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 anyway…I can't work, I don't make money. The end. Jim Brickman, Windham Hill, et al own lyrics to "Destiny". All characters are owned by the aforementioned, except for Chantal, Nicholas, who are my own, and Trey, who is owned by, well, Trey. :) China Doll is owned by Liz, because she is her. :)
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: I believe it should obvious, but don't expect anything. This is definitely NOT a typical "I loved someone, but they died, so I'll just fall in love with anyone and I'll be happy" fic.
SPOILERS: Well, yes. Satine's death…some other aspects as well.
CHARACTERS: Christian, Chantal, and the rest of the cast
RATING: PG-13…for now…becomes R because of possible…well, if I said any more, I'd be spilling the end, which I DEFINITELY am keeping under wraps. :)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, I've decided on the ending for LPC…ooh, it's going to be FUN doing that…it's definitely NOT predictable, and not your usual happy-go-lucky stuff. Nope. Not really a sappy person…not me, at least. Well, I am a sucker for romantic stuff, but that's just me. :) Note: title IS in French, it means Broken Promises.
Les Promets Cassé, by Misako
Chapter Four – Crossed Paths, Runaway Star
I wanted someone like you
Someone that I could hold on to
And give my love until the end of time
But forever was just a word
Something I'd only heard about
But now you're always there for me
When you say forever I believe
Jim Brickman, Destiny
Chantal wearily walked off the boat and back onto solid ground as she arrived in London. Pausing to wait for Nicholas, she kept going over why she had even left Paris.
I don't feel ready for this. And I always promised myself I'd marry a man whom I loved. She contemplated. But he's back at the Moulin Rouge. The memory of her discovery that Christian didn't love her the way she loved him was firmly imprinted in her memory.
"Chantal!" She heard Nicholas call, and she snapped out of her reverie as he approached with two young boys carrying their luggage. He gave her a quick kiss as he began leading the way to their waiting car. Chantal cringed after his back was turned. His affectionate behavior was too fake, too insincere. But Christian, even the slightest gestures were truthful, and not excessive. Just the brush of Christian's arm against her own was enough to make her heart jump and shivers to climb up her spine. She vaguely heard Nicholas announce "here we are! Alright, you can put those on the roof". Her brain barely registered the two blurs that flashed before her eyes as the two boys scurried away. Wind started to blow and whipped her auburn hair about and blowing past her lavender lace skirts. She narrowed her blue-green eyes to attempt to keep any particles from entering and aggravating the delicate membranes. Quickly, she climbed into the waiting car, ignoring Nicholas's offered hand.
"Well, I suppose we'll have to postpone," Nicholas grumbled, running a hand through his golden brown hair. He stared out the window at the darkening sky, which was rapidly being filled with dark, ominous clouds that had begun to drift in. It was almost guaranteed in London that it would rain any moment. Nicholas sighed, and continued "I had hoped we could get married today."
"Outdoors?" Chantal asked, turning her head only slightly to look at his profile.
"It was originally scheduled for an outdoors reception and everything, but we can go inside if you prefer that." Nicholas turned, and placed a hand over the hand that she had rested on the seat between them. His large hand nearly engulfed hers, and only the delicate tips of her fingers were visible.
"No, it's all right. I've always wanted to be married outdoors." Chantal lied, suppressing the urge to take her hand out from beneath his. As she car clattered across the cobblestones of the London streets, Chantal wondered, with a sinking heart, how long she could keep up this façade.
******
Trey swore as he was nearly tripped by a man who was struggling to see around a large crate. The life of the London docks bustled around him as he moved through the crowd. He wandered off determinedly toward the cabs that were waiting at the end of the docks.
Stopping at one cab, he asked, "Do you have any idea where I could find Lord Nicholas Worchester?" The cab driver shook his head. "Could you take me to the Cannizaro House then?"
"Sure, mate." The cab driver grunted, opening the back door of the car for Trey. Trey stepped inside, and looked out through the window, smoothing the lapels of his shirt. He carried one small bag with him, as a man of travels, over the years he had learned to pack lightly. The cab rumbled to a start, bumping over the cobblestoned streets. Trey sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. The sun was disappearing behind dark clouds, and had people begun to bring out their umbrellas.
"It's sure to rain, isn't it?" The cab driver asked, turning around and giving Trey a look.
