Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, nor do I own any of the original characters of the film. (I wish I owned Christian, but we don't need to go into that right now)

Claimer: Although the original movie, Moulin Rouge, is not mine, this story is as are the original characters. . Hee hee Yeah.

Renaissance

Chapter One: An Approved Return

And now I write, subjected to my own constant fear of what was horrifically called death. Shadowed in this world of sin and chaos, I have accepted the reality that I am alone. Now, without my lovely Satine, daughter and diamond of the fathomless night, I am but a solitary man once more. Accomplished with a single novel of that historic love I once possessed, my artistic fashion is dying. I have agreed to return to my home, to the apartment that I never should have left. But if I hadn't taken that sorrowful journey, then I never would've found love. Then again, I never would've lost it either.

"Ah, Christian. Now that you have regained your proper sensibility, perhaps now you will be able to make something of your life," father proclaimed. He was pleased with my return, but still angered with my leave. However, I hold nothing against him. A man of his dignity and stature could never see what I had once seen.

My mother, once a homely, plain woman was transformed into daylight, but yet a shadow in my eyes. Hair curled and primed, she brings back memories of the Moulin Rouge and it's "Diamond Dogs". Lashes curled and body adequately thin, I barely recognized her as a came in the door to my childhood home, let alone the young girl that trailed behind her flowing silks.

"Christian, such a relief to see you home once again!" my mother wailed, raising her hands in a womanly way that only she could sustain. I obliged and took her hand to my lips as if she were a stranger, but wasn't that who she was now? My heart grew bitter as she blinked fluidly, gracing her face with a traditional smile.

"It is a shame, however, that you have come back at such a mournful time. You sister, Charlotte, passed away some days ago."

At this I was frozen, taken aback by some windless account of sincere perplexity. "Passed away?" I choked, failing in my attempt to remain serene. My eyes caught the stare of the young woman and she quickly glanced to the carpeted floor of my mother's highly decorated room. There was a reply, but it was not heard and no longer did it matter. The girl She reminded me of someone so particular.

"Christian!"

I snapped out of my zealous daze and shook my head, eyes resting on my mother's face once more, leaving the girl out of my mind. Her brows arched high in a surprised glare and I couldn't help but grin, recalling that this was the only act that I could recognize.

"Charlotte's husband has disappeared and I recall that it was you that allowed yourself to become godfather of their child," she scolded. I nodded, the recollection playing inside my fatigued mind. I felt drained and indecisive. Why did we have to discuss it then?

"Christian, this is your niece, Felicity," my mother said.

Why I was shocked, I have no idea. Of course I had to be expecting this, but now confronted with the situation I was stunned. I looked over at the girl, shaken out my mind, at the same time bewildered. "My niece?" I repeated afterwards, though I did not hear my mother's sigh of disapproval. This girl was my goddaughter and therefore she was now my own responsibility.

"I'm sorry, mother, but I'm afraid I have no money to care for this girl," I protested as apologetically as I could muster. Of course, like always, Sarra had all the answers. She always had all the answers.

"We will supply the money for her, Christian, since she is our granddaughter, but you will have to do the rest on your own. We will give you a much money as you need to get started on your little job that Jonathan has prepared for you to handle and then you will be on your own. I pray to God that you will not take money out of Felicity's account for your own sake. I would be deeply mortified."

I did not question further, for fear of having my parents believe me cowardly and unprepared to live my life through. All of this in one full day? My arrival home was not how I had expected, but there was nothing I could do. After all, I had accepted Felicity as my godchild years before now. I glanced in her direction, eyes averted upon her by some magnificent gravitation. I was perplexed, deeply concerned by this silent girl.

"Now, Jonathan has arranged a supper and you shall attend, won't you, Christian?" Sarra confirmed. With a nod of my head, I shadowed myself into the same quiescence Felicity seemed to acquire. My mother, knowing that my answer would be an affirmative, made her way out of her gloriously ornamented chamber. Slowly she dispersed from sight, leaving our silence unattended.

"Hello," Felicity commented.

Shocked by this new voice, I was stunned to find it oddly familiar. However, I took this into priority and approached her in a casual manner. She was shorter than I by full head and shoulders, but she was quite a woman. Her eyes were that of a soft lavender that seemed to fade from sapphire blue. Surreal in reality, this struck me as odd, though I said nothing.

She shifted uncomfortably under my stare, gaze drifting to the side, resting on the angry flames of the fireplace. Auburn waves of beautiful temptation ran down her back, curled delicately and precisely. Obviously this was not natural, for my mother had had a similar hairstyle that same day.

I heard her swallow hard in the back of her throat and I stepped back, taken off guard by a new thought. Multicolored oculars swayed fluidly to watch me, but I could see the fear behind those periwinkle eyes.

"They said you might be like this when you got back," she said solemnly. "I was hoping that you wouldn't" She cut herself off and turned slightly, so as not to look at me.

However, I needed not to have her finish her sentence. "The Moulin Rouge has not affected me in such a manner, Felicity. You don't have to worry," I told her. I was pleased to see her relax, as if the world had been taken from her shoulders.

"Thank you, Monsieur," she said, but a shook my head with a smile.

"Christian. Christian is fine," I corrected.

A/N: There's the first chapter ,my little Moulin Rouge fanatics! ^_~ How'd ya like it? Huh huh? What do ya think? Any suggestions? Flames are discouraged, but accepted with pain LOL Just joshin' ya. Flame all ya want! I dun care! ^_~ (Just please be honest.)