Disclaimer: All characters are property of their respective owners. Baz owns Christian and Satine, and I own Katherine, Rosemary, and Emily.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to the fantastique Red Room Diamonds. Celyn, Kara, Madi, and Hannah, you guys rock my world. Hey-- where else would I find people willing to chat about fanfic ideas and frying pans all day long? Uh. . . on second thought, don't answer that.
Author's Note: Reviews, especially constructive criticism, is more than welcome. I will be forever in your debt if you drop me a line and let me know what you think. A thousand thanks in advance.
A Love That Will Live Forever
Hold on, Christian, please!
Don't leave us now, Father!
Grandpapa, please try!
Pain. It came over him in agonizing shocks that shot through his whole body. Cold. He was cold. So cold. . . like ice running through his veins. He was old. Breathing took too much energy. He wanted to rest. Just to sit and rest for a moment, and he would be fine.
Christian, please say something!
Say something? Why should he say anything? He was trapped between the rapidly nearing walls of pain. He held himself back from the final jump into that pool of darkness. He was locked between pain and nothingness. Drowsily, he thought he heard someone say his name.
He sighed deeply and reached up for the hand that was extended for him. Numbness flooded his body, and the convulsions stopped. His breath came slowly and painfully, but his eyes blinked open. Katherine sat there, her lined face damp with tears. Her pale golden hair had long since faded to a soft white and her petite frame had shrunken. Only her large grey eyes were still the same. He tried to reach out to comfort her, but found that his hands would not obey his commands.
Their daughter and grandaughter watched anxiously from the other side of the bed.
Emily, hush for a moment.
Why don't you take her out, Rosemary? Katherine suggested gently. I'll call you if you're needed. A child shouldn't be here.
Say goodnight to your grandfather, Emily, Rosemary said to her daughter, her voice trembling a little. Emily climbed up and left a dainty kiss on Christian's cheek before her lip quivered and tears beaded on her girlish lashes.
Thank you, Emma, Christian said as lightly as he could, ignoring the knifing pain in his chest. Be happy, dearest.
I will, Grandpapa, the little girl promised, her voice fierce. I promise.
Christian tried to smile. I love you, Rosie.
I know. His daughter bent gracefully and kissed his forehead. She was blinking back tears, but her smile was still ironed onto her face for her daughter's sake. I love you too, Papa. I'll come in with Andrew and Diana later.
Katherine and Christian watched them go. He finally reached his wife's hand and held it tightly as he stared around the room. Pictures lined the walls, outlining every year of his life since leaving Paris. Katherine as a young girl sat next to their wedding photograph. Photographs of the children, family portraits, the weddings of their children. His life as everyone here knew it. Except for Katherine, and she'd known about Satine from the first.
Christian turned to look at Katherine again. She was a good woman. Sweet and tender-hearted, she lived for others before herself. Perhaps that was why she had married the broken-hearted man and given him new life.
Don't look at me like that, Katherine said sharply, noticing his expression. I'm getting a little tired of this Katherine the martyr game you like to play. She laughed, softening the sting of the words. Oh, Christian, I hate to lose you, darling. I love you, she finished, her eyes misting over with tears.
Love you too, Christian said faintly. His voice was ruined now by years of living, worn and tired. He looked up at her with pleading in his eyes. Till death. Don't. . . mind. . . do you?
You promised until the ending of this life, she said quietly. I never asked for more than that. And you know what I'm hoping to find behind the veil that shields us from heaven.
I . . . know, Christian whispered hoarsely. The pain was starting to come back. He could feel his body begging him to release it, to let it go. Find. . . it.
I will. You will. She noticed his trembling hand and gently laid it back on his chest. She kissed his lips tenderly, and then brushed away a wayward tear that had found its way onto her cheek. You've always known that she'd wait.
Come. . . what. . . The darkness was swallowing him then, but he heard the faintest melody of an old familiar song. Crimson lips. Satin skin. Dark red curls. Truth. Beauty. Freedom. Love. Love. . .
