Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lonnie brandished the Horde-issued blaster wand, trying to ignore the red flashing light that indicated a low charge. Moonlight from the faintest of Etheria’s moons gave only barely enough light to see by. But the green glowing eyes and white tunics made the Horde clones easy to see.

She took a deep breath and evaluated the situation. Kyle and Rogelio were behind her, the three of them back to back to back. They were in a canyon and surrounded. Two clones were marching toward her, and two more were advancing behind her. In their current conditions, she could take one clone on her own, Rogelio could take another, and Kyle… Well that left two clones unaccounted for. 

“Prime’s light has been extinguished. The galaxy is plunged into darkness. Without Prime’s light, none may see.” The clones chanted in unison. Their voices echoed, eerily similar to Hordak’s, but smoother. A tone of sickening affection as they praised their dead god and declared that they would send everyone to serve him in death. Their arms were outstretched, as if to embrace Lonnie. She had seen what happens when a clone got close enough to wrap their arms around someone, and it wasn’t pretty.

The last few days had been wild. It had all started when all of Prime’s spires had displayed a hologram, not of Prime, but one of Lonnie’s old enemies. Bow. His message, that it was time to fight back, had just been the beginning. A few hours later every single clone went crazy. From what Lonnie and her friend could decipher, She-Ra and the Rebellion had cut off the head, they had killed Horde Prime. And now the clones were doing everything they could to get revenge. And their next victims were going to be the three former Horde soldiers. 

Lonnie was a survivor, you had to be to grow up in the Horde, and she wasn’t going to let a few trumped-up Hordak wanna-bes take her down. The walls of the canyon around them were too steep to scale fast enough, Rogelio might make it on a good day, but Kyle and Lonnie couldn’t, and today was no where close to good. The clones were spaced out well enough that if they tried making a break for it, at least one of them would be caught, probably Kyle.

A slight bit of motion in the corner of her eye made Lonnie turn slightly to look up at the top of the canyon, but if there had actually been anything there it was gone by the time she looked. She quickly returned her attention to the clones in front of her. She could at least go down fighting. Bracing herself to leap into action, she heard Roelio snarl in surprise and Kyle yelp, followed by a crashing sound. Lonnie didn’t dare to turn around as the clones in front of her were almost close enough to attack, so she trusted her friends to deal with the two behind her and raised her blaster wand. 

A shadow pounced from behind her, pushing off the wall and colliding with the closer of the clones. The shadow ripped into the clone, sending green icor flying, before standing up facing the last clone. Mostly obscured by a hooded cloak, Lonnie couldn’t make out any details of this new combatant, especially in the dim light.  

“ Little Sister.” It said. And Lonnie thought that she picked up the slightest hint of actual anger from the clone. The figure stepped forward ducking under the clone and wrapped a clawed hand around the clone’s neck. A quick twist and it was over. 

Lonnie finally took the chance to glance behind her and saw the bodies of the other two clones on the ground. One of the bodies was crumpled up against the canyon wall, as if someone had thrown it hard enough to break bones. She had to ask, “Who are you?”

The figure turned slowly, revealing a set of mismatched eyes, blue and gold. 

“Miss me?” Catra asked, practically purring. She pulled her hood back revealing a shorter mane, unobscured by the mask she typically wore. She was also smirking in a way that Lonnie was all too familiar with. It was the smirk that Catra made when she was just about to spring a trap, when she was most confident that she had the upper hand. 

“You!” Lonnie yelled, brandishing her blaster wand again. Anger swelled up inside her as Lonnie remembered the last time she had seen Catra. It was when Catra was running the entire Horde operation on Etheria, ruthlessly ordering soldiers to the front lines. Including her old friends.

Catra panned her eyes casually over the group. Kyle and Rogelio were flanking Lonnie, Kyle was clutching an retractable staff like his life depended on it and Rogelio was half-crouched, arms ready. Lonnie was aiming the blaster wand at her, and not with it set to stun. None of this deterred the feline’s smirk. 

What are your intentions Catra? Rogelio growled. Last time we saw you, your allegiance was to the Horde.

Catra threw her head back and laughed. It was so different from the last time Lonnie had seen her laugh. When the two of them were alone and Catra was yelling at her, her voice horse and eyes wide, convinced that her underlings were making fun of her. Then Catra had been laughing through her pain and stress, entirely unhinged. Now Catra seemed actually calm and happy. And that on its own was almost as unnerving. 

“The Horde. If only you knew what that really meant.” Catra spoke slowly as she lifted up her arm and noticed that it was covered in green goo. She crouched next to one of the clones’ bodies and wided the arm off on the white cloth. “I’ve actually seen Horde Prime’s armies, there’s a lot more where these came from.”

More than Catra’s appearance had changed, that much was clear. A horrid thought accrued to Lonnie. “Show us your neck!” 

“What, don’t you trust me?” Catra didn’t stop smiling as she responded, but Lonnie noticed that Catra stiffened ever so slightly and her claws extended a few millimeters. Tiny signs that  you could only pick up on from knowing someone your whole life. 

“Fine.” Catra yielding to the unrelenting glares from her former friends. She turned and pulled down the collar of her shirt low enough to show the back of her neck, revealing a circular scar. “I had one, but it’s gone now. Happy?”

“Happy? How could we be happy? We had to leave our homes, and then a bunch of Hordaks attacked, and we had to come to the Crimson Wastes because no where else would accept us!” Kyle's outburst took Lonnie and Rogelio by surprise. “And all of it is your fault!”

“You can’t blame me for Horde Prime attacking. That was Sparkle’s mistake.” Catra crossed her arms and her tails waved back and forth a few times; she had stopped smiling. Lonnie was reminded again of the last few encounters between them before she had left with Kyle and Rogelio. Catra had been calm at first, before almost clawing her face off. Lonnie had lowered her weapon when Catra had shown her neck, but almost brought it back up again. It was three on one, but the sight of the four clones laying in pools of their own blood made Lonnie wonder if they could actually take their former commander in a fight. 

Our comrade’s other points remain unaddressed, Rogelio pointed out. Before the discussion could continue further, a familiar voice called out. 

“Catra!” Adora's voice was distant, but the anger in her voice was still clear. Catra’s ears flicked back in annoyance. This made Lonnie laugh. The three of them might not be able to give Catra the butt-kicking she deserved, but She-Ra definitively could. And Catra clearly knew it too. 

It would be foolish for you to assume that we will assist you in combat, Rogelio’s voice had an extra rattle that was his way of chuckling. 

“Catra, when I get my hands on you…” Adora’s voice was getting closer.

“She’s down here!” Kyle yelled. 

It was Lonnie’s turn to smirk. It was like old times, Catra would be picking on them and Adora would step in and put a stop to it. Only this time the stakes were a lot higher than stealing Kyle’s ration bars. Lonnie couldn’t resist shooting a mocking comment at Catra. “Looks like you just can’t escape She-Ra.”

However Catra was smiling, fangs out. She took a few steps back, deeper into the shadows. “Oh, I have a secret weapon now.”

Before Lonnie could process that statement, a figure appeared at the top of the canyon. Adora’s voice called out. “I can’t see anything. For the honor of Grayskull!” 

Lonnie had seen Adora transform into She-Ra before, but this time was different. Adora didn’t have the Sword of Protection. She just reached out her hand and the Sword materialized, sleeker than before. Then the blast of magic made Lonnie cover her eyes. A thrumming sound that was reminiscent of music signaled the transformation was complete. She-Ra stood there, a literal light on a hill. She looked down and spotted them. 

“Lonnie! Kyle! Rogelio!” She-Ra pushed off the edge of the cliff and landed with a crash in front of them. She-Ra was impressive, towering over even Rogelio. She was rather intimidating, but also had a sad smile on her face. “Are you guys alright?”

Before they could answer, Catra growled from behind She-Ra. “Hey Adora.”

“Catra-” She-Ra turned in time to see Catra spring at her. Much to the surprise of the three watching, She-Ra dropped her sword and caught the cat with her arms. Catra had wrapped her legs around She-Ra’s waist and her arms around She-Ra’s neck. Lonnie was beyond confused. Catra almost never tried to wrestle anyone. On the mats in training Adora would always win against her and even Kyle could give her trouble, on rare occasions. So why would Catra try wrestling She-Ra? Catra’s next move was to put her hand on the back of She-Ra’s head and bring it closer to her own and-

Lonnie’s brain short-circuited. She could feel both eyebrows arch up and her face go slack. Beside her, Rogelio’s mouth was so wide open that he might have unhinged his jaw and Kyle had one hand over his eyes, with two fingers separated so he could still see what happened. Catra was the first to pull away from the kiss, to send a smirk over She-Ra’s shoulder at her former teammates. Lonnie could see that She-Ra was blushing.  

She-Ra took a deep breath and, trying to keep her voice calm, asked, “Catra. Were you posturing again?”

“No.” Catra’s response was clearly a lie, and she wanted everyone to know that it was. She leaned in and licked the length of She-Ra’s neck. This was apparently crossing the line and She-Ra pushed her away. Catra gracefully landed on the ground sitting and looking overly smug. 

“I can’t take you anywhere!” She-Ra picked up her sword and turned to the former Horde soldiers. She prodded one of the clone bodies the tip of the blade. The blush was fading from her cheeks as she took in the scene. She repeated herself to her old friends. “Are you guys okay?”

Lonnie still couldn’t form coherent thoughts. Instead she just pointed back and forth from Catra to She-Ra with her free hand. Kyle actually was the one to voice what she was thinking. “How did you guys go from trying to kill each other to kissing?! ”

This time it was both She-Ra and Catra that laughed. She-Ra’s laugh was booming, echoing down the canyon and back. Lonnie was starting to get angry again. She, Kyle, and Rogelio had been fighting for their lives in the Crimson Wastes for some time now. It had been months since they had even seen a shower; Kyle had been petrified by some sort of cactus, twice; and Rogelio had been limping for a few days, and wouldn’t let them see why. The ration bars they had taken with them were almost gone. They were all covered in grime and bruises and here come Catra and Adora. The two friends that had betrayed them, just showing up looking clean, unharmed, and together . As if there wasn’t a war for the planet raging on. 

“No, we’re not okay.” Lonnie growled. “How dare you show up now. How dare you pretend that you didn’t turn your back on us! Both of you!”

That seemed to set She-Ra back on her heels. She glanced back at Catra, who was also, uncharacteristically, looking guilty. Lonnie knew that Adora had never been good with emotions. She was always a woman of action. This still seemed to be the case as She-Ra asked Catra: “Are there more of these-” she paused to kick one of the corpses, “-out there?”

“I sent Melog to patrol. They’ll warn us if there are.” Catra’s response was as level as she could make it, but Lonnie could tell there was some emotion there. 

She-Ra closed the distance between her and Lonnie. Lonnie stood her ground, staring down the much taller woman. She had never let anyone bully her, and wouldn’t start now. But she must have misunderstood She-Ra’s intentions as, with a flash of light, She-Ra reversed her transformation and left Adora standing in front of her. It had been over three years since the two of them had been this close and not engaged in combat. 

Adora’s face was sharper than she remembered, any trace of baby fat was gone. Several faint parallel scars were visible on her cheek, below her right eye. Lonnie could guess where those scars came from. Adora was wearing a cloak that matched Catras, but underneath Lonnie could see that she was wearing a long sleeved white shirt. Just like she always had. She reached out and laid a hand on Lonnie’s shoulder. 

“So much has happened. So much we need to tell you about.” Adora’s voice was sincere and kind. “And so much that we both have to apologize for. But first we should go back to our campsite. Purfuma was cooking dinner before we left, and you guys look like you could use a good meal.”

While Lonnie could imagine Adora apologizing, she wouldn’t hold her breath waiting for Catra to do the same. But… Another thing you learned in the Horde was never turn down extra rations. So she said as much. “Okay. Some grub wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Wait, did- did you say Perfuma? The princess that summons giant plant golems?” Kyle was always good at remembering names, especially of dangerous individuals. 

“That’s the one.” Adora said with a smile. “She’s super nice though. I promise she won’t punch you with flowers.”

“Yeah. She’s much more likely to suffocate you with friendship.” Catra said sarcastically. 

“The sooner we get back to the camp, the sooner we can ask her to put more food on.” Adora started walking down the canyon. Catra stood up and brushed herself off. 

“Adora. You’re going the wrong way dummy. Camp is this way.”

“Oh, yeah. I knew that I was just…”

Lonnie glanced at Rogelio and Kyle, an unspoken question. Rogelio shrugged, indifferent. Kyle offered an optimistic, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lonnie shrugged as well. Following Adora and Catra to a campsite where a princess was waiting would probably be better than staying out in the middle of the clone infested wastes, but Lonnie still had her doubts. Finally she gave in. “Alright. Let’s go with them. We can split in the morning.”

Catra was watching all of this. “Are you coming?”

“After you.” Lonnie gestured. She still didn’t want Catra walking behind them. The five of them started their hike out of the canyon; Adora in the lead by several paces, Catra following her, then Rogelio leaning on Kyle, and Lonnie taking up a defensive position in the rear. They hadn’t gone far when Catra rotated her ears back to hear something. 

