DISCLAIMER: Moulin Rouge fanfic
DISCLAIMER: Moulin Rouge
fanfic. All are owned by Baz Luhrmann, Fox, etc. :D just DON'T
sue!!! :P -It's not like you're gonna get anything
out of it anywayI can't work, I don't make money.
The end.
SUMMARY: It's 2 years
after Satine's death, and a stranger appears one night at
the Moulin Rouge to see the newest show – who bares a
remarkable resemblance to Satine.
CATEGORY: Romance
RELATIONSHIPS: Unknown at
this point
SPOILERS: Well, yes.
Considering that the part about Satine's "death"
semi-spoils the moviebut the rest won't because I
haven't seen it yet!
CHARACTERS: Christian,
Chantal, and the rest of the cast
RATING: PG-13for nowit
gets decidedly more graphic later thoughpushing into R
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oithis
part is sosappy. I don't like it. GrrNote: title
IS in French, it means Broken Promises. ARGH. screw that
formatting at the bottom, it's driving me up the wall...grrrrrrrrrrr.......x.x....o.o....
Les Promets Cassé, by Misako
Chapter Two – Revelations
MOMENTS
If I die tonight, I'd go with no regrets
If it's in your arms, I know that I was blessed
And if your eyes are the last thing that I see
Then I know the beauty heaven holds for me.
-Westlife
Chantal laughed as Christian
arrested her from behind, tickling her mercilessly.
"How did you figure out that
I was so ticklish anyway?" She asked in between fits of
laughter.
"I didn't. I just
guessed." Christian replied, slightly winded from attempting
to keep Chantal from getting away.
"Oh, lovely. Now you know. Am
I to be subjected to this torture every day of the rest of my
life?" Chantal shot back, squirming and finally managing to
break Christian's hold.
"How could you? You'd be
old, I'd be old, too old to tickle you, mind you, and you'd,"
Christian paused as he backed up against the wall as Chantal
advanced toward him. "Be married!"
Chantal stopped, and sighed
exasperatedly. "I thought you said you weren't going to
mention that."
"Oh. Sorry." Christian
smiled pacifyingly.
"Why didn't you?"
Chantal asked quietly. "Tell yours and Satine's story,
I mean."
Christian flopped back upon the
bed in his room in Chambres a la Journee, across from the Moulin
Rouge. "Because, I couldn't go through that pain again,
to see it told over and over again. And I did write it. Shortly
after she died. But I burnt it. I couldn't bear seeing it
everyday."
Chantal sat down on the bed, the
mattress barely moving under her weight. She lifted a hand and
brushed a strand of Christian's dark brown hair away from
where it had fallen on his forehead. "But then, it would
seem that you didn't grant her last request."
"I know, I know."
Christian sighed, closing his eyes.
Chantal lay down beside him and
stared at the ceiling, where she could still see the faint cracks
from it's last mending, when the narcoleptic Argentinean had
fallen through a couple years back.
"You should you know,"
Chantal stated simply, pursing her lips a bit. "Sometimes it's
better to tell, than to keep locked away. To you, it will hurt,
but eventually, the hurt will go away. It is always worse to keep
everything bottled up inside."
Christian sat up and pushed
himself off the bed before walking over to the balcony. He ran a
hand through his hair as he looked up into the periwinkle blue
sky. "Maybe. I'm not sure."
Sighing, Chantal rolled off the
bed and walked over to him. "Christian, just listen to me.
You'll feel better. I promise." Standing in front of
him, she was as tall as he was, and she found herself staring
into his eyes. She wrenched her gaze away after a moment, staring
at the red windmill across the way.
She felt Christian's light
touch upon her arm, through the thin, shimmering green shift she
had on. She turned to look at him, and he gave her a smile, and
she suddenly felt the light touch of his lips on her cheek, and a
whispered, "Thank you."
And he was gone, back into the
room, to re-write his and Satine's story. Chantal gazed up
at the night sky, her cheek still tingling from his nearly
imperceptible kiss.
*******
As the sun rose above the horizon
the next morning, blanketing the Moulin Rouge in a shimmering
blanket of sunlight, Christian and Chantal had met at the Moulin
Rouge to continue working on their new show. Aptly titled "Ce
soir", it was a small show about what each night held for
lovers. They had only begun rehearsing it, but the movements and
ideas flowed from them like a river into the ocean. Chantal was
learning the ropes quickly, her previous experience with dancing,
which she had done as a small child, allowed her to have some
indication of where people should belong. She had arranged for
her essential items to be brought to Montmartre, and had occupied
the room next to Christian's in Chambres a la Journee.
Chantal commanded much respect from the dancers, especially
Chocolat, who had been highly protective of Satine when she had
been alive and now was protective of Chantal as well. Many of the
can-can dancers were still haunted by similarities in her
physical and outward attitude to Satine, even though it had
already been three weeks since her arrival.
"No. You should have more
passion!" Chantal called to a dancer, who nodded and redid
the sequence, and this time, doing it perfectly. "I think
this is going fairly well." She whispered to Christian,
watching as his keen eyes followed the movements of the dancers.
"Yes, it seems so."
Christian murmured.
The door was flung open then, and
a bright shaft of sunlight spilled into the building. Chantal
turned around, shielding her gaze from the sun. When she saw the
figure illuminated in the doorway, he eyes opened wide.
"Nicholas?"
"Lord Worchester."
Christian's voice was tinged with surprise, his hands
unconsciously moving to straighten his shirt.
