Disclaimer- I don't own Moulin Rouge. No shit eh?
Author's note- I'm a little hesitant to post this because I know it's only been done 3908490574895746895469085469085460845323424435465675765453232190721928 times. Yes this is another Satine-didn't-die-she-just-fell-down-really-really-hard fics. All the same, this is a far cry from fluff, since I hate fluff and think it should die. Right so don't let me scare you away… read and review, you know the drill.
This story is in no way related to the other stories I've written. I've written a number of them about Satine's past but Satine has a whole new past in this one so, painful as it is, you have to forget all my other stories if you want to read this one… if that's too much to handle you'll just have to be really really confused…
Satine looked out the carriage's only window at the open moor. Satine hated the countryside, with no bright lights or booming music for distraction she was left only with her own thoughts, something she had been trying to escape from her whole life. She pulled her icy eyes away from endless expanse of green to face the other two people in the carriage. She wished it was just her and Christian so she could speak her mind but there was another man there, Christian's uncle, who she didn't like in the least.
Edmund James was a small, balding man who looked like he spent most of his time locked up in some estate counting his money. Satine, who was always in the spotlight, was surprisingly terrified of strangers. Certainly she let strangers have their way with her, but to actually have a conversation with a stranger where they judged her on more than her body was impossibly difficult.
The carriage jolted over the bumpy road and Satine's stomach lurched, reminding her of why she was here in the first place. The sickness. Satine had hated the Moulin Rouge, and had dreamed of flying away from it. However she had loved Paris as much as she feared it. Despite the hardships she had suffered there, Paris had been her home most of her life, she had nothing else if she didn't have it. Ever since she was little the bright lights had enchanted her. But the city she loved would eventually have been her death.
Indeed she thought it had been. The doctors too, thought she might not make it. She remembered very little of what had happened that night, only blackness and Christian. Indeed, even as she fell into that pit of dark, towards something better and warmer than what she had left behind, she was thinking of Christian's face. She had clung to it, literally, for dear life.
The carriage jolted to a stop in front of a gorgeous stone house, covered in ivy and surrounded by flowers. It was also castle like in size. Satine tried not to look too shocked by it. She had known Christian's family had money, but had never actually considered what that meant. So much for penniless poet.
Christian bid his uncle -who lived just down the road- good-bye for now as Satine lifted her suitcase, it wasn't heavy. All that she owned now could fit in a two foot box. She was poor now, her diamonds gone to pay for the theater. The Moulin had suffered without a lead actress and they were all in massive debt.
Several maids in white aprons came running from the house to get the bags. Satine tried to carry her own bag, suddenly very awkward. Christian took it from her, handing it to the nearest maid, a small girl who didn't look like she was out of her teens.
"Don't be silly Satine, you're sick." he wrapped a protective arm around her thin shoulders. Satine was uncomfortable but didn't protest. They walked up the drive and into the hall. The house was spotless and huge. The walls were made of a deep reddish wood that Satine, being who she was, didn't know the name of.
In this fine lit hall Satine's dusty coat and tattered suit case seemed even more out of place. She was suddenly painfully aware of her own faults. In such and elegant, peaceful hall, talking loudly seemed like a crime. The stuffy silence was broken by a girls yells.
In a ball of ribbon and curls Christian was practically knocked off his feet. When he straightened up a plain but pleasant looking young woman had her arms around his neck and was squeezing him like she'd never let go.
"I knew you'd come back! We've been waiting for you ever since we heard you were coming. I told father you would. Mama's so excited!"
"Calm down Lizzy." She giggled. "People still call you Lizzy don't they?"
"Well not actually... but you can of course." She added hastily. "Oh I'm so excited!"
"When did this happen?" He said, placing his hand on her bulging belly."
"Five months ago... do you really want the details?" She laughed and for the first time took notice of Satine. She looked from her to Christian and she smiled widened. "Where have your manners gone little brother?"
"Oh! Satine, this is my sister Lizzy... er Eliza. Lizzy this is Satine." Satine held out her hand politely. Eliza took it and winked. She was slightly shorter than Christian and had his eyes. Her face was rather round and childish. This youthful look was added to by the hair bows, which Satine had never seen on someone over ten.
