By My Side
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Moulin Rouge or from Godspell.
Author's Note: After spending 2 weeks hearing nothing but Godspell songs, who wouldn't be moved to write a songfic?
* * *
This couldn't be happening. Satine was dying. Dying. She lay crumpled in his arms, limp and weak, hardly able to lift her head to meet his eyes. She felt so fragile... he was half-afraid he would break her. This couldn't be happening.
"Write our story, Christian," she whispered to him, half-choking on the blood from her lungs. "That way I'll... always... be with you..."
"No, Satine," he begged. But she was quickly leaving him. Fighting back sobs that threatened to overwhelm him, he sang to her the last song they would share. "Where are you going? Where are you going? Can you take me with you?"
A sad smile crossed her bloodstained lips. If only he could come with her. It might make the prospect of dying easier to bear.
He gripped her hand tightly, kissing the fingertips. "For my hand is cold and needs warmth. Where are you going... where are you going?" Her frail body shook with another racking cough. He clutched her closer, trying taking her mind off her pain with his voice. His voice... it had always changed their destiny before. It had made her fall in love with him. But it could not stop or even slow her death, despite his efforts. "Far beyond where the horizon lies, where the horizon lies, and the land sinks into mellow blueness. Oh please, take me with you."
Christian brushed quickly at his eyes. He didn't want Satine to see him weak. Not now. All around the pair were their fellow creatures of the underworld. They stood silent and shocked. Their star was dying.
"Let me skip the road with you. I can dare myself. I can dare myself."
She shook her head. "Stay, Christian. You have to go on... you have so much to... give."
He gritted his teeth, wanting to scream at her not to leave him, and especially not to tell him to go on with his life. He could not go on without her. "I'll put a pebble in my shoe, and watch me walk. I can walk and walk." He bent and kissed her lips once more. She breathed a happy sigh and then closed her eyes forever.
Christian's breath caught in his chest. It was over. Funny, he had always pictured death as being violent and dramatic. But not Satine. As wild and vibrant as her life had been, her death had been just the opposite- quiet and peaceful, in the arms of the man she loved.
Nini stepped forward from the crowd, tears staining her face as she continued the song. "I shall call the pebble dare."
"I shall call the pebble dare." The Argentinean joined her, his deep voice rumbling in harmony with hers.
"We will talk together about walking."
"Dare shall be carried," began the Argentinean.
"And when we both have had enough," Nini joined in, reaching for his hand.
He took it, squeezing her thin pale fingers in a knowing embrace. "I will take him from my shoe, singing, 'Meet your new road.' The two drifted back into the crowd of faces, all eyes on Christian.
The broken-hearted writer cried silently, caressing Satine's red hair, still brilliant in death. "Then I'll take your hand. Fin'ly glad that you are here..." He rested his forehead against hers. "By my side."
The sobs he had been valiantly repressing exploded from him. He clung to her body, rocking back and forth as he kissed her sweet lips over and over, trying desperately to somehow breathe life back into his diamond.
But the diamond was broken and would not sparkle again.
* * *
The year was 1945. The Moulin Rouge still stood, half in shambles. Harold Zidler and his Diamond Dogs had long since left, leaving only the memory of the lively nightclub. Of course, there was also the memory of the star of the Moulin Rouge still haunting the theater. It was that memory that Christian had come back to find.
He was now old beyond his years with an age brought on by drinking and boughts of severe depression. But recently, that depression had lifted. That was when he knew it was time... time to go back to Montmartre and the Moulin Rouge. To face his haunted past one last time.
He entered the Moulin Rouge and quickly found his way to the theater. When he entered, he could almost hear the sounds of the tango being danced across the stage. But it was just his imagination.
Slowly, he made his way up the stairs to the stage. For a moment, he was young again, running up the stairs to the arms of his beautiful Hindi courtesan as she sang her undying love for him. "Come... what... may..." he whispered.
He had stayed true to her. All those years, he had never loved another woman. His only mistress had been the Green Fairy.
His feet carried him to where backstage would have been. Then... the spot she had died. He knelt, feeling her fragile weight in his arms once again. His heart ached once more, but it was not an ache brought on by a broken heart. He was dying.
His eyes felt heavy... so heavy. He allowed himself to lie down on the wooden floor, curling around the spot where she had died, an arm around her imaginary form. He closed his eyes. Suddenly, an airy voice filled the room. "Far beyond where the horizon lies."
Startled, his eyes snapped open. There was no one there. "Where the horizon lies," he echoed.
"And the land sinks into mellow blueness."
He stood, feeling sudden strength in his old limbs. "Oh please... take me with you."
And then there she was, in all of her beauty. Her green eyes sparkled with an ethereal light and she reached out to him. "Then I'll take your hand, finally glad..."
"Finally glad," he sang, moving towards her, reaching out a hand for hers. "That you are here."
Their hands met. Satine pulled him close to her. "Oh, my Christian. I've missed you so much." They kissed, a kiss filled with youthful passion and sweet bliss. "By my side," she sang, gazing deep into his eyes. "Welcome home, Christian."
Behind them, the old, graying singer lay still, a peaceful smile on his lined face. At last, in death, he was with his love. After all, their love was a love that would live forever.
