That was the last thing she remembered before everything around her went dark. She'd been vaguely aware of the cries of anguish and the tight grip on her, the heartbreak almost tangible in the air.
It had taken some convincing on her part, but she'd done a good enough job pleading her case to André to enlist his help to pull this off. She wasn't sure what this would all mean for her long term, being a kept woman of sorts. She'd probably never be able to perform again in order to keep a low profile. Would she waste away without any form of artistic expression in her life? Would she find this all worth it in a year or two?
She'd have to. She couldn't turn back now. Christian would have died if he'd carried on the way he had been, either by the Duke's hand or his own. Perhaps he'd learn - grow from this experience and find something to ground himself and keep his emotions in check. Love alone didn't keep a roof over her head or put food on the table. As much as she'd have loved to revel in the fantasy Christian had built, it wasn't realistic. Saving the Moulin Rouge and his life were more important than her relationship with Christian. Besides, she'd have a good life. André could be cruel, but if she put in the effort... She could make something of this new life. Find a way to express her gratitude to him for the opportunity and for his generosity. To keep her fresh and necessary so he wouldn't tire of her.
She'd collapsed on schedule at the opening night of the show, doing her part to sell it and letting the medicine she'd taken to slow her heart do the rest. Perhaps, in time she could learn to love André... And with time, she can only hope she'll be able to forgive herself.
Satine's not sure how long she'd been out, the feeling of soft sheets quite a difference from the cold stage. She begins to stir slowly, her body still feeling more sluggish than normal.
A sigh escapes her lips, shifting and finally opening her eyes to face her new reality. ]
[ He had to hand it to her, it was quite the scheme. It made him feel a bit proud, all things considered, and while her motives were clear enough, he still came out on top. And there was something deliciously amusing in seeing Christian ripped down like that.
When the night came, André sat and watched. He'd been the one to call for help. Help, of course, meant someone that worked for him to take Satine away from watchful eyes. A doctor, a man under André's thumb, had declared the best thing for the body was burning - between the disease and headstone and coffin costs, it was simpler. All it had done was ensure no open caskets of burials, and while Satine's family mourned for her, she was whisked away to the country in the south of France.
A simple manor by André's standards, it still stood grand and lavishly furnished, surrounded by a garden. It would make a good home for Satine while Andre went to and from the city on business. It's sunset when Satine finally stirs, and a maid fetches the master of the house. In his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, the duke sits on the bed, taking Satine's hand in his. ]
[Over his cold, dead corpse. Those five words echoed in her mind since the moment she'd broken Christian's heart. It had become a new anthem for her life. Everything was no longer about love, but back to survival. And here was that same man who'd uttered those words, seated and holding her hand in some show of comfort she can only guess. It was confusing to her already confused senses, attempting to acclimate to the new surroundings. A quick glance out the window answers a question she didn't need to ask.
She was no longer in Paris.
That was for the best, truly. The temptation to check on the family she'd built... To check on Christian-- it would be too much. Satine was dead. The sooner she came to terms with that loss and began her own mourning period, the sooner she could figure out how she fit into André's life now. Would she be a plaything he kept around locked away in the countryside to amuse himself when the mood struck? Would he leave her locked up here when he tired of her? Would she be allowed out without an escort? Would she be allowed out at all? Would he honor what he'd proposed before he'd found out about Christian?
Whatever fate awaited her at the behest of the Duke, she would face it with dignity. This was the path in life she'd chosen, she could only hope Christian would find his own to a happier ending.
Taking a steadying breath, she keeps her hand in his and adjusts to a sitting position. It takes a little more effort than she'd expected, but now wasn't the moment to look weak. Licking her dry lips, she finally looks at her benefactor and now sole source of anything above life on the streets. ]
It was far stronger than I was expecting. [ Really, she shouldn't have had any expectations given she'd never done something so dramatic. It takes another moment for the fog to clear, finding the right words more difficult than usual. ] Thank you... Thank you for everything. [ It's hard to say knowing how much pain she left in her wake, but André had done more than he really needed to. He'd indulged her and gave her a clean break in one fell swoop. Perhaps one day she'd find a way to apologize to Zidler for taking advantage of something he'd confided in her, a way to set her death to look like a quick onset of consumption. He'd already lost one person he'd cared deeply about to the disease and she'd only added to his eternal grief. ]
[ Just because he's not overly kind doesn't mean he isn't a gentleman. And surely it would help Satine to settle if she were greeted with an act of warmth rather than distance. They are, after all, in this together now.
