** I don't own Phantom in any way, nor do I own any of its characters. **
A/N: This is my first fic ever, so hopefully it's okay. I wrote this as a way to practice characterization, and I ended up liking how it turned out. It is part of a series of how I headcanon Raoul and Christine after the events of PotO: running off to Sweden, then getting married and having children. No LND in my book :) There are no content warnings for this one, but it isn't particularly romantic. The children are all original characters, so if that isn't your cup of tea, you might want to skip this one. Anyways, please enjoy!
The fire crackles, emitting a gentle heat through the room, though snow taps gently on the windows. Raoul glances at Christine, who is curled up next to him as she reads. As he sweeps his gaze across the room to each of his children, he smiles.
Their oldest, Élisabeth, Lise for short, plays a nocturne on the piano. She is seventeen, soon to be eighteen, and Raoul thinks that with his first daughter, the time has gone entirely too quickly. Élisabeth is a spitting image of her mother; brown curls, wise eyes, and a sweet smile. She's inherited Christine's lovely voice, but she plays the piano better than either of her parents. She is gentle and far too wise for seventeen; like her soul is older than the rest of her. Her whole face lights up when she is happy and she is witty, though Raoul is not sure where she learned to make the family laugh so often. She would be content to curl up with a book and a cup of tea any day or to go on a walk on the shore alone, but she loves people, especially children. She's in love with Jonathan, a quiet and intelligent boy- set to be the small town's doctor in due time- who matches Élisabeth's gentle spirit. He brings her flowers and they write letters, exchanging books. (Raoul cannot find his copy of A Tale of Two Cities but he doesn't mind.)
Their next, Gustave, turns the pages of the music for his older sister. The two siblings, separated by only two years, are practically inseparable. Like his namesake, he plays the violin wonderfully. Raoul often hears the frustrated mumblings from across the room whilst Gustave plays the same passage of a song over and over until it's perfect. He is shy and sensitive, rarely sharing his feelings and instead letting them stew until he can take his frustrations out on the violin. He speaks softly, always, and has the patience of a saint, running his hand through his dark brown hair as he listens patiently to this or that. Raoul remembers the first ball Gustave attended, he practiced asking for a dance on Élisabeth, who gently bore the nervous murmuring of her younger brother. He turns the page for her again, sharing a smile with his sister as she works through the third movement.
Clara, twelve, is curled on the sofa next to her twin brother, Adrien. She is reading something thick and heavy, but alas, Raoul cannot see the cover because she needs her knees to prop it up. Quite the child after his own heart, she devours book after book from his little collection, some even before her well-read older sister. Among her favorites are Dickens and Austen, but she would gladly read the dictionary. Her brown hair falls in curls like Christine but she has inherited his own blue eyes. She is a bit shyer than Lise, preferring to read in a corner, and she excels at school. However, quite like her sister, she is gentle and sweet, with a calm manner. Raoul remembers distinctly the way she had shyly asked for his copy of Emma, and how she had told him, when she finished a day later, how much she loved it. He had told her that she could have any book in his collection and that he thought it was wonderful that she loved reading, and she smiled brighter than he'd ever seen. Now, she turns a page, snuggling into the edge of the sofa a bit more.
Adrien, also twelve, draws next to his sister. Raoul cannot make out the light pencil scratches on the sketchbook. He is a talented artist, and although he prefers to paint, any medium he uses turns out beautifully. Blond and blue-eyed, Adrien looks somehow nothing like either of his parents and is a good deal less shy than his older three siblings, and certainly more talkative. He has endless energy that sometimes gets him into mischief at school, but with Clara there to chastise him, he usually subdues. He turns the sketchbook again, to catch a better angle, Raoul supposes. He catches a glimpse of the drawing only to see that it is a likeness of Clara as she reads, her concentrated face in pencil-sharp detail.
On the other side of the room, Nathaniel stacks a set of blocks into a delicate-looking balance. Only nine, Nathaniel has double Adrien's energy, is quickest to smile, and loves building anything with his hands. He hates reading, which he loudly proclaimed while Raoul was in the middle of A Tale of Two Cities. This made Christine laugh, and Raoul was only a touch miffed, but he quickly laughed it off and ruffled his son's light brown hair. Often Raoul will walk in the door from work, somewhat exhausted, to Nathaniel jumping about and hugging him. It always makes Raoul smile, how full of love Nathaniel is, then the reverie is broken because Adrien offers to race Nathaniel to the beach so as to cleverly give his father a moment's peace. Nathaniel stacks yet another block.
Adeline, who is only seven, is watching her sister play the piano in earnest, her hair plaited evenly by Clara earlier that night. She wishes to be an actress, like her mother, which makes Christine smile proudly, although the future desires of a child are so subject to change. She is the most outgoing of all the De Chagny sisters, always chattering to Nathaniel or Élisabeth or anyone who will listen. Adeline is the most stubborn, too, though likely due to her youth, Raoul has never once seen her back down from anything. He fondly thinks of the time she climbed a tree all the way to the top (Christine nearly fainted) just to prove that she was a better climber than Nathaniel, who had dropped halfway. Élisabeth, bless her, had to climb up and get Adeline who was scared to climb down. Adeline still teases Nathaniel about it too. For now, she is quiet, not racing or moving, and is transfixed with her older sister.
Their youngest child, at five years, Isabel, is curled up next to Adrien, who permits her to sleep in the small space which is left on the sofa. Isabel is soft-spoken but with a wonderfully kind heart, always physically affectionate with everyone. She is easygoing too, not troubled by changes in routine, which never fails to be appreciated. Isabel is the other child who will promptly jump on top of Raoul when he gets home, in fact, she does it with everyone. And of course, because she is the youngest, they all coddle her, and no one seems to mind. She is deeply asleep now, breathing softly against the back of her older brother.
Christine nestles closer into him, closing her book. "Perhaps we should put the children to bed, poor Isabel is asleep." He smiles, kissing his wife on the cheek.
"Yes, of course," he replies, but before he gets up to move, he takes one last look at the scene. To capture this moment and live in it, how lovely that would be, he thinks.
