This is born from my deep love of Raoul and the song, "New Words" which I first heard performed by Brian Stokes Mitchell. Disclaimers are a must, however unneeded they may be. I do not own the song "New Words" nor the Phantom of the Opera. This story is not used for commercial gain, and the only creation of my own is that of Isidore.
Isidore creeps from his room, his feet padding softly along the carpet. It is bad dreams that has driven him from his slumber. He hurries past an open door; the dark leaves him nervous, finding silhouettes of people who aren't there. The door to his parents' room is closed and he leans up to grab the door handle. The door opens with a big creak, so Isidore stops, but when the deep breathing and soft snoring continues he enters, and throws himself onto his parents' bed. With no reaction from either of them, he huffs in annoyance, but snuggles up to his father. He pokes his father's side in annoyance. "Papa!" comes out as a whine, and only with the insistent poking does the Vicomte de Chagny finally stir.
He opens his eyes blearily and looks at Isidore's expectant face. He blinks rapidly to clear the sleep out of his eyes, and finally addresses his son.
"Yes, Izzy?" is the question which comes out as more of a yawn.
"Papa, I'm scared. Can I sleep with you and Mama tonight?"
"Yes," Raoul replies immediately. "But first, I want to try something with you. Okay?"
"Okay."
Raoul sits up and allows to boy to grab a hold of his neck and climb onto his back. With a small grunt, he gets off of the bed and walks out of the room.
They pass by another room with the door left open, and Isidore quickly hides his face in his father's hair.
Isidore only notices that they have gone outside when he feels the cool breeze against his neck. His father makes way for the stone bench, where he places Isidore in front of him and finally sits down.
It's very quiet, without all the birds chattering like they did during daylight, when Isidore would go out into his mother's garden.
"Look at the big, white, round thing in the sky. We call it the moon, my son. Can you say it?"
"Moon," Isidore repeats. He turns to Raoul, a big smile on his face. "Are you teaching me new words, Papa?"
Raoul smiles too and nods. Isidore turns back to looking at the sky and waits patiently for Raoul to continue.
"See the shining sparks of light? The ones the burn in the darkness? We call them stars my son. Say stars."
"Stars," Isidore says, relishing in the new word.
Raoul points at the red planet. "That one is Mars, my son."
"Mars!"
Raoul chuckles. "Who would think it astounds such as you and I, to simply name their names?"
And as Isidore stares enraptured at the sky, Raoul feels his heart grow light. "Turn your eyes from the skies now, Isidore, and look at me."
When Isidore does as asked, Raoul continues.
"There's a light in my eyes now, Izzy. And there is a word for what you see. We call it love, my son. Say love."
"That's not a new word, Papa," Isidore says sternly. And Raoul laughs before pressing a kiss to his son's forehead.
"No, but it is a rather good one, don't you think?"