“Rogelio, are you limping?” Catra asked without turning. Of course Catra would spot the slightest weakness. Catra stalked back to Rogelio. Everyone but Adora stopped walking as Catra eyed Rogelio over. Seeing the bandage covering his leg, Catra got closer to investigate, practically shoving Kyle out of the way to do so. She sniffed a few times before declaring, “Yeah, that’s infected.”

“Hey, what are you doing.” Kyle tried to protest, but Catra ignored him. 

“Hey Adora, get your magical butt back here.”

Adora came jogging back, with a joking reply: “What about my butt is magical?” 

Catra rolled her eyes and said, “Rogelio is hurt. Can you summon your sword? And you,” she started addressing Rogelio, “ Sit .”

The command had enough force behind it that Rogelio obeyed. Catra started unwinding the makeshift bandage that Rogelio had applied himself. When Catra finished, Lonnie couldn't stop herself from gasping. There was a long, deep cut that started at the knee and meandered down the ankle. Around the edges of the cut, Rogelio's scales were turning white and a yellow pus was oozing out. Lonnie felt her stomach turn at the sight of her friend’s injury. This was bad enough to kill if left untreated, not that they had anything to treat it with.

“And just when were you planning on telling us it was this bad?” Lonnie asked Rogelio. 

“For the honor of Grayskull!” Adora yelled, summoning her sword.

It was unnecessary to burden you with stress of something beyond your control, Rogelio’s response was logical to a fault.

Kyle grabbed She-Ra’s arm, yelling, “You can’t just cut off his leg!”

“No you don’t understand” She-Ra lifted her arm up, pulling Kyle along with it. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Well if you had told us, then maybe we could have done something to put it in our-” Lonnie started to say before an outburst from Catra silenced everyone.

“Everyone. Shut! Up!” Breathing heavy, Catra glared at each of them in turn. She took a few seconds to collect herself before continuing much calmer than before. “There’s no need to argue right now about what has happened. She-Ra has the ability to heal. She doesn’t use the sword to do it but she has to be transformed. Now, Adora, if you don’t mind.”

She-Ra knelt beside the sitting lizard and placed a hand on the laceration. Rogelio flinched at the contact, but didn’t say anything. The underside of She-Ra’s hand started to glow with a warm light. Like neon honey, the light spread down the cut, bright enough that it was hard to look at. Slowly the drops of light sunk into Rogelio’s scales, like a towel soaking up water. When it was done, there was no longer a cut and the scales were back to the right color. Catra took the rags that Rogelio had used to wrap the wound and wiped off the remaining pus, revealing a jagged scar. 

Catra stood up and tossed the rag away from herself. Dismissively she said, “There, now you don’t smell so bad.”

Kyle helped Rogelio to his feet. Rogelio huffed as he experimented with putting his weight on it. Adora released her transformation and smiled. “It will hurt for a bit, I’m sorry about that.”

Nonsense, this is exceptional. Rogelio hissed back. 

“Come on you dorks. I’m not going to miss dinner because you can’t keep up.” Catra called over her shoulder, not stopping. Adora hurried up to catch up to her and the other three started walking again as well, but they hung back far enough to be out of earshot. 

“That certainly wasn’t very Catra-y,” Kyle ventured. 

“No, that was definitely different.” Lonnie agreed.

Yet she gives the pretense of apathy, Rogelio added. 

They walked for a while before arriving at the camp, and Lonnie couldn’t imagine a less likely location for a princess to choose to hang out. It was one of the massive skulls that were scattered around the Crimson Wastes; it was three times taller than any of them, even partially buried in the sand. Smoke was threading its way through an eye-socket pointed at the stars above. 

Adora walked past the jaw bones filled with teeth longer than her arms and declared their presence while pushing past a tarp that served as a  makeshift door. “Perfuma, we’re back. And we brought company. Oh wow. You’ve been busy.”

“That’s nice. Are they hungry? The soup is almost done and I can- Ah, always slice up more Cactimelons.” Lonnie noticed Purfuma’s stutter when the princess caught sight of the three dirty Horde soldiers that Adora and Catra had dragged in, but Lonnie was too busy looking around the inside of the skull. It was oddly… Cozy. 

Instead of the expected sand, there was some sort of wooden material that was twisted together to form a solid floor. Some of the same material was raised up in the form of three chairs surrounding a small campfire lined with stones. A pot was suspended over the fire with a trivet, and a delicious smell was radiating from the bubbling liquid inside. Several flowering cacti lined the walls of the skull brought some color to otherwise dull shelter. A few branches had grown out of the floor to form hooks for lanterns that illuminated everything. For what felt like the twentieth time that night, Lonnie could barely believe her eyes. “Wow.”

“Thank you. Catra picked the spot, and I’m sure that it has all of the tactical advantages she said it does, but it had such negative vibes that I just had to do some redecorating. Here, let me pull you up some chairs.” This last sentence Perfuma said while starting to glow. She raised her hands and the floor buckled under them. Three knots started to form, and then burst upwards into an additional three chairs. “I’ll get some more food ready.”

“Perfuma, this is Rogelio, Kyle, and Lonnie.” Adora said, pointing to them in turn. “Everyone, this is Purfuma, ruler of Plumeria. I’m pretty sure that you haven’t been introduced, but you have fought each other, which isn’t really meeting someone. Like it kind of-”

“I’m sure we’ll all be happier if we put off of that behind us.” Perfuma stopped Adora’s ramblings with a hand on Adora’s shoulder and her words. “Why don’t you tell me about yourselves?”  

Lonnie raised an eyebrow at that. She could recall this woman summoning a construct the size of a castle to crush Horde soldiers and now Perfuma was just making casual conversation with them as if they hadn't been on opposite sides of a decades long war. Perfuma was also wielding a knife that she was using to slice some sort of thick rinded fruit. Lonnie had always assumed that princesses wouldn’t ever do something as menial as prepare their own food, so it was unexpected to see how skillfully Perfuma worked. Adora sat down on one of the wooden chairs and everyone but Perfuma followed her example. It wasn’t until she sat down that Lonnie realized how sore her feet were. She didn’t need to take off her boots to know that there were blistered on both her heels.

“Well the five of us were orphans taken in by the Horde and raised to be soldiers.” Kyle said. He was never one to resist following a command. “We grew up as a squad.”

“Five?” Perfuma looked from her cutting board and recounted. Her face brightened with a smile when she realized. “Oh, you knew Catra and Adora?”

“Knew them. We slept in the same room together since we were five. We ate together, trained together, fought together. We even figured that we would die together. One of Shadow Weaver’s hand-picked teams.” Lonnie couldn’t keep the undertone of bitterness out of her voice completely. At Shadow Weaver’s name, Catra and Adora shared a look that Lonnie couldn’t decipher.

“You tell them, I can’t do it while keeping a civil tongue.” Catra said, clearly trying and failing to keep her voice level.

“Shadow Weaver is dead.” Adora’s statement was blunt and straight to the point; typical for her. Lonnie felt her stomach drop, a moment of stunned emptiness that was followed by a rush of emotions. Sadness, love, loss, relief, hate, and anger all swirled in her chest. “She died fighting a First Ones guardian that Horde Prime possessed.”

Lonnie glanced around the room. Catra had buried her claws deep into the chair she was sitting in. Rogelio was staring at the floor, introspective. Adora was leaning forward, elbows on her knees. Perfuma was watching them all, her palms together and fingertips partially obscuring her concerned expression. Kyle’s brow was furled, but there was a tear forming at the corner of his eye. At least Lonnie wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to feel. The silence grew to an uncomfortable length.

“Um, Melog’s coming back to see why everyone is upset. So nobody freak out, okay?” Catra broke the silence. The tarp over the entrance to the camp moved, as if someone had pulled it open slightly, and then fell back into place. A slight ripple, like a heatwave coming off of the sand, disturbed the air before a creature materialized in front of them. A slightly glowing blue mane and tail bracketed a feline body. Its hair shifted colors as the light hit it from different angles, from blue to red, and every shade of purple between them. The creature walked up to Catra and put its head in her lap, making a strange echoing, rumbling sound as it did. Catra scratched it gently behind its ears.

“Oh. I get it. I’m dreaming.” Lonnie had finally figured it out. There was no way that all of this was real. Catra and Adora kissing, Catra showing compassion, Shadow Weaver dead, a princess making dinner for them, none of it was real. It was all just a fever dream, likely brought on by some cactus juice she had drunk or something.

The peals of laughter coming from everyone else in the camp were also part of the dream. 

“Tell me about it.” Catra said, seemingly agreeing. “I still wonder if I’m going to wake up at some point and be back in our bunk room.”

“Are you saying that you’ve been dreaming of hooking up with me since we were teenagers?” Adora teased. The tension from moments before was broken, and the six occupants of the skull started chatting. They avoided serious topics, such as the war, by unspoken agreement. 

Perfuma soon served dinner, and Lonnie had never tasted anything so good. There wasn’t much soup to go around, since Perfuma had originally only planned to feed three people, but it was unlike anything the Horde soldiers had ever had. The limited quantity of the soup was made up for with the amount of catimellons that Perfuma had sliced. Two huge platters had been set on either side of the campfire and everyone had dug into them without hesitation. 

A few moments would later stand out in Lonnie’s memory: Perfuma listening to Rogelio recall an intricate story, trying to understand his growling language; Kyle falling asleep while leaning on Rogelio’s shoulder and the others sharing knowing grins; laughing when Kyle woke up again in utter confusion; and the looks on Catra and Adora’s faces when Lonnie told Perfuma how the pair used to share a bed as kids, Catra’s embarrassment and Adora’s sappy smile. 

The campfire was burning low when Catra spoke up after being silent for a long while. She was petting Melog, who was curled up in her lap, much smaller than before. “You guys. Kyle, Rogelio, Lonnie… I need to apologise.”

Everyone looked at her, but Catra avoided their eyes. “When Hordak put me in charge of the Horde’s operations, I really lost it. I treated you guys like dirt. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t called for, and- If the two of you don’t stop giving me puppy-dog eyes, I’m going to push you into the next quicksand pit we come across tomorrow!”

Perfuma and Adora didn’t seem at all phased by Catra’s rebuke growled at them; it did nothing to diminish their smiles. Adora’s response was slightly smug, “Oh, we weren’t saying anything.”

Catra took another deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, for sending you into danger, for not acknowledging how much you were helping me, and for not listening to you. And I know that apologizing doesn't change the fact that I was an awful person, and you don’t have to forgive me, I wouldn’t, but I am trying to be a better friend.”

Lonnie felt some tension in her shoulders relax, she hadn’t realized that they were tense before that. She studied Catra’s face as the former Horde commander rushed to get the words out. This was the most sincere that Lonnie had ever seen Catra. There was no posturing, no advantage to be gained, only honest regret. “I realized a lot of stuff when I was on Horde Prime’s ship. I thought that I was chasing a future where I could be happy, but what I was really doing was running from my pain. And I’m not going to do that anymore. So yeah, I’m sorry.”

There was a silence following Catra’s apology while the others mulled over what she had said. Rogelio was the first to speak. It is obvious that you are actually repentant. I accept your apology.

“I’ll be happy if we can just be friends again.” Kyle followed. 

Lonnie stared at Catra over the embers of the dying campfire; the other woman was looking down at her lap. Catra’s face was blank, she only nodded slightly at Rogelio and Kyle’s statements. However her ears were pointed forward, listening intently. Lonnie knew how much effort this must have taken, she couldn’t remember Catra ever apologizing for anything. “Catra?”

Catra looked up and her blue and gold eyes locked with Lonnie’s gray eyes. Lonnie continued, “Are you telling me that it took being abducted by an intergalactic alien warlord for you to feel guilty for all the shit you’ve done?”

“Heh, no. I’ve always felt guilty. Everytime.” Lonnie could see that Catra’s eye grew more moist with her words. “But I kept pushing it back. Until I broke.”

Lonnie stood up and circled the fire until she was in front of Catra. She reached out and put a hand on her old friend’s shoulder. Lonnie couldn’t find the words she needed to express what she was thinking. Too much had happened, good and bad, but this was a new day. 

“Catra…” Lonnie tried to start to explain, but the words she needed still weren’t there. Instead she took a page out of Scopia’s book and pulled Catra towards her and wrapped her arms around Catra’s back. Catra was stiff for a moment, but then relaxed and returned the embrace. Lonnie had half expected to get clawed for her efforts, so this was a pleasant surprise. Lonnie whispered in Catra’s ear, “But if you ever go back to the way you were, I will kick your ass.”

“Good. I’d deserve it.” Catra replied as they pulled apart.

