Moulin Rouge 2: Lady Marmalade
by Sailor Miaka
Author's Note: Hi all! This is my first Moulin Rouge fic. I know that my idea isn't too original but there are a few twists. Also the name of my charector is Velvette, a name which was inspried by a fanfic whose name and author i can not remember. This will most like likely be a long story so fasten your seat belts and enjoy the ride! Happy Readings!

Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge and all its charactors belong to the genius mind of Baz Luhrman, who needless to say is not me.
Moulin Rouge 2: Lady Marmalade
Christian held Satine in his arms, sobbing over her. Harold had to enlist the aid of Chocolat and the Argentian to pry him away from her body. They wouldn't let him near her. Harold watched as the acrobats carried Satine's body to her dressing room. He sat by her waiting for the arrangements to be made. His little sparrow, the queen of his sordid little world was dead. Helayed his head in is hands and sobbed, cursing the world, diesease, his own greed for the end of such a pitiful life.

"Damn you Satine, you wouldn't listen to us. Why did you have to fly away Sparrow? Why?"

With each word Zidler hit Satines unmoving chest with his fists. He broke down into tears once again. He covered his eyes with his large hands as the tears slipped down his face. He almost didn't hear the smal gasp of breath that came from the bed. He whipped his head around to watch in Amazement as Satine began gasping for breath, choking on her own blood.

"Marie! Someone! Call a docter! Quickly!" he bellowed.


"Phillippe de Siegnuer was a hard worker as well as a devoted husband and father."


Fifteen year old Velvette de Siegnuer choked back her laughether as they lowered the coffin of her father into the ground. Phillippe de Siegnuer had been a ruthless man who had shown little if no affection to his family, his only ambition being to make his clothing mills the best in France. She had been named for those blasted mills. While all her friends ave claims to being named after relatives, she had been named after fabric. The best fabric those damnable mills could produce. Velvet. The service was over, and the visitors offered her condolences as the parted for their own homes and their family.

"Devoted Husband and Father, my left foot!" she muttered as she walked towards the gravestone of her mother Antoinette. The inscription read, Beloved mother and wife. Velvette stooped to the ground with the single white rose she always brought to her mothers grave. Velvette felt it her duty to pay respects to the mother she had never known, the mother who had died giving birth to her. She felt the rain on her face as she turned and made her way home. After a light supper, she went through her father's papers. The will was there, the deed to the house and the mills, bank statments, stocks, her birth certificate, her mother's death certificate. Normal everyday items. On an impulse Velvette grabbed the Photoalbum from the book case in the library and began flipping through it. Her parents' wedding photo, her birth, scenery, family trips. Then she saw it. A family picture dated May 25, 1889. In the picture stood the tall straight unwielding form of her father with his arms around the four-year-old Velvette. Next to them stood a girl Velvette didn't know. She looked to be about 14 or 15, with an impish look in her eye. The housekeeper, Mrs Beaumont, enter the room with a tea tray.

"Miss Velvette, I have tea for you. Whatever are you looking at child?" The house keeper who had been with the de Siegnuer family for many many years looked over at her charge.

"Mrs. Beaumont, who is she?" Velvette asked in a quiet voice.

Mrs. Beaumont sighed as she sat down the tray. She gazed at her young mistress. At Fifteen Velvette had thick, wavy, fiery-red hair and piercing green eyes, a singing voice that could be described as angelic until one saw her when her temper had the better of her, a grace and flair about her that just drew people in. It was time she was told, Mrs. beaumont decided.

"This may take a while child. You know that your father was never one for emotions and sentimentality, that he was a harsh and cruel man."

Velvette nodded as the woman went on.

"Your father and mother had been the products of an arranged marriage. Your father couldn't wait to have children, a son to succeed him and a daughter to show off. Your mother eagerly expected the same so that she could have a meaning in life. Five years after they married they had a little girl, named much like you, who became your father's life. He loved her like no other. gave her everything she ever wanted. Your mother did not become pregnant for nearly ten years after that. But she did and had you. She wasn't strong enough to make it through it and as you know, died delivering you. Your father went into a reclusive state, not wanting to see you or your sister. This went on for months. Until one day he just snapped out of it, but it changed him. He didn't want any frivolity in his life at all. Your childhood suffered for that. There where none of the happy things he had done with your sister. When you were five it all came to a head. Your sister was tired of never being allowed to sing or to dance. She ran away and only God knows where she is right now."

"SO this picture?"

"That picture, Ma Cherie, is your sister. Satine."

Thunder clapped making both woman jump. They chuckled slightly laughing at their folly when a knock at the door made them jump once again. Velvette rose with Mrs. Beaumont to answer it.
A large red-haried man stood there, holding a body in his arms. He pushed passed the two women and into the parlor. Laying the person on the chaise there.

"Just who do you think you are and what are you doing?" Velvette demanded

The vistitor just stared at her as if he had seen a ghost. It was a minute before he could speak.

"I am Harold Zidler."

The person on the chaise coughed loudly and began to gasp for breath. Zidler rushed to their side, pulling off the cloak that covered the head of the person. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders and her blue eyes where filled with pain. Soon the coughing stopped and Zidler turned to them.

Mrs. Beaumont gasped and Velvette fainted dead away at his next words.

"This, my ladies, is your long lost treasure. This is Satine."