Chapter Text
Agnes Brakulle and her husband David sat together in the common room of their house together, their adopted daughter sleeping in the other room dreaming her first childish dreams and teaching herself to talk just a little after having been nursed and suckled and nurtured as every child should be. Agnes and David sat together in the living room of their small house discussing the affairs of the day.
“Do you think she will be okay?” David asked his wife as they sat together and pndered upon their future.
“I think she will” Agnes responded after some marked hesitation, “She doesn’t look too foreign, at least so far. I think she will be able to blend into the foliage surrounding us, if you know what I mean”.
David chuckled to himself as his wife winked at him, for he understood fully well what it was that she meant. Agnes liked that about him. He was a kind and gentle man, always willing to help change diapers or do the cooking or help take care of the infant when Agnes herself was unable to do so. He was a good, sweet boy, and Agnes loved that about him the most of all.
“So how’s our landlord lately?” Agnes asked with a mixture of flirtation and genuine curiosity.
“Old Gustaf Harkonnen?” David chuckled to himself loudly as he thought about the whole entirety of the situation, “O he is nowhere near as pernicious as he used to be. I think he’s coming down with some complaint of the bowels or the liver from all the drinking that he’s done over the years. Now his nephew Theodore is stomping around the place demanding money from all the present peasantry and making a nuisance of himself just in general”.
“That sounds like a Harkonnen, alrihgt!” Agnes laughed as loudly as she could without waking up the baby, “Spicy tempers and choleric dispositions and making a mess for everyone fucking else! They should all go fuck on back to Helsinki as far as I am concerned!”.
David laughed as loudly as he could without waking the baby, and the two of them sat together in solemn and quiet contentment as they rolled these things around in both their heads. Eventually, the time came for them to think about the child’s name, for she needed a name more than she would need anything else in the whole entirety of the world at the moment and in the near future too, of course.
“How about, Maria?” Agnes suggested, “It is, after all, the name of the current Queen’s youngest daughter, and it would be a great tribute to the royal family in times to come”.
“I honestly do not track much with that sort of stuff” David said as he poured some tea into a kettle for the sake of his own and Agnes’ consumption too, “I prefer something more personal and less generic. Something that reflects us as a family and does not rely purely on pleasing somebody else who has authority”.
Agnes nodded along with her husband as she listened to and agreed with his words. Their child did indeed need a special and unique name that would set her apart from the rest of the world, while Maria was a rather generic and plain and ordinary name that did not stand out much rom the other girls of the village or of the realm in general, in all honesty.
“Do you have any relatives who are especially close to you, David? If you do not mind my asking, that is” Agnes asked in her attempt to find a decent name for her adoptive daughter to bear in the nearest possible future of her lifetime upon this Earth.
“I had an uncle named Kristoff” David responded, “He was the one who taught me to play the piano and play the violin as well. I have so many fond memories of him, but he died five years ago and I miss him oh so much”.
“Then let us honour his memory, David!” Agnes cried out as she banged her fist upon her husband’s coffee table in a state of excitement and the utmost passion possible, “Let us name our daughter in his honour and to keep his memory burning in the fires of posterity for a little while longer as far as she will live”.
“So, Christine, it is then?” David asked his wife as the deal was at last concluded.
“Yes” said Agnes in response to her husband’s queryings, “Her name shall be Christine Elizabeth Daae of Skotelov in the Realm of Sweden”.
“Christine it is then” David said at last as he hummed “Staffan var en Stalledrang” to himself as the winter chill and winds swirled around their house while they themselves remained safely ensconced inside their household, “Christine Daae it is then”.
And so it was that a destiny was set into motion and the winds of fate blew ever onwards to their eventual destination many years down the Great Flow of Time’s Mighty River.