At least until he tires of her.
But for now, revelling in winning is a fantastic thing. ]
You needn't thank me at all. It was, after all, your stroke of genius.
[ A maid came in then, with a tray of cheese and fruit and something to drink. Once she sets it down, André sends her off to run a bath. ]
Have a little something to get your strength back. Once you've had a chance to freshen up, I'll show you the estate. You are the lady of the house now, after all.
[ Yes, it was... Wasn't it. She's honestly not sure how she'd have handled facing him if he'd approached her with an air of arrogance - if he'd thrown her decision in her face. With time, she'd hope to be able to ask him to have someone look in on Christian for her, but that would be quite far down the road. Who knows if he'd even stay in Paris? Would it all be too much for him? Or would he manage to finish his book and capture their memories in the poetic way only he could. It's thoughts for another time, a time when she doesn't need her wits about her like she does with André. She always felt as though he were three steps ahead of her and it was unnerving.
Satine murmurs a soft thank you to the maid before letting his words sink in. She'd never been the proper lady of a house, not even sure if she'd be any good at it. Sure, she'd basically run the Moulin Rouge, keeping the dancers in line and helping them through their own issues... But this felt different. Far more proper. It had all seemed like a far off proposal, fantastical in a sense when he'd first mentioned something like this if she'd agreed to be with only him. But, she'd let love blind her and that dream had felt unattainable. As though she'd tarnished it beyond repair.
It was more than she'd expected and she needed to be appreciative of what's awaiting her beyond the bedroom door. It's the answer to all her prayers and security for, hopefully, the rest of her life. Her gaze moves from the food for a moment before falling back to him. ]
[ If she'd had a chance to see this side of him, genuine or not, she might've been willing to consider giving him her heart eventually. She was vulnerable right now, though. Satine needed to be more aware of herself than usual. Thoughts like that could be dangerous.
Watching him rise, she adjusts on the bed and gives a nod in response. To say this was all a little overwhelming as the reality sank in around her was an understatement. She doesn't give it much time, rising once he leaves to set about getting ready. Ignoring the stiffness still in her body, she takes a few pieces of fruit before slipping into the bath. At least this was familiar. Eventually, she's escorted by one of the maids in a light blue bustled dress. They'd done her hair in some elegant up-do and she still felt as though she was on borrowed time. That this was somehow a dream and she hadn't chosen her own security over love. ]
[ It's not something she should get used to. For Andre, the honeymoon period will pass quicly, and she'll find that he is in and out often. He does, after all, deal mostly in Paris and travelling to and from the city on a daily basis is too exhausting. She will have plenty of time to get to know her new status, and he'll do what he can to introduce her to the society ladies in the area.
But that can wait.
When she's ready, she will be escorted to a library of sorts on the main floor. There are shelves and a desk and a fireplace that's been lit, and Andre is sipping a glass of wine while he waits. ]
[ One day, she'd lose his interest. She recognized that. But, she wanted to commit to this. She'd find ways to fill her time here and keep her thoughts off of Paris and those who might still reside there. No, she'd work on continuing to get to know those who staffed the estate. She'd make sure they'd have as good a life as possible - to only ever experience kindness and gratitude from her. It'd be far easier than the introductions to society, having to learn new rules to operate by and ways to behave. And if she thought it through, the kindness to the staff would probably be one of those rules she'd be breaking before knowing it.
