Danse Macabre

Chapter One

The New Patron

Summary- A year after the events at the Opera House, Christine and Raoul have been married for some months. Raoul has become patron to the Moulin Rouge, in Montmartre, and while witnessing a tragic love tale there, Christine rethinks her decision.

Disclaimer- I own no one that looks familiar.

Notes: My first crossover ever, be gentle. More film Phantom based, so I'll be trying to describe Emmy and Gerard. It takes place in 1871, instead of 1899, so as to better fit time-line. I didn't want Christine to have waited 30 years to rethink her decision.

Prologue

Montmartre, a dark place of illustrious people and ideals, passion, beauty, love, freedom, all had existed and yet all had been shattered when their goddess had died. Consumption was not uncommon, but Satine was so large a figure that all the activity had ceased. Christine glanced up at the window that was so familiar to her and sighed sadly, allowed her love to escort her from the carriage and up the stairs, she knocked thrice, but no one answered, so she opened the door. It stunk of sweat, rotten food and alcohol inside, she frowned, felt tears prick her eyes as the bearded man in the corner saw her, his face was that of a ghost and his eyes no longer held life in them, rather a wish to be dead. A wish to be with her.

"Oh, Christian." She hurried over and sat next to him, looked intently upon him as he formed words to speak to her. "She was never su-pp-pp-os–ed t-to da-da-da-die!" He sobbed, began to cry. She let several tears fall down her smooth, pale cheeks, took his head and held it in her lap as he cried, stroked his head like a mother with her broken hearted child. "Oh hush now, you can't live like this, Christian. You promised her." She made him look up at her. "You promised me!"

It had all come to happen one year ago.

The sun had shown brightly as Raoul de Chagny had escorted his 17 year old bride from their carriage, her eyes were glued, however, to the large, elaborate windmill. She exhaled deeply, smiled up at him. His smile was soft, amused, you might say. As she gazed at her surroundings he gazed upon her, the simple champagne colored silk gown, which draped about to all come together in the back, where it seemingly tied in a bow. Her hair was fairly loose, as she preferred it, the sides near her temples swept back and fastened by a lovely antique pin.

But none of their arrival matters, only that a year after the Opera House had been damaged in a fire caused by Christine's ghostly friend, they arrived at the Moulin Rouge so that Raoul could discuss business with M. Harold Zidler.

Not long into the conversation an old red haired woman had come to collect her, Zidler explained that he knew she might be bored during the meeting, and she might have a more enjoyable time with the other women. Christine kindly accepted after kissing Raoul's cheek and followed the woman, Marie, to a dressing room backstage, it was cramped, a lot of plumbing ran through there. Soon after their arrival, a stunning red head met them and took up the tour.

"Hello! You must be Vicomtesse de Chagny!"

"Yes, pleased to make your acquaintance." Christine said and shook the beauty's offered hand. "I am Satine, just call me Satine. What is your first name?"

"Oh, it's Christine."

"Yes, now I recall. I'm sorry I was a bit late, I just got out of rehearsal."

"I know how that feels." The young viscountess gazed around, sighed. "I'm sure you heard, I used to be a singer at the Opera Populaire. I am glad I left it behind but I miss singing, Raoul forbids it, he says it brings him bad memories."

"That's terrible! So he makes all the money and you just, hold his hand?"

"I'm afraid so, I can't work, can't see my old friends, but I love Raoul. I have for a very long time." She sighed, smoothed the front of her plain, but expensive dress, she did not bother with gloves, or hats or bags, and she didn't wear much jewelry, the dress was often enough.

Satine gazed at her, smiled softly and said. "You're very young aren't you? You look very young."

Christine grinned, nodded. "I'm seventeen."

"Wow. You poor thing, well, let's give you a look around before all the gentlemen come in tonight, hmm?"

Christine nodded and shyly followed, Satine was probably ten years older, but she was very beautiful, she had red hair which was swept up on top of her hair rather carelessly. Her dress was a deep violet, beaded in parts, with some ornate stitching on the skirt, her corset seemed tighter than any woman's that Christine had seen. She frowned when she heard her cough, figuring it must be a terrible thing to wear.

Two hours later the couple had left and Satine was staring at Harold with disbelief written on every part of her face. "I'm, I'm to sleep with the Vicomte? But what of his wife?"

"Mme de Chagny will not know, it will be harmless!"

"I spent time with her, Harold, she was so sweet and innocent, I couldn't possibly, no, I won't do it."

"Satine, he is the only one who can help us. Only M de Changy can provide you with stardom, surely one night of passion is a sufficient price for that? Hmmm?"

She was breathless, coughed for a moment, but suppressed the need to faint. She met her eyes with his, it was for the best, they said. She sighed, sat down in front of his desk and took a cigarette, lit it and inhaled a couple of drags before beginning to cough again. "It isn't fair."

"I know darling, she is but a child, but that is how life must go, hard. She will learn to cope. As for you, you shall be the thriving actress she could only dream of being."

She thought about the girl, and what she'd read about her in the papers. "She . . she knew Erik, Harold."

He said nothing, his eyes widened and he looked as if he wanted her to explain. "At the opera, do you remember in the papers, the woman he was madly in love with. That's her, the child soprano."

"Oh dear God, the one Nadir said broke his heart. But didn't he let them go?"

"Yes, yes, he didn't want her to waste her life away beneath the opera house. Still, when I looked into her eyes, I could see how much he affected her, she has feelings for him, she is only afraid of him."

"Will Erik be coming tonight?"