Chapter Text

Catra woke up when she felt someone's fingers stroking her face. She could feel the adrenaline rush through her and her eyes snap open, only to look into Adora’s sky blue orbs. They were way closer together then they had been when they went to sleep the night before, having spaced out their blankets slightly. Adora was giving her usual dopey grin, but there was an element of humor in her expression as well. At first Catra thought that Adora was laughing at her startled expression. She opened her mouth to call Adora an idiot, but Adora quickly held a finger up to her lips. She jerked her head to the side, and Catra looked in the direction of the gesture. 

On the other side of their makeshift camp, the other former Horde soldiers were practically on top of each other. Apparently Catra and Adora weren’t the only ones to get closer together over the course of the night. Rogelio was curled up on his side, and his tail was draped over the other two. Kyle had his back pressed up against Rogelio’s belly. Lonnie wasn’t quite as close to the other two, but she did have one hand on Kyle’s arm. Catra suppressed a laugh, instead just grinning at Adora. 

With the grace and silence of a trained assassin, Catra rose to a crouching position and moved over to Perfuma, who was still asleep. Shaking her gently, Catra woke her up the same way that Adora had, with a finger over her lips to quiet her before she could say anything. When the princess saw the bundle that was Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio, she almost squealed. Adora stood up and squared her shoulders before taking a deep breath. 

Catra laughed silently, knowing what was coming. Perfuma was a bit slower on the uptake, but still managed to whisper, “Don’t you dare!”

“Ahten-shun!” Adora bellowed in her best drill sergeant yell. “All troops report for double latrine cleaning duty!”

Catra finally let her laugh become audible as the three soldiers struggled to detangle themselves as fast as possible. Kyle and Rogelio both stood up and snapped to attention, Lonnie just grabbed Kyle’s blanket and yanked it over herself. When they realized where they were, Rogelio chuffed with laughter and Kyle looked slightly betrayed before smiling. Lonnie just groaned from under the blankets. 

“That wasn’t very friendly, Adora.” Perfuma chastised. “Well, since everyone is already awake, we should have breakfast.”

See how they accept Adora. If you had been so disruptive, they would have punished you. Adora is good and you are-

Catra shook her head to clear it. She set about to help strike camp, rolling up blankets and repacking supplies. Working with her hands helped her focus on something other than her own thoughts. Perfuma handed out some Plumerian ration bars, which were so different from Horde ration bars that they shouldn’t even be called the same thing. Horde ration bars were homogeneous extrusions of mechanically mixed nutrients. Plumerian ration bars were handcrafted loafs of bread with a filling of various dried fruit and nuts inside. Catra half listened to the conversation going on as she packed.

“Where are you guys going?” Kyle asked. The avoidance of serious topics last night had meant that their groups hadn’t discussed either’s plans. 

“We’re traveling to the Valley of the Lost so that we can contact Huntara. We haven’t heard from her since Horde Prime started his invasion. We’re hoping to talk to her before I release the magic here in the Crimson Wastes.” Adora’s explanation was straight forward. “Scorpia wanted to come with us, but she was too busy taking over the Fright Zone.”

“She what?” Lonnie asked, startled.

“Yeah, the princesses decided that since the Fright Zone was Scorpia’s family’s kingdom, that she is the rightful heir to it.”

“But this is Scorpia we’re talking about!”

“That’s what I said.” Catra joined in. The Fright Zone was full of people waiting to stab Scorpia in her broad, trusting back.

“Why does everyone keep doubting Scorpia?” Purfuma’s voice was more shrill than normal. 

“Huntara, Huntara, I’ve heard that name.” Kyle tapped his temple. He looked so deep in thought that he may have completely missed the rest of the conversation. “I think that one of the gangs we ran into mentioned her, they said she got chipped.”

Catra’s hand went instinctively to her neck. The scar was still slightly red, and her fur hadn’t covered the area. Entrapta had explained that the chip that Prime had used on her was different than the ones used on the other Etherians. It had been more refined, allowing Prime more access to her, and in turn, allowing her greater access to his hivemind. It had also needed to be surgically implanted, while the other chips were mostly just placed on the skin of their host. Perfuma stopped her from thinking more about her chip by handing her a ration bar. “Here you go.”

Catra took the offered food. “Thanks.”

“Are you feeling alright?” 

Catra didn’t reply to Perfuma’s question, the princess already knew the answer. The two of them had briefly talked about a few topics, Prime, Adora, Scorpia, Shadow Weaver, the thoughts in her head that wouldn’t shut up. To say that Catra had been reluctant to share her feelings at first would be an understatement. The princess had been patient, but also persistent. Catra had eventually opened up slightly. Perfuma called it ‘therapy’ and said that they needed to do a lot more of it. Catra had only agreed after Perfuma had swore on her life to keep their conversations secret. 

 “I’m going to mediate a bit before we head out, would you like to join me?” Perfuma extended her hand. 

“Let me finish this bar first.” Perfuma smiled at Catra’s reply and slipped out of the skull. She wasn’t sure why she got along with Perfuma. The girl was all smiles and flowers, often irrationally friendly. She thought that it was because Perfuma respected the boundaries that she set. She munched on the ration bar, which was filled with a smoky flavored nut and what Catra thought was honey, and tuned back into what Adora was saying. 

“-everything was just covered in plants. There was this moss and flowers growing like crazy, then these birds I’ve never seen before flew over in a flock. It was pretty wide. Later we found these huge boar-like animals that had been sleeping, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Man, I wish we had been there when it happened.” Kyle was transfixed by Adora’s story. Lonnie and Rogelio were as well, but they were hiding it better. 

“Well, you might get the chance. I only released a chunk of Etheria’s magic. I want to do the same to the ‘Wastes, but I need to talk to Huntara so we can prepare first.”

“What do you need to prepare for?” Lonnie asked. “It sounds like you didn’t do any preparation the first time.”

“Remember how I said that there were sleeping creatures that suddenly woke up? Well,” Adora gestured to the bone walls of the skull they were sitting in, “I’m not sure what I’ll wake up here.”

“Oh.” Kyle exclaimed. “Maybe I don’t want to be there when you unleash the magic.”

Catra finished her bar and went to find Perfuma. She had gone over their plan several times with Glimmer and Adora, and had even been the one to point out that the massive bones in the ‘Wastes might not belong to an extinct species. Seeing as other unknown animals had reappeared after the first burst of magic from the Heart of Etheria. Glimmer also wanted their group to touch bases with Huntara to see how the people of the ‘Wastes were fairing after Horde Prime’s invasion. It was the first step in a larger master plan that the Alliance was working from to restore peace to Etheria. 

 She found Perfuma sitting with her back to the skull, facing the sunrise. Perfuma always meditated with her long legs crossed, hands on her knees. Catra sat beside her and emulated the position without saying anything. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her head.

It is pathetic how scared you are of your own memories. But then again, being pathetic is nothing new for you, so this isn’t a surprise.

Catra tried to picture the thought as being a leaf on a stream, like Perfuma had taught her. Letting it drift away without it touching her. When Perfuma had tried to explain the exercise to Catra the first time, Catra had complained that she didn’t like water. Perfuma suggested picturing a conveyor belt instead, which turned out to be less peaceful than the stream; so Catra went back to picturing a stream. The thought-leaf drifted away from her on her imaginary stream.

How ignorant to think that your imagination could be useful. Always imagining, Catra is. Imagining that she could be successful, imagining that she isn’t a pitiful mess, imagining that she is loved-

Catra stood up quickly enough to make Perfuma open her eyes. “Yeah, this isn’t working for me today.”

“Okay. We should probably finish getting ready, we have a long way to go today.” Perfuma said, standing up. 

It was then that Adora stuck her head past the tarp. “Hey do you guys mind if these guys come with us?”

“Of course not.”

“Eh, If they want to.” Catra shrugged. 

A few minutes later and they were heading out. Perfuma, Adora, and Catra all donning their cloaks. The cloaks had been another one of Catra’s suggestions, they kept the sun off of them, kept them warm at night, and, most importantly, kept some of the sand out of Catra’s fur. Melog mewed a greeting to Catra before shrinking down to the size of a housecat and perched on top of her backpack. They had kept watch for most of the night, and was going to catch up on their sleep while the group was hiking. Adora led the way, with Rogelio close behind her, Kyle and Perfuma engaged in a conversation in the middle, and Catra and Lonnie in the back. Catra had to admit to herself that it felt nice to see her old friends again.

These are not your friends, they are Adora’s friends. They are only nice to you because they pity you. You are the feral animal that Adora took in and they don’t want to upset the hero of Eth-

Melog’s tongue against her ear was a welcome distraction. No one could read her like Melog could, likely because they were telepathic. Occasionally, Catra found it frustrating that she couldn’t lie to her companion, but most of the time it was nice not having to bother with a facade, with one person at least. Catra reached up and scratched her companion’s nebulous mane. Lonnie noticed the action and asked, “So what’s that thing’s deal?”

“They have a name you know.” Catra bristled at the lack of a pronoun. Melog whispered in her mind, a soft reassurance that it was acceptable, and Catra replied to them verbally. “No, it’s not fine. She should treat you with respect.”

Melog’s response was humbling, pointing out both how Catra had first reacted to them on Krytis and pointing out that Catra was getting irrationally angry. She relented, “Fine. Lonnie, this is Melog. We found them on a planet when we were looking for some weakness of Prime’s that we could exploit. We let them come with us because they were lonely, and they took a liking to me.”

Once the conversation was started, Catra was surprised at how easy it was to continue. She talked about Krytis for a while, then other aspects of the Best Friend Squad’s adventures in space. She carefully left out her time on Prime’s ship, some memories were still too painful for casual conversation. Lonnie in turn told her about how the three Horde soldiers had escaped the Fright Zone during Horde Prime’s invasion. She laughed when Lonnie told her about how the trio rescued Imp and flinched when Lonnie explained why they had started leaving before Etheria was warped out of Despondos. Their conversation lasted long enough that Catra began to notice landmarks that indicated they were getting close to their destination.

“Have you been to the Valley of the Lost?” Catra asked.

“No, this place was crawling with chipped people and clones. Have you?”

“Yeah. This place is a lot like the Fright Zone actually, only with less rules and order.”

“Sounds like you would fit right in.”

Catra smiled. “You should have seen me when Hordak banished me here. It took me less than a week to take over the two largest gangs here. If it wasn’t for my huge ego and how much I loathed Shadow Weaver, I’d probably still be ruling this place with Scorpia as my right hand woman.” 

“I’ll have to ask Scorpia how much of that’s true the next time I see her.”

“It was her idea to stay. I don’t think it would have worked out in the end though.’ Catra gazed at the blonde-haired woman leading the pack. 

“Adora wasn’t happy being your prisoner, huh?” 

“She was pretty pissed at me.”

She wasn’t just mad at you Catra, she hated you. Loathed you with every fiber of her being. 

It was then that the party reached the edge of the Valley. Hundreds of small, poorly constructed buildings spread out for miles below them. Rope bridges criss-crossed the canyon to allow for easier routes. Building materials were sparse in the Crimson Wastes, so anything that could be used was. Sheet metal, tarps, and mud were popular. Catra distinctly remembered a house built out of a scrapped Horde tank the last time she had been here. She joined Adora at the front of the group. Adora was smiling in satisfaction and Catra knew she was excited to see this ‘Huntara.’

Catra was distinctly less excited. Huntara’s gang was one of the two that she had taken control of, alongside Tung Lashor’s. However, Huntara had not been left to die in a pit of quicksand, and Catra would have to actually face her. Surveying the city, she noticed that there were fewer people about. Not surprising considering what Kyle had mentioned earlier. The people of the Crimson Wastes valued their independence, having Horde Prime come in and take that away would have forced many to flee. 

“We should keep a low profile here, at least until we know what’s going on.” Catra stated. The others murmured in agreement. As they made their way into the valley, Catra was glad they hadn’t strutted in like they owned the place. Even wearing cloaks, they clearly stood out from the typical occupant of the Valley of the Lost. Almost everyone shot a lingering glance at the group. She knew that her group could take on anyone that threatened them, but if it had been just her, Adora, and Perfuma, they would have looked like an easy mark. Rogelio’s bulk and Lonnie’s holstered blaster were enough discouragement to keep some unwitting scum from making the worst mistake of their lives. 

The Valley of the Lost wasn’t a kingdom, it had no governing body, no law enforcement, only a loose social structure based on allegiances. As such, there wasn’t some central building built to rule from. That wasn’t to say there wasn’t a building in which important decisions were made. 

“We’re here.” Catra announced, stopping in front of the closest thing to a town hall in the Crimson Wastes. 

“Um, Catra, are you sure?” Adora questioned, eyeing the building over. Two humans were propped up against the front, asleep next to a rather large puddle of vomit. The walls were made of wood that had clearly been salvaged from shipping crates and there were no windows. A sign above the door read ‘Chocko’s Tavurn’ in messy, hand-painted letters. 

“It might have changed, but this is where all the gang leaders would meet up last time I was here.” Catra was slightly uncomfortable, one of the drunks was wearing a jacket with a familiar logo, a snake biting its own tail. She opened the door and walked through. As she did so, she dipped her head so her cloak would better hide her face and tried to act casual. It wouldn’t be the best idea to attract attention to herself to start with. 

