Christian stopped outside the cemetery gates and shuddered at the sight of all the grave stones and memorials in neat rows in the garden. It hurt him to think she was here, she was being put here today, it was her funeral. He opened the rusty gate and suddenly realised if he was caught he would be hanged at the noose, he gulped remembering the Duke's final words he'd heard him say after she'd died and he'd gone into hiding.

"That wretched writer, if I see him ever again, I will make sure he will be cut and quartered in front of a cheering audience, then he can be with his beloved Courtesan"

Christian crept stealthily towards the voices he could hear, as he got closer he started to see the familiar sightings of some Moulin Rouge girls, though they were wearing black, faded gowns not their usual colourful party dresses. He couldn't help but think this wasn't an improvement, their faces were grey and they were each holding handkerchiefs and crying dismally.
As he neared her grave he saw the fat man whose usually red face was white and miserable. The man turned his head and Christian darted behind a tree looking to see if the man had seen him. He sighed in relief when he turned back and listened to the vicar's preaching.

Christian stayed behind that tree gazing at the funeral party until it had ended, he dared not go further forwards in case the man, identified as Harold Ziddler saw him and captured him for money. That was all Harold cared about, money. He shook his head, money never brought any good, it only brought the destruction of the mind and replaced it with greed.

He was thinking of Satine lying in a coffin beneath the dove white grave stone and he felt the tears come to his eyes, why did she have to die? It wasn't right, why her? When something made him listen.

In the distance, he could hear two people, a mans voice, which was Harold's and woman which he recognised but couldn't place.
They were talking about him; he listened, clutching the tree taking in every word with his hand over his mouth to stop him from gasping.

"So sad isn't it" said Harold as he walked by the tree with a woman at his arm.
"Yes" said the woman " she was " very" she choked a little a quickly coughed and wiped her eyes, " very talented, yes very talented"
"Oh Marie, I know this must be difficult for you, you were a mother to her you shared"
"Shared her dreams, all she had was dreams" the woman stopped, "that was until she met him" The woman had to reach for her handkerchief and wipe her eyes once again.
Harold nodded and they continued walking down to the gate, Christian began to sob knowing what Marie had said was true, he was the source of her dreams.

Just as Christian was about to sit down on the wet harsh ground, he heard something quite extraordinary that made him run

and catch up with them.

"The child, what happened to it?" asked Marie as they reached the gate. Harold stopped walking and stepped next to a grave stone of a little girl.

"It was drowned Marie" he said finally and stroked away the moss that had been nesting on the girl's grave.
"Harold" whispered Marie, "drowned, its dead. Oh no, poor Satine, the poor writer"
"he didn't know she was pregnant," said Harold sadly and sat down on a stone bench in memory of someone.

Christian felt a pang in his chest and stopped walking, struggling to breathe. "Pregnant?" he whispered, "Satine, darling Satine was with a..." he gulped and the air returned to him though he felt dizzy and weak "child". he managed to say and pressed his head in a gap between some trees neighbouring the bench.

Marie joined him and they sat in silence listening to the harsh wind whip amongst the flowers on the stones.
"You could have given it to me Harold, I could have taken it, why was it killed?" she finally asked breaking the awkward moment.

Harold put his chubby face in his matching chubby hands, and sighed, they sat in silence once more shivering but refusing to huddle together.

"It wasn't killed Marie" he said finally not looking at her.
Marie felt tears of happiness fill her eyes.
"Oh thank goodness, I couldn't have lived with my poor baby's child being murdered, oh I couldn't, where is it?" She stood up all set to rescue the baby and take it away where she could safely raise it, but then she sat down and remembered.
"It's the writers isn't it."

Christian watched, he waited and when he saw Harold's chubby face lift and give a short nod he felt himself flood with joy, he had a child? A son? A daughter? A child, his and Satine's.

"Ah" Marie said and sat down, she suddenly looked pained and scared. "The Duke! Oh Harold does the Duke know? He will kill

the child if he knows of it's existence."

Harold slowly brought himself to look at her, tears clouded his ageing face and his hands trembled as they grabbed Marie's bony shoulders.
"Marie" he said shaking and Marie grabbed his hands and held them tightly in hers.
"Yes Harold what is wrong? So long as the Duke doesn't know of it we can save the child. Give it an upbringing, a life..." she waited, trusting him for an answer.

"Marie." Harold said finally " the Duke has the child his man servant is taking it to England where the Duke is expecting it."

Marie gasped, and tears rolled down her old cheeks. She sobbed, but once again wiped her eyes and face and sat up straight.
"Will it die Harold?"

Harold looked at her.
"No Marie, it will be murdered by the Duke himself, most likely drowned."

Christian felt himself sway inside, his stomach lurched and he stumbled out of the trees and collapsed in a murky puddle which his own tears were being added to.

Marie looked up from Harold and gasped at the sight of the deceased girls lover in front of her.
"This is the father isn't it" she said going over to Christian who had fainted and was breathing rapidly and Harold nodded

"He must have heard" she pushed a piece of hair behind Christian's ear, "heard what we said, the poor boy"
"Mm" said Harold who stood up and crouched down next to Christian, "Harold it will take a week to get to England, the ferry is due in six days, we can make it and save the child"
"No we cannot!" said Harold who stood up briskly " the child will be dead Marie, the servant will have killed it already you saw what he was like."

Marie knew that wasn't so, she gave Christian a short kick with her boot in a very un-lady like fashion. Christian spluttered and spat out saliva.
"Charming" said Marie.
He sat up and rubbed his head. "No time for that sunshine" she said and helped him to his feet, " I'm only doing this because I loved Satine, she was like a daughter to me, so I am not going to let her child die."

Christian rubbed his head and nodded.
"It's my child" he said, "and that child is not going to die while I'm alive"

There you go please r and r!
I love Moulin Rouge its a gr8 film and I hope you enjoyed reading this fic!
LightningLover xx