She smiled, shrugged. "That's the beauty of it, never can tell, we can hope, tho." She sighed then, her smile fading. "I just hope if he does come that he won't . . . Try, anything."

Harold sighed, shrugged softly. "I seriously doubt it, he will watch her, mourn, hide in the shadows of his box. It is a pity tho, I hate seeing him so sad, especially when it all could have been avoided but he's so damned stubborn," he sighed, shook his head. "Well anyhow, go on and get ready, you have a big night ahead of you."

She smiled faintly, nodded and stubbed the hardly touched cigarette out, stood and sauntered out, thinking of the young girls smile, and watching it being crushed as she learned of her husband and friend's infidelity, it would not be the first time she slept with a married man, but the first time she knew the mans wife, she was only a girl, and she had been through enough all ready.

Perhaps is Erik came tonight, perhaps she could push THEM together, yes, yes it could very well work!

"Tonight, Vicomte, you signed your divorce papers. And signed the witness part of Erik and Christine's marriage license!" She whispered softly, having no idea what was in store for her this evening. She had absolutely no idea, that she too would fall in love.

"I wonder where Toulouse has been, it's been awfully quiet."

"Oh, they're rehearsing, over at the hotel," Nini caught up with her and Satine smiled.

"Probably driving the others insane."

"More than likely, see you tonight." Nini hurried off with a smug grin and bounce of curling hair as she was late for her costuming.

It was a good thing Raoul had explained the Moulin Rouge's purpose to Christine earlier, or she might have wondered why so many men were there. She sighed softly as they sat in the box, looked at Raoul who was excitedly gazing at the dancers, all of which she had met and all of which waved to her. She bit her lip, looked at Raoul's enchanted face again, then stood and went into the box next to theirs. "Excuse me, messieurs." She gave a smile, one man, whom apparently hadn't been here either, looked up at her and gaped, she felt underdressed in the green gown, which exposed much of her cleavage and left the mind to wonder with it's tightness, Roaul had selected it, and she understood why now.

"A-are you S-Satine?" The young man asked and his friends all began to laugh at him, she blushed bright red, pushed a curl from her face and shook her head. "No, no, I do not work here. I was wondering if any of you could escort me to the ladies room? I've never been here before. . . My husband doesn't know this place any better than I. . ." She saw them poking fun at the young man still. "It's quite all right monsieur, I can see why you would think that." She gently squeezed his shoulder.

He smiled softly, still embarrassed and an Argintinean man stood. "I will take you, Mme, come with me."

"Thank you." She lent him her hand and muttered to Raoul about being right back. The man led her to the room and nodded when she thanked him again. She was surprised to find him waiting to escort her back, smiled and took his hand again, he explained. "It's quite crowded now, Satine came out and is almost done with her number, she danced with the man that thought you were her."

She nodded, followed him out and felt her pulse double when they witnessed Satine fall from the trapeze into a mysterious cloaked figures arms, he took her backstage with Marie, and she frowned, bit her lip and returned to Raoul. "Guess I missed a lot, hmm?"

"M Zidler is clapping, I suppose it was part of the show." They both looked puzzled, but clapped anyway. Once the next dance number ended Raoul stood. "Are we leaving?" She asked hopefully.

"No,no,no, I have a business meeting to attend with Zidler and Satine, perhaps you can meet up with some of your friends until then?" Before she could reply he bent and kissed her forehead, then went off to meet Zidler, she sighed, looked around the theater..

"I don't have any friends here."

Backstage, before and during the previous couple moments

Erik carried Satine and placed her on a chaise, Marie woke her with some smelling salts, and the beauty coughed a few times, inhaled deeply. "Oh Marie," she laughed softly. "Oh these silly costumes!" She tried to lighten the mood, saw the seriousness in Erik's one visible side.

"Just a little fainting spell." Marie said with a gentle smile, let the red head cough into a hankie, caught site of the little blood Satine did not see.

"Erik," she murmured, he was still speechless from seeing the blood, he knew deep down what was wrong. "Erik she's here, Christine is here."

"I know." He said softly, his one good eye twinkled at her with amusement. "Stealing the show, are you?"

"As always." She said softly. "Oh Erik, you must go to her, she's going to need you tonight with . . . You know. She has feelings for you Erik, I can see it, I saw it in her eyes today."

"Christine may have feelings for me, but they are only of friendship."

"Oh, no," she smiled softly, her eyes met his. "No they run much deeper than that, you have her, Erik, she needs but to realize that. You strike her soul so profoundly that it frightens her, I see it, I see it because it once lay in me." She coughed more softly and stood. "I best change for the Vicomte, she's probably sitting all by herself back there, Erik. Do not leave her to be alone while her husband betrays her."

She went behind the screen and he thought for a moment, his sculpted face expressed his curiousness, then he smiled, perhaps it was time for him to come out of hiding. He moved to leave the dressing room when Satine called. "Oh, and Erik?"

He turned to her, saw her face peeping out from the top of the screen. "Yes, Satine?"

"She doesn't know about what Raoul is really doing, keep it that way, hmm? She'll start out hysterical enough."

He grinned all the more, nodded gently and left the room, made his way through the back and went to the floor entrance, watched her as she sat sadly in the box Raoul had left her in, playing with her fingers, still so sweet, beautiful and so innocent. Oh, how he loved her, and how often he dreamt of their kiss. Satine must be right, she must only be afraid and if he could work past that, she would be his. He smiled softly, stepped carefully onto the floor and waited for her to look up, when she did and gasped, the soft smile turned into a devilish grin.

AN: PLEASE review! I need your ideas, your input and I wouldn't mind some help with my grammar and spelling, any other errors I make, etc.