The act wasn’t necessary though, the scene inside the tavern was rowdy enough that Catra imagined that she could have kicked the door of its hinges and no one would have noticed. A yelling match was taking place in the center of the room. A large round table was surrounded by a bunch of gang leaders, all trying to be the loudest. Jeers and yells were coming from every corner of the room, as half intoxicated members cheered their leaders on. Catra wrinkled her nose at both the disturbing smell of the room and the sight of one of the leaders at the table. Of course someone had pulled him out of the sand where she had left him for dead. 

How is it possible for you to be such a failure? You can't even finish off a thug like Tung Lashor.

Catra felt Adora’s hand on her shoulder and realized she was blocking the door. She moved aside so the others could come in. Adora took in the scene in front of her and then nudged Catra and exclaimed, “Look, there she is.”

Adora’s voice wasn’t louder than the general din of the room, but it was enough to attract the attention of some nearby thugs wearing snake jackets. One of them pointed at the group and yelped loud enough to be heard throughout the room, “Is that Catra?!”

Catra swore under her breath as the room went very quiet. She shrugged out of her backpack’s straps and threw back her hood. She still had some sort of reputation here, what kind, she wasn’t sure. She took a few steps forward to separate herself from her group and let everyone stare at her. She brought a hand up and inspected her claws, feigning disinterest. 

“ Catra …” Tung Lashor’s hiss boiled with hatred and his hand wrapped around the handle of his whip. 

“Careful there Lashor, you know there’s no fighting during our meetings.” The purple woman opposite Tung said with a smirk. Catra recognized her from when she had ambushed Adora. That must be Huntara.

“That rule is only for us, Catra is an outsider!” 

“Oh Tung Lashor ,” Catra said, drawing out the name and chuckling, “after all we’ve been through, you still consider me to be an outsider? The way I see it, I’ve earned my seat at this table”

As she spoke, Catra grabbed a chair from another table and pulled it over to beside where Huntara was standing. Huntara barked out a few laughs as Catra draped herself over the chair. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Lonnie had a hand on Adora’s shoulder, restraining her. Catra would have to thank her for that later. She loved Adora, but that idiot couldn’t do politics to save her life. A fact that Catra had used in the past to her advantage. And none of the people at this table could be trusted, herself included.

Catra knew that Tung Lashor wasn’t going to let her get away with this, it wouldn’t be long before he challenged her. If not before the meet was over, then definitely afterwards. But first she had to figure out the power dynamics. Adora had told her that Huntara would be in charge, but that wasn’t what Catra saw here. Huntara was, at best, balanced against Tung Lashor. She had gotten that much from before her appearance had brought the discussion to a standstill. She needed more information. She glanced around the table casually, pretending to just notice that everyone was staring at her. “You may continue.”

“And why should we listen to you?” One of the gang leaders, Catra couldn’t place either his furry head or his deep, rumbling voice. An oversized hammer was sitting next to him and he was resting his hand on its pummel. A visible show of force that Catra couldn’t match on her own. In her mind she called Melog to come to her.

“Because I’m the strongest in the ‘Wastes.” Everyone bristled at her statement. Catra gathered that such egotistical claims were generally frowned on during these cooperative meetings. Some growled or muttered exclamations, and a few even started drawing their weapons. They all stopped suddenly, staring not at Catra, but behind her. Catra reached back and gave Melog a scratch down their neck. They had increased in size to the point where their head could easily rest on top of Catra’s, even if she had been standing. “Now, weren’t you discussing something?”

“Yeah, Tung Lashor was just about to concede that-” Huntara started.

“I wasn’t about to concede anything! You were about to accept that-”

The yelling picked up full force again, and Catra observed. There were several issues in play: many had run from the city to avoid being chipped, and hadn’t returned; Huntara wanted to open relations with some of the princesses’ kingdoms; there were still packs of clones and Horde bots attacking; and there wasn’t enough food to go around. Many of the leaders made jabs at Huntara, who had apparently stayed in the city for too long and ended up chipped and under Prime’s control, an apparent weakness. Huntara still had some reputation, but if this continued, her support would wither away. Leaving the snakeman in charge

“Well Tung Lashor-” One of Tung Lashor’s supporters started to say before Catra cut him off with a cackle. 

“Every time I hear it, it just gets funnier.” Catra wiped away a non-existent tear. “Are you sure you don’t want to change your name to something less embarrassing, Tung Lashor? Maybe you could change it to Whipped Boy.”

“ You- ” Tung Lashor was trying to keep his cool, but Catra could see the rage burning behind his eyes. A little more pushing would have him over the edge. “I will pay you back for what you did to me!”

“Oh, what did I do to you? I can’t remember.” Catra feigned ignorance, eyes wide and innocent. 

If Tung Lashor hadn’t already knocked over his chair, he would have done it again as he lurched against the table, hammering a fist down and yelling so loud his voice went coarse. “ I will rip your tail off and use it as a belt! ”

 “Pretty brave words there. I know you’re afraid to fight me. It’s okay to admit it.”

Tung Lashor's eyes narrowed, and his tongue flicked out wildly from his mouth as he hissed. " You. And me. Right now. Outside."

"No." Catra's reply was level, even though her heart was beating like a drum. "I want a crowd."

Tung Lashor grinned way too widely at that. "The arena then! Go and tell everyone! Everyone that wants to see this Horde brat torn limb from limb should be at the arena in an hour! There will be blood! "

The gathered gang members cheered as Tung Lashor addressed them. The snake man turned his back to the table and headed for the door. Catra couldn't resist a parting jab. "I'll be disappointed when you don't show up, Tung Lashor. "

"Don't worry about that. I'm not the one who runs from problems."

Catra tried and failed to keep her ears from flicking back in annoyance. She also couldn't keep her eyes from glancing over at Adora. The blonde woman was glaring daggers daggers into Tung Lashor’s retreating back. Adora had asked why she had run off last night, scampering out of their camp without a word. Catra had lied and said that she had heard something out there. The lies still came easier to her than the truth.

Once she finds out how pitiful you are, Adora will leave you. 

Several of the other gang members got up and left, following Tung Lashor. The meeting was clearly over, at least until after the duel. Adora practically ran over to Catra’s side, and Catra could tell that her girlfriend was about to wrap her up in a tight embrace. And Catra wanted it, but she could also tell that there were dozens of eyes still trained on her. Having a comforting snuggle right now would compromise their mission. And Catra’s pride.

“So you’re Huntara?” Adora was closing in and reached one arm out to hug, but Catra grabbed the arm instead, pulling Adora too far forward to get her arm around Catra. She didn’t resist the tug, but Catra could see that she was a little confused, and maybe a little hurt. So Catra compromised; she wrapped her own arm around Adora, pinning the other woman’s arms to her sides. She continued without missing a beat and a wide smirk, “I believe you’ve already met my girlfriend, Adora.”

 Huntara laughed again as Adora complained, “Catra, what are you doing?”

The table was completely cleared out, just leaving the three of them there. Huntara leaned in towards Catra, gripping one fist with her other hand and flexing. Her words game out deep, low, and threatening. “Yeah. What are you doing? Because the last two times I saw you, you were attacking me and my friends. Including Adora. So tell me kitten, what-”

“Um. No.” Adora slapped her hand down on the table between them. Huntara straightened up slightly in surprise. Adora’s other hand reached back a stroked Catra’s mane, the possessive justure a little awkwardly due to her position. “No one calls Catra that, except me.”

Catra would have rather Adora not reveal that nickname of hers, but was glad she didn’t have to challenge Huntara on it herself. Best not to push away the people you wanted to be your allies. She spoke up, “To answer both of your questions, I am trying to help.”

Huntara and Adora both stared at her blankly. Further explanation was needed. “Ugh, Tung Lashor is winning right now. More of the gangs are supporting him rather than Huntara, right?” Huntara nodded. “So if we want to reduce his influence we have to go back to basics. ‘The strong make the rules,’ so we show that we’re stronger than him.”

“Ooo, ooo, are you going to actually befriend him instead of fighting him to show how strong love can be?” Perfuma had joined them at the table. Another sharp laugh from Huntara.

“Yes, of course.”

“Really?”

“No! He’ll be lucky if I don’t eviscerate him.” Adora and Perfuma both looked disappointed with her, so Catra tried dialing it back. “Look, it took the literal end of the world for me to learn how strong love was. I don’t think we want to recreate that scenario for Tung Lashor. The real question is why haven’t you done this already?” 

Huntara stopped howling in laughter to stare at Catra’s pointing finger. “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t challenge another leader without a full fledged war. It wouldn’t just be me verses Tung, it would be our whole gangs fighting to the death. And since the two of us have enough alliances, everyone would lose.”

“Good. I can work with that.” Catra narrowed her eyes in concentration. A leader-on-leader fight would be bad, any two gangs fighting would be bad, but she wasn’t-

“Catra, are you really going to fight him?” Adora was concerned.

“Yes, I’m going to fight him. It’s the quickest way to handle this situation.”

 “Well, I could fight him for you.”

Even Adora thinks that you’re useless. A helpless animal that needs to be taken care of. 

Catra felt a mix of anger and shame rise up in her gut. She wanted to grab Adora by the collar and yell at her. Tell her that she could take care of herself, she didn’t have to hide behind She-Ra’s skirt like a coward. It took her a second too long to realize that that wasn’t what she really wanted. 

Adora’s shocked expression was just a hand’s width away from her own face when Catra shut her mouth over the words just on her tongue. She let go of Adora’s shirt and smoothed out the wrinkles with her palm, fingers trembling slightly. She could see the confusion and hurt in Adora’s eyes, an expression that was painfully familiar to Catra. How could Adora love her so much and understand so little?

There was a slight noise to their side. Perfuma had made a slightly strangled sound in her throat, as if the only thing keeping her from speaking was keeping her jaw clamped shut. Catra could guess what she might have said, some stupid shit about not resorting to violence or to take a deep breath and use her words. Catra had lashed out at the princess enough that she had started getting the idea when to keep her mouth shut though. 

Catra took a quick breath through her nose and let it out before speaking, “Adora… Sorry, that wasn’t right, but… Please don’t treat me like a delicate object.”

The confusion was gone, but the hurt lingered, and Catra hated herself for it. Another addition to the long list of injuries that Catra had inflicted on Adora. Catra reached up and put a hand on the back of Adora’s head and pulled her in close. In her ear Catra whispered softly enough that only she could hear, “I need you to trust me.”

Catra couldn’t see Adora’s face, but she could feel the tension under her hand suddenly relax. She smiled as Adora whispered back. “Oh, oh . Okay. I’m sorry.”

Catra wondered if Adora actually understood. The insecurity, the fear of failure, of being weak, abandoned… They pulled apart and there was no more hurt in Adora’s eyes as she said, “We should talk more, later.”

Catra nodded in agreement. There were too many onlookers at this moment. As the silence stretched on a little too long, Huntara suddenly pretended to notice that Perfuma was with them. “Flower Girl! What are you doing back in the ‘Wastes?”

“I came to see my friend.” Perfuma’s voice was a little higher and her words came out slightly faster than normal. Seeing Catra almost break down must have stressed her out. 

“Oh-ho, and who would that be?”

“Just a certain Desert Rose.”

“Hrmm, I don’t know anyone named Desert Rose, have you seen her around.” Huntara mimed looking as Perfuma went to hug her. Catra snickered slightly, she wasn’t the only one who had a reputation to uphold.

Chapter Text

The group started catching up and introduced Huntara to Melog, Kyle, Lonnie and Rogelio. Adora and Perfuma did most of the talking. As they talked, they ordered food from the bar. Catra didn’t eat much, she didn’t want too many calories right before a big fight, they would slow her down. Instead, she remembered the previous time she had fought Tung Lashor, retracing his movements in her mind.

That fight had been a slight revelation to her. Whenever she had fought against other Horde cadets, the rebellion, or even She-Ra, especially She-Ra, most of her opponents had held back. Lethal attacks had been frowned on, underhanded tactics were cheating, and the goal was to subdue your opponent, not kill them. Tung Lashor had wanted her dead, well, humiliated and then dead. Likely that would be his goal this time as well.

After a while, Catra interrupted Adora’s explanation of what returning magic to the Crimson Wastes might do and declared that it was time to go. She let Huntara lead the way through the mostly deserted streets. They passed almost no one, and the people they did see yelled and jeered at them. News of the fight had spread and everyone was heading to, or already at the arena. 

“I still don’t like this.” Adora insisted on holding her hand. Catra had been reluctant to let her, but eventually relented. The grip felt nice. “It feels wrong.”

“It is wrong.” Perfuma agreed. “Disputes shouldn’t be settled with death matches. They should be resolved by talking and mediation.”

“You’re right.” Catra also agreed. “But that’s not how they handle things here. If we put Huntara in charge though, she can work on that. Bring some order to the ‘Wastes. That’s what I’m trying to do. One act of violence to secure a new era of peace.”

“You know it won’t be that simple right? People don’t change overnight, let alone whole civilisations.”

