'Georg's last wife died several years ago. I married him a few weeks ago, we're here in Paris for our honeymoon.'

'Several years? No, no, this doesn't make sense,' the skittish Parisian said, 'he was here only five months ago, with another woman. I assumed it was his wife because I heard about all the children he had-'

Maria knew then who it was who had been the last time, with a little disappointing drop of her stomach.

'Baroness Shraeder.' She whispered, quickly looking up and spotting through the open doors Georg conversing good-naturedly with his peers.

'Oh, is that who it was? I knew she was important but I didn't know exactly who she was. Forgive me, I didn't know he had married another woman, and one much younger than him.'

Maria didn't care to accept her apology, nor particularly look at her. She didn't know why she felt so betrayed, at that point in time of five months ago they hadn't even known each other. But still, thinking about Elsa and Georg laughing with the rest of their reputable, high-society friends wasn't what she had wanted to think about on her honeymoon. Maria held no grudges to the Baroness, or her relationship with him but she couldn't help wondering if Georg knew the gap in the hedge was there because he'd been there before. It made her feel slightly nauseous and sick, thinking about what they had just done and if her honeymoon was supposed to have been their honeymoon. To make matters worse, the Frenchwoman didn't relent in her numerous questions. Maria couldn't help thinking whether she would ever be able to stand with her husband as Elsa Shraeder had done, and talk to some of those wealthy, respectable aristocrats.

'How did you meet?' She asked, and Maria was thankful she didn't know that Georg and the Baroness had previously been engaged.

'I was his governess.'

The woman's pupils seemed to dilate and her mouth went widely agape. Maria felt more than uncomfortable now in her presence.

'Captain von Trapp married his governess?!' She exclaimed in alarm.

Maria couldn't bear to hear her scream anymore about the horrors of a mismatched couple, and swiftly left her still agape with surprise. She wondered how the woman would have reacted if she'd found out she used to be a postulant too. Putting her hand to her head in utter confusion and shock, she marched into the centre of the ballroom and past Georg's gathering in search for a ladies room; she desperately needed to compose herself.

'Maria?' A hand shot out at her as she passed, and the eyes of her husband looked questioningly down at her.

'Where are you going?' He asked.

'I just need to find a ladies room-'

'What's wrong?' He asked, his eyebrows knitted together in an expression of concern. Looking into his face, it was hard not to melt under his gaze but Maria remained firm. She didn't know how he had interpreted something was wrong, but her face must have been more cheerless than she had thought. She tried to move past him, but he followed her through a pair of side doors where fewer people were congregating. Spotting a woman coming out of a washroom, Maria headed over to it in the hopes of being alone. Yet, her husband still persisted.

'Maria, what is it?' He asked again, spinning her around to face him.

'I wish we hadn't come.' She said plainly, and Georg set down his half-finished glass.

'Why, has someone said something? Maria, I'll talk to them, they can't get away with speaking to my wife like that-'

'No,' she interjected, closing her eyes and praying God give her strength, 'I just had to explain some things about you to the hostess.'

He sighed, 'like what, Maria? That I've got a new jacket on?'

The reference to his jacket brought up the blissful scene they had shared earlier, and Maria tried so very hard not to think of the Baroness.

'The hostess thought you had married Elsa,' She said, almost breathlessly, 'she thought I was one of your children, and when I explained who I was she couldn't believe the thought of a rich, decorated sea captain marrying his lowly governess.'

Gazing into his eyes, Georg looked physically wounded, although she couldn't understand why.

He felt most appalled to hear about his wife's ordeal, and when she had referred to herself as lowly it had struck a hole in his heart. Hearing that word uttered to him earlier on had irked him irrefutably, but hearing it repeated by his own wife shatteringly pained him. He couldn't begin to explain just how much more she meant to him.

He took her hands in his, staring into her eyes emphatically. 'You are many things, Maria,' he told her, thinking about the times she would sing, dance, play with the children, argue with him, kiss him, sometimes annoy him, sometimes help him, 'not one of them is lowly.'

Her features seemed to soften a little, and his lips twisted into a small smile.

'No matter how many people you talk to, right now they will have one-sided, irrational first impressions of you, Maria, and that's because they don't know you like I do. They don't know who you are as a person, what you're capable of, or indeed why I have chosen to make you my wife. All they can do now is look at the painstakingly obvious, and grumble on about your previous positions as a nun and a governess. It is not you who they object to, but the thought of you. But when they get to know you properly, Maria, believe me, they will fall in love with you just as the children and I did. For now, you just have to bear it, and not let it mentally wound you. You could charm anyone in the world, Maria. I thought it was impossible myself when you first stayed at the villa, but you soon proved me wrong.'

