*Title: The Beat of a Heart (Part Two- Here Comes My Girl)
*Author: Jania Jitsu
*Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Lurhmann, I suppose. It certainly doesn't belong to me! Although I wouldn't mind an Ewan, if you can spare . . .
*Feedback: jania_jitsu@yahoo.com
*Author's Note: Sorry it took so long. I've been terribly busy lately and haven't had the time to post! And then I was going to post Part Two, but I decided to combine it with Part Three. (This was after I combined parts three and four!) Whew. So, sorry, but there may be good time in between parts.
A big thank you to everyone who answered my questions. Apparently in the script Christian's last name is James. I've gotten used to Stratton, though, so I'll think I'll keep it because they never actually said his last name in the movie. I can squeak by canon like that. : ) By the way, did anyone else notice the Lockwood/Stratton thing? I didn't until just now. (I subconsciously put in two last names from a really good book trilogy. Anyone know what it is? Brownie points!)
Tom sat with Rick in the hallway. He fidgeted in his chair; so uncomfortable that he was unable to keep still any longer. The chairs were fine, comfort-wise. It was the waiting that was getting to Tom. Christian had gone into a room- the room they were sitting outside, actually- with a lawyer to discuss the terms of the will and they hadn't come out yet. Tom knew that wills generally took a while, especially when one had to find good loopholes, but that didn't help his impatience any.
Tom had been at the original reading of the will, and he knew that there were some things in the document that would, at the very least, upset Christian. Then again, Christian wasn't really the same person anymore. Tom felt as if he hardly knew the man who had come back from France claiming to be Tom's childhood friend. It was bizarre and a little creepy.
Tom's thoughts were interrupted as the door slowly creaked open. He and Rick jumped up from their seats. Christian walked out of the room looking like he had just watched someone beat his only child. His demeanor was that of a broken man. It disturbed Tom more than anything had before.
Christian spoke at last. He asked only one question. Luckily it was one that Tom could answer.
o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o
The warm yellow sunshine streamed from the outside world through the window and into the library-slash-study. From there it spread throughout the room- soaking into the dark maroon velvet curtains, into the floor, into chairs, clothes, and skin.
Meg had gotten a new book and she had just started reading it that day, sitting in a plush maroon chair. Mother and Father had always told her that men didn't like women who knew too much, but Meg simply couldn't resist the calling of books. She loved them all: fiction, non-fiction, short stories, novels, plays, and poetry.
And Meg's parents were dead anyway, so what could they possibly know?
In her current book the main character had just met the girl of his dreams and was completely, irreversibly in love with her. Alas- for she was of low class, and had a rather scandalous job, and the hero wasn't even quite sure that she loved him. Meg smiled as the main character described his ineptness at dancing. It promised to be an excellent book.
A maid poked her head into the room. "Miss Margaret?" she said uncertainly, for she knew very well how Meg hated to be interrupted. "Miss Margaret, you should really make yourself presentable."
Meg sighed and put down her book. "All right, Sophia." She smiled. "I suppose if I have to."
o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o
"So, who is this Miss Lockwood and why does her name sound so familiar?"
"Do you remember a long time ago, from when we were kids? Rob and Rick called her Maggie-Magpie. She hated it- remember? She cried."
Christian nodded as they walked out to the carriage.
"There's a welcome-home party for you tonight," Rick put in. "She'll be there, of course."
Christian said nothing. He was silent for the rest of the trip home. He went straight to his room and did not come out until a manservant told him that the party was about to start. He then replied that he was too ill to go and please inform the guests that they simply must have fun without him.
Christian closed the door and sank down to the floor, weeping profusely. Like he so often did, he sang poetry to the songbird, which had formerly belonged to Satine. Somehow it almost seemed like singing to her.
"Sunshine, blue skies- please go away.
My girl has left me behind and gone away.
With her with my future, my life is filled with gloom,
so day after day, I stay locked up in my room.
I know to you it might sound strange,
but I wish it would rain.
Oh, how I wish that it would rain!
Cos so badly, I wanna go outside.
But everyone knows that a man ain't supposed to cry.
Listen, I gotta cry cos crying eases the pain.
This hurt I feel inside words can never explain!
I just wish it would rain.
Oh, let it rain, rain, rain!
Oh, how I wish that it would rain!
... Let it rain, let it rain.
I need rain to disguise the tears in my eyes.
You know, I'm a man and I've got my pride:
till it rains, I'm gonna stay inside.
Let it rain, let it rain.
Oh, how I wish that it would rain!"
o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o
Christian came out of his room three days later, claiming to have been sick. He slipped by servants (who all pretended not to see him) and into the library- his favorite room in the house. It took him a moment to realize that someone else was in there, but he still had the advantage. She hadn't noticed his entrance at all.
She was curled up in his chair reading a book. She had light brown eyes and dark brown hair that fell down her back in curls. She wasn't extraordinarily tall or thin, but she wasn't short or fat either. She was of average height and average build. She was pretty, but not stunningly beautiful at all.
She was the opposite of Satine Desmergers- she was perfectly ordinary. She could only be Margaret Lockwood.
Christian wasn't going to say a word. He was just going to back out of the room quietly and run back up to his room, where he wouldn't have to worry about arranged marriages or the staff talking about the "odd young Mr Stratton".
Of course, plans rarely go as they're supposed to. Especially when one is backing out of a room. Then one tends to run into things, like chairs.
Her head snapped up. Judging by her face, she look about Christian's age. A few years younger, in fact.
"Oh!" she said, putting the book away quickly. "I'm so sorry, sir. I was just . . . reading this book . . . I lost track of time . . ."
