*~To The Stars Shining In The Depths~*

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A year and a day.

In Fódlan, it has long been traditional for engagements to be set for that span of time.

In Teyvat, it has been set as the term of her incarceration in the Fortress of Meropide.

It retrospect, it was a mistake coming to Fontaine--she can see that now--but it had seemed like such a good idea when she'd been planning her vacation. She's heard so much about the beauty of the land of Hydro, heard of all the fascinating technology used in its cities, and it seemed to her like a crying shame for everyone to believe that it's the nation of her birth when she's never laid eyes on it herself.

Yes, yes, she's led everyone in Mondstadt to believe she was born in Fontaine, that she performed on its stages when she was younger, and she's fortunate that the people here are largely so trusting and that it's such a hassle to verify these sorts of claims. The only person who knew the truth was the Cavalry Captain, and only because he'd been the first one to meet her and he's as crafty as a fox. She'd asked him if there was a bank in town where she could exchange her coin for the local currency and he'd played along for the rest of the afternoon, deflecting that the nearest bank that could service her request was the next nation over, taking her to dinner and subtly plying her for information. It was something of an engaging back-and-forth while it lasted, her answers always charming but evasive until he finally confronted her about her true origins and admitted that there was only one currency in the whole of the known world. Fortunately for Dorothea, she wasn't the first off-worlder to appear in Teyvat, and the last one was a personal friend of his, and Kaeya was perceptive enough to see that she wasn't a threat to his town or its inhabitants. He helped her craft a new identity--still Dorothea Arnault, but now she was Dorothea from Fontaine, not Dorothea from Enbarr. He helped her gain Mondstadtan citizenship after learning more about her, how unlike the Traveler, she had no desire for grand adventures after surviving five years of war and a lifetime of hardships. All she wanted was a safe and quiet place to live and work that wouldn't put her in harm's way. She became a clerk for Ordo Favonius, helping with the mountains of paperwork that seemed to constantly bog down the acting grandmaster and cracking the whip on the more indolent Knights where the higher-ups wouldn't. It was a huge help to everyone, relieving a bit of the pressure that the overworked captains felt. After days of paperwork and delegation, she would sometimes slip into a slinky dress to go and perform at the Angel's Share for a small fee and all the tips she could collect.

It was not a bad life, but Dorothea could admit that it was monotonous after the constant ups-and-downs of the war. That's what gave her the idea to travel. The Knights could be without her for a few days while she explored the parts of Teyvat she'd heard of but never gotten to see. She books passage to Fontaine, books a room at a waterside inn, packs her bag and goes.

It doesn't happen immediately upon her arrival. No, they wait until she's settled into her waterfront room, wait until she's out and about, sitting under an umbrella at a streetside café and sipping a cup of sweet, fruity tea before the garde approaches her and asks her to come with him in a tone that makes it clear it is not a request. She's blindsided when they finally lay their accusations at her feet: identity fraud and forgery of official legal documents. As it happens, the Mondstadtan citizenship papers that she'd signed had required proof of live birth--something they wouldn't have even been able to obtain for her in Fódlan given the nature of her parentage, much less in Teyvat--and so Kaeya had simply created such a document for her and had someone in his network of informants slip it in at the court in such a way that it could never be traced back to him. If she'd stayed away, if she'd kept to her routine, if she'd decided to visit fucking Sumeru instead, she would have been fine, but now in a rather cruel twist of irony, the things that had been done without her knowledge to protect her were now coming back around to put her very directly in the line of fire.

Her day in court is a nightmare. The Archon--God of Justice (so called)--and her Iudex stare down at Dorothea from on high, and the people of Fontaine sneer at her from the audience; she doesn't answer their questions, can't answer them when they ask her who she is and where she's from. She denies having a hand in the forgery, but she won't give up the names of those who might be responsible. It's a non-starter, so she's not surprised when their machine delivers its verdict: guilty, guilty, guilty.

It's raining when she's escorted back to the water's edge, but not to her cozy room at the inn she'd booked but the austere entrance to the prison where she will live for the next 366 days. As appropriate as the rain feels, she wishes she could feel the sun on her face one last time before she's taken down into the Fortress' belly. She doesn't cry--hasn't cried through this whole affair--but her hands tremble as she's processed in, as she's brought to her cell, as the gardes look down on her as if she'd murdered someone in cold blood. It's almost more than she can manage. It's almost like she's back on the streets of Enbarr.

They put her to work the morning after her arrival, but it's clear after a few hours that she's not suited to manual labor. She'll be assigned other work, she's informed as she's given a handful of coupons for her effort. After rinsing off in a communal shower (only marginally better than the fountains of her youth), she finds her way to the kitchen for a meal that tastes like dust.

The rest of the day is free time, so Dorothea wanders, avoiding the other prisoners as much as possible but observing where they go. It leads her, ultimately, to the Pankration Ring, where men and women have gathered to watch their fellow inmates fight each other and even machines. It's a brutal display, but it reaches a violent climax when two prisoners as burly as wild boars tear into one another with devastating kicks and punches. The fight reaches a fever pitch, the audience shouting for their favorites, and Dorothea is getting up to leave when a flash of gray and burgundy vaults into the ring with a command to 'break it up, you two.'

It's over in a matter of seconds, the two combatants rendered unconscious by the man who now stands above them. A spattering of blood drips down his cheek--not his blood, she notes--and he hops down from the platform once the ring attendants start climbing up to deal with the incapacitated fighters.

From across the room, their eyes meet as he scans the audience, and Dorothea feels an icy jab of fear pierce her heart. He turns to speak to the nearby garde and she's gone in a flash, bolting from the arena as fast as her legs can carry her.