“No. Nothing is ever that simple. What have you been telling non-stop for the past two weeks? ‘Some things take time, Catra.’” Catra threw Perfuma’s own words back at her. “But this should help.” 

The rough hewn stone of the arena was in front of them. Inside they could hear a voice hyping up the crowd. Tung Lashor had some talent for theatrics, Catra had to give him that. Not that he was nearly as elegant as herself. They entered through one of the many arched channels leading in. As soon as they stepped foot in the darkness, Adora hugged Catra tight. The magicat tensed up under the unexpected touch, but reminded herself that it was just Adora.

“Be careful, okay?” She said. “Because if he hurts you… I don’t think I could just stand back and watch.”

Catra relaxed and returned the embrace. “Pissh. As if Tung Lashor could lay a finger on me. I can take care of myself, don’t worry.”

And with that boast, Catra pulled away and walked out into the sunlight. The arena was smaller than she thought it would be, stones about the height of her knees marked out the fighting area, with larger stones rising up in tiers behind them. The spectators didn’t have chairs or benches, just rough cut stone to sit or stand on, and some were even sitting on the row of stone that made up the walls of the ring. Catra couldn’t help but notice that the closest of them had weapons drawn. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she should avoid getting close to the walls. She also noticed that the sand in the arena was several shades darker brown than the sand outside had been, stained with years of blood.

Tung Lashor had his back to her, his whip already drawn. He stuck his arms out and flexed, yelling to the crowd. “When I’m done with her, not even the vultures will want what’s left!”

Catra walked several paces into the ring. The crowd reacted, jeering harder, but Tung Lashor didn’t notice. He was too taken up with mocking his now present foe. Catra knew that she was on a mission, with specific objectives, so she should be serious. Thankfully, one of her objectives happened to be humiliating Tung Lashor to the point where no one would follow him. She stuck out her tongue, crossed her eyes, and copied Tung Lashors poses and he continued to describe how he planned on desecrating her corpse. It wasn’t until the crowd laughed that he realized she was behind him. 

He turned, and Catra half expected him to just charge her instantly. However the leader was waiting to mock her to her face. “The scaredy-cat actually showed up! I’ve been waiting for a rematch for some time now!”

“I was meaning to ask you about that. How did you get out of that sand-pit?” The Horde had taught it’s cadets how to be heard, it was an important battlefield skill to have. Catra projected her voice so that everyone in the arena could hear her as well as they did Tung Lashor. 

“It doesn’t matter. You failed to kill me, and now I’m going to destroy you!”

“I think it really does matter. When I left you for dead, you were neck deep and flailing.” Catra could guess the answer, but she wanted to hear Tung Lashor say it.

“I swam out. A simple technique that everyone here knows.”

“Liar. You should be dead now. Why aren’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter. ” He repeated his first answer. “It’s time for you to pay for your insults!”

Tung Lashor yanked his arm up and flicked his wrist, causing his whip to break the air with a sharp crack. Catra realized then that the new whip was different from the one that she had taken from before. This one had small blades braided into the end, getting hit once would give her dozens of lacerations. The length of the whip also gave him a significant range advantage, Catra had brought no weapon of her own, except her claws. The ring was also the last place that she would have picked to fight, there was no cover that she could use to hide behind. She couldn’t even get up on the walls to get a height advantage on her adversary. 

Tung Lashor’s first strike came straight at her, she sidestepped out of the way, but still winced at the whistle and crack of it flying past her face. Almost as quickly, the whip was retracted. Catra continued to talk, as if they weren’t fighting. “Who was it Tung Lashor? Who pulled you out the moment I turned my back?” A low swing of the whip had Catra jump slightly to avoid having her ankle caught in the barbed leather. “Who was loyal to you, even after seeing you lose?”

“No one pulled me out, I got out myself. And now, I’m going to flay the flesh off of your back!” Tung Lashor aimed another flick of the whip at Catra’s body, but she was already moving. A few steps inside the reach of the weapon and one to the left. As soon as it shot past her, Catra grabbed it, hoping that her hand wouldn’t close on one of the bades. Fortunately for her, most of the blades were closer to the tip. Unfortunately, Tung Lasher was pulling on his end. Catra could either be pulled along with it, or let the blades along its length to cut into her palm. She opted instead to bring her free hand, claws out, down on the leather, cutting the whip in half. 

Tung Lashor’s eyes bulged as the snakeman realized his weapon had been ruined. Catra dropped the remains of the whip, and noticed a few drops of blood fall from her hand with it. One of the blades had made it to the palm of her hand during the brief tug-of-war. The cut was deep, but didn’t hurt at all. Catra realized two things at once. First, the blades were razor sharp, second, they were covered in the paralyzing nectar of one of the cacti species native to the Crimson Wastes. She tried to flex her hand, but her fingers were stiff and didn’t move. She wasn’t surprised by how dirty Tung Lashor was fighting, but she was doubly glad that she had destroyed his weapon. She just hadn’t planned on giving up one of her own in exchange for it. 

“Are they out in the crowd now? If I were them, I would be pretty disappointed that you’re denying their help.” Catra said.

“No. One. Pulled. Me. OUT!” Tung Lashor charged at her, arms swinging wildly. Catra ducked under the blows, realizing at the last second that was what Tung Lashor had planned on. The snakeman’s tail was swinging towards her, and she only had milliseconds to react. Catra launched herself into a leap, keeping the tail from catching her in the chest. It still caught her feet though, and she tumbled midair. She landed on all fours, instantly crouching down and extending a leg, pulling it around in a sweeping kick. Tung Lashor yelled something indecipherable as he felt his legs get knocked out from underneath him. 

Both opponents scrambled to their feet, but Catra was faster. She took the opportunity to swipe at the tail that had just tripped her up, and was rewarded with several shallow cuts near its tip. Tung Lashor howled and spun to face Catra, blood sprinkling the ring from his swinging tail. Catra took several steps back, looking to keep control of the pace of the fight. Neither of them were trading barbs at the moment, they were too focused on winning. 

They traded blows for several beats, Catra landing several cuts with her good hand and Tung Lashor tagging her in her gut with an unexpected tail swing. Even as rage-filled Tung Lashor was, he was still a deadly fighter, but it was starting to become clear who was going to win. Catra was conservitive with her movements, one step to avoid a haymaker here, a light push to redirect a tail strike there. She only counterattacked when the opportunity presented itself, always without the full force of what she could bring to bear. If she had wanted to, this fight would have already been over, but she was here to put on a show and teach a lesson to the Crimson Wastes.

Pulling her punches came naturally to Catra. When training as a cadet, you didn’t want to actually hurt your squadmates. Typically you just needed a decent hit on the training gear to get a win. And when she was fighting against Adora in the war, Catra had never been able to strike to kill, or even mame. 

So pitiful. Claws that can tear through armor plates couldn’t barely even pierce soft flesh. Weak.

The slight hesitation in Catra’s movements was all Tung Lashor needed to land a massive punch. She had put her partly paralyzed hand to deflect a punch aimed at her throat, but it still landed on her shoulder. She felt her feet leave the ground and she landed on her back, looking up at several bloodthirsty members looking down at her from the wall. She could hear more cheering, just realizing that the crowd had been growing quiet for the past few minutes. She could also hear Adora yell, “Catra!”

If she didn’t move soon, she knew that her girlfriend would be in the area, glowing it up. All the work Catra had done to tear down Tung Lashor would be gone, Huntara would lose power, and the Princess Alliance would be rejected. Catra brought her legs up to her chest, and then flung them back down, pulling the rest of her body upwards. This move, a kip up, would normally leave her standing, but she changed it up. Opting instead to stay low to the ground and landing on all fours. Tung Lashor had been strutting towards her prone body, and lifted a leg to kick her while she was still underneath him. 

She went between his legs, almost without thinking. She needed to get away from him, and away from the wall of people who wanted her dead. And his legs had formed a nice arch for her to slip through. Almost as an afterthought, she slashed at the back of his leg. This time she doesn’t hold back, and her claws go deep.

Catra stood up when she reached the center of the ring, and shook the last of the fogginess from the last blow from her head. Tung Lashor was still struggling to stand up, the leg she just cut refusing to obey him. Cruel laughter echoed around the stadium. Some of the laughs were coming from Tung Lashors own supporters. The snakeman started dragging himself toward her, moving his body back and forth. He coiled, and launched himself at her, mouth open wide to sink his fangs into her neck. Catra slammed her hand, claws extended, into the side of his face, knocking him back down.

“You know Tung Lashor, I used to be like you.” Catra leaned over the dazed snakeman. “I was so afraid that people would think that I was weak. So scared that if I let other people help me, they would think of me like a child.”

Tung Lasher responded by trying to grab her leg, which she simply lifted up out his grasp, then brought it back down on his hand. He howled in pain, and Catra suspected that she had broken something. She continued talking, “But you know what I’ve learned? No matter how strong you think you are, sometimes you need someone’s help. I would be dead a dozen times over if it weren’t for the people that helped me. Accepting help doesn’t make you weak, rejecting it does.” 

Catra walked away from him slightly and looked over the crowd. She knew that she was a mess. Blood, mostly Tung Lashor’s, speckled her fur and clothes, she still couldn’t move her right hand, and she could feel a large bruise forming on her shoulder. She raised her arms, gesturing to the crowd. She was met with cheers and calls for her to ‘finish him.’ 

“I am an official envoy of the Princess Alliance!” Catra declared, silencing the crowd again. Catra rotated slowly, picking out individuals to glare at for a few moments before letting her eyes move to the next. “The princesses are willing to help you fuckers get rid of the remainder of the Horde’s influences and open talks regarding the future of the Crimson Wastes. As well as restoring the magic of the Wastes.”

“Liar!” Tung Lashor grunted from the ground. “You’re with the Horde!”

“You know, those princess types are the mushy, forgiving types.” Catra laughed. “They’re willing to grant amnesty to members of the Horde in exchange for good behavior and assistance with reconstruction efforts. But if you want proof, I’m not alone.” 

Catra looked to her group and gestured at them. “I give you Perfuma, Princess of Plumeria, and She-Ra, Princess of Power!”

Adora and Perfuma both shucked their cloaks and Adora transformed by muttering her incantation. The arena echoed with gasps and exclamations of surprise and Catra basked in the shock. The clicking of parts falling into place was a satisfaction that she craved. 

You haven’t actually accomplished anything. You’re just a conniving worm that wants to feel profitable. 

Walking over to Tung Lashor, Catra eyed her beaten opponent. He was still struggling to get to his feet, but his injured leg was still limp and his strength was bleeding out from dozens of cuts. Catra crouched and lowered her voice so that only he could hear her. “So Tung Lashor, I see two options: one, you accept the Princess’s offer of help and you can walk out of here, healed by Goldilocks over there, or two, you refuse and you can drag yourself out of here. If you don’t die of blood loss first. Although I’m sure that if you refuse, Huntara will be happy to have the supplies we were going to give to your gang.”

Tung Lashor’s eyes narrowed as he stared back at Catra. His breaths were ragged and interrupted his own sentence. “And what- huff -do you get- huff -out of- huff -all this?”

Catra smiled in return, glancing quickly up to the beacon of light in the stands. “I already have what I want. What the Princess Alliance wants is stability, and they’re willing to put resources to that end.”

Raising her voice so that the whole arena could hear her again, Catra asked, “Tung Lashor, do you accept the Princess Alliance’s offer of assistance?”

“If the princesses want to help, then I won’t stop them.” Tung Lashor answered. It was only half acceptance, but it was enough for Catra. 

“Huntara, do you accept the offer?” Catra stood and turned towards the other dominant leader.

“I accept.” Huntara replied without hesitation. 

“Do all the other leaders agree?” Catra asked the crowd. She was met with scattered afirmitives. “Then it’s decided. She-Ra, come here.”

Adora made her way to the edge of the ring, gang members scrambling to get out of her way. She-Ra’s face was twisted in anger, a sight that Catra was all too familiar with. For a moment she forgot when she was and took a defensive step back. But those blue eyes weren’t focused on her, they were pointed at Tung Lashor. Adora dropped down to the sand, the jump almost just a step for her taller form, and approached Catra. She reached out her hand and said softly, “Let me see your hand.”

Catra shook her head, also keeping her voice low. “Him first.”

Adora’s brow furrowed in concern, so Catra elaborated. “We need them to believe that we care as much about them as we do ourselves.”

The other girl didn’t look happy about it, but she went over to Tung Lashor. She buried the point of her sword in the sand in front of his face and grabbed his shoulder. Magic flowed out of her like a tidal wave, rapid and violent, obliterating the various injuries Catra had inflicted. She was angry alright. Once they had figured out that Adora’s emotional state influenced her magic, they started noticing the effects more and more. Catra hoped that no one picked up on the stark contrast when Adora turned to her and bathed her in shining, warm light. 