The room she's brought to is stunning, just like everything else in the house. André had good taste and paid attention to details. It was something she could appreciate in this particular setting. She makes a mental note to come back and delve further into some of the titles on the shelves if allowed. While she didn't have the time to really pursue any passions outside of her work, she'd had to educate herself in order to be able to converse with the high caliber of men she tended to bring in. While most wanted only the physical, there were a select few that preferred conversation. ]
Refreshed, thank you. This is all stunning, André.
[ Of course it's stunning. He doesn't say it, but it's clear on his face that he agrees. He stands and extends a hand to her, giving her an obvious once-over to make sure it all fits well. ]
This is your life now. I know, I know, you had a fondness for the club and your friends, but doesn't this feel much better? This life suits you, my dear.
[ She automatically moves to the extended hand, her skirts shifting around her in the only way expensive fabric could. It was divine and knowing herself, she could easily get lost in this life. She could forget everything she'd done and everyone she hurt to get here. Her voice is steady when she speaks, no hint of doubt seeping in. ]
That life is behind me. I wish them all nothing but the best, however, I'm looking forward to the new adventure.
[ There was nowhere she could go in the club. No other heights she could achieve within those walls. This was the right choice. She knew that and in her weakest moments, she'd wrap it around herself like a protective shroud. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
For Monroth:
That was the last thing she remembered before everything around her went dark. She'd been vaguely aware of the cries of anguish and the tight grip on her, the heartbreak almost tangible in the air.
It had taken some convincing on her part, but she'd done a good enough job pleading her case to André to enlist his help to pull this off. She wasn't sure what this would all mean for her long term, being a kept woman of sorts. She'd probably never be able to perform again in order to keep a low profile. Would she waste away without any form of artistic expression in her life? Would she find this all worth it in a year or two?
She'd have to. She couldn't turn back now. Christian would have died if he'd carried on the way he had been, either by the Duke's hand or his own. Perhaps he'd learn - grow from this experience and find something to ground himself and keep his emotions in check. Love alone didn't keep a roof over her head or put food on the table. As much as she'd have loved to revel in the fantasy Christian had built, it wasn't realistic. Saving the Moulin Rouge and his life were more important than her relationship with Christian. Besides, she'd have a good life. André could be cruel, but if she put in the effort... She could make something of this new life. Find a way to express her gratitude to him for the opportunity and for his generosity. To keep her fresh and necessary so he wouldn't tire of her.
She'd collapsed on schedule at the opening night of the show, doing her part to sell it and letting the medicine she'd taken to slow her heart do the rest. Perhaps, in time she could learn to love André... And with time, she can only hope she'll be able to forgive herself.
Satine's not sure how long she'd been out, the feeling of soft sheets quite a difference from the cold stage. She begins to stir slowly, her body still feeling more sluggish than normal.
A sigh escapes her lips, shifting and finally opening her eyes to face her new reality. ]
no subject
When the night came, André sat and watched. He'd been the one to call for help. Help, of course, meant someone that worked for him to take Satine away from watchful eyes. A doctor, a man under André's thumb, had declared the best thing for the body was burning - between the disease and headstone and coffin costs, it was simpler. All it had done was ensure no open caskets of burials, and while Satine's family mourned for her, she was whisked away to the country in the south of France.
A simple manor by André's standards, it still stood grand and lavishly furnished, surrounded by a garden. It would make a good home for Satine while Andre went to and from the city on business. It's sunset when Satine finally stirs, and a maid fetches the master of the house. In his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, the duke sits on the bed, taking Satine's hand in his. ]
I was beginning to think you'd never come round.
/waves hands about timeline things
She was no longer in Paris.
That was for the best, truly. The temptation to check on the family she'd built... To check on Christian-- it would be too much. Satine was dead. The sooner she came to terms with that loss and began her own mourning period, the sooner she could figure out how she fit into André's life now. Would she be a plaything he kept around locked away in the countryside to amuse himself when the mood struck? Would he leave her locked up here when he tired of her? Would she be allowed out without an escort? Would she be allowed out at all? Would he honor what he'd proposed before he'd found out about Christian?
