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They were awoken by guttural screeching.
Bedsheets shuffled as the two of them slowly sat up in unison, eyes closed and lips pursed in exhaustion. Catra blinked a few times before stretching.
“What is it?” Adora mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes. Catra ignored her blush at Adora’s endearing confusion. It often took her darling a moment to remember the surroundings of her waking world. Catra knew this very well, after years of waking up next to her and watching her expression light up when she remembered she was sharing a bed with the love of her life again after an achingly long time spent apart during the war. Catra also knew that Adora spent the better half of her nights shifting in her bed and mumbling, occasionally yelling or pleading in terror— leading and winning a war had its prices to pay. But it meant that when Adora was awake she would hold her closer, with Catra murmuring promises of never leaving again in her ear. She never minded.
“The baby’s crying,” she murmured in reply, cracking her back.
“I’ll take care of—” Adora grunted in surprise when Catra shushed her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I got it.”
“What? But you got it last time—”
“And I’ll get it this time,” Catra insisted. “You need your rest.”
“So do you,” Adora argued, blinking slowly. Her speech began to slur.
“The mighty She-Ra, defeated by the human need for sleep.”
Adora rolled her tired eyes and placed a soft kiss on her wife’s shoulder before laying back down.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes barely open as she gazed at Catra. Catra learned down and placed a kiss on her forehead, tail flicking, before she stood up and headed for the nursery.
Little Noela lay screaming in her crib when Catra stumbled in. She gingerly stepped towards the crib and slowly picked up the baby before bringing her to her chest and cradling her in her arms, bouncing her up and down lightly and slowly.
“What’s wrong, beautiful girl? Did you have a nightmare?” Catra inquired, not expecting an answer. Noela’s screams died down slightly and became rattled sobs.
“Your mother has nightmares too,” Catra continued. “And so do I.” Noela’s sobs died down further as Catra continued to cradle her. “Sometimes people hurt each other. People that love each other.”
Her mind took her back to the moment it all ended. Adora stood facing her in the form of She-Ra, both of them covered in blood and battle wounds, gazing at each other with knowing, forgiving eyes. Catra had known it was over from the moment Hordak ordered her to send the troops off— she had argued, known it was certain death for them. But he refused to surrender. He would rather have sent his soldiers to their deaths and abandon everything than admit defeat. Funnily enough, Catra never took Hordak for the deserting kind. That was the moment Catra realized that everything she had been looking for was with the rebellion, with Adora. She had certainly earned the respect she had craved in the years before Adora had defected. But no one cared for her with The Horde except for the one that had left years before any of them. She has spent the whole war building a rivalry with the only thing that was worth fighting for.
So she left. Convinced everyone that she could to leave, to join the rebellion and fight for a better cause. She led them away and escaped to Bright Moon, where she stood before a wide-eyed Queen Angella and kneeled, surrendering to the rebellion and offering to do whatever she could to fight for them.
Catra couldn’t blame the Queen for refusing to trust her at first. It was, after all, quite a sight to see the most powerful enemy war general in Etheria, excepting Lord Hordak himself, kneeling and offering themself to the rebellion. Adora had visited her every night in the prison cell, flanked by Bright Moon’s guards, promising to find a way to prove Catra’s loyalty to the queen. She was quite shocked when, two weeks later, the cell door opened in front of her and Queen Angella, with Adora standing with folded arms and trusting eyes behind her, handed her a sword and told her to prove her loyalty in the final battle.
She still didn’t know what Adora did to convince her. Regardless, she took the sword and fought on the side of the rebellion until the very end.
The baby’s crying snapped her back to the present. Precious Noela. She looked down at her daughter and smiled. What beauty peace could bring.
“But you will never have reason to doubt that I will always be in love with your mother,” Catra continued. “Don’t tell her that, though. Her head is big enough as it is.”
Noela’s crying finally died down. Catra walked over to a nearby chair and sat down, cradling her daughter until she fell asleep. Once she was certain Noela was asleep, she slowly placed her back in her crib and tiptoed back into her room.
As she climbed into bed, Adora began to shift slightly, grunting occasionally. Catra placed a soft kiss on her back and shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist. Adora, who had jumped awake, gasping slightly, glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze softened when she saw her wife looking back at her with the same forgiving eyes she had seen all those years ago. She turned around and wrapped her arms around Catra, squeezing somewhat tightly. Catra didn’t mind. She hugged her back in response, a silent promise.
Sometimes, promises could be kept.