"It does." Trey agreed, shrugging.
"Sometimes the weather here is such a drag. I'd rather move to Paris."
"Paris?" Trey asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh yes. I'm one for all that Bohemian stuff, y'know?" For a moment, Trey wasn't sure what the cab driver had said, as his accent was a bit thick, but then it finally cleared up.
"You're a bohemian."
"Oh yes. All that, truth, love, beauty, freedom. Beautiful stuff." The cab driver waved his hands about and the car swerved a bit.
"Well, so am I." Trey smiled.
"You're a bohemian too?" The cab driver asked, sounding excited as he turned around.
Trey spotted the curb of the road. "Watch it!" He yelled. "We can't very well be alive to spread the revolution when we're dead."
The cab driver looked apologetic. "Oh, sorry." He replied, straightening out the car. Trey breathed a silent sigh of relief.
The car was silent as they headed to the Cannizaro House, and Trey was glad, for he needed time to be with his thoughts.
******
The car pulled up in front of Nicholas's stately mansion in the countryside just outside of London. Chantal looked up at the dark sky and the listened morosely to the pitter-patter of the raindrops upon the cobblestoned ground.
"Come on darling, we're home now." Nicholas's voice broke the silence. She put her hand on top of his outstretched hand as they waited for the driver to scurry around with an umbrella. After escorting them out of the car, Chantal wordlessly took the umbrella from the tall and regal driver before heading in, dimly hearing the slam of the trunk as the driver removed their luggage. The only sound that resounded in her mind was the sound of falling rain.
******
A storm had moved in over Paris, the dark clouds heavy with unshed rain. Christian looked up at the sky, sighing deeply. He moved back from his balcony into his room, pulling on a jacket for warmth along the way. With the loss of Chantal's familiar presence, the air seemed much colder than it was in reality. He sat down at his typewriter, intending to continue the play he and Chantal had been working on before she had disappeared, and yet, as his fingers hovered over the keys, no words came flowing into his mind. Frustrated, he slammed his fist down on the table, making a glass of absinthe teeter and nearly topple over. He pressed his fingers to his temples briefly, closing his eyes. Inhaling a breath of cool storm air, he opened his eyes and tried again to summon the words. And yet, still, they did not come. Shaking his head, he got up from the chair, and as he moved to the balcony, he brought the glass of absinthe with him. Standing, once again, staring out at the courtyard, he drank in sips of absinthe, as thunder rumbled overhead and as the rain rapidly soaked his clothes.
******
Chantal stood at the large French doors, watching the grounds through the rain-streaked windows. She unlocked one of the doors and stepped out into the pouring rain, not caring that within a moment she had become soaked to the skin. Her thin nightgown had not provided much protection against the rain, and soon her clothes were sticking to her. Strands of her hair clung to her cheeks as water streamed down her face. Soon, tears welled up in her eyes, and they flowed out as she sobbed quietly, the salty tears mingling with the rain.
******
Trey watched from the window of his room at the Cannizaro house at the rain-wet streets below. Turning away, he pulled on a jacket and grabbed his room key before heading downstairs. As he reached the clerk at the counter, and waited for the man to turn away from his files and to look at him.
He cleared his throat gently and the man turned around. "Excuse me, but could you please tell me where I can find Lord Nicholas Worchester?"
"Lord Worchester?" the man asked in a thick accent, almost butchering the name.
"Yes, Lord Worchester." Trey affirmed, nodding his head, feeling distinctly as if he were talking to a 2-year-old and having a language barrier.
"Hold on a moment," The clerk said, before disappearing beneath the counter and reappearing with an address book. "Ah! Here it is." The clerk said triumphantly, pushing the address book across the counter to Trey.
Trey took out a pen from his jacket and wrote down the address on a slip of paper that the clerk handed to him. "Thank you." As he turned away, he stashed the address in a pocket of his jacket before grabbing an umbrella and walking out the main doors into the rain. He waited there for a moment before spotting a taxi and hailing it. As he got in, he recited the address for the driver and closed the door. The taxi rumbled away and began heading for the Worchester house.
******
Christian lay in bed, eyes open as he stared around at the dark room. Coughs racked his body. The doctor had come a day ago, diagnosed him with a cold and promptly had given him medicine to take. But it was not the sickness that kept him awake. It was something else entirely.