Katherine finished for him as he expelled his last breath and closed his eyes. His body sank into the bed without the life force to hold onto it. An empty shell without the vital spirit of the man she loved. She sat there for a long time, the anguish tearing at her soul. Death was so final and left her so helpless in his wake. There was nothing she could do to bring her beloved husband back. Nor would she want to, she realized, remembering his last words. He had died with her name in his heart, their song on his lips. Not that it was any terrible betrayal. Katherine and Christian's love had been purely mortal. It was no love that would live forever.
Katherine reached out and brushed a lock of white hair away from Christian's forehead. Her hand shook from both age and grief as she remembered the curves of a young man's face and the silken black hair that had brushed it. She tried to hold back her tears, but images of Christian kept coming to her. The man with the saddest eyes she'd ever seen, holding a little orphan boy in his arms. The first time they'd talked together. Dinners, dancing, kisses, marriage, children, growing old. She had made him happy, she reflected as she curled up next to him on the bed. And he had made her happy in return. She laid her head near his on the pillow and let her tears stain his shirt. An animal whimper of pain escaped her and her face crumpled.
Oh, Christian. . . Christian. . .
Satine's eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright on the bed. Here? Are you sure?
He's coming, Nini answered, leaning on the edge of the bed. Her face was unmarked by age and makeup, and her dark hair cascaded over her white gown beautifully. She smiled crookedly, revealing the same sarcastic touch of humor that she had been known for at the Moulin Rouge. Nini had died several years after Satine had, and the two of them had become good friends in the afterworld, clinging to each other when everything was so terrifying and foreign. I thought it might be nice to have a little welcoming party for your Shakespeare.
Oh, did you? Satine countered, already out of bed and rummaging through her wardrobe. She pulled out a blue gown, scowled at it, and continued looking. Nini moved to stand by her, staring at the dresses with mock astonishment.
I thought we were supposed to let go of earthly vanities now, she said mischievously, knowing how much Satine loved her dresses.
We have a while to worry about that, Satine answered absently, holding up a lacy cream dress. What do you think?
No. When do you'll think you'll get over this, Satine? Third century? Fourth?
All right, all right, I'm sorry. Pursing her lips, Nini stuck her entire head into the wardrobe and retrieved a red satin gown. He'll recognize you in this.
I'm not so sure that's the best, Satine said thoughtfully. It doesn't say the right thing.
You're right, Nini said after a moment of deliberation. We don't want to scream courtesan in heaven.
You wear red all the time, Satine pointed out defensively.
I look good in red.
And I don't?
You know those silly stories they tell on earth, Satine. If it was up to them, we'd be wearing this-- she gestured to her dress and made a face-- all the bloody time.
You aren't helping.
Nini frowned at Satine playfully and touched a finger to the dress. The crimson colour seemed to shiver, then lightened to a pure white. She looked up at Satine smugly. There. What would you do without me?
A lot of things, Satine said dryly as she slipped into the dress. Quickly and efficiently, she pulled her red curls from her chignon and let them fall down her back. A few spritzes of a flowery perfume later, and she stood before her mirror. She stared nervously at her reflection, her slender fingers tapping a delicate pattern out on the frame. Nini squeezed her elbow.
I've got everyone gathered. He'll be here soon, all right?
All right, Satine said softly. Her face was pale with worry, and she was barely conscious of Nini shutting the door behind her. He was here. After nearly sixty years of waiting, he would be with her again. She had watched him through a great deal of those years. . . watched him grieve and grow, fall in love again and marry. At times the pain of longing had nearly been more than she could bear. For him to be so close and yet so far. . . but he would be here. With her. Would it be the same? Would he even want to be with her now?
She thought of Katherine with a jealous pang. She'd been just what Christian needed a point in his life, but surely that point had passed. Hadn't it?
There was only one way to find out. She would be the first to greet him on his entering through the pearled gates onto the shining streets. . . and she would ask him if he remembered. Surely he hadn't forgotten the kisses, the touches, the laughter. He couldn't have.
Could he?
Christian blinked carefully, and took a shallow breath. When he found that his breath was easy, he greedily sucked in the air. He lay flat on his back, watching clouds drift over a bright azure sky. Where was he? Why had someone brought him outside?
