Chapter Fourteen: Bedtime Stories
A.N. Hello again! I really appreciate all the nice reviews IÕve gotten for this fic, especially with it being my first one. There might not be that much original story in this chapter, just to warn you, but I think itÕs kind of cute. For those of you who are just joining us, Satine just gave birth to a baby girl named Cassandra BrookeÉ
Four Years Later:
Christian sat at his typewriter, staring out the window at a star filled sky. Suddenly, Cassandra came running into the room and throwing herself at him, breaking the peaceful night. Satine quickly followed her.
ÒSomeone wonÕt go to sleep until sheÕs had one of her dadÕs special bedtime storiesÓ Satine explained why the four-year-old was still awake. ÒDaddy, tell me the story about Paris! Mommy says that you have a good one!Ó Cassandra was bouncing up and down on the bed.
ÒAlright.Ó Christian sat back in his chair and started to tell the story. He knew exactly which one Satine had told their daughter about. ÒA long time ago, before you were born, I used to live in England. My family was very rich, but I decided I wanted to become a bohemian writer.Ó
CassandraÕs question was to be expected. ÒWhatÕs a bohemian?Ó Christian tried his best to explain it to his daughter. ÒWell, a bohemian is a person who doesnÕt believe that you need a lot of money to be happy. For them, all you need to be happy is four things-freedom, beauty, truth, and love. Those are the things I wanted to write about. There was one problem, though. Even though I believed in love above all other things, I had never been in love with anyone!Ó
ÒWhat about Mommy?Ó Cassandra asked. Christian continued. ÒWell, I didnÕt know her yet. IÕm getting there. The first day I moved into my apartment, a sleeping man fell through my ceiling.Ó Cassandra was obviously confused by this. ÒSee, he had a sickness that caused him to fall asleep, and the people in the apartment above mine had been practicing a play. You know youÕre uncle Toulouse?Ó he asked. Cassandra nodded. ÒWell, thatÕs when I met him. And well, to make a long story short, I ended up getting the job of writer for their play. The only thing we had left to do was convince your uncle Harold that my writing was good enough. ThatÕs where your mother comes in.Ó Christian paused for a moment. How do you explain the Moulin Rouge to a four-year-old? He didnÕt think it would be a good idea to tell Cassandra how her mother had been a courtesan. Luckily, Satine spoke up.
ÒYes, thatÕs the night your father and I met. You see, at the time, I was a, um, a dancer, at this nightclub. You know that red windmill on the dresser in your room? Well, thatÕs a model of the nightclub that I worked at-the Moulin Rouge. It means red windmill in French.Ó Satine explained as she saw her daughter trying to understand the foreign words. ÒAnyway, that night, I was supposed to meet with an evil duke. He had a lot of money, and we needed so that we could put on the play your father had been hired to write. But I ended up meeting your father first. By the end of that night, I had fallen in love with him.Ó Cassandra looked at her mother. ÒThatÕs it? That was kind of shortÉÓ she said. Christian laughed. ÒNo, no. ThereÕs more. See, that duke was a very mean man. He wanted your mother to be in love with him and keep her all to himself. He did some very mean things, but your mother and I came through it more in love then ever. But your mother was very sick.Ó Christian felt himself choking up. He had not given SatineÕs illness a second thought since she had been cured of it so long ago. ÒSee, your mommy had a disease called consumption. She would cough a lot, and faint sometimes. After we put on our play for the first time, she fainted. Your uncle Harold told us to come here so she could get better.Ó
ÒDid she?Ó CassandraÕs face was full of worry for her mother. Satine giggled. ÒWell, you donÕt see me coughing or fainting now, do you?Ó she asked. Cassandra shook her head, and Satine finished the story. ÒAfter your father and I got to America, the mean duke came back. But this time, we caught him and the police took him away. After awhile, your father and I got married and ended up having you. And that, my dear, is the end which means itÕs bedtime.Ó Cassandra sighed and followed Satine back to her bedroom.
After about twenty minutes, Satine returned. She got into bed and Christian took her in his arms. ÒWant me to tell you your bedtime story now?Ó Christian playfully asked. Even after all of the events in SatineÕs life since her return from withdrawal, she still couldnÕt get to sleep without hearing that story. Satine giggled and nodded. She felt a little silly, having just told a story to her four year old daughter and now having to have her husband tell one to her. Christian began the story. ÒOnce upon a time in a far away land, there was a beautiful princess. Although there were many other girls in the kingdom, she was the most beautiful of all. Everyone in the kingdom loved her. Do you know what her name was?Ó Satine smiled and nodded. ÒSatine.Ó Christian continued the story. ÒThatÕs right. Her name was Satine. Now, princess Satine lived in a very nice castle. She had gold things and silver things and diamond things. Every night she had men lining up to buy her love with diamonds and gold. But the princess was not happy.Ó Satine feigned worry as she looked into ChristianÕs eyes. ÒWhy?Ó
Christian laughed as he continued. ÒPrincess Satine wasnÕt happy because she never had anyone who really loved her. She hoped that one day someone would come who loved her for who she was, not just for the gold and silver and diamonds. But night after night more men kept coming who were only interested in one night with the princess for her jewels. Princess Satine was very sad. Ò Satine put on a look that looked as if she was about to cry. ÒBut then, one night, a poor poet came to the castle. He didnÕt care about the princessÕs money. He saw princess Satine and instantly fell in love with her. It wasnÕt long before princess Satine fell in love with the poet as well. Now she was very happy. She knew that she had found someone who loved her for who she really was. And the princess and the poet lived happily ever after. Ò
ÒThanks, Christian. Ò Satine said as she yawned. Christian laughed. ÒI think my princess is getting a little tired. Good night, diamond. I love you.Ó
ÒGood night, my poor poet. I love you too.Ó With that, Satine turned over onto her side and turned out the light. Slowly, both Christian and Satine drifted off to sleep as they did every night, happy.
The End
A.N. Once again, thanks for all the support and good reviews! I might write a sequel to this eventually.
