Chapter XIII: Autumn Grace

Satine called impatiently to her husband a few months later. It's here! Christian! It's here! Upstairs, Christian threw down his tie and plunged down the stairs at a dizzying speed. Anne gasped and ducked into the pantry as he sprinted by her with his top two buttons of his shirt undone and his hair uncombed.

It's here? he demanded as he skidded into the kitchen. Satine held out a thick brown parcel with a smile.

Right here. Straight from the publishing house. Christian let out an soft scream and torn the paper off, revealing two new copies of his book.

The Greatest Thing, he read proudly, holding up the shining book to the rich fall sunlight. Satine grabbed the second copy and opened it to the reviews.

What seems to be a simple love story between a penniless poet and the woman he loves is much deeper. M. Everett's beautiful prose and wonderful sense of story has given this little book all the wealth the literary world could possess. When Juliette, the young, poor girl who's dream of being an actress seems to the verge of realization, we can't help but to understand her plight, even if we've never thought of being on stage. We pray that she and her true love will be together by the end of the novel, and we sigh with happiness when her wealthy suitor is rejected. M. Everett's Bohemian ideals appeal to the naiveté of the soul, and satisfy it to the fullest extent. Satine smiled up at Christian. In other words, you did it, darling. Christian dropped the book and picked her up, spinning her around the room. Satine laughed joyously as he lowered her to the ground, touching his forehead to hers.

No, you did it, Satine, Christian said. You were my muse. Satine only smiled up into his eyes. He lifted her back up and wrapped his arms around her slender waist.

And you can tell everybody
This is your song.

He sang the words softly, reminding Satine of their first meeting in the elephant, so long ago. He picked up the book and opened it to the dedication page.

It may be quite simple, but
Now that it's done. . .

He handed her the book, and she took it with wonder. To Satine, she read, amazed that Christian had done this for her. This is your song.

I hope you don't mind,
I hope you don't mind
That I put down in words. . .
How wonderful life is
Now you're in the world.

Oh, Christian, Satine whispered. He bent his head and kissed her, slowly at first, but then she drew him closer.

With the money from Christian's aunt and the profits from his book, they lived comfortably, and Satine found herself delighting in every small joy life had to offer her. They took long walks together in the midst of autumn. The French countryside was beautiful, and the glorious symphony of crimson, orange, purple, and gold that the leaves played provided the perfect background for their strolls.

Satine asked as they walked hand in hand alongside a sparkling brook.



Is this what heaven will be like? Christian did not answer at first, but instead just held her hand a little tighter.

I don't know, he said after a moment of silence. I suppose it'll be more beautiful than anything on earth.

I don't see how it could be, Satine said seriously, tugging a little on his hand to stop for a brief time. Christian turned and looked at her. She was wearing a light beige suit that brought out the creamy tones of her skin. She had long since taken off her hat and was carrying it at her side, and her red-gold hair gleamed like mahogany in the light. He raised her hand and placed a light kiss on it.

I don't know what I did to deserve this, he said quietly. Something wonderful, I think. Satine only lowered her dusky eyelashes onto her cheek, and smiled very sweetly.

Didn't you say there's a waterfall up ahead? she asked a few moments later. I want to see it.

Have you ever seen a waterfall before? Christian asked curiously as they continued on.

Satine admitted. I've seen pictures in books, though. Well, there aren't just a lot of waterfalls in Montmarte, she said a trifle defensively. Although Harold did think about putting one into the Moulin Rouge once.

Christian said, plainly puzzled by the thought, Would he do that? Satine shrugged.

I don't know. He did think about it, though. I think he wanted us to all be mermaids or something like that. Christian unsuccessfully tried to hold back his laughter and Satine elbowed him in his side.

When did you see a waterfall, then?

Uh. . . Christian said sheepishly. In a book. He and Satine looked at each other for a few seconds and then simultaneously burst out laughing.

Oh, dear, Satine said, wiping away a mirthful tear.

Christian said, his hand resting on her arm. There it is. The huge cascade of water glittered and plunged down to the river below. Satine let out a tiny gasp of delight.

How beautiful. . . she breathed. The rushing sound of water filled her ears and she turned to Christian in delight. I never dreamed things like this existed in the world, she said, climbing up on the rocks to get a better view. Tiny rivulets of waters streamed down the mossy stones, and the cool spray enveloped them both as they wandered closer to the waterfall. Christian tightened his grip on her waist.

I love you, Satine.

And I you, she replied, turning to look at him. They stood there, together, for a few minutes, and then Satine stirred.

We'd better start back to the house, she said, gently breaking away from him.

I'll race you, Christian grinned. Satine's mouth opened wide.

Not in these shoes! Christian's only response was to stick his tongue out at her as he sprinted off.

Satine warned. With a determined grin on her face, she pulled off her shoes and stockings, hitched her skirt up to an indecent level, and took off after her husband.

Needless to say, neither of them won the race.

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Author's Note: STILL! I own nothing. Please don't sue me. Love all the lovely reviews I've gotten. Thank you so much. :)

Songs used:
Your Song--Elton John, but we all know Christian sings it best, right?