Chapter Text
Fontaine.
The nation of Justice, previously led by the infamous Hydro Archon, Lady Furina, otherwise known as Focalors. Known for its “true beauty and elegance” as well as its fantastical legal trials, Fontaine is arguably one of the most interesting regions in Teyvat.
As one could assume, the people of Fontaine have a deep-rooted love for the performing arts because of Lady Furina’s flamboyant and theatrical behavior during trials. She would always do her absolute best to put on a show for the audience, and seemed to adore being in the spotlight when the attention was positive.
Little did everyone know at the time, it was to hide a much deeper and darker secret. She was a puppet, essentially. A puppet to deceive the Heavenly principles for 500 years, separated from Egeria’s successor, Focalors, to prevent Fontaine from falling to the infamous prophecy.
However, once it became apparent that she was free from the role of playing as the Hydro Archon anymore, the people of Fontaine desired something new to satiate their appetite for drama. Besides a few operas, plays, Lyney’s magic shows, and the trials, was there really anything worth traveling to the Opera Epiclese for?
The nation of Hydro was soon to be in for a treat.
Pointes Élégantes, the first ballet company introduced to Fontaine, caused a ripple of excitement throughout the region. Posters of the company’s debut performance were posted on the windows of boutiques, restaurants, even around the Fountain of Lucine. Promises of a performance of a lifetime were written in bright, bold letters, sure to attract the biggest of crowds.
Hushed whispers amongst the ladies and eager conversations between gentlemen soon blossomed across the land. The children were thrilled, running about the Court of Fontaine with the ballet company’s flyers in their hands, giggling and laughing. It even reached so far as to the Fortress of Meropide once criminals started trickling into the autonomous stronghold. Though they more than likely would never be able to see the ballet, talk of it was titillating nonetheless.
Pointes Élégantes was founded by an older woman, Amelia, a former professional dancer hailing from Sumeru and yourself. You had trained for years under Amelia, but up to a certain point there really was no more room to grow. After all, Sumeru had the Zubayr Theater, and the famous dancer Nilou, who was great competition as far as performances were concerned. Rightfully so, as she was stunning and not to mention the epitome of grace.
For a while, you performed your heart out under the guidance of Amelia to raise Mora to travel to Fontaine, with the purposes of starting a ballet company. Several other dancers joined you while in Sumeru and helped the cause as well. Ximena, from Liyue, and Lucille, from Sumeru, were one of the first ones to join the ballet troupe in an effort to help you and Amelia.
And it worked.
With enough Mora to get to Fontaine and to rent out a dance studio, Amelia transitioned to an artistic director, and you, Ximena, and Lucille, were able to recruit potential ballet dancers and start practicing on a more regular basis.
Amelia was fierce as the director. With strict critiques and endless hours of exhausting classes, she was determined to prime the Pointes Élégantes ballet dancers to be the crème de la crème.
With months of preparing for the debut performance under everyone’s belts, it was finally time to make the announcement to Fontaine.
“It’s happening! Do you hear the music?”
You briefly snapped out of your anxiety-induced trance as you picked up on someone’s eager trills. The airy, feminine voice was very distinct and belonged to none other than Lucille. You turned to her with a weak smile, your fingers fiddling apprehensively.
She was right. Outside of the fitting room, the orchestra were beginning to warm up their instruments. For now, it was a low hum, something to ease the audience’s palate for now.
Lucille nearly gasped as you turned around, her face instantaneously lighting up as her bright eyes examined you adoringly. “Oh, mon bijou! You look stunning!” She skipped up to you and patted your head like you were her pet. She always teased you like this.
You squirmed a bit, feeling self conscious. Your hair was slicked back into an immaculate bun. Make-up done to a tee, and not to mention the glamorous costume that you wore, sprinkled with golden accents throughout.
“Thank you, Lucille, you as well.” You meekly answered, looking up at her appreciatively.
“Me? Oh, please! Not more than you.”
You chuckled softly. “We’re wearing the same thing, you know.”
Lucille looked down humorously, a mock gasp coming out of her mouth.
“You’re right!”
You shook your head and sighed, not being relaxed enough to burst into laughter as you usually would.
Your stomach continued to churn with doom and the palms of your hands grew cold and clammy. Out of all your solo performances and practices while training in Sumeru, you had never been this tense with worry.
Well, perhaps it was the fact that there was a record number of attendees ever at the opera house, mere meters away, that made this more stressful. Or the idea that any one of you could make a mistake. Or that anyone could get injured at any moment–
Your eyebrow began to twitch with annoyance as you scolded yourself internally. Stop thinking like that. Not now.
Nervousness laced the air as you continued to go down the rabbit hole of how this night would truly go. You weren’t the only one feeling the pressure, though.
Unfortunately, no one in the troupe escaped the rumors that traversed throughout Fontaine, and it did nothing to ease the tension before the performance began.
“We’ll do great, guys.” Odette, one of the youngest of the troupe, said in a chipper manner. She wore a beaming smile, but you could tell that beneath it, she was absolutely petrified. You noticed the tremble in her hands.
