**Author's note** No, I do not own anything even associated with Moulin Rouge in the slightest way, though I wish I did! ^_^ Then I would be able to live off more than just cornbread and rice. = ) I mixed some French in here just for fun, translations are at the bottom. If anything is wrong, please let me know! Reviews are much appreciated. Thank you very much, or in French, Merci Beaucoups!
Satine opened her eyes to harsh, uncomfortably bright sunlight. *I'm alive.* She immediately sat up and stared around at her surroundings. She was lying on a bed with soft white lacy sheets, next to a window with matching curtains. Also inside the room was an attractive wood dresser and nightstand. Though the room was decorated tastefully, it had a cold, almost impersonal feel. But the first thing that went through her mind was *this is not Christian's garret.* Staring outside the window, she saw that the view was of a tranquil city road, not the bright scene of the Moulin Rouge. *So where am I?* Her question was answered almost immediately by the soft sigh of the door as it was opened.
"Awake my sweet?" said the duke walking into the room, his pinched, mousy face showing a different emotion than his syrupy words. Satine's face drained of any color that was left in it, but quickly recovered and smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes.
"My dear duke." She answered, straining to keep the anger out of her voice. She quickly switched to her "Sparkling Diamond" persona as she added, "would you please tell me exactly where I am, and how I have come to be here?"
"Well my dear, " said the duke, his voice littered with fake concern, " after you fell unconscious onstage, I had it ordered that you were brought to me once you were taken from that," here his words faltered as he finished in a strangled voice, "writer. So, because of your frail health, I brought you to my own home in Paris where you have been for two days." *Because of my frail health*. Satine thought bitterly. *And also the small fact that you own me will do whatever it takes to keep me from Christian.* Throughout this, she managed to keep the smile pasted on her face, though it grew thinner and thinner. *But my smile still stays on*. She thought, with another unhappy inner laugh.
"Why thank you for your generosity and concern, dear duke. But it seems that I am still weary, so if you would be so kind as to leave me so I can rest..." she trailed off. The duke nodded and smiled, but she could see through his façade. The duke, no matter how many false laughs and smiles he put on, was still madly jealous. And still meant to have Christian killed. He left the room and closed the door roughly and loudly behind him, portraying his true emotions. Satine collapsed back into her cushions. She hadn't been completely lying; she was still very tired. But the future was laid out in front of her all too clearly: the duke meant to keep her here with him as his prisoner. Forever. She suspected that the only reason he had not locked the door behind him was because he believed her too weak to get out of bed. Well, he had once again underestimated her and she and Christians' love. Satine rose and walked over to the dresser and idly opened one of the drawers, wondering if
the duke had thought ahead enough to bring any of her clothes. Surprised, she lifted out one of her dresses, a royal blue and white silk. Opening the other drawers, she found more dresses, her jewelry boxes, and lingerie. Spotting a closet in the right corner of the room, Satine pulled open the doors to reveal yet more clothes. It seemed that the duke had brought practically her whole wardrobe. Conveniently, in the corner of the closet, was a small suitcase, probably placed there thoughtlessly by the same maid that unfolded all of Satine's clothes. Satine smiled indulgently. This was almost too easy. She would leave tonight and pay for a carriage to Montmarte by pawning some of her jewelry. Then she would go back to the Moulin Rouge and find Christian, and go away together. Away from the duke, away from the Moulin Rouge, away from her past. Satine crawled back into bed, taking careful pains to make it look like she hadn't disturbed anything in the room. She closed her eyes
and rested until the thick blanket of night was pulled over the sky.
****
The pinpricks of stars and the golden orb of the moon lit Satine's bedroom with a filtered, soft, almost white light. She got up, the adrenaline in her body eliminating all signs of sleepiness. Moving quickly and calculatedly quiet, Satine got dressed in the blue and white dress she had pulled out earlier and twisted her fiery hair into a bun, which she hid under a wide brimmed white hat. Pulling on cashmere gloves, she realized with dismay that she had no jacket to ward of the cold. "Oh well," she sighed. She carefully packed away all the clothes the suitcase could hold and put on all the jewelry she thought would buy a carriage under her high-necked dress and put the rest in the suitcase. She breathed deeply to quell her nervousness, and whispered almost inaudibly, "Come what may." Then, grabbing the suitcase, she peered out of the window, looking to see if anyone was walking the streets at this late hour. As she had suspected, nobody was. Fortunately, her window was on
the first floor, and she carefully lifted the latch, biting her lip in concentration as she tried not to make a sound. The window opened, thankfully soundless, and Satine climbed out, uncharacteristically ungraceful, because she was hindered by the length of her dress. She stared up at the house, and realizing she had been holding her breath, exhaled, the puff of breath fogging out in white tendrils from the cold September air. The house was completely silent. Satine walked away, careful to keep in the inky shadows. All she had to do was get out onto the nearest non- residential road and call for a carriage. Satine continued on two blocks to the right when she spotted a small carriage sitting on the side of the street. " Bonjour, monsieur, (1)" she said, walking up to the driver, who was bundled up warmly. "I need a ride to the nearest pawn shop and then to Montmarte, S'il vous plait. (2)" The driver stared at her.