The end.
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Moulin Rouge or from Godspell.
Author's Note: After spending 2 weeks hearing nothing but Godspell songs, who wouldn't be moved to write a songfic?
* * *
This couldn't be happening. Satine was dying. Dying. She lay crumpled in his arms, limp and weak, hardly able to lift her head to meet his eyes. She felt so fragile... he was half-afraid he would break her. This couldn't be happening.
"Write our story, Christian," she whispered to him, half-choking on the blood from her lungs. "That way I'll... always... be with you..."
"No, Satine," he begged. But she was quickly leaving him. Fighting back sobs that threatened to overwhelm him, he sang to her the last song they would share. "Where are you going? Where are you going? Can you take me with you?"
A sad smile crossed her bloodstained lips. If only he could come with her. It might make the prospect of dying easier to bear.
He gripped her hand tightly, kissing the fingertips. "For my hand is cold and needs warmth. Where are you going... where are you going?" Her frail body shook with another racking cough. He clutched her closer, trying taking her mind off her pain with his voice. His voice... it had always changed their destiny before. It had made her fall in love with him. But it could not stop or even slow her death, despite his efforts. "Far beyond where the horizon lies, where the horizon lies, and the land sinks into mellow blueness. Oh please, take me with you."
Christian brushed quickly at his eyes. He didn't want Satine to see him weak. Not now. All around the pair were their fellow creatures of the underworld. They stood silent and shocked. Their star was dying.
"Let me skip the road with you. I can dare myself. I can dare myself."
She shook her head. "Stay, Christian. You have to go on... you have so much to... give."
He gritted his teeth, wanting to scream at her not to leave him, and especially not to tell him to go on with his life. He could not go on without her. "I'll put a pebble in my shoe, and watch me walk. I can walk and walk." He bent and kissed her lips once more. She breathed a happy sigh and then closed her eyes forever.
Christian's breath caught in his chest. It was over. Funny, he had always pictured death as being violent and dramatic. But not Satine. As wild and vibrant as her life had been, her death had been just the opposite- quiet and peaceful, in the arms of the man she loved.
Nini stepped forward from the crowd, tears staining her face as she continued the song. "I shall call the pebble dare."
"I shall call the pebble dare." The Argentinean joined her, his deep voice rumbling in harmony with hers.
"We will talk together about walking."
"Dare shall be carried," began the Argentinean.
"And when we both have had enough," Nini joined in, reaching for his hand.
He took it, squeezing her thin pale fingers in a knowing embrace. "I will take him from my shoe, singing, 'Meet your new road.' The two drifted back into the crowd of faces, all eyes on Christian.
The broken-hearted writer cried silently, caressing Satine's red hair, still brilliant in death. "Then I'll take your hand. Fin'ly glad that you are here..." He rested his forehead against hers. "By my side."
The sobs he had been valiantly repressing exploded from him. He clung to her body, rocking back and forth as he kissed her sweet lips over and over, trying desperately to somehow breathe life back into his diamond.
But the diamond was broken and would not sparkle again.
* * *
The year was 1945. The Moulin Rouge still stood, half in shambles. Harold Zidler and his Diamond Dogs had long since left, leaving only the memory of the lively nightclub. Of course, there was also the memory of the star of the Moulin Rouge still haunting the theater. It was that memory that Christian had come back to find.
He was now old beyond his years with an age brought on by drinking and boughts of severe depression. But recently, that depression had lifted. That was when he knew it was time... time to go back to Montmartre and the Moulin Rouge. To face his haunted past one last time.
He entered the Moulin Rouge and quickly found his way to the theater. When he entered, he could almost hear the sounds of the tango being danced across the stage. But it was just his imagination.
Slowly, he made his way up the stairs to the stage. For a moment, he was young again, running up the stairs to the arms of his beautiful Hindi courtesan as she sang her undying love for him. "Come... what... may..." he whispered.
He had stayed true to her. All those years, he had never loved another woman. His only mistress had been the Green Fairy.
His feet carried him to where backstage would have been. Then... the spot she had died. He knelt, feeling her fragile weight in his arms once again. His heart ached once more, but it was not an ache brought on by a broken heart. He was dying.
His eyes felt heavy... so heavy. He allowed himself to lie down on the wooden floor, curling around the spot where she had died, an arm around her imaginary form. He closed his eyes. Suddenly, an airy voice filled the room. "Far beyond where the horizon lies."
Startled, his eyes snapped open. There was no one there. "Where the horizon lies," he echoed.
"And the land sinks into mellow blueness."
He stood, feeling sudden strength in his old limbs. "Oh please... take me with you."
And then there she was, in all of her beauty. Her green eyes sparkled with an ethereal light and she reached out to him. "Then I'll take your hand, finally glad..."
"Finally glad," he sang, moving towards her, reaching out a hand for hers. "That you are here."
Their hands met. Satine pulled him close to her. "Oh, my Christian. I've missed you so much." They kissed, a kiss filled with youthful passion and sweet bliss. "By my side," she sang, gazing deep into his eyes. "Welcome home, Christian."
Behind them, the old, graying singer lay still, a peaceful smile on his lined face. At last, in death, he was with his love. After all, their love was a love that would live forever.
The end.