You thought it was sweet that she tried to cheer up her seniors, though.
“She’s right, you know.” Lucille said, deep into one of her hamstring stretches. “We didn’t practice for months, six hours a day, just to end up getting cold feet at the last minute. We have to be confident.”
You nodded, trying to swallow the bile forming in your throat. Even though you were technically the most senior ballet dancer here, it was extremely taxing to bear that responsibility of being the “leader” and exude confidence in an intense situation like this.
You had your moments of weakness too.
But it couldn’t last much longer, or else the fear of the unknown would seep into everyone’s psyche.
So, you cleared your throat and turned towards your group. Thirteen women, and five men; all young and passionate about the art of ballet. Everyone here had worked so hard, no matter their dancing background. In the process, you all became like family. You felt your heart grow warm with fondness for them.
They looked at you with slight trepidation.
You stood from your chair, catching their attention even more. The room quietened as they awaited your words.
“I am so, so proud of you all. You have no idea, truly.” You stated clearly, a warm smile coming to your face. Your docile mannerisms from before dissipated into thin air as your voice resembled that of a true leader, someone who had faith in those around them. “Please, remember that, if nothing else.”
“Don’t overthink it. Stay calm. I believe in all of you.” You continued.
You noticed Pierre and Léa take a deep breath, their chests softly rising and falling.
Soon, everyone began to smile or take a deep breath, your words instilling motivation.
“Let’s tell Fontaine who we are and why we deserve to be here. But not through words… through the art we make. Okay?” You said, wrapping up your little motivation speech simultaneously holding out your hands for everyone to take.
The remaining ballet dancers who were seated stood up and started to form a circle, taking each other’s hands, and squeezing them reassuringly. The atmosphere shifted to a more optimistic and resolute one.
“We did not put our bodies through so much strife and strain to not give these people a show.” Ximena said abruptly with a subtle eyebrow raise. Everyone was in agreement with her, a soft laugh bubbling from their lips as memories filled with bruises, calluses, muscle aches and pains, began to come to mind.
“Don’t get me started.” Louis, a male ballet dancer, replied with a playful tone.
She laughed, turned her gaze slightly towards you and winked. You rolled your eyes back at her with a smirk. You could always count on her to add a comedic comment or expression during a serious moment.
The music from the orchestra became louder, causing the group to look up sharply. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart began to pump furiously.
It was time.
Soon after, the director, Amelia, burst into the dressing room, looking flushed and out of breath. She audibly gasped as she eyed each of you carefully.
“You… all look stunning!” She squealed, coming up to each of you with observant eyes, patting on your costumes to make sure everything was in order.
“Miss Amelia, you’ll make us late.” You warned, your mouth curling into another smile.“I know, I know, I just…” She trailed off, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Finally, she let out a deep breath and exclaimed.
“My babies, I am so proud! Now, go, go, show them what you got!” She gushed, her cheeks adorning a bright red. Her normally keen eyes looked wet.
Everyone nodded, letting go of each other’s hands. They began to line up behind you, starting to make their way to the grand stage of the Opera Epiclese.
While the curtains were down, each of the troupe began to settle into their position on stage. Softly whispering to each ballet dancer, such as to not alert the audience of your presence, you quickly went around and gave small high fives and fist bumps as one last final 'good luck’.
The lights were dimmed, the music began to reach its conclusion. The audiences’ lively chatter slowed to silence.
You reached your center position on stage quickly and gracefully. Your gaze flickered around briefly to make sure everyone had reached their assigned destination. Their poses were set. You were set.
The show was about to begin.
“Seriously, Sigewinne? A ballet?”
Wriothesley said, his tone dripping with irritation as he looked up at the Melusine nurse with an unamused expression from where he sat at his desk.
She frowned, although it was hard to tell from her naturally endearing features, whether she was actually upset or not.
“Yes, Your Grace! We should attend!” She said lightly, crossing her arms. “We at least need to make an appearance to show our support for them. Wouldn’t everyone love it if they saw the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide show his support for the performing arts?”
Wriothesley cocked his eyebrow at the suggestion and scoffed.
“I’ve never been one to show my support for such things.” He replied, setting the flyer down with a tired sigh.
“And what about you, Sigewinne? Wouldn’t everyone just love to see the Head nurse of Meropide too?”
Sigewinne was about to rebuttal, but was interrupted due to the Duke’s sharp laugh.
“Actually, now that I think about it, you just want to visit Monsieur Neuvillette, right?”
Wriothesley grinned wolfishly, his piercing pale gray eyes watching Sigewinne as she pouted and planted her petite hands on her hips. Her cheeks tinged red in embarrassment.
“That’s not the point, Your Grace!” She said, frustrated. Even though Wriothesley was partially right, she didn’t want to admit it.
“Just think about it, okay? Let me know when you’ve made your decision. It’s in two weeks!” Sigewinne said, pivoting on her heel and descending the stairs in his office to return to the infirmary.
Wriothesley groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Considering that going above land for once in a while would give him a break from his administrative duties for a night, it didn’t seem like a terrible idea. It would also give Sigewinne an opportunity to be around more humans, not just for the purpose of treating illness or injuries– and even though she didn’t directly say it, to see the Chief Justice as well.