"Montmarte? Are you sure mademoiselle?" Satine nodded. "Tres bien,(3) please climb in." said the driver, still bewildered. Satine obeyed, and the driver clucked to the horse and slapped the reins as the horse whinnied softly and set out at a gentle trot. The carriage was rolling along quietly for about 10 minutes when Satine asked,
"Pardon monsieur?"
"Oui? (3)" said the driver, turning to face the side of the carriage.
"Quelle heure est ile?(4)" asked Satine.
"Il est minuit.(5)" Answered the driver. Satine nodded and sat back. Good. It was midnight and it didn't look like anyone was following her or had even realized she was gone. But in the morning they most certainly would, she thought with a sigh. When she got to Montmarte, Christian would most likely be sleeping. Her thoughts drifted back to the times she had shared with Christian at the Moulin Rouge and how happy she had been then. Poor Christian! He thought she was dead... Satine's trickle of thoughts slowly turned into quiet, almost lazy dreams. Suddenly, the carriage drifted slowly to a stop at the sign that read "Montmarte".
"Pardon, madam." Said the driver. Satine jerked awake. "We have arrived." Satine stared at the sign in a sleepy incomprehensibility before exclaiming,
" Non(6) monsieur, you were supposed to take me to the pawn shop first." She accused. The driver smiled.
"This ride was free of charge, madam." Satine looked at him suspiciously at first as she got out of the carriage, and then gave the driver a genuine radiant smile.
"Merci beaucoups monsieur. That was very kind."
"De rein.(7) Bonsoir (8) mademoiselle." Said the driver as he guided the horse away.
"Adieu.(9)" Said Satine to the driver's back as he drove away, but he probably didn't hear. Satine smiled happily. Maybe luck was starting to turn her way. She walked through the familiar streets of Montmarte, busiest at this hour. Prostitutes lined the streets, dressed in their most revealing clothes despite the weather, their eyes caked in heavy makeup, trying to beckon potential customers. Bohemians, giggling as they drank glass after glass of Absinthe talked loudly to one another. Then, the Moulin Rouge came into site, the glittering red mill illuminating the light sky around it, and the huge elephant standing bright and empty without her. Taking a breath, she saw the garret where Christian lived directly across from the Moulin Rouge. She walked up to the building and went inside, climbing the rickety staircase up to his room. She paused at his door, unmarked except for the peeling paint, before almost hesitantly turning the doorknob and going inside. Christian lay on
his bed, turned towards Satine, his face lined heavily with grief even in his sleep. He slept fitfully, not even bothering to cover himself with a blanket. It didn't seem like he had even changed clothes since the opening night of Spectacular Spectacular. She walked over to him, gently smoothing his hair away from his forehead. Her hear broke to see him like that. She kneeled down by the side of his bed and touched his shoulder, about to shake him awake. But he had already opened his eyes sleepily, and she saw that they were red from crying. Sleepiness turned to surprise, and then to hopeful disbelief.
"Satine?" he asked hoarsely, not able to believe it was true. He sat up and molded his hand around her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, so unlike the coldness when he had held her last. "Oh my God." He whispered.
"It's really me, Christian. I'm all right." Christian gasped, pressing kisses all over her face, more to try to convince himself that it was really her.
"Oh my God Satine." He said, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. "I thought...I thought you were dead." She sat on the bed next to him, resting her head against his chest. He tightened his arms around her almost fiercely, smelling the scent that was uniquely Satine. She told him what happened, all about the duke, and that they had to get away, had to get away now.
"But Christian...where will we go?" she asked, tilting her head so she looked into his eyes. He smiled reassuringly.
"I don't care. I don't care Satine. We have each other now - that's all that matters."
**Author's note** Hey, hope you liked it! PLEASE REVIEW! Chapter Two will be up soon! ^_^
French words:
(1) Hello Sir
(2) please
(3) yes
(4) What time is it?