Whatever fate awaited her at the behest of the Duke, she would face it with dignity. This was the path in life she'd chosen, she could only hope Christian would find his own to a happier ending.
Taking a steadying breath, she keeps her hand in his and adjusts to a sitting position. It takes a little more effort than she'd expected, but now wasn't the moment to look weak. Licking her dry lips, she finally looks at her benefactor and now sole source of anything above life on the streets. ]
It was far stronger than I was expecting. [ Really, she shouldn't have had any expectations given she'd never done something so dramatic. It takes another moment for the fog to clear, finding the right words more difficult than usual. ] Thank you... Thank you for everything. [ It's hard to say knowing how much pain she left in her wake, but André had done more than he really needed to. He'd indulged her and gave her a clean break in one fell swoop. Perhaps one day she'd find a way to apologize to Zidler for taking advantage of something he'd confided in her, a way to set her death to look like a quick onset of consumption. He'd already lost one person he'd cared deeply about to the disease and she'd only added to his eternal grief. ]
no subject
At least until he tires of her.
But for now, revelling in winning is a fantastic thing. ]
You needn't thank me at all. It was, after all, your stroke of genius.
[ A maid came in then, with a tray of cheese and fruit and something to drink. Once she sets it down, André sends her off to run a bath. ]
Have a little something to get your strength back. Once you've had a chance to freshen up, I'll show you the estate. You are the lady of the house now, after all.
no subject
Satine murmurs a soft thank you to the maid before letting his words sink in. She'd never been the proper lady of a house, not even sure if she'd be any good at it. Sure, she'd basically run the Moulin Rouge, keeping the dancers in line and helping them through their own issues... But this felt different. Far more proper. It had all seemed like a far off proposal, fantastical in a sense when he'd first mentioned something like this if she'd agreed to be with only him. But, she'd let love blind her and that dream had felt unattainable. As though she'd tarnished it beyond repair.
It was more than she'd expected and she needed to be appreciative of what's awaiting her beyond the bedroom door. It's the answer to all her prayers and security for, hopefully, the rest of her life. Her gaze moves from the food for a moment before falling back to him. ]
Of course, I won't keep you waiting long.
no subject
Of course, my dear. We've got all the time in the world.
[ He stands, adjusting his waistcoat as he does. His image is everything, even in the privacy of his own home. ]
When you're ready, one of the girls can bring you down. Should you need anything, they are at your beck and call.
no subject
Watching him rise, she adjusts on the bed and gives a nod in response. To say this was all a little overwhelming as the reality sank in around her was an understatement. She doesn't give it much time, rising once he leaves to set about getting ready. Ignoring the stiffness still in her body, she takes a few pieces of fruit before slipping into the bath. At least this was familiar. Eventually, she's escorted by one of the maids in a light blue bustled dress. They'd done her hair in some elegant up-do and she still felt as though she was on borrowed time. That this was somehow a dream and she hadn't chosen her own security over love. ]
no subject
But that can wait.
When she's ready, she will be escorted to a library of sorts on the main floor. There are shelves and a desk and a fireplace that's been lit, and Andre is sipping a glass of wine while he waits. ]
You look wonderful. How are you feeling?
no subject
The room she's brought to is stunning, just like everything else in the house. André had good taste and paid attention to details. It was something she could appreciate in this particular setting. She makes a mental note to come back and delve further into some of the titles on the shelves if allowed. While she didn't have the time to really pursue any passions outside of her work, she'd had to educate herself in order to be able to converse with the high caliber of men she tended to bring in. While most wanted only the physical, there were a select few that preferred conversation. ]
Refreshed, thank you. This is all stunning, André.
no subject
This is your life now. I know, I know, you had a fondness for the club and your friends, but doesn't this feel much better? This life suits you, my dear.
no subject
That life is behind me. I wish them all nothing but the best, however, I'm looking forward to the new adventure.
[ There was nowhere she could go in the club. No other heights she could achieve within those walls. This was the right choice. She knew that and in her weakest moments, she'd wrap it around herself like a protective shroud. ]