Chapter Text
Hearts in Song
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Chapter One
During Dorothea’s earliest years, she is with her mother.
They are together, living in too-small rooms in boarding houses, sharing a room with at least two or three other single women and their children. The rooms are never clean enough, and the bed is too small, even for a small woman and her even smaller daughter. Still, Dorothea and her mother make it work, and her mother always manages a gentle smile and a soft lullaby.
In Dorothea’s earliest years her clothes are too small, her stomach always a little empty, and her mother too sick to work for any length of time.
In Dorothea’s earliest years she is never alone, never in the too crowded boarding rooms.
Things change when Dorothea’s mother’s lullabies become less and less frequent.
“Sing to me Dorothea,” Her mother says, holding her hand. She has been sick in bed now for at least a week, and at six years old Dorothea is helping in the kitchen of the boarding house to help earn their keep.
Dorothea sings to her.
Her mother clutches her hand. “You have a beautiful voice, Dorothea.” She says. “I hope it takes you far.”
And so Dorothea continues singing, lovely little lullabies, hoping that with them her mother might be well tomorrow.
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And then like that, Dorothea’s mother is gone, and she is alone.
She is kicked out of the boarding house at seven, the owners being unable to keep her or care for her. She is a scrawny thing, and she hardly gets any pity on the streets of Enbarr. She knows how to beg, and cry, and that keeps her alive, for a little while.
She starts following around an older girl by the name of Mia. Mia is a scrappy thing at the age of 13, and occasionally she will share her stolen goods with Dorothea. It doesn’t take very long for Dorothea to sing for her.
After that--It doesn’t take long for Mia to introduce Dorothea to the other teens and children that she runs with--All living in an abandoned house on the outskirts of Enbarr.
Mia gets Dorothea to sing for the group she runs with, and thanks to the power of her voice, Mia’s friends start to show interest in keeping Dorothea around.
Begging on the streets becomes singing for food and favours. Dorothea is a pretty young girl, even behind the grit and dirt, and it is easier for the nobles to take pity on her than the older kids. No one ever stays to speak with her however, they just want to hear her sing, give her a coin to aid their guilty conscience, and then of course, move on.
Some however-some of the nobles are cruel. Some kick dirt in her face, while some yell at her and there are even the occasional people who tempt her with food before throwing it away. Those are the worst nobles, the ones who want to make you hope, just to take that hope away.
The older children are always angry when she comes back with nothing and on those days she never gets food rations unless Mia sneaks them to her.
Life goes like that for years, and people come and go from the group, but Dorothea stays because she has nowhere else to go, and no one else to turn to.
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When Mia turns 16, and Dorothea almost 10, Mia reveals she is pregnant by a boy--but not a boy who runs with them. No, this is a boy from a noble house, and different than anyone that Dorothea has ever met.
“The baby could be born with a crest.” Mia tells Dorothea excitedly. She looks more like a woman than she ever did at thirteen, and is applying the makeup she had stolen, looking at the broken mirror that herself and Dorothea both share. Dorothea watches her, studies her. Makeup is a thing that can make a person beautiful, and Dorothea wants it for herself. “And his parents are kind-they-” Mia sighs dreamily. “His parents want to take me in-until at least the baby is born.” She says. “But this could be-this could be good for me. Even if the baby isn’t born with a crest-if I prove myself useful enough then maybe they can keep me on as a maid.”
Dorothea kicks her feet. “Do you love him?” Her mother used to tell her stories of love, and Dorothea wants it-a great love story with a happy ending to match. It would be a beautiful thing, to be a princess in a fairytale.
Mia’s laugh is sad and bitter. “This isn’t about love, Dorothea.” Mia says. “This is about survival.”
Dorothea nods. Mia often speaks about survival and what it means. “Am I going with you?”
Mia sighs. “You know you can’t.” She says. She comes over and touches Dorothea’s cheek and kisses her head. “They won’t let me bring a child along.” She gives Dorothea a hug. “You’re old enough now that you can start taking care of yourself.” She clicks her tongue, which is a nervous habit for Mia. “Besides, I have the baby to think about.”
But I need you. Dorothea wants to protest.
Dorothea’s words are frozen in her mouth while Mia strokes her hair. “Promise me, if you ever have a chance to leave this life behind-you do whatever it takes to leave, even if it means bedding a man you do not love-even then.” She says. “Do what it takes Dorothea.”
“I will.” She tells Mia. “I promise.”
Mia smiles and gives her another hug.
Dorothea doesn’t feel any less alone.
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When Manuela finds her, Dorothea is singing.
“Such a sad song from a beautiful girl.” The woman says, approaching Dorothea and throwing a coin in her hat. Dorothea smiles at her gratefully.
“Thank you,” Dorothea says. She bows her head. She recognizes the lady--The opera star--Manuela Casagranda. She cannot believe that the woman who is on so many posters in Enbarr is staring down at her now, and humming the tune she was just singing.
“I haven’t heard such raw talent in a longtime.” Manuela says, and she reaches out her hand. “Manuela Casagranda.”
Dorothea squeezes Manuela’s hand in turn, ashamed about her own chapped hands and overgrown nails. “Dorothea.”
“Such a pretty name.” Manuela hums. “Come to the Opera House tonight--I want to see if you’re suitable for some of our roles.”
Dorothea’s heart skips in her chest, fearing that this is some sort of cruel trick, but the woman is still grasping her hand and smiling down at her.