(5) It's midnight
(6) no
(7) you're welcome
(8) good evening
(9) goodbye
Satine opened her eyes to harsh, uncomfortably bright sunlight. *I'm alive.* She immediately sat up and stared around at her surroundings. She was lying on a bed with soft white lacy sheets, next to a window with matching curtains. Also inside the room was an attractive wood dresser and nightstand. Though the room was decorated tastefully, it had a cold, almost impersonal feel. But the first thing that went through her mind was *this is not Christian's garret.* Staring outside the window, she saw that the view was of a tranquil city road, not the bright scene of the Moulin Rouge. *So where am I?* Her question was answered almost immediately by the soft sigh of the door as it was opened.
"Awake my sweet?" said the duke walking into the room, his pinched, mousy face showing a different emotion than his syrupy words. Satine's face drained of any color that was left in it, but quickly recovered and smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes.
"My dear duke." She answered, straining to keep the anger out of her voice. She quickly switched to her "Sparkling Diamond" persona as she added, "would you please tell me exactly where I am, and how I have come to be here?"
"Well my dear, " said the duke, his voice littered with fake concern, " after you fell unconscious onstage, I had it ordered that you were brought to me once you were taken from that," here his words faltered as he finished in a strangled voice, "writer. So, because of your frail health, I brought you to my own home in Paris where you have been for two days." *Because of my frail health*. Satine thought bitterly. *And also the small fact that you own me will do whatever it takes to keep me from Christian.* Throughout this, she managed to keep the smile pasted on her face, though it grew thinner and thinner. *But my smile still stays on*. She thought, with another unhappy inner laugh.
"Why thank you for your generosity and concern, dear duke. But it seems that I am still weary, so if you would be so kind as to leave me so I can rest..." she trailed off. The duke nodded and smiled, but she could see through his façade. The duke, no matter how many false laughs and smiles he put on, was still madly jealous. And still meant to have Christian killed. He left the room and closed the door roughly and loudly behind him, portraying his true emotions. Satine collapsed back into her cushions. She hadn't been completely lying; she was still very tired. But the future was laid out in front of her all too clearly: the duke meant to keep her here with him as his prisoner. Forever. She suspected that the only reason he had not locked the door behind him was because he believed her too weak to get out of bed. Well, he had once again underestimated her and she and Christians' love. Satine rose and walked over to the dresser and idly opened one of the drawers, wondering if
the duke had thought ahead enough to bring any of her clothes. Surprised, she lifted out one of her dresses, a royal blue and white silk. Opening the other drawers, she found more dresses, her jewelry boxes, and lingerie. Spotting a closet in the right corner of the room, Satine pulled open the doors to reveal yet more clothes. It seemed that the duke had brought practically her whole wardrobe. Conveniently, in the corner of the closet, was a small suitcase, probably placed there thoughtlessly by the same maid that unfolded all of Satine's clothes. Satine smiled indulgently. This was almost too easy. She would leave tonight and pay for a carriage to Montmarte by pawning some of her jewelry. Then she would go back to the Moulin Rouge and find Christian, and go away together. Away from the duke, away from the Moulin Rouge, away from her past. Satine crawled back into bed, taking careful pains to make it look like she hadn't disturbed anything in the room. She closed her eyes
and rested until the thick blanket of night was pulled over the sky.
****
The pinpricks of stars and the golden orb of the moon lit Satine's bedroom with a filtered, soft, almost white light. She got up, the adrenaline in her body eliminating all signs of sleepiness. Moving quickly and calculatedly quiet, Satine got dressed in the blue and white dress she had pulled out earlier and twisted her fiery hair into a bun, which she hid under a wide brimmed white hat. Pulling on cashmere gloves, she realized with dismay that she had no jacket to ward of the cold. "Oh well," she sighed. She carefully packed away all the clothes the suitcase could hold and put on all the jewelry she thought would buy a carriage under her high-necked dress and put the rest in the suitcase. She breathed deeply to quell her nervousness, and whispered almost inaudibly, "Come what may." Then, grabbing the suitcase, she peered out of the window, looking to see if anyone was walking the streets at this late hour. As she had suspected, nobody was. Fortunately, her window was on
the first floor, and she carefully lifted the latch, biting her lip in concentration as she tried not to make a sound. The window opened, thankfully soundless, and Satine climbed out, uncharacteristically ungraceful, because she was hindered by the length of her dress. She stared up at the house, and realizing she had been holding her breath, exhaled, the puff of breath fogging out in white tendrils from the cold September air. The house was completely silent. Satine walked away, careful to keep in the inky shadows. All she had to do was get out onto the nearest non- residential road and call for a carriage. Satine continued on two blocks to the right when she spotted a small carriage sitting on the side of the street. " Bonjour, monsieur, (1)" she said, walking up to the driver, who was bundled up warmly. "I need a ride to the nearest pawn shop and then to Montmarte, S'il vous plait. (2)" The driver stared at her.