******
Chantal re-emerged from the large closet she had inside her room, as she had just changed from her rain-soaked clothes into a burgundy dress. She bit her lip, wondering if she was really doing the right thing. During her time out in the rain, staring out at the English countryside, she had realized that although, perhaps, that Christian didn't love her as she loved him, it would still be worth it to be surrounded by the things she loved rather than the things she didn't. She crept cautiously out into the corridor, then took the steps slowly, one at a time, down to the main level of the house. Nicholas was sitting on a plush, brocaded chair down in the living room, reading the day's newspaper. He looked up as she approached and greeted her with a wide smile.
"Nicholas…I can't stay. I have things to attend to at the Moulin Rouge." Chantal said, the words beginning to tumble out of her mouth after the first few tense moments.
"What?" he asked, wrinkling his forehead.
"I can't. I have to go back." Chantal said, wringing her hands together.
Nicholas sat, slightly stunned, and as Chantal watched, realization dawned in his eyes. "It's him isn't it?" He asked quietly.
"Yes."
"You've…fallen in love with him." Nicholas said, sounding more like he was talking to himself rather than to her.
"Yes."
"But I love you." Nicholas said plaintively, looking betrayed and torn.
"I know. But I don't love you." Chantal said, a tear slipping down her cheek. Nicholas sat, rooted to his chair, silent. Chantal swallowed hard, then slowly slipped her engagement ring off her finger. She set it down upon a neighbouring table, then gave him a bittersweet smile before taking a coat off the coat hanger and retrieving an umbrella. She walked to the door, pulled it open, and stepped out into the open, breathing a small sigh of relief. She slowly trudged though the muddy road, standing at the gate and hailing a passing taxi. As she slipped into the car, she looked up at the imposing house one last time before telling the driver to head for the docks. She was going back to Montmartre…and Christian.
*******
The taxi pulled up in front of Lord Worchester's house, and Trey slowly extracted himself from the inside, determined not to trip over the oversized umbrella. The rain has stopped a moment ago, but the ground was still dangerously wet. Slipping on the wet cobblestones, he made his way, gaping the whole way, at the grandiose house. Reaching the doorway, he knocked on the door and waited. The door opened a moment later, and a haggard looking man appeared.
"Um. I'm looking for Miss Chantal?" Trey asked.
The man laughed bitterly. "Ah yes, my former fiancée. And you are?" He inquired, fixing Trey with a decidedly unsteady gaze. He swayed on his feet a bit.
"Lord Worchester?" Trey could tell the man was drunk. "I am Trey from the Moulin Rouge." Trey extracted Christian's letter from his coat pocket. "I was supposed to give this to Chantal."
"She has left. She is already on her way back to the Moulin Rouge." Nicholas seemed, for a moment, sober, as his voice spat out the words bitterly. "Go back and find her there, for you won't find her here." With that, the door slammed in Trey's face. Trey blinked, then raised his eyebrows. He slowly walked back to the waiting cab, and he got in, heading back to the Moulin Rouge.
******
A day later, China Doll received a letter from Trey. She read it quickly, her eyes opening wide as she read the contents. She hurried from her room down to the Moulin Rouge where Christian was sitting and watching the production.
"Christian!" She cried, bursting into the room.
Christian turned around. "Yes?"
"Chantal…is returning."
…TBC…
LPC5 –Last chapter! As I said previously, this will be a surprise ending. I will not really be putting a spoiler up for it here as I did for previous chapters as I do not want to spoil the ending.
A.N. and Thank Yous:
Thank you to everyone for waiting so patiently. I did not mean to take this long, but I had prior duties to take care of in real life that kept me from writing this.
Thank you's to:
First and foremost:
Trey: Wow. You're pretty prominent in this chapter. I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the previous chapters. :)
Liz- I told you you'd be in this chapter too!
Kate-Hey…now you have 2 chapters to catch up on! :)
And all the rest of you that were lamenting over the lack of Moulin Rouge fanfictions on FFN. Here's something for ya! ;)
Thank you to all that reviewed on Fanfiction.net!
All my Moulin Rouge Whores at FF: (er, this is the old list as after the hacker, I don't know who is a whore anymore.) But the next Chapter will probably have the updated list.
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
stekko
spfmaxyo
ColorMist
angel_aguilera - Moulin Rouge Man Whore #2
SmittenMitten
altastarlet
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. :)