"Don't worry about manners with me; it's the parents you have to watch out for." Satine smiled back weakly.
"So Chrissie my boy, tell my about Paris..." Eliza said. "Was it a writer's paradise?"
"You could say that, I'll have to show you my writing. What have you been up to?" T
The siblings were still reminiscing as they entered the parlor. A round grey haired woman who had Eliza's pleasant face was working on embroidery with a plump and pretty blond. Their where two pudgy boys playing at their feet.
The elder woman gasped and jumped up when she saw Christian and ran to hug him. He hugged her back but noticed her body was shaking and her breathing was shallow. Just excitement, he told himself. He was so used to dealing with Satine's sickness by now that he saw everything as symptoms.
"Oh my son, I've been so worried." She didn't let him go for nearly a minute. When they broke apart he face was wet.
"Don't cry mum, I'm home."
"Hello Christian," said the blond. "Don you remember Uncle Christian? Geoff doesn't remember you; he was too little when you left."
"I do memember," said the smaller boy, his pudgy hand in his mouth.
"No you don't Geoffy, don't lie," reprimanded the blonde woman.
"Mum, Jane, this is Satine. Satine this is my mum, my sister-in-law Jane and her sons. Donnie and Geoff."
"Pleased."
"Indeed."
"You must tell us all about Paris... but first you should clean up. Dinner is a six."
Then they were shown upstairs to their rooms. Christian was to sleep in his old bed room and Satine was given the guest room. Satine flushed when she realized they probably thought she was a virgin. Christian went into Satine's room with her. The guest suite was spacious and the large windows looked out on the moors.
"I'm sorry that my family is so..." Christian searched for words to describe them.
"I like them. And I like your house," said Satine. She sat on the bed, dangling her legs.
"You don't know them," Christian protested.
"I still like them," she said firmly.
"Satine you don't understand," he looked mildly exasperated.
"What don't I understand? Families love each other and if I don't understand that it makes sense. I don't have one." She didn't say it to gain his pity, only to make him understand but he didn't catch on.
"Satine, I'm sorry..."
"It's fine. Do I have time for a nap before dinner?"
"A quick one. Do you need anything?" He seemed eager to make her feel better.
"Well maybe some water to wash."
"I'll have the servants bring some up."
"No it's fine, I don't need it." she climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, falling instantly into sleep.
Satine awoke quite suddenly, and the first thing that she saw was a porcelain pitcher filled with steaming water. She wasn't immediately sure what had woken her. Then she heard it again.
"Dinner is in 15 minutes Miss, you best get up now."
Satine got up stretching, still stiff from the carriage ride. Looking around Christian was no where in sight. She did however find all her clothes had been taken out of her trunk and hung in the wardrobe. Satine felt all of her clothes would be out of place here.
Finally she picked out a purple dress which wasn't too avant-garde or too tattered. Then she washed and dressed, looking with distaste at her bare neck and ears. Well she didn't need her diamonds; she thought heavily, she just needed Christian.
Dinner was, to say the least, an interesting affair. Satine met Christian's older brother Donald, the husband of Jane. He was a big, cheerful man who looked a lot like Christian only taller and with curly hair. Eliza's husband Ted was there too. He was smaller boned than most of the family and fairer haired. His nose was too big for good looks but like Eliza, he didn't need them. He was immediately likable.
Eliza was radiant around him, patting her belly, looking into his eyes, smiling at everyone. No one ate; they waited for the master of the house to arrive. Satine was finding it all enjoyable until this moment. father was a stiff, old-fashioned man. He was quick to anger and slow to forgive.
"Father-" Christian began.
"You are not my son," his voice was a dangerous growl. "Get out of my house."
"Richard-" protested Christian's mother. She was cut off.
"Abigail, stay out of this. It's between me and the boy." he turned to Christian. "You, and your whore, you aren't wanted here." Christian didn't budge. Satine got up, her hand on Christian's shoulder.