"Montmarte? Are you sure mademoiselle?" Satine nodded. "Tres bien,(3) please climb in." said the driver, still bewildered. Satine obeyed, and the driver clucked to the horse and slapped the reins as the horse whinnied softly and set out at a gentle trot. The carriage was rolling along quietly for about 10 minutes when Satine asked,
"Pardon monsieur?"
"Oui? (3)" said the driver, turning to face the side of the carriage.
"Quelle heure est ile?(4)" asked Satine.
"Il est minuit.(5)" Answered the driver. Satine nodded and sat back. Good. It was midnight and it didn't look like anyone was following her or had even realized she was gone. But in the morning they most certainly would, she thought with a sigh. When she got to Montmarte, Christian would most likely be sleeping. Her thoughts drifted back to the times she had shared with Christian at the Moulin Rouge and how happy she had been then. Poor Christian! He thought she was dead... Satine's trickle of thoughts slowly turned into quiet, almost lazy dreams. Suddenly, the carriage drifted slowly to a stop at the sign that read "Montmarte".
"Pardon, madam." Said the driver. Satine jerked awake. "We have arrived." Satine stared at the sign in a sleepy incomprehensibility before exclaiming,
" Non(6) monsieur, you were supposed to take me to the pawn shop first." She accused. The driver smiled.
"This ride was free of charge, madam." Satine looked at him suspiciously at first as she got out of the carriage, and then gave the driver a genuine radiant smile.
"Merci beaucoups monsieur. That was very kind."
"De rein.(7) Bonsoir (8) mademoiselle." Said the driver as he guided the horse away.
"Adieu.(9)" Said Satine to the driver's back as he drove away, but he probably didn't hear. Satine smiled happily. Maybe luck was starting to turn her way. She walked through the familiar streets of Montmarte, busiest at this hour. Prostitutes lined the streets, dressed in their most revealing clothes despite the weather, their eyes caked in heavy makeup, trying to beckon potential customers. Bohemians, giggling as they drank glass after glass of Absinthe talked loudly to one another. Then, the Moulin Rouge came into site, the glittering red mill illuminating the light sky around it, and the huge elephant standing bright and empty without her. Taking a breath, she saw the garret where Christian lived directly across from the Moulin Rouge. She walked up to the building and went inside, climbing the rickety staircase up to his room. She paused at his door, unmarked except for the peeling paint, before almost hesitantly turning the doorknob and going inside. Christian lay on
his bed, turned towards Satine, his face lined heavily with grief even in his sleep. He slept fitfully, not even bothering to cover himself with a blanket. It didn't seem like he had even changed clothes since the opening night of Spectacular Spectacular. She walked over to him, gently smoothing his hair away from his forehead. Her hear broke to see him like that. She kneeled down by the side of his bed and touched his shoulder, about to shake him awake. But he had already opened his eyes sleepily, and she saw that they were red from crying. Sleepiness turned to surprise, and then to hopeful disbelief.
"Satine?" he asked hoarsely, not able to believe it was true. He sat up and molded his hand around her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, so unlike the coldness when he had held her last. "Oh my God." He whispered.
"It's really me, Christian. I'm all right." Christian gasped, pressing kisses all over her face, more to try to convince himself that it was really her.
"Oh my God Satine." He said, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. "I thought...I thought you were dead." She sat on the bed next to him, resting her head against his chest. He tightened his arms around her almost fiercely, smelling the scent that was uniquely Satine. She told him what happened, all about the duke, and that they had to get away, had to get away now.
"But Christian...where will we go?" she asked, tilting her head so she looked into his eyes. He smiled reassuringly.
"I don't care. I don't care Satine. We have each other now - that's all that matters."
**Author's note** Hey, hope you liked it! PLEASE REVIEW! Chapter Two will be up soon! ^_^
French words:
(1) Hello Sir
(2) please
(3) yes
(4) What time is it?
(5) It's midnight
(6) no
(7) you're welcome
(8) good evening
(9) goodbye