*+MoJo+*- New Chapter! Yay! Sorry it took so long. I was on holiday for a
month. Thanks for the reviews. They were encouraging. Keep Em coming! Have
fun with this one!
Disclaimer: I don¹t own Moulin Rouge. If I did, I would be swashbuckling with Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp in the mighty Caribbean. ;)
Enjoy!
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Satine gasped. Inside, her heart broke. However outside, she kept a stern face. "I must get him to leave," she thought. "If he leaves, he won¹t be killed."
Christian eyed her with eyes that were once filled with an endless love, but that were now filled with hate, regret, and remorse. "I've come to pay my bill."
Satine retained her composure. "You shouldn't be here, Christian. Just leave." She brushed past him through the door, and left the room in hopes of drive him to leave the Moulin Rouge. Much to her dismay, Christian followed her. She could not take it. The tears slowly fell outside of her consciousness, and her breaths came shorter and farther apart.
Christian was still pursuing her. "You made me believe that you loved me. Why shouldn't I pay you?"
Satine could not handle this. What could she do? "Please Christian." Satine faintly heard Marie's voice. It sounded as if it were coming from a completely different world. "She¹s got to get on the stage!"
Satine searched her now blank mind for something to say. Something to make all of the pain and sadness go away. There were no words to be found. In a mindless stupor, she climbed the stairs to the stage where she was once the "Sparkling Diamond". As she climbed the old, faintly familiar stairs, Christian's hands grabbed her waist, but it was not as he had done before. Not in his usual tender, heartfelt caress, but in a beastly, angry, grip, so unlike him.
"You did your job so very, very well." The hurt and anger in his voice were obvious to her. "Why can't I pay you like everyone else does?"
Though she was not searching for them, the words came. "Don't Christian. There's no point." She paused and looked into his eyes. Looked for the Christian that would always love her, that would never hurt her. She could not find that Christian anywhere in his cold, hard exterior. "Just leave."
She continued up the stairs, and prayed that Christian would just leave, and spare Satine and himself the tragedy of his premature death. Nevertheless, Christian pursued her still.
Up ahead Satine saw Warner brandish his prized possession, his gun. A scream escaped her aching body. "Go!" She hoped with every fiber of her fragile being that he would heed her warning, but he grabbed her with such force, all she could think about was the pain in her wrists.
"If it wasn't real, then why can't I pay you?"
Onstage Satine could hear Harold¹s boisterous voice. "Open the doors." For a moment Satine was snapped back to the reality of the play, but Christian's voice broke that reality and she was once again outside herself, living this lie of a life, and nightmare of an existence.
Christian gripped her frail wrists harder as he spoke, money in one hand. "Let me pay!"
Onstage Harold again recited his line. "Open the doors."
Christian clinched her wrists tighter as she tried to wiggle free of his monstrous grasp. "Let me pay. Tell me it wasn't real." Christian struggled to hold the pain and sadness in his voice back, but his sorrow was obvious.
She fell to her knees both begging forgiveness and trying to free herself from the pain of his grasp.
"Tell me you don't love me."
Satine could hear a faint whisper. It was Harold instructing the stage hands to open the doors, yet again.
"Tell me you don't love me." Satine shook her head, pleading without words for Christian to stop, but he would not. He repeated himself yet again. "Tell me you don't love me!" Satine could no longer hold in the sobs. She let out a whimper.
Suddenly the stage door flew open and the bright lights hit her face like a brick wall. She stared into the lights not caring about anybody but Christian. The entire crowd fell silent, and then slowly a whisper ran through them. "Why are they whispering?" Satine thought, "What is wrong?" Satine became briefly lost in thought, but Harold's theatrical laughter ripped her out of it.
Harold's voice was filled with nerves, and he exchanged questioning glances with the Duke. He took a step forward and spoke. "Ha ha ha. I am not fooled. Though he has shaved off his beard, and adopts a disguise, mine eyes do not lie. For it is he; the same penniless sitar player. Driven mad by jealousy." The crowd laughed, assuming the play had momentarily become a comedy, but it was nothing of the sort.
The music began to play, and the dancers began to dance. Christian released one of Satine¹s wrists and helped her to her feet. Her hopes lifted, but they came crashing down, along with her body, as Christian threw her to the floor. Pain surged through Satine's frail frame, and she began to cough.