"C'mon Christian, let's go, please let's go." Satine's face was blank and unreadable, her best acting, but Christian knew the whore comment had really hit hard, despite having heard it many times before. Slowly Christian stood up. Satine started walking out of the room but realized half way that he hadn't followed. She turned around. He was confronting the old man.
"Father, you can kick me out but first there someone I want you to meet. This is Satine, we're in love. You can say what you want; I'm going to marry this girl." Satine was painfully aware of Christian's entire family watching her. He came to stand beside her.
"C'mon, let's go." Satine's feet were numb as she and Christian went outside. They were silent for several minutes; Christian was walking pointedly through the gardens. Satine was still mulling over what had just happened. She was slightly annoyed the Christian had told them he was going to marry her, before he had even told her, but more than annoyed she was touched that he said it. Finally she spoke.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see." They pushed through a hidden path in the flowering bushes. Satine thought she heard water somewhere close by. Sure enough the path opened onto the bank of a bubbling stream. A weeping willow grew on the bank and its flowing branches fell into the water. Christian led her under the tree.
The ground was thick with heather and laurel. And a swing hung from the branches. Satine was surprised to see a small girl sitting on the swing. She had her back turned to them so all Satine saw was a sheet of tangled brown hair and leather boots dangling just above the brambly ground.
"Bunny!" Christian exclaimed. The little girl didn't respond. She continued to sit, her back to them. "Bunny? Is that you?"
"You left." Her voice was soft but accusing.
"Yes, but now I'm back love." Christian put a hand on her shoulder.
"You killed Mama!"
"Bunny, Mama's not dead; she's up at the house."
"Mama is dead! You killed her! She's dead." Bunny kicked the ground as she jumped from her swing, running into the bushes. Christian ran after her, Satine at his heels. The setting sun illuminated the water and cast the silhouette of the child beside it into shadow.
"Where-" Christian began.
"Shhhh" Satine whispered.
"Oh…" Slowly Christian made towards his littlest sister; sitting on the bank he placed a hand softly on her little shoulder. Bunny let out a low wail of despair and buried her face in his shirt, crying without shame. Satine watched from the bushes, out of breath. Her head was spinning like it had the night she collapsed but this time she was fighting it with every cell in her body.
Darkness was obscuring her vision. She lay on the grass and silently passed out in the bushes. Later she was vaguely aware of voices over her but she was unable to move, her body felt as though it were made of led. Then everything was gone.
Satine's eyes flew open but the room was so dark, she wondered for a second if they actually had. Blinking as she adjusted to the light, she saw she was in a bed in an unfamiliar room. Shivering despite the heat she pulled the covers tighter around her. Where was she?
Then it all came back to her. Christian, dinner, Bunny, fainting.
Satine rose slowly out of bed, surprised to see that the nightgown she was wearing wasn't hers. She crept slowly towards the door, still weak and shaky. She pushed the heavy door open, wincing as it creaked. She moved silently through the hall, checking at every corner for servants.
"Satine?" a voice behind her called. It was Eliza, her hair was down now and she was wearing a pink dressing gown. "Christian's downstairs. Don't worry, father left." She added seeing the hesitation on Satine's face. The two women made their way downstairs.
In the living room Christian, Donald and Ted were sitting around the fire. Bunny was curled up in a chair away from the fire, apparently asleep. Ted was the first to notice their entrance.
"Are you alright?" he asked Satine. "We were quiet worried." Satine blushed.
"I'm fine… that just happens to me sometimes…" she didn't feel like explaining her illness to all of them. She sat beside Christian, feeling awkward in her nightdress. Eliza was wearing at least a dressing gown. Satine had of course very little modesty when she was a courtesan, since she had little choice about such things but in polite company she felt most out of place. "Christian, I think I'll go back to bed, is that alright?"
"Of course, in fact, I think I'll walk up with you." In the hall Christian wrapped his arms around Satine, noticing how thin she was. "You need to eat some good British food; you'll be round as a pumpkin in no time." Satine leaned into his chest and closed her eyes, too weak to smile.