“I will meet you outside the opera house.”
Dorothea nods her head, her heart beating out of her chest and she feels as though she can barely breathe.
Her mother did tell her once that her voice would take her far.
Dorothea can only hope that’s true.
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When Dorothea is almost 16 she is casted in the role of a Princess-one who falls in love with a commoner boy. It is a tragedy which adds to the fun of acting it and performing it, but she doesn’t need to fake her tears when the commoner dies in the end.
She is known in the Opera World for her quickly growing beauty, her sweet smile, and a voice that could match a woman’s talent.
What patrons do not know is the late, sleepless nights Dorothea has spent practicing, practicing song, dance, and even her walk and her smile. Charm meant everything to nobles, and Dorothea would charm them until they loved her. She had to. Singing to them now was really no different than when she used to sing to them on the streets, but now she could get more than a simple silver coin.
The boy who is casted as the commoner is a sweet boy, and Dorothea’s first kiss. He prefers men, and Dorothea is grateful for that. They casted her with someone who wouldn’t want her. There is a danger to falling in love on the stage.
Her first kiss that actually means anything is with a girl-a choir girl who Dorothea regularly spends time with. She is a lord’s daughter, and she is spending time at the opera for one summer before being forced into a life of obligation and marriage.
“I wish I could be free like you.” The girl-Edelle, says to Dorothea, one day. They’re having a picnic near a duck pond that is close to the opera house.
Dorothea isn’t free. Everything she has right now is conditional. As Manuala becomes older, Dorothea watches as the roles she is given shifts. Manuala gets casted as mothers, and wives--but never the leading lady. Dorothea knows that one day Manuala’s faith will be her own.
Dorothea giggles however, and doesn’t tell Edelle a word of which she is thinking.. “You could stay at the opera with me-forever.” She holds Edelle’s hand. “We could be Divas. Can you imagine? We’d be sought after by men-but we’d love each other-”
“Dorothea-” Edelle says, her voice quiet. “I have to get married--after this summer. My father is sending me away. We have an arrangement in The Lester Alliance with a minor lord.” Edelle is from a rich family-but they are new money, and Edelle is crestless. A marriage with a minor lord is one of her better options.
It is surely better than no offer of marriage at all.
In the ways of marriage, Dorothea supposes she is free. She is not expected to marry someone she doesn’t know at the age of almost sixteen.
Dorothea did not have a father to search for men for her. If Dorothea chooses marriage she will have to look for a viable partner herself.
Dorothea simply sighs. She is tired of this conversation, tired of talks of marriage. “Okay-” She says “Well let’s make this summer count then-shall we?” She grips Edelle’s hand and squeezes.
“Of course.” Edelle says, squeezing Dorothea’s hand back.
They will probably never see each other again, but Dorothea vows to hold on to this, for as long as she can.
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“I am leaving the opera house,” Manuela says to Dorothea one day when they are both eating dinner together. They are sitting at a lovely little restaurant--a restaurant Dorothea never would have been able to afford in her street urchin days.
“Why?” Dorothea asks. “Did another company offer you something better?”
“No, nothing like that.” Manuela shakes her head, and Dorothea does not miss the large gulp of wine she swallows. Dorothea knows that she is going to be responsible for getting Manuela home tonight, but that isn’t surprising these days.
Manuela had shone so brightly in the early days of Dorothea’s career. She still blooms of course, and Dorothea still thinks she is beautiful, but Dorothea worries for her regardless.
She has seen too many opera singers fall into the trappings of wine.
Dorothea knew better than that. She enjoys a drink or two, of course, but being an orphan on the streets taught you how to keep your wits about you. It was no good to be more than tipsy, especially if you were surrounded by strange men who wanted a piece of you.
“Then why are you leaving?”
Manuela sighs, deep and heavy. “Dorothea--” She says. “Surely you must know I haven’t been getting casted for the main roles anymore.”
Most of them have been going to you, was left unsaid, and Dorothea could not help but wonder--
Did Manuela regret saving her all those years ago?
Dorothea does her best to cast those thoughts aside. “The directors are wrong to overlook your talent.”
“The directors overlook me because I am getting old.”
Manuela could not be older than her mid-thirties but Dorothea knew that anything over 25 is considered ancient in the opera world. In a way it was a sort of miracle that Manuela has spent as much time in the spotlight as she did.
Dorothea knows that one day she will grow to be older, and one day the opera world will cast her aside as well.
Dorothea is tired of being cast aside.
Dorothea should be comforting Manuela, and instead her mind is drifting to her own fearful and insecure places.
She reaches out a hand and touches Manuela’s hand with her own. “Where do you plan on going?”
“Garreg Mach Monastery-I was offered a teaching position there.”
Dorothea nods her head. “You will be an amazing teacher.”
Manuela takes another sip of wine. “Yes, well, for the sake of the students I can only hope.”
Dorothea smiles at her, hoping that her smile looks reassuring,
But another person is leaving her, all alone.
And how much longer would she have the opera to hold on to?
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And so, at 18 years old, Dorothea Arnaut stands in front of Garrag Mach Monastery, ready to change her faith once more.
Her mother had told her once, so many years ago, that her voice would take her far.
Dorothea now knew there was a limit on how far her voice could take her.
Marriage however--Marriage could change her life, especially if she happened to find the right person.
If she played her cards right Dorothea would never be that poor little orphan girl, living on the streets of Embarr, ever again.