Christian pointed to Satine, lying pitifully on the floor, and looked at the Duke, who had been sitting, stunned, in the front row. "This woman is your¹s now," he said to the Duke. Christian threw the money he had been clutching in his hand, down at Satine. "I've paid my whore." The audience gasped, and a look of shock filled Harold's round face. Shifting his glance from the Duke to Satine, Christian spoke, his voice filled with pain and anger. "I owe you nothing. And you are nothing to me." He could hold back the sobs no longer. His next sentence came out in a jumble mixture of words and emotions. "Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love."
Christian walked off the stage, leaving Satine, tears streaming down her porcelain face. He stopped in front of the Duke. The two exchanged hate- filled glances, and then Christian continued his stride toward the door.
Harold, stunned to silence made his way towards Satine. Looking towards the audience, he continued the act. "This sitar player doesn't love you. See he flees the kingdom."
He reached Satine's side and kneeled down. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he spoke to her. "Pumpkin, it's for the best. You know it is. The show must go on."
Raising his voice, to speak to the audience, he stood. "And now my bride, it is time for you to raise your voice to the heavens, and say your wedding vows." As he said this he took Satine's hands and helped her to stand.
Tears flowing like rivers from her eyes she hung her head low into Harold's grasp. Harold looked at Christian just as he was removing the white jacket he had taken from the narcoleptic Argentinean. Harold separated his grasp from Satine and left her standing there, back towards the audience. As Harold began to speak his next line, another voice could be heard. Faintly at first, but then loud and clear.
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved in return."
Toulouse screamed the line with such force and gusto that one would never have guessed that it had taken him seven and a half weeks just to memorize it.
Satine stood still and a wave of hope washed over her. Christian stopped and stood in his place for a moment. Satine slowly turned, as she began to sing.
"Never knew, I could feel like this. It's like I've never seen the sky before."
Christian began walking again, anger and remorse painted his charming face.
"Want to vanish inside your kiss. Everyday I'm loving you, more and more." Satine sang with more force than she ever had before.
"Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing? Come back to me, and forgive everything." Apparently, it was too much force, because Satine lost her breath, and had to pause as a gasp filled her lungs.
Christian paused in his step and turned around, looking straight into Satine's eyes. She stared right back.
"Seasons may change, winter to spring," Satine stared deeply into Christian's eyes and whispered the next line, only to him. "I love you. Until the end of time." She remained still, hoping and praying that Christian would reply.
The entire theater was quite, not a sound to be heard, except for Satie's music. Satine's heart was a mix of hope and desperation, and the seconds that swam by seemed like an eternity in Hell.
Christian slowly closed his mouth, and then without thought, opened his lips and began to sing.
"Come what may," Satine let out a sigh of relief as a murmur ran through the crowd and all eyes slowly turned toward him as he slowly moved toward the stage.
"Come what may,
Come what may,
Come what may
I will love you."
Satine joined Christian in his song, harmonizing with his voice, and his heart.
"I will love you."
"Until my dying day. Come what may." Christian finally reached the stage and Satine's arms.
The Duke sat in the front row arms pulled tight around his body, chest heaving. His Hindi courtesan had not chosen the life of security; she had instead chosen the penniless sitar player.
"Come what may, I will love you, until my dying..."
Toulouse's scream again ripped through the play. "He's got a gun!" The audience again laughed at play, not knowing that none of this was scripted. After a series of events involving Toulouse, the Moulin Rouge dancers, and Warner, the gun ended up in the Duke's hand. He moved forward to shoot Satine and her lover, but the gun was kicked from his hand, and out of the Moulin Rouge forever.
The finale continued and the play ended.
Then the curtain fell along with Satine's spirit. What should she do? The Duke was a very powerful man, and he could have Christian killed with a mere snap of his fingers. Satine could not risk it. She had to hurt her one and only true love. She had no other choice. She was going to die in Christian's arms and lose his love forever.
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*End of Chapter*
Hope you liked it. In case you didn¹t notice that was one of the final scenes from the movie. I figured that if you are reading this you know what happens, so you know how Satine "dies" in Christian¹s arms.
