I'm back! At last- the promised chapter. If it's a little confused or seems, to you, somewhat pointless, I apologize profusely- I wanted to get this up, get their time in Stockholm done, so that 1) you all could have something new to read, of course!; and 2) so I can move on to the much more exciting parts...rest assured, I've quite an adventure planned for you all...! (PS- Speaking of 'adventure'- please don't shoot me for the amount of times I've used that word in this phic/just this chapter. Little heads-up; it's 1 AM and I'm feeling considerably more inarticulate than not!...)

ALSO: Thank you ALL, once again, for the friendly reviews- it's more than I could have hoped for, seeing the amount of anti-Raoul people out there bashing away...granted, I used to be one of them, but- oh, never mind. Just a quick shout to TheQueenSarah: I really appreciate the time you took to write that review; and I'm glad I've helped persuade you a little more on Raoul's side:)

Alors, enough of all this- onto l'histoire...:

It was really the first place I'd ever visited outside of Paris—visited properly, that is…finally a chance to explore things completely new to me; to see just a fraction more of the wonderful world I knew was still waiting everywhere around me. But I didn't mind that it was only one city—it was as amazing to me as a cruise around the world by sea would have been at that time, and besides, there was so much more we would see when we left!

The carriage had taken us to a fairly classy inn, and I was surprised to hear my parents conversing with the owners in fluent Swedish. Why had I never known they spoke it? Well, it wouldn't have been much use in Paris…but from all their travels, I reasoned, there was probably a lot more I didn't know about them.

We settled ourselves and our luggage in our rooms, and made our way into the cozy little drawing room attached to the bedrooms to sit a moment and talk over the rough plans. From the start, Mother and Father had warned us it wouldn't be like Paris at all; besides the fact that it was a completely new country, we wouldn't be running on 'schedules' as we were used to: the way they traveled was they simply went where their feet led them. It was yet another part of my parents I'd never seen: they'd always been firm in their raising of Philipe and I, of course; but more and more I was discovering their love for wild adventure and free-spirited wandering.

We decided that that day we'd not wander too far from the inn: the journey had been hard on all of us, but especially so for Philipe: he'd been green in the face since halfway through our voyage by sea. The next day, we'd explore the heart of Stockholm; afterwards, perhaps we'd travel along the outskirts to see every aspect of life there. We didn't have all the time in the world—the trip was mainly for Russia—but the deadlines weren't too harsh; we had at least a good four or five days to spend in Sweden.

That very night, as we wandered down one of the main streets after a satisfying dinner, we came across a billboard in front of a concert theater, with hand-drawn posters advertising various musicians and shows. We all paused a moment out of interest for the music—who could resist?—and Mother, Father and Philipe kept walking soon, but as I followed, a name caught my eye and I had Father translate the text of the ad:

This April

At the Bergmann Theatre

Sweden's Best:

Charles Daaé, Violinist

A sort of impressionist-style portrait was attached to the bottom of the page: yes, it was certainly him! Christine's father!

I'd always known he was an exceptional musician, on the violin especially—and Christine raved about him constantly—but neither had mentioned that he played professionally! Shame he wasn't coming when we were there…it would have been wonderful to see him perform for an audience…and perhaps Christine would come….

Christine again! Why would she not leave my thoughts? My excitement at the adventure of it all had occupied me momentarily, but now I was back to the longing. I hoped dearly that we'd find sufficient distraction in the days that followed in and outside the city.

However, the respite I longed for from my little angel-on-earth's face was further from my grasp than I'd thought. As it turned out, the sighting of that advertisement was merely a warning as to his enormous fame there. Outside every theater; buzzing in every café—his name loomed over the city like a conductor's baton, ready to launch the full orchestra of the world into a great masterpiece. Indeed, the mentioning of Monsieur Daaé by every single person seemed to grow in a great crescendo—it came to the point where I was almost listening for it, and I was sure I always heard someone say it, every single time.

Our days in Stockholm passed quickly, though; one thing for which I was grateful—finally, I'd be free from the curse of thought forced upon me! But despite my inability to put her from my mind—obsessive, annoying, and repetitive as it was—I did enjoy the sights, the sounds, the smells of this new place. Every step we took was an adventure for me—and while I wished I were taking those steps with Christine at my side, it was something I'd always longed for—finally, my dream was realized! And I wasn't about to take it for granted.

Somehow the trip brought Philipe and I closer, too—yet another benefit from the whole thing. We shared jokes and speculations; we would hide from Mother and Father together—dodging behind statues and columns and trees in the lavish gardens we explored, watching them as they either searched for us in a frenzied panic, or ignored our absence completely and reminisced of all their travels of years gone by. And it was true—Mother and Father were, for the most part, happier than I'd ever seen them before. If anyone was ever truly "in their own element", as they say, it was them in this country, doing what they loved best: exploring a new physical place while they simultaneously explored new places in their romance. My own parents are the reason I believe in true love and marriage: things are always changing; "everything flows"—every day is new in love, I'd come to learn, just from observation.

Overall, Stockholm was one of the most blissfully peaceful and happy times I had in my childhood, surrounded by my family and their love. I knew not what Russia would bring, but as a family, even the negative aspects could be just what they were supposed to be: an adventure.

And, an adventure is certainly what I should have expected—for it's exactly what I got…

Review! Oh, and, tell me if anyone picked up on "everything flows"- WITHOUT consulting your copy of "Sophie's World" (big gigantic hint right there, by the way), tell me what philosopher voiced the famous saying...! ;)