He stared at the flyer once more as he weighed the pros and cons.
Coming to a conclusion, the Duke leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Okay, Sigewinne. Just one appearance, right?
Two weeks later, Wriothesley and Sigewinne had arrived to the overworld by aquabus, and made their way to the Opera Epiclese.
Sigewinne had a pleasant smile the entire ride there. As they grew closer, Wriothesley was regretting his decision by the second. Perhaps he just did not like stepping out of his comfort zone much, or the fact he knew he would draw unwanted attention.
So much for being “Lord Incognito”.
The Melusine guide, Elphane, continued to drabble on as they approached Marcotte station. Wriothesley cast Sigewinne a glance, who was still wearing the same enthusiastic smile.
“Welcome to Marcotte station. Enjoy the show at the Opera Epiclese, and please do not bring food or drink inside of the premises.” Elphane instructed bluntly.
Wriothesley quietly thanked the little Melusine as they disembarked, while Sigewinne waved goodbye as the aquabus continued its route on the Navia line.
“Are you excited, Your Grace?” Sigewinne asked curiously, looking up at the tall man as they walked to the Opera Epiclese.
He looked down at her. Even if he lied, she would see right through it. She always did. She has a knack for those types of things.
“I can’t say that I’m not a little… intrigued, I suppose.” He answered after a long silence, shrugging his shoulders.
Sigewinne hummed in acknowledgment, continuing to walk alongside him.
Soon enough, they were standing in front of Fontaine’s pride and joy, the Opera Epiclese.
The Duke tried to pay no mind to the Fontainians who would gasp and gossip as he walked past them. He ran his hand through his unruly black and gray-striped hair, tired of this ordeal already.
Holding in a grimace all the while, the pair soon came across Clorinde and Neuvillette, chatting idly in the lobby of the opera house.
Finally, some familiar faces.
“Ah, Monsieur Neuvillette and Miss Clorinde. Pleasure.” Wriothesley greeted cordially, making brief eye contact with them.
Neuvillette’s dark blue, almost purple slitted irises swept over Wriothesley as he registered his voice. He dipped his head respectfully. Clorinde glanced at him with a curious glint in her eyes.
“Wriothesley. Good evening.” Neuvillette said, his deep voice rumbling. “I am glad you came to show your support… on your own free-will, at that?” He asked curiously, his expression unchanging.
The Duke chuckled awkwardly to his sudden question. “That’s, uh, a long story…” He looked down at Sigewinne briefly, who was wearing an innocent expression.
She knew what she was doing.
The Iudex blinked once, twice, then nodded. He turned to Sigewinne with the smallest of smiles, though he was internally elated to see the kind melusine. “Good evening, Sigewinne. How have you been?”
Sigewinne, delighted to see the Iudex, giggled in reply. “Monsieur Neuvillette, it’s great to see you again!”
Neuvillette’s smile widened a fraction, and continued to converse with Sigewinne quietly. Clorinde faced Wriothesley with a ‘hmph’.
“I do have to admit, I am surprised His Grace has blessed us with his presence.” Clorinde stated, fighting a smile of amusement.
Wriothesley waved her off dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, please, don’t make a fuss about it. I don’t want to make a scene more than I already am.”
He sighed, tiredly, casting a quick glance behind his shoulder as the whispers continued to float around him.
Clorinde scoffed and shook her head. She understood his troubles, due to her fame of being the Champion Duelist. She never was one to like attention, either.
“Monsieur Neuvillette, Miss Sigewinne, we should get to our seats and get settled.” She said, interrupting their muffled conversation.
Sigewinne smiled and nodded in agreement. “Sure! We have the best seats in the house. Follow me.”
The Duke and his accomplices had settled towards the front of the Opera Epiclese.
Wriothesley had been deep in thought, his chin propped into his hand as the music served as background noise. His boot tapped the ground mindlessly.
“Bored already, Your Grace?” Clorinde asked quietly, her bright purple eyes boring into the side of his head.
He perked up at the sound of her voice, cleared his throat and adjusted his black gloves.
“Who, me? Nah, definitely not, I’m fine. Just wondering when the little ballerinas will come spinning out in their tutus so they can be Fontaine’s newest obsession for the next two weeks.”
The Champion Duelist let out a sharp exhale. It sounded like she was trying to conceal a laugh at how wrong his assumption was.
“That’s a very interesting take you have there, Your Grace. Let’s see if you’re right.” She muttered, giving the man a knowing look.
Wriothesley opened his mouth to question her, but was cut off by the orchestra music, once background noise swelled in sound, a signal for the audience that the show was starting in mere seconds.
The music came to a stop at the hands of the conductor, and a silence thick as a blanket fell over the crowd. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation; even Wriothesley found himself paying more attention than he usually would.
The dark crimson-colored curtains rose, and everyone let out a small gasp of awe and surprise as the ballet dancers appeared.
You, from the stage, with the white, hot lights gleaming brightly down upon you, lifted your head and sent the audience a charming smile.
It’s showtime.