PLEASE REVIEW!
Next chapter this week!
*+MoJo+*
Disclaimer: I don¹t own Moulin Rouge. If I did, I would be swashbuckling with Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp in the mighty Caribbean. ;)
Enjoy!
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Satine gasped. Inside, her heart broke. However outside, she kept a stern face. "I must get him to leave," she thought. "If he leaves, he won¹t be killed."
Christian eyed her with eyes that were once filled with an endless love, but that were now filled with hate, regret, and remorse. "I've come to pay my bill."
Satine retained her composure. "You shouldn't be here, Christian. Just leave." She brushed past him through the door, and left the room in hopes of drive him to leave the Moulin Rouge. Much to her dismay, Christian followed her. She could not take it. The tears slowly fell outside of her consciousness, and her breaths came shorter and farther apart.
Christian was still pursuing her. "You made me believe that you loved me. Why shouldn't I pay you?"
Satine could not handle this. What could she do? "Please Christian." Satine faintly heard Marie's voice. It sounded as if it were coming from a completely different world. "She¹s got to get on the stage!"
Satine searched her now blank mind for something to say. Something to make all of the pain and sadness go away. There were no words to be found. In a mindless stupor, she climbed the stairs to the stage where she was once the "Sparkling Diamond". As she climbed the old, faintly familiar stairs, Christian's hands grabbed her waist, but it was not as he had done before. Not in his usual tender, heartfelt caress, but in a beastly, angry, grip, so unlike him.
"You did your job so very, very well." The hurt and anger in his voice were obvious to her. "Why can't I pay you like everyone else does?"
Though she was not searching for them, the words came. "Don't Christian. There's no point." She paused and looked into his eyes. Looked for the Christian that would always love her, that would never hurt her. She could not find that Christian anywhere in his cold, hard exterior. "Just leave."
She continued up the stairs, and prayed that Christian would just leave, and spare Satine and himself the tragedy of his premature death. Nevertheless, Christian pursued her still.
Up ahead Satine saw Warner brandish his prized possession, his gun. A scream escaped her aching body. "Go!" She hoped with every fiber of her fragile being that he would heed her warning, but he grabbed her with such force, all she could think about was the pain in her wrists.
"If it wasn't real, then why can't I pay you?"
Onstage Satine could hear Harold¹s boisterous voice. "Open the doors." For a moment Satine was snapped back to the reality of the play, but Christian's voice broke that reality and she was once again outside herself, living this lie of a life, and nightmare of an existence.
Christian gripped her frail wrists harder as he spoke, money in one hand. "Let me pay!"
Onstage Harold again recited his line. "Open the doors."
Christian clinched her wrists tighter as she tried to wiggle free of his monstrous grasp. "Let me pay. Tell me it wasn't real." Christian struggled to hold the pain and sadness in his voice back, but his sorrow was obvious.
She fell to her knees both begging forgiveness and trying to free herself from the pain of his grasp.
"Tell me you don't love me."
Satine could hear a faint whisper. It was Harold instructing the stage hands to open the doors, yet again.
"Tell me you don't love me." Satine shook her head, pleading without words for Christian to stop, but he would not. He repeated himself yet again. "Tell me you don't love me!" Satine could no longer hold in the sobs. She let out a whimper.
Suddenly the stage door flew open and the bright lights hit her face like a brick wall. She stared into the lights not caring about anybody but Christian. The entire crowd fell silent, and then slowly a whisper ran through them. "Why are they whispering?" Satine thought, "What is wrong?" Satine became briefly lost in thought, but Harold's theatrical laughter ripped her out of it.
Harold's voice was filled with nerves, and he exchanged questioning glances with the Duke. He took a step forward and spoke. "Ha ha ha. I am not fooled. Though he has shaved off his beard, and adopts a disguise, mine eyes do not lie. For it is he; the same penniless sitar player. Driven mad by jealousy." The crowd laughed, assuming the play had momentarily become a comedy, but it was nothing of the sort.
The music began to play, and the dancers began to dance. Christian released one of Satine¹s wrists and helped her to her feet. Her hopes lifted, but they came crashing down, along with her body, as Christian threw her to the floor. Pain surged through Satine's frail frame, and she began to cough.