By the time Adora had finished healing Catra, Tung Lashor was on his feet again. The leader eyed the two rebellion fighters, uncharacteristically silent. Catra stared back at him. Having coerced him into working with them may prove to be a long term problem, but he could be managed. The Crimson Wastes were far from a democracy, but public opinion mattered tremendously. The arena was buzzing with conversations, as everyone discussed what was happening in the ring. It was impossible to tell which way the crowd was leaning.

Her slightly raspy voice becoming hoarse with all the shouting she was doing, Catra addressed the crowd once more. “Details can wait for tomorrow. Tonight, we should celebrate our new alliance!”

The crowd roared in approval, it didn’t take much to start a party in the Crimson Wastes. Catra looked up at Adora, still transformed, and smiled. Adora caught the glance and smiled back while laying a hand on Catra’s shoulder. “Okay, I have to admit that was kinda impressive.”

“What, did you think I couldn’t pull it off?” Catra snickered.

“No, you just managed to check off the next three objectives for the Crimson Wastes from Glimmer’s master plan, all by kicking some snake’s ass.” Adora laughed as she released her transformation. “I don’t know if she’s going to be pissed off or happy.”

“This is Sparkles we’re talking about. I feel like it’s my duty to piss her off. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Catra hadn’t meant for the party she started to last for the entire week, but she wasn’t unhappy with the results. The seven of them stuck with Huntara’s gang for the most part. Perfuma had a strange friendship with the purple-skinned woman that Catra didn’t quite understand, but was thankful that the gang leader didn’t hold a grudge against her. Adora was a bit overwhelmed by the rowdiness of a ‘Wastes party, so Catra stuck by her side almost constantly. This had the added benefit of being close to Adora, but she wouldn’t admit that.

The meetings to hash out the details of accepting an alliance with the princesses went slowly. The initial antagonism had disappeared and was replaced by the various leaders kissing up to Catra and her crew, trying to secure the best resources for themselves. Catra had preferred the open hostility to the shamefaced bootlicking. Once she and Adora had set up a merit based distribution metric and ran it past the rest of the members of the Princess Alliance, the focus of the meetings turned to releasing the magic in the ‘Wastes. 

Unfortunately, there were no records or archaeological research in the Crimson Wastes, so there was no way of knowing what might wake up. Adora suggested that everyone in the Valley of the Lost pack a grab bag, filled with essentials, in case they had to leave in a hurry. Hatches were nailed down, and guards were posted. Adora chose a spot just outside of the city, above the ravine, to perform the unlocking. A large crowd gathered, even larger than the one for Catra and Tung Lashor’s duel. News had spread that the Valley was safe again and inhabitants were returning. 

Catra and the others watched as Adora strode out into the sands, already transformed into She-Ra. There was no speech or ceremony, Adora just held out the Sword of Protection and started glowing. Every color of light poured out of her, like a many-faceted diamond held up to the sun. The brightness grew until it was hard to look at and Adora took her sword in both hands and plunged it, tip first, into the ground. 

The rush of magic extended out in a wave from the sword. Unlike the last time she had done this, the ground was not covered in a carpet of grass, moss, and flowers. Instead, the magic coiled into bunches, forming trunks of new cacti. Farther away, even larger trunks of wood formed, almost as wide as the ravine behind them. These trees up to a bulge, from which branches split off of and arched over themselves. From the closest of these massive trees, a flock of bright red birds with long, angular wings burst forth. Chunks of rock started floating into the sky, most larger than a Horde skiff. 

Adora turned towards her friends, panting slightly. “That went better than expected.”

Everyone else was still staring off into the distance. A few miles away, a city-size patch of ground was rising up. Sand pouring off of it in cascades, revealing a giant, six-legged creature. Its long neck was topped with a horned head and a mouth that could swallow dozens of people with a single bite. Greyish-purple plates protected its back and black skin covered its extremities. It threw back its head and opened its mouth. It took several seconds for the sound to reach them, it reminded Catra of a long rumble of thunder, but with a distinct rhythm to it, almost music. 

“You just had to go and jinx it, didn’t you?” Kyle’s voice was shrill.

Chapter Text

The creature took several slow steps to bring it over to one of the large trees. It reached its neck up and stuck its head between the branches to get to the center of the bulge. Even from the far distance, they could see water splash out as the creature drank deeply. Catra reasoned there must be some sort of pond inside the canopy. Once it finished drinking, the creature took several steps away from the tree, looked up at the sun, before angling its body and lowering its belly to the ground. 

“I mean, we don’t know if that thing’s bad. Maybe it’s friendly!” Adora’s voice cracked as she tried to reassure her companions. 

Catra snorted. “We should check it out to make sure. Melog can take the two of us.”

At the mention of their name, Melog grew slightly, large enough for both Catra and Adora to ride them. Catra mounted him with a nimple leap and held out her hand to help Adora up. The other girl was back to regular size, no need to make Melog carry more than they had to. “Alright. Let’s do this. Perfuma, Huntara, keep everything locked down here.”

Adora took Catra’s hand and pulled herself up behind the other girl, wrapping her arms around as Catra latched her fingers in Melogs mane. The space cat took off with a bound, covering the distance much faster then they could have on foot. The changes to the Crimson Wastes were nowhere near as dramatic as the changes to the Fright Zone had been. The ground was still covered in rust-colored sand and the majority of plants were the same dry cacti. 

The exceptions were the massive flora and fauna that they were going to investigate. The closer they got, the more Catra appreciated the scale of the strange trees and the creature they were approaching. The trees were taller than any tower in the Fright Zone, and Catra’s claws itched to climb them. Their rough bark looked like it would have plenty of handholds and even some knots and alcoves large enough to take breaks on when scaling them. And if the splash they had seen was any indication, there could be fresh water in the bulging disk near the top. Water was a scarce commodity in the ‘Wastes, so a reliable source would be invaluable to the people that lived there. 

“This is nice. The two of us should go on more missions alone together.” Adora muttered into Catra’s back. Beneath them, Melog made a deep rumbling sound. Catra was glad both that Adora couldn’t see her blush at what Melog thought of the two of them alone together, and that Adora apparently misunderstood the cat’s sound as discontentment. “I didn’t forget about you Melog. You just don’t have the same expectations of us that our other friends have.”

“You only say that because you don’t know what they’re saying.” Catra chuckled. “You’re right though, this is nice.”

There was a pause as they both enjoyed being close together before Adora broke the silence again. “So what was up with you the other night? When you found Lonnie and the others? Everything seemed fine, and then you bit me and ran off without saying anything.” 

 Catra stiffened. Between finding their old squad, finishing their trip, and completing their mission, the two of them hadn’t had time to discuss why Adora had been chasing her through the ‘Wastes in the middle of the night. Catra wasn’t proud of how she had behaved, but she wasn’t sure if she could explain why she had lashed out. She felt Adora raise her head from where it had been resting on her back. 

This is where it all falls apart. You break every good thing in your life. You already broke your connection to Adora, and now the cracks are showing. Did you think that you could mend what you were tearing apart for years? You are only good for two things: breaking and being broken.

“Adora…”

“I’m not mad or anything. I just… Want to understand.”

“I…” Catra tried to start again. Adora’s arms around her tightened slightly and Melog cocked his head toward her. Both of them were loyal to her to a fault. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Deserve what?”

Catra justured at herself, Melog, and Adora's arms around her. The movement was useless as Adora could barely see it. " This . You, Melog, being forgiven, any of it. I should be in Brightmoon's darkest dungeon and left there to rot, not sent out on important diplomatic missions." 

Adora was quick to respond. "First of all, Brightmoon doesn't have a dark dungeon. Second, none of that is true. Third, what does that have to do with you running off?"

"Eventually you'll understand how unfixable I am and leave again. I figured I might as well get it over with."

“Catra-”

“No. Listen. I’m not like you Adora. I’m not like the princesses. I’m this twisted… This twisted thing, full of hate. You know, I was almost happy here, in the ‘Wastes. I was free from the Horde. I had a whole gang willing to follow me. And I had someone willing to be my friend. And what did I do? I threw it all in her face and made some of the worst decisions in my life because I was just so angry.”

Melog had stopped at some point, Catra wasn’t sure when. They looked back over their shoulder at her. Adora slipped her leg over Melog’s back and dropped to the ground. She walked around Catra and looked up at her along with Melog. Catra kept staring at her hands clenched in Melog’s mane.

“Catra, look at me.” Adora’s voice was stern, but Catra ignored her. The blonde placed a hand on her jaw and gently turned her head to meet her eyes. “Yeah, you made some mistakes.” 

Catra made a slight noise of protest in her throat. What she had done couldn’t be summed up as ‘some mistakes,’ but Adora continued. “And you can’t change that. There’s no way you could go back in time and tell yourself to not be so self-destructive, but what you can do is undo what you’ve done. You’ve already started that. Fuck, Catra, you’ve already saved the universe. You saved me. I would be dead and Prime would have gotten the Heart and not a single person in the whole galaxy would be safe if it wasn’t for you.”

Adora was crying, soft tears flowing from her eyes. 

“You say that you’re not fixable, but you’re already getting better. And I didn’t do that. You made that choice yourself. You saw the pinnacle of power and turned away from it because of love. When you rescued Glimmer to save me, you made that choice” Adora’s voice cracked, and then she chuckled. “And then you act surprised when I showed up and did the same. Seriously, why do people think that I’m the idiot in this relationship?”

Catra was crying along with Adora now. Her emotionless facade fractured by Adora’s words. “That’s because you are the idiot.”

Adora pulled them closer together and rested her forehead against Catra’s. Catra wrapped her arms tightly around Adora, but the position was awkward with one of them standing and the other still mounted on Melog. The quick movement was enough for Catra to lose her balance and fall off. Thankfully, Adora caught her before they both crashed into the ground. The close contact was reassuring. For so much of their lives, showing affection like this had been forbidden. They had to learn other methods, playful punches to shoulders or light touches of Catra’s tail, but those were inferior to having Adora’s strong arms hold her tight and returning the embrace. Catra buried her face into the base of Adora’s neck. They stayed like that for a few minutes, letting the emotions crash over them.

You’re such a weak child. You have been reduced to a baby seeking comfort in another’s arms. When you were a Force Captain, even as pathetic as you were then, you would have never stooped-

“You’re right though.” Catra said, slightly muffled by Adora’s collar bone.

“What was that?” Adora asked, pretending she hadn’t heard to try and get Catra to repeat herself.

“You heard me the first time.” Adora received a poke to her ribs for the teasing. “I did make a choice. And…” Catra paused, trying to sort out the conflicting thoughts inside her head. Mistakes made in the past. Choices she could make in the future. “I think I’ve just made another one.”

Melog couldn’t pick out her plan, but they understood the emotions behind it and mewed approvingly and gave her a lick. Adora was left completely in the dark though. “And what did you just decide?”

“I’ve decided,” Catra paused to give Adora a brief kiss before pulling away. “That after we finish this mission, we need to stop in the Fright Zone. I need to take care of some unfinished business there before we head to Brightmoon.”

“What unfinished business?” Adora’s eyebrows were pushed together as she tried to puzzle out what Catra was referring too. It was an endearing expression to Catra. 

“You’ll see when we get there.” Catra had already mounted Melog and was holding out her hand for her girlfriend. “Now come on, we’ve got a giant creature to investigate.” 

She still looked confused, but Adora was never one to let a call to duty go unanswered and she took the offered assistance, dropping into place behind Catra. Turning back to their destination, Catra realized that they were closer than she thought. Their proximity didn’t make the creature appear any smaller either. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to fight it. Catra couldn’t order a battalion of tanks to the Crimson Wastes anymore, and she didn’t think anything less would be enough to take down a creature that large. 

Melog took them to within a stone throw away from the creature and the three of them hid behind a outcropping of rocks. A whooshing sound, like short gusts of wind, filled the valley where the creature had chosen to lay down. Thankfully, it was still sleeping. Eyelids as thick as Catra’s wrist twitched slightly as the behemoth snored loud enough to match a Horde frigate’s main engine. Going for the eyes was a favorite tactic of hers when her target was significantly larger than her, it was often a quick path to vitals and if it did result in a kill, at least it would be blind. But when the eyes were as wide as she was tall, her claws would likely only make it mad. 

Making this creature mad was the last thing they wanted to do. Dozens of horns spiraled out from its head and its feet were thick enough to crush houses in a single step. It was hard to grasp how huge it was, standing so close to it. Catra glanced at Adora to see what the other woman thought. Adora could be a clutz, but she had a knack for battle plans. She had a hand held up to her chin, contemplating the situation.

“I think I’m going to go pet it.” Adora said, as if it was the most logical plan in the world. Catra’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets in surprise. 

“What? ” Catra whispered, she didn’t want to wake the creature up, but there was urgency in her voice. 

“It’s okay. Razz told me about this. It’s a She-Ra thing, just cover for me.” 

“I don’t care if you’re She-Ra, you can’t go up to a creature the size of a city and pet it.”

“Trust me. It will be fiiiiine.” Adora waved a hand dismissively and stepped out into the open. 

“Adora! ” Catra whispered after her. “You’re not even transformed!”