"Chantal," Nicholas
Worchester said, striding in. His tall frame was silhouetted in
the doorway, but she could still make out his features. Handsome,
with brown hair and golden brown eyes, he was today, and always,
dressed impeccably. Chantal lowered her gaze to the floor, trying
not to look displeased that he had arrived. When he stopped in
front of her, he cupped a hand under her chin and gently tilted
her face upwards so that she was gazing at him. "I've
missed you." He stated simply before capturing her lips in a
deep kiss. Chantal noticed out of the corner of her eye, that
Christian flinched. She gently disengaged from Nicholas's
kiss, and gave him a forced smile.
"Christian, may I speak with
you for a moment?" Chantal did not wait for Christian to
reply, and instead took his arm and led him upstairs.
Christian raised an inquisitive
eyebrow at her as they emerged on the rooftop, his eyes taking on
more of an emerald hue in the sunlight that created golden
accents in her auburn hair. "I thought you said he only buys
you expensive gifts."
Chantal sighed. "He usually
only does," She wrung her hands for a moment, her cerulean
eyes glazing over lightly with thought and a sliver of a wrinkle
appeared on her brow. "He's never kissed me before."
Christian appeared puzzled and surprised.
"It's usually only on
the cheek, and never the lips. And never with that much fervor."
"Oh."
"Oh Christian, you're a
member of the male gender, help me!" Chantal pleaded with
Christian, placing her hands on his shoulders.
"With what?" Christian
asked, perplexed.
"You can tell me why he's
acting like this."
"Perhaps you should ask him.
I can't answer for him, you know." Christian reminded
her coaxingly, gently detaching her hands from his shoulders.
Chantal's shoulders slumped
slightly. "Sorry."
Christian smiled at her. "Don't
worry," he kissed her on the forehead before walking over to
the doorway. "I'll send him up." And, not waiting
for her answer, disappeared down the stairs. Only a moment later,
the Lord appeared in the doorway.
"Sorry for startling you."
He apologized, his russet hair gleaming in the sun.
"It's alright,"
Chantal said slowly, inhaling the cool morning air.
Silence fell between them like a
heavy black shroud. Chantal gazed toward the dim shapes of the
buildings at the center of Paris.
Nicholas broke the silence first.
"Chantal, I," he paused for a moment, the sincere look
on his face disquieting Chantal slightly. "I truly love you.
I'm sorry I haven't said so sooner, and I'm sorry
that I haven't spent much time with you." He began
pacing in a tight circle in front of her. Chantal made a move to
speak, but he stopped her with a slight shake of his head. He
continued, "I'm just sorry for everything. I just
– never knew how to express my love – until now."
Chantal was taken aback. "You
truly love me?" she whispered, the words carrying over to
him on a soft morning breeze.
"I do," Nicholas said,
the golden flecks in his eyes more prominent in the sunlight.
"I know you've been spending a lot of time here, your
maid told me, and if you want, after we leave, you could come
back and visit."
"Leave?" Chantal
repeated faintly.
"Yes. I'd like for you
to return to London with me."
LPC3 - Will Chantal return
to London with her reformed fiancé? Or will she stay at the
Moulin Rouge with Christian? What will Christian's reaction
be to all the news? Chantal's decision hinges on one thingLOVE.
And you'll have to see, who she chooses)
A.N. and Thank Yous:
Bwah ha haI think writing
this at 1 o clock in the morning wasn't too wise*sigh*
I'm sorry if this isn't too up to par as the last one,
I guarantee you'll enjoy the next chapter
Thank you's to:
First and foremost:
Trey: You are so demanding!
:) I tried to get this out as fast as I couldand besides, I
hope you enjoy it. Care for a cameo as a dancer? :) BTW, You WILL
be cameo'd next Chapter as Treythe man whore. :)
Liz-Enjoy your vacation, or
you'll never get Christian back. ;) Want a cameo? You will
be, as China Doll
Kate-I'm NEVER leaving
you and Trey alone together. Look what you guys do! You guys go
around whispering into people's subconscious! That is VERY
bad. VERY naughty. :)
Plu- [hugs] I hope you're
having fun modding the Roswell board. *wink*
Rhysenn- Rest. And I'm
highly anticipating that H/D fanfic of yours...and IP9:)
And all the rest of you that were
lamenting over the lack of Moulin Rouge fanfictions on FFN. Here's
something for ya! ;)
All my Moulin Rouge Whores at
fanforum:
karabehr
BarelyPink
LimeWarp
Cora
Trey, the Moulin Rouge Man
Whore
noah blue
bistyboo1974
misery chic
Behrdogz
kookio
Maria G
AussieFehrFan
RebeccaSHF
katscar
KervyQT16
izzylizard
AngelGirl
ANGELforBUFFY
And, our Honorary Diamond Dog: SmittenMitten
Thank you to all that reviewed on
Fanfiction.net:
Cat (It could go a few
ways!), Angie (Thank you. :P), SugarPrincess
(Here's more!), Burning_Tyger (Nothing is
as it seems), mollyemo (I couldn't not write,
with people like Trey whispering into my subconscious when I'm
sleeping)), Lady Navachi (Thank you
for your kind review!), The Beanster (I'm
glad you'll be following it!), karen (thank
you. Here's the next chapter!), izzy (Thank
you so much for the review! :))
And to the most fabulous people on
the screen: Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman for making this all
possible. For bring love like Christian and Satine's to the
bright light of the silver screen.
And a VERY GREATFUL thank you to
Christian, who has been my muse all this time. :)