He nearly gasped at the sound of his voice. The tremor of age had vanished from it. He stared down at his hands. Smooth. Young. A poet's hands. Fear and joy shooting through him, he sat up and looked around. He lay in a field of rich green grasses that were gently stirred by summery breezes. The air was sweet. So sweet.
How glorious it was to be able to move again! Lithe and young, he leapt to his feet, taking joy in every tiny movement. He smiled as he saw he wore the threadbare suit he'd possessed in Montmartre. Montmartre. . . the Moulin Rouge. . . Satine.
Where was she? He swallowed against the sudden disappointment that clenched at his stomach. Was she even here? Had she forgotten their promise? The meadow whispered murmuring promises to him, and he could hear the faint gurgling of a cheerful little brook. But no Satine.
He pressed his hand to his eyes, refusing to cry. He wouldn't begin his life-- if you could call it that-- here with tears. He let out a ragged breath and took his first step towards the far off gates that shone before him. Fatigue pulled at him again, but this time the ache lay in his soul, not his body. He'd hoped so much for her to be here. It was the only thing that had carried him through the long years of painful loneliness.
He had gotten barely a few steps ahead when he heard a faint melody. It started out with a soft, warm sweep of violin. Gentle drops of bells played out a familiar song. Was it really. . .? Christian raised his head in awe. The gates seemed to be swinging open on their own. There was only one way to truly be sure. . .
Never knew I could feel like this,
His voice carried out over the plains, filling the air with its richness. Satine heard it and felt the tears begin in her eyes. She pushed past the people walking towards him, her skirt gathered in her hand. She had to reach him in time for her part. She began to run, and her friends parted before her, watching her go. Christian hesitated, then continued to sing.
Like I've never seen the sky before
Want to vanish inside your kiss
Every day I love you more and more.
He was almost the the gates now. He took another step forward, searching the silent crowd before him with his eyes. They had separated into two columns, and he saw a flash of red and white hurrying towards him. Christian took a deep breath and sang on.
Listen to my heart
Can you hear it sing?
Come to me and we'll repair everything!
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I will love you . . . till the end. . . of time.
He stopped walking and waited, his breath rising sharply in his chest. Would she answer him? Satine finally reached the gates and stared at him. She almost began crying in that moment, but held herself back. This was a moment of pure joy, not sorrow. All the past, everything that had separated them before, was gone. Satine took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she sang.
Come. . . what . . . may.
Christian started and a tear of joy slipped from his eyes. Satine. . . it was her. His love. The woman he had loved so many years ago. She looked exactly as he had remembered her. The same flawless porcelain skin and crimson lips. The sparkle of her eyes, fringed with dusky lashes. That cascade of dark red curls that brushed her shoulders and back. She wore . . . the red dress she had worn when he had first met her, but it was white now. She was truly an angel now. His wonderful, beautiful angel.
Come what may
Come what may,
Their voices joined together for the first time in sixty long years. They walked towards each other slowly, unwilling to shatter the magic spell. Their friends watched quietly, expressions of peace and fulfillment on their faces. None spoke.
I will love you until my dying day!
Suddenly, Satine and Christian started running to each other. They came into each other's arms easily, and held on so tightly, afraid to let go for fear of losing the one they loved.
Come what may
Oh, come what may
I will love you until the end of time!
Satine looked up into Christian's face and brushed her hand across his cheek. A tear appeared in his eyes, and she kissed it away. Slowly, her fingers curled down his face and rested on his lips. Christian took her hand and kissed it tenderly, bringing it to his shoulder.
Then their lips met in the first kiss in so long. It was timid at first, but it suddenly deepened as Christian brought her closer to him, and a rush of wind surrounded them both, surrounding them as they kissed. They drank each other in, loving the sweet taste that evoked all those bittersweet memories from their hectic romance. Warmth, tenderness, strength, joy-- all of that came over them in that kiss.
As they slowly drew back from their embrace, Satine took Christian's hand in hers and led him into the glorious light that poured onto the friends that had awaited him. As they stepped into the golden illumination, the gates swung shut, and all eternity opened for the lovers. It was truly as Christian had said-- a love that would live forever.
The beginning. . .