“Watch this. Hey you! Big guy!” Adora yelled at the sleeping mountain she was walking toward.

“There she goes, the love of my life, the stupidest person on Etheria.” Catra complained to Melog. “Okay, here’s the plan. If it looks like that thing is about to crush or eat or skewer Adora, I need you to throw up an illusion. Big and scary enough to distract that thing and then I’ll run and grab that idiot and drag her back to safety.”

Catra swallowed hard when the creature opened its eyes. They were segmented, like an insect's, with each hexagonal segment appearing to move independently. When the eyelids first lifted, they all moved in a ripple, a wave of metallic blue mirrors, but then each segment chose a different direction to point at. An uncomfortable number of segments focused on the unarmed woman walking towards the creature. 

The massive head lifted off the ground, just enough that it could turn to face Adora. Catra dug her claws into the ground, ready to spring into action, but there was no aggression in the movement. Adora hesitated slightly, and Catra knew that she was starting to have doubts about her plan. She continued anyway, arms at her side and head held high, until she stood directly in front of it. Her ponytail billowed out with every breath the creature took. She lifted her hand up to stroke it on the snout and the creature moved into the touch. For any other animal, the movement would have been subtle, just a finger’s width of distance, but for something so large, it almost provoked Catra to implement her plan. 

Adora stood there for a moment, hand resting on leathery skin, still with concentration. Then she cocked her head to the side and laughed. “Catra, Melog, you should come meet them.”

Catra and Melog exchanged glances. Neither of them had been expecting an outcome like this, but it was better than a rampaging monster. Catra stepped tentatively away from her hiding spot, still apprehensive of whatever the creature was. Adora called out excited still, “So this is Ohme. They’re really old, but they promise to try to not step on us ‘small ones.’”

“I want to be mad, but that’s an accurate way to describe us from their perspective.” Catra replied. Melog was stalking around Ohme’s head, observing it from every direction. Ohme was disorientating, everything from their massive size to the bizarre eyes to the way their breath smelled of cinnamon and campfires. Standing in front of them made Catra feel… Something. She wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion, but she felt the need to keep her voice lowered even though she wasn’t hiding anymore. “Not to pry too much, but what does it eat? And, like, what is it?”

Adora looked back at Ohme, hand still resting on them. “They eat… the Sun? That doesn’t make sense. And it is a… Ohme? I’m not sure it has the same concept of labels as we do.” 

Catra eyed the purple plates that covered Ohme’s back. “Photovoltaics. Or maybe photosynthesis? Entrapta would know better.”

“What?” Adora was confused. Again. 

“Like lunar panels? We didn’t use them in the Horde, but lots of places in the Rebellion used them for power. Didn’t you know that?” Catra rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll take your word for it.” Adora dropped her hand back to her side. “We should go. I get the feeling that Ohme is very patient, but we’re disturbing the first good nap they’ve had in over a thousand years.”

Melog mewed in agreement. Disturbing naps was rude. They walked up to Catra and grew to the size needed to carry them. Catra clambered onto their back and waited for Adora, but the blonde warrior was still staring at the behemoth with a confused smile on her face. 

“They say that they knew She-Ra before me.”

“Mara?” Catra asked. She didn’t know much about the last She-Ra before Adora that lived a thousand years ago. 

“No, before her even. I think they’ve met several She-Ras.” Adora chuckled while withdrawing her hand finally. “They want me to come back and visit. Sometime in the next century.”

“I donno. Have you seen Glimmer’s master plan? I think you’re booked for the next three.” Adora laughed, and Catra smiled, happy that her joke got a response. “And I’m calling dibs on your free time.”

You are always holding Adora back. Distracting her from her duties. You should crawl into a hole and let her fulfill her destiny.

Adora’s smile pushed away Catra’s dark thoughts as later helped the former onto Melog. The trip back was much more relaxed. The perceived threat was gone, and the two women were more relaxed with each other. When they got back, Adora was swarmed with people wanting to know how soon the creature would be wrecking their town. She wasn’t the best public speaker, and Catra could have helped, but she needed the practice. And Catra had another objective. 

She found the rest of their old Horde squad separate from the bulk of the crowd. Kyle started asking questions as soon as he saw her. “What is that thing? Is it as big as it looks from here? Are we all going to die?”

Catra stopped herself from her knee-jerk reaction to mock him. “Nah, we’re good. Adora talked to it and it promised to not step on us. Called itself Ohme. As for what they are, we’re not sure. Have to get Entrapta or someone on that at some point.”

There was a rock near her left foot that caught her eye. There wasn’t anything special about the rock that made it stand out to her, only that it wasn’t the eyes of her once friends. It was a slightly darker shade of red than the surrounding sand and rock. It had an oblong shape, with a rounded nub on one side. Catra stared at it, examining every detail. 

“Entrapta?” Lonnie scoffed a bit. “You know, I’m surprised you’re on talking terms with her. You treated us like shit, but at least you didn’t send us to Beast Island.”

Cratra winced. It was true, being sent to Beast Island was intended as a tortuous death sentence reserved for the Horde’s worst enemies and traitors. And after that, Entrapta had returned the act with kindness and forgiveness, saving Catra from the insanity of having Horde Prime fade in and out of her head like a tracker pad with a bad signal. That had been a turning point for Catra. One of many in such a short time. Right now might be another. She left off staring at the rock to lock eyes with Lonnie. 

“Entrapta was actually one of the first to forgive me. I-” Catra paused. How did Bow make being so open and vulnerable look so easy? “I owe her a lot actually. And not just making up for the crap I’ve done. And she’s not the only one. That I owe, that’s-”

The words were coming out of her mouth too fast and started to pile over themselves as the pitch of her voice rose. She stopped again and took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. Her former teammates, former friends, looked at her, waiting to see where she was going with this. Their expressions were guarded, tight lipped and brows furrowed, and their postures defensive, half turned away and their arms slightly tensed. They were still used to Catra exploding when anyone saw her like this.

Falling apart. Weak. Pathetic. Worthless.

Catra shoved the thought away, straightened her back, and continued. “Look, I’m trying to-” She didn’t like using the word ‘Fix,’ It had too many connotations and memories for her. “Make things right. I have a lot of blood on my hands, and a lot of people I owe for helping me when I, in no way deserved it… There’s so much there that I could spend a lifetime trying to undo all the wrongs I’ve done and not come close to crossing everything off the list. Unless I’m clever about it.

Catra met all three of their stares, one by one. “I am going to make it up to all of you, but first-”

They’re going to see how helpless you are. They are going to devour you like a piece of veal. There will be nothing left of you. Not that there was anything of substance. Always dragging down those around you because you are just a void or destruction and sadness. 

Catra took another steading breath and, in direct defiance of the thoughts echoing in her head, finished, “But first I have to ask a favor from all of you.”

Chapter Text

Scorpia studied the smooth surface of the Black Garnet. Before the conclusion of the war, she had spent many hours in the same room as the runestone, and frequently had looked at it, but always at a distance. Whether that had been because she was cautious about whichever experiment Entrapta had running at the time or apprehensive about the stone itself was hard to tell. Likely both. She ran a claw over a spot where the machinery of the Fight Zone had connected. The patch had been rough when the attachment point was removed, but it had started to smooth out, mending itself, as so much of Etheria had started to do since She-Ra unlocked the Heart.

The Black Garnet was on a makeshift platform with wheels. Scorpia herself had made it, hammering nails into boards taken from used shipping crates. And while it was clearly not the work of a carpenter, Scorpia could brag that she had done it herself. Never mind all the bent over nails, or the board that had snapped instantly when she had sat the runestone on it.

Once she had finished the platform, she had pulled the whole thing into the old throne room of her ancestors. It was a wreck, but so was much of the Fright Zone. And it felt appropriate that she govern from a building that wasn’t built by the Horde. 

Oh man. Her. Governing. She could still hardly believe it. The princesses had all agreed that since the Horde was no longer a thing, that the land they took should belong to who it was taken from. Which for the Fright Zone meant the Scorpion Kingdom. Which meant that Princess was no longer an empty title. 

She had instantly promised to make sure that none of them regretted putting her in charge and set about restarting her kingdom. There were a lot of problems at first. Many of the residents of the Fright Zone were Horde soldiers, some of which didn’t want to stop being Horde soldiers, or listen to Scorpia. Some of the Force Captains had straight up left when Scopria told them she was disbanding the Horde. Two of them had even tried attacking her. They hadn’t realized that Scorpia had reconnected with the Garnet, which shocked them pretty hard when they found out.

Another problem was that a lot of people had left. One of the Force Captains that left had taken most of the remaining sea capable skiffs and much of their crews. Octo-tea or whatever her name was. The most likely to leave were those with specialized skills. The throne room still didn’t have power running to it, as all the remaining electricians that Scorpia had working for her were busy  keeping the power grid from combusting. Well, keeping it from combusting again. This week. 

A third problem was… Well, Scorpia was feeling a bit overwhelmed if she was being honest with herself. Her preferred method of leadership was befriending everyone and showering them with affection, which wasn’t working for her right now. 

She let out a deep sigh as she considered her options. She needed to imitate the leaders she’d seen in action, unfortunately that was not a list populated with people she wanted to copy. 

“What would Hordak do?” Scorpia asked herself out loud. She hunched over and crossed her arms and hissed in a mockery of Hordak’s grating tone. “You’re all pathetic compared to me. I can’t wait for my brother to return and wreck everything. Get out!”

Laughing to herself, Scorpia moved down to the next person on her list. “It is obvious that we should use magic to solve all of our problems, also Adora is the best and Catra is the worst.“

With a scoff, Scorpia walked over to her throne. Well, it was Hordak’s throne, someone had thoughtfully moved it from his throne room to hers without asking her. She slumped against it. She hadn’t been around any of the Princess Alliance leaders long enough to see how they ruled and none of the Horde leaders were good examples, even Catra…

Catra had been pretty effective, but her goals had been skewed. And because of the skew, people got hurt, Scorpia included. Probably best not to follow Wildcat’s example too closely either. Speaking of Wildcat, that was another thing that was bothering Scorpia. The last two times they had seen each other had been so different that they were hard to reconcile, in all meanings of the word. 

In what felt like such a short time, so much had changed. First of all, she had been fighting beside Adora, rather than fighting Adora. Which, seriously, Scorpia saw that coming years ago. They had that connection. Scorpia might have been jealous at one point, but she had moved on to flower-y fields. Catra had also gotten a whole makeover (a concept introduced to Scorpia by Mermista), a haircut and new clothes that didn’t even have rips in them!

But the biggest change was how Catra acted. The rage that driven her for so long was missing. She didn’t put up a fight when Scorpia had given her the tightest hug ever, even when Frosta and Perfuma had joined in. And while the magicat was hard to read, Scorpia was sure that she had caught a glint of fear in her eyes, one that wouldn’t go away. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure that someone had hurt Catra, and she was going to give them the beating of their lives when she figured out who did it. She just hoped that it wasn’t Adora, that girl could pack a punch.

The rumors that were flying around didn’t help. Most of them were ridiculous beyond belief, one said that Catra and Adora had been working together from the beginning and the whole war on Etheria was a trap for Horde Prime, another that Catra had turned into She-Ra herself to heal Adora. Of course none of them were as strange as the reality that Entrapta had dragged Hordak back to her castle in Dryl because she had a crush on him. 

The mad scientist princess was one of the few that was close enough that the crippled communications network could still patch calls through, so Scorpia had called Entrapta a few times. Each time she had called, Entrapta had been busy with working on some project or another and hadn’t talked much, unless it was about the project itself. Talking to her friend helped Scorpia stay optimistic, but as the days hushed by, the same time as feeling like they took forever, she was feeling more and more alone.

Scorpia sat down on the throne, leaning her head back to rest it against the cool metal. She had dreamed of a time when the war was over, not necessarily the Horde crushing the rebellion or the other way around, just the war being over. No longer having to fight people, just making friends and giving hugs. But now the war was officially over and Scorpia was having to face the cruel reality that it was never going to be that simple. She leaned forward, bracing her elbows against her knees and clicking her claws together. She should get up and make herself some tea, she decided. Right before she could get up, she heard a commotion at the doors to the chamber. 

Two voices arguing. Scorpia was pretty sure that one of them was one of her guards, Gregory, trying to keep someone out. She had left instructions that she shouldn’t be disturbed unless there was an emergency. The voices started getting louder, but Scorpia still couldn’t make out what was being said. She inhaled sharply and the Black Garnet buzzed in response to her irritation. An interruption to the first free hour she had to relax all day was not what she wanted right now. 

With a crash, the doors flew open with some force and several figures strode in. The hallway was much brighter lit than the throne room and Scorpia tried to keep herself from squinting, but failed. She couldn’t make out any details of the backlit figures walking into her throne room like they owned the place. Maybe it was one or more of the Force Captains? The way they swaggered showed how confident they were. 