"My mistake," Christian said, and he quickly left the room with a polite bow. Once the library's big double doors were closed, Christian ran all the way back to the safety of his room.
o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o
"So, Miss Margaret," Sophia said with a little smile as she walked into the room, "How do you like young Mr Stratton?"
Meg's eyebrows shot up. "That was him?! Well, then, I . . . I don't really know how I like him. He didn't say much. Actually, he left as soon as he could. I almost feel insulted."
Sophia laughed. "Well, that's not the important part anyway. Do you think you could fall in love with him?" she asked, her voice practically shining with eagerness. Sophia had never been in love herself, but she had heard all about it and she had looked in at all the balls. Love was an exciting and fascinating subject.
Meg sighed. "Oh, I don't know! I've never been in love! I don't know anything about love except what I've read about it in books. I've always known that I would be shipped off to some rich snob and if I turned up lucky I would give him a son and then he would leave me alone and die early."
"I don't think Mr Stratton'll be dying off any time soon," Sophia remarked playfully. "He seems to be in good shape to me."
"Yes," Meg agreed with mild irritation, "he's good looking all right, but is he anything else? I have no idea- he won't even talk to me and I've been here for four days already! What kind of marriage will that be? There's no love there."
"The other servants say that he is kind," Sophia offered helpfully.
"I'm sure he is, but what does it matter if he doesn't love me? I heard his two friends, Mr Ellison and Mr Riddle, talking in the study one day. Mr Stratton, Sr., said in his will that if his son and I don't wed within a year of the reading of the will the entire estate will go to Mr Stratton, Sr.'s nephew. I don't remember a lot about my childhood visits here, but I do remember that Christian and Alphonse detested each other."
"Of course he would marry to keep his inheritance," Sophia said, like this was just the most natural, sensible thing ever. "He's a very rich man."
"I also remember," Meg said, "the last time I visited. His mother had just died and he was still trying to figure things out. He told me that there were four important things in life. Everything else was superfluous, but the four most important, vital things in life were Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and Love.
"He was fourteen at the time and I was ten, so I really didn't understand a word of what he was talking about. I was just happy that he was including me. I remember how his eyes shined- it was a little frightening, the power he seemed to possess within him at that time. He truly believed every word he spoke.
"Rick, Bobby, and Tommy (this was back before they all became Messrs and I became Miss) would have laughed at him, had his mother not just died. They thought it was crazy. They thought he was crazy. But I believed him.
"I believed him! Then when he gave me a book of love poetry to read, I read it. And when he told me things, things that other people would have considered absurd, I listened. He doesn't know it, but he changed my life! I would have turned out some ignorant, silly little girl who only thought of clothes. He made me think about things.
"Strange, but it never occurred to either of us that we were betrothed all along. All the times as a child, when his friends teased me and he took up for me. When he included me in their games, and told me things that he never would have told the boys . . . we never stopped to think that our parents had it all planned out. Or, I didn't, anyhow."
"I doubt he did either," Sophia put in. "He was a young boy obsessed with love."
"You're right. He would have never thought of such a thing as betrothal. He said to me once, in that last visit, that it was a dirty concept. I only found out that we were to be wed about three years ago. Then it simply . . . didn't happen. It just faded away."
"I heard he went to France to become a writer," Sophia revealed. "One of the butlers said he never looked back until his father died."
"So he must have heard," Meg said glumly. "I wonder. Did he even remember me from before, or was he opposed to marrying anyone he didn't love?"
"I'm sure it's not you," Sophia said comfortingly. "I'm sure he just has a heavy cross to bear."
o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o
Christian sat inside his room, leaning on the door with his head in his shaking hands.
He vaguely remembered her now. Maggie-Magpie. They had played together years ago. He had last seen her . . . how many years ago? Twelve? Something like that. She was the first person he told about his new discovery, which he would later learn was the Bohemian Ideal system. She was the first person to ever hear him rant about Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and (above all things) Love. How ironic.
"What do I do?" he asked the songbird. "I mean, I know what I have to do. I have to marry her. Damned if I'll let Alphonse have anything!
"But I promise, Satine, I won't love her. I won't even sing to her."
Then Christian sang a song for Satine, just made up on the spot. As usual, the melody came straight from his heart, making him cry.
"Since you've gone I been lost without a trace.
I dream at night- I can only see your face.
I look around but it's you I can't replace.
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace.
I keep crying, 'Baby, baby, please!'
"Tell me what it takes to let you go!
Tell me how the pain's supposed to go.
Tell me how it is that you can sleep in the night
without thinking you lost everything
that was good in your life to the toss of the dice . . .
"Tell me what it takes to let you go.
"When you don't look back
I guess the feelings start to fade away . . ."
o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o
*Credit: The first song is from "I Wish It Would Rain". I have the version by Dogstar. (Cool band!) Where it says, "my girl has left me behind and gone away" it's actually supposed to be, "my girl has found another and gone away". Entirely inappropriate, eh? Totally worthy of a change. And where it says, "I'm a man and I've got my pride" I think it's supposed to be "I'm a man; I ain't got no pride" but that just makes no sense, even within the context of the actual song.
The songs at the end are butchered versions of "Every Breath You Take" by the Police and "What It Takes" by Aerosmith. The title is from "Here Comes My Girl" by Tom Petty, referring to the introduction of Meg. I swear to God, the Moulin Rouge fans are going to form a mob and lynch me. The rest of this story should show you why.
Thank you to the following people, who left reviews: Ami-chan; Brown-eyes, ChristineCS. You really made my day!