Georg just hoped that the speech of confidence had lightened her mood, and made her realise just how valuable she really was. Maria didn't speak for a few seconds, although it seemed like she wanted to, and suddenly she had grasped his cheeks and kissed him so shockingly he had nearly stumbled. When she let him go, his eyes must have been wide with surprise, because Maria repressed the urge to laugh. Although he knew they were in a public space and he could see there were some people staring at them, he didn't care at all.

'I agree, we shouldn't have come tonight. While the music and dancing is splendid and the alcohol is ever-flowing, the company here is awfully frightful. Would you like to go back early?' He held out his hand for her to take, and with a smile she took it.

'Gladly.'

He lead her through to the main entrance, and making sure no one was watching, opened the door and slipped away into the Parisian night.

He laughed, spinning Maria around on the spot. Ever since they had sneakily left the ball (which Georg knew wouldn't be received well) they had had quite the evening. Instead of coming straight back they had taken a moonlit stroll in a park and come across a few street performers who had entertained them most proficiently. Georg had to admit that he had enjoyed it, just the two of them, out there together on such a fine night. It felt right to be there with Maria, and for the first time he knew properly that this was the way he was going to spend his life.

'We are having a little party of our own.' He smiled, twirling her again.

'You keep on surprising me.' Maria spoke up, catching his eyes as she turned.

'What do you mean?' He answered in confusion.

'You are miles from the man I met all those months ago.'

'I am the same man, Maria,' he teased, 'Maybe you think I'm different because you've known me that long.'

'No,' she stopped at his chest, looking quite giddy, 'you've changed in a different way.'

He smirked at her, 'and in what way is that?'

Even though he answered back, he ultimately knew she was right. He had changed in a way he didn't think he could ever have after the death of his first wife; But then he had fallen in love with Maria - and there had been no reverse to that. Nothing that could stop him, even though he never would have anticipated it.

'You are..softer, gentler, everything I never imagined you could be. I see new things in you everyday, little things I notice. It's things I see that I never saw before too.'

'How very poetic.' He smiled.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blinked, looking down at his hands holding her arms in steadying her.

'What I'm trying to say is, you have shown me a side to you I never thought was there.'

'Well, I can show you more if you want me to.' He drawled.

Maria looked up into his eyes, seeing the invitation there. Georg knew it was the right time to lean down and kiss her. The moon cast shadows over them through the distortion of the window, with lights twinkling all over Paris filling the room with a golden hue. Maria's arms rested on his shoulders and her hands fingered the hair at the nape of his neck. Although Maria sometimes had difficulty in believing she was his wife, Georg felt the same to be her husband. It felt foreign when he kissed her, but it ultimately felt right. He supposed there would be a number of things he hadn't seen before and would have to get used to, but for now just the taste of her lips on his was a newfangled, heavenly experience.

Drawing away, he stepped back, gleaming at the look on his wife's face, and offered her his hand to take.

'I believe the bedroom to be currently unused.' He smirked wickedly.

Although she acceptingly took it, she held him back. Looking quizzically into her eyes, he saw then a hint of uneasiness in her face.

'What's the matter, darling?' He asked, wondering if she had grown shy of their nightly activities. The first time she had been nervous, but by this point Georg didn't think it would still be there.

'At the party, when I was speaking to that woman and she said you had previously went with Elsa, it made me wonder..'

Georg felt silly for questioning his wife's nerve, although now he felt anxious at what she had said. He thought that once she would stop talking he would tell her everything about Elsa Shraeder was in the past and that she was the woman he loved. But again, he was thrown off by what she said next.

'About the gap in the hedges with the trees, I thought that you knew it was there because you had taken Elsa there...oh, now I feel childish and jealous. It shouldn't matter, should it Georg? I'm sorry, forgive me.'

He quite literally stood there in shock until she had exclaimed her apologies and then he kissed her on the forehead.

'Don't be sorry, Maria. I think... It is quite understandable, what you are asking,' he smiled uneasily, 'yes, I had taken Elsa there before, but I foolishly hadn't had the courage or the temptation to take her through that gap. I knew about it because, well, sometimes me and the gentleman used to smoke pipes and cigars and things back there, which is unfortunately my vice, granted. I've completely given that up, since then. But, I wanted to get away from the party, as you did, and I remembered that place.'

Maria smiled, her eyes affected by it, 'see,' she said, looping arms around his neck again, 'that's a side of you that I didn't know about.'

Georg chuckled slightly, marvelling at how flawlessly adroit, and perfect she was. So perfect.

'May I have this dance?' He asked, extending his hand again, and turning in the direction of their bedroom; and he saw the light twinkling behind her eyes and a smile playing on her lips. As she took his hand, she whispered 'gladly.'

Grinning, he pulled her into the room, then closed the door firmly behind them.