Scorpia drew herself up to her full height in her throne, she had a few inches on even the tallest of the intruders. She might be able to get through this with intimidation, even if she was outnumbered, ah, six to one. She pulled some power from the Black Garnet and let it dance over her claws. “Who dares disturb the Queen?”

The threat had the intended effect, the group stopped, suddenly hesitant. All except the lead figure who threw their head back and laughed. The sound was both familiar and distinctly different. Scorpia leaned forward. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the new lighting and she could make out some details, the figure in the lead had a tail and two perked up ears. “Catra?” 

“They put you back in charge of the Scorpion Kingdom this month and you’ve already let the power go to your head?” Catra drawled. Scorpia let the jab fly,  too overjoyed to see her friend. She was already moving to wrap the Magicat up in one of her signature embraces when one of the other members of the group moved to intercept her.

“Scorpia! It’s so good to see you again!” Perfuma’s gentle voice announced her presence and Scporpia was more than willing to wrap her arms around the willowy princess instead. She would have plenty of time to give her Wildcat hugs later. 

“Perfuma? Why?” Scorpia was at a loss for words. 

"What are the rest of us? Brown ration bars?" Another sarcastic voice asked.

“Lonnie? Rogelio! Kyle! Adora.” Scorpia rattled off, her eyes finally adjusting to the new light level. “What are you guys doing here?”

“I found these idiots,” Catra gestured at her former squad, “And dragged them back here to help you.” 

“Dragged us?” Lonnie scoffed. “More like got down on your hands and knees and begged us.”

Scorpia stiffened and she noticed Adora did too. Taking jabs at Catra’s pride was a fast way to start a fight, and Lonnie’s comment was less of a jab and more of a haymaker. Scorpia held her breath, waiting for the claws to come out. Catra’s hands flexed slightly, and the fur on her neck fluffed up slightly, but she didn’t attack. Instead she smoothed down her fur with one hand and smirked at the other woman. 

“If we agree not to talk about that, then I won’t make fun of you for needing me to save your sorry asses from a handful of clones.” Catra said, her smirk turning into a toothy smile. “Seriously, Princess Glimmer took down more clones than that by herself, without her magic.”

“We had that handled.” Lonnie denied.

“Okay, the next time we find you cornered, injured, poorly armed, and outnumbered we’ll just let you guys handle it.” 

“I mean, we were definitely grateful you stepped up, so maybe please don’t not save us next time.” Kyle awkwardly interjected. The whole group burst out laughing, breaking the tension in the room. 

Smiles stayed after the laughter had died down and Scorpia glanced around at the group of people she called friends. She considered herself so lucky that she made it through the war with so many friends. Yeah, there had been some close calls. It sounded like Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio had just nearly evaded death at the hands of the clones, everyone almost died when Prime got his hands on the Heart, and there were countless other times during the war that their lives had been in danger. Catra especially, facing off against the Rebellion’s best fighter day-after-day was not without its risks, even if that fighter was pulling her punches. When she disappeared for months after Prime invaded, Scorpia had feared her dead. It hadn’t been until she was chipped and she received a hivemind-wide order to capture or kill the magicat on sight did she learn otherwise. 

Scorpia started to move forward toward Catra again, but was again stopped by Perfuma. The princess had wrapped her arms around one of Scorpia’s in a tight hug. She looked up at Scorpia as she spoke. “We’ll have to catch you up on everything that happened in the Crimson Wastes later. How is it going here in the Fright Zone?”

“Oh, well...” Conflicting emotions fought to be expressed. She didn’t want to disappoint the Alliance, especially Perfuma, but she was struggling. “It's actually awful. There’s been two coup attempts, Reactor 5 is a ticking time bomb, and I miss all my friends!”

“There, there.” Perfuma’s words were soothing, as was her hand on Scorpia’s arm. Catra’s response was not soothing. 

“Yeah, that’s why we’re here. No offense Scorpia, but you aren’t really cut out for this.” Catra’s arms were crossed and she looked slightly annoyed. 

“Catra!” Perfuma chastised the magicat. “That kind of negative energy is not what we need right now.”

“What? I’m just stating facts. She hasn’t even noticed the third coup attempt.” 

Third coup attempt? Scorpia was confused. Was that why they were here? To replace her? Was Wildcat going to be her replacement or was she acting on her own to take over the Fright Zone? Catra had always wanted to be the one calling the shots. 

“Um…” Scorpia cleared her throat. “Third coup attempt?”

“You know that guard outside?” It was Lonnie that answered. “He’s not working for you.”

“Gregory?”

“What?”

“Really?”

Scorpia, Adora, and Perfuma all exclaimed at the same time. This in turn made Catra, Lonnie, and Rogelio laugh again. 

“I can’t believe I used to be afraid of princesses as a kid.” Lonnie was still chuckling. “You’re all oblivious.”

“Gregory back there insinuated that he was expecting a hit squad to take you out, but he wasn’t sure if we were it.” Catra explained. “When we told him that no one should be expecting us, he got very defensive and said that you had a very important meeting coming up and that we needed to leave. We just pushed past him at that point.”

“Oooo, that little traitor. When I get my claws on him. Wait, did you guys let him leave even though you thought he was plotting to help kill me?” Scorpia was still playing catch-up a bit. 

“Oh no.” Catra’s smile was devious. A familiar sight to Scorpia, she suddenly felt sorry for Gregory. “Melog is taking care of him right now.”

“Oh Moons. If by ‘taking care of’, you mean what they did to us on Krytis, then he’s going to need therapy after that.” Adora stated.

“I told them to go easy on him. After all, this could just be a misunderstanding.” Catra’s grin turned to a much harder expression, teeth bared, ears back and tail lashing. “But if I’m right, then he deserves every horror that Melog can conjure. Anyway , that’s why we’re here Scorpia, you need help.”

“Help with what?” Scorpia asked.

Catra gave her a look. Scorpia had a mental catalog of Catra’s looks, and she had this one labeled as ‘You should already know the answer to that question.’ Normally it was mixed with the looks ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ or ‘I am five seconds away from shredding the nearest wall.’ Neither of those were present though, so Scorpia waited for her to continue instead of apologizing for upsetting her. 

“Basically everything. You have to learn how to delegate Scorpia, I learned that the hard way. Trust me when I say that if you try to do everything yourself, you will end up crazy.” She let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. “And don’t give people work they’re not good at. Everyone in Horde leadership did that. We’re not robots or clones, we each have our own unique strengths. Lonnie, for example, is an opportunist, which makes her good at both backstabbing and catching backstabbers. Rogelio is really good at making stuff and fixing things. Basically the only classes he ever paid attention in were shit like ‘Preventative Maintenance 101.’ And Kyle is the best out of all of us with complicated rules and regulations. If you have a stack of papers that you need explained, just give them to him. Just make sure it’s not too heavy.”

Catra’s squadmates made noises of protest as the magicat laid out their skills in the most backhanded way she could manage. They were interrupted by a series of sounds from the hallway behind them. The hiss of leaking gas was followed by several muffled thuds. The whole group turned to look, most of them placing a hand on their weapons or taking a defensive stance. They all relaxed when Melog pranced in.

The space cat had a bounce in their step and Scorpia would have sworn that there was a smile on their face. They made their way to Catra and nuzzled up into the girl’s offered hand. The magicat laughed, before returning her attention to the others. “Melog says that the hit squad is here. They brought a canister of knockout gas and gas masks, but they weren’t expecting an invisible cat to open the canister early. No one hurts Scorpia on my watch.” 

“Wildcat…” Scorpia moved to hug her friend for the third time that evening, this time finding her path blocked by Melog. A slight tinge of red lined their mane as the cat stared at her. 

Okay. Okay. Scorpia was starting to get frustrated. In the past few months Scorpia had insulted Catra, betrayed her to join the Princess Alliance, blasted her halfway across the Fright Zone (granted, she had been under Prime’s mind-control at the time), and only hugged her once! And now, Catra was here, things were slightly calmer than they had been right after Prime’s defeat, and she kept getting hug-blocked by Catra’s, admittedly, very cute, companions. 

Where did this protective nature come from, Catra? Rogelio asked. At least that’s what Scorpia thought he said, she still had a hard time understanding lizardfolk. First in the canyon, now with Scorpia, what changed?

“Well I realized I could be friends with people whose names weren’t Adora.” Catra joked, in her typical dry fashion. “Turns out being around a bunch of princesses turns you soft.” 

Scorpia both empathised and disagreed with that sentiment. Perfuma and the others had taught her a lot about friendship, but that didn’t make someone soft. She started to voice her opinion when she felt a tug on her arm. She looked down to see Perfuma looking up at her. The princess gave another tug and after a few seconds Scorpia realized that she wanted her to lean down. She did and Perfuma whispered in her ear. “Be patient with her. She cares, but she needs space.”

Scorpia didn’t know what to do with that cryptic comment, and stared at Perfuma with the most puzzled expression in the hope that the princess would elaborate. Instead Perfuma smiled and turned back to the group. Scorpia was patient with Catra, wasn’t she? All the times that Catra had lashed out at her and she had stayed friends. Or was Perfuma not talking about Catra? She did say ‘needs space,’ and Catra used to always get on her about personal space whenever Scorpia would scoop her up in one of her patented embraces. That might be it. If Perfuma was asking her to wait to hug Catra, she could do that. Maybe.

“...And then I yelled ‘I didn’t know being a princess was contagious!’” Adora was finishing a story when Scorpia’s attention returned to the others. 

“You should have seen Catra’s face when I told her I was a princess. It was priceless.” Scorpia joined in. The conversation continued for a while, catching Scorpia up on where the former Horde soldiers had been up to since she ran into them last. At one point Scopria excused herself to order some members of her old squad that she trusted to round up the unconscious traitors, but she returned to the circle of her friends afterwards. 

After a several minutes, Scorpia noticed that Melog had stopped circling Catra and instead was nudging the back of the magicat’s leg. Her ears were slightly down and she had one arm crossed over her body to hold onto her other arm, clearly distressed. Scorpia almost launched herself through the circle of their friends to squeeze the girl. Instead she forced her gaze away and repeated Perfuma’s earlier message in her head like a mantra. Perfuma said to wait. Perfuma said to give her space. Perfuma said to-

“Scorpia.” She whipped her head back to face Catra again. She knew that her eyes probably betrayed a bit of what she was feeling, Catra had always been good at reading people, but she wasn’t looking either. “I meant to say this after the Heart, but I didn’t get the chance.”

Because I didn’t give her a chance to say anything before I hugged her. Scorpia realized. 

“You were right. I’m a bad friend.” Blue and yellow eyes still stuck to the floor, Catra swallowed. Melog had been purring in encouragement as the magicat gently stroked their mane, but stopped at the self-deprecating comment. Perfuma made a disgruntled sound in the back of her throat. Catra scowled at their disapproval. “It’s true, I’m a pretty shit friend. But… I don’t want to be.”

Scorpia could feel tears welling up in her eyes and she held her claws up to her face to try and keep her emotions in. She wanted to shout. To wrap her friend up in the fluffiest comforter in Brightmoon (none of those thin, standard issue Horde blankets), and tell her that she was forgiven and the best person in the world. But Perfuma had said to wait, and Scorpia was starting to understand why. Catra needed to get all of this off of her chest.

“I-” Catra finally glanced up at Scorpia and saw that she was on the verge of tears. “Ahrg, fuck this!”

With her characteristic speed, Catra sprung across the group of princesses and former Horde soldiers and impacted Scorpia’s midriff with enough force to make the larger women take a step back. She was concerned for a moment that the magicat had hurt herself with such a violent tackle before she processed what was happening. Catra had her arms wrapped around her torso and her head pressed against her chest.

Catra was hugging her.

It took another moment for her to process this revelation and decide how to proceed. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of a spontaneous hug. The second of hesitation was enough for Catra to notice and start to pull back. Scorpia quickly repositioned her arms around the magicat’s shoulders before she could retreat. 

“I’m sorry.” Catra’s voice was slightly muffled from their embrace. “You were always so nice to me, and I wasn’t grateful for it. I was too angry and bitter and I pushed you away and treated you like trash, and you didn’t deserve that at all. You were loyal to your friends, even when I didn’t consider you one. When you stood up to me and went to save Entrapta, that was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen anyone do. You are the best friend anyone could ask for and I wish I had seen that sooner.”

Scorpia was stunned. She almost expected Catra to twist in her arms and she would suddenly be holding Double Trouble while they laughed at her expense, but that didn’t happen. Instead, she held onto the magicat, now quiet except for the occasional sniffle. Scorpia looked at the others, as if gauging their reactions would help her process her own emotions. 

Adora looked a little sad, but mostly proud as she stood, stroking Melog’s mane as the alien rumbled with an echoing purr. Perfuma was ecstatic, barely able to contain her excitement and almost silently dancing. Lonnie looked more like Scopria currently felt, slack jawed and staring at some point past the walls. Rogelio had his arm around Kyle’s shoulder, both looked slightly uncomfortable. 

Scorpia felt more than a little uncomfortable herself. This was a very personal moment to be having in front of an audience, even if the audience was composed of people that were close to you