Christian pointed to Satine, lying pitifully on the floor, and looked at the Duke, who had been sitting, stunned, in the front row. "This woman is your¹s now," he said to the Duke. Christian threw the money he had been clutching in his hand, down at Satine. "I've paid my whore." The audience gasped, and a look of shock filled Harold's round face. Shifting his glance from the Duke to Satine, Christian spoke, his voice filled with pain and anger. "I owe you nothing. And you are nothing to me." He could hold back the sobs no longer. His next sentence came out in a jumble mixture of words and emotions. "Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love."
Christian walked off the stage, leaving Satine, tears streaming down her porcelain face. He stopped in front of the Duke. The two exchanged hate- filled glances, and then Christian continued his stride toward the door.
Harold, stunned to silence made his way towards Satine. Looking towards the audience, he continued the act. "This sitar player doesn't love you. See he flees the kingdom."
He reached Satine's side and kneeled down. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he spoke to her. "Pumpkin, it's for the best. You know it is. The show must go on."
Raising his voice, to speak to the audience, he stood. "And now my bride, it is time for you to raise your voice to the heavens, and say your wedding vows." As he said this he took Satine's hands and helped her to stand.
Tears flowing like rivers from her eyes she hung her head low into Harold's grasp. Harold looked at Christian just as he was removing the white jacket he had taken from the narcoleptic Argentinean. Harold separated his grasp from Satine and left her standing there, back towards the audience. As Harold began to speak his next line, another voice could be heard. Faintly at first, but then loud and clear.
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved in return."
Toulouse screamed the line with such force and gusto that one would never have guessed that it had taken him seven and a half weeks just to memorize it.
Satine stood still and a wave of hope washed over her. Christian stopped and stood in his place for a moment. Satine slowly turned, as she began to sing.
"Never knew, I could feel like this. It's like I've never seen the sky before."
Christian began walking again, anger and remorse painted his charming face.
"Want to vanish inside your kiss. Everyday I'm loving you, more and more." Satine sang with more force than she ever had before.
"Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing? Come back to me, and forgive everything." Apparently, it was too much force, because Satine lost her breath, and had to pause as a gasp filled her lungs.
Christian paused in his step and turned around, looking straight into Satine's eyes. She stared right back.
"Seasons may change, winter to spring," Satine stared deeply into Christian's eyes and whispered the next line, only to him. "I love you. Until the end of time." She remained still, hoping and praying that Christian would reply.
The entire theater was quite, not a sound to be heard, except for Satie's music. Satine's heart was a mix of hope and desperation, and the seconds that swam by seemed like an eternity in Hell.
Christian slowly closed his mouth, and then without thought, opened his lips and began to sing.
"Come what may," Satine let out a sigh of relief as a murmur ran through the crowd and all eyes slowly turned toward him as he slowly moved toward the stage.
"Come what may,
Come what may,
Come what may
I will love you."
Satine joined Christian in his song, harmonizing with his voice, and his heart.
"I will love you."
"Until my dying day. Come what may." Christian finally reached the stage and Satine's arms.
The Duke sat in the front row arms pulled tight around his body, chest heaving. His Hindi courtesan had not chosen the life of security; she had instead chosen the penniless sitar player.
"Come what may, I will love you, until my dying..."
Toulouse's scream again ripped through the play. "He's got a gun!" The audience again laughed at play, not knowing that none of this was scripted. After a series of events involving Toulouse, the Moulin Rouge dancers, and Warner, the gun ended up in the Duke's hand. He moved forward to shoot Satine and her lover, but the gun was kicked from his hand, and out of the Moulin Rouge forever.
The finale continued and the play ended.
Then the curtain fell along with Satine's spirit. What should she do? The Duke was a very powerful man, and he could have Christian killed with a mere snap of his fingers. Satine could not risk it. She had to hurt her one and only true love. She had no other choice. She was going to die in Christian's arms and lose his love forever.
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*End of Chapter*
Hope you liked it. In case you didn¹t notice that was one of the final scenes from the movie. I figured that if you are reading this you know what happens, so you know how Satine "dies" in Christian¹s arms.
PLEASE REVIEW!
Next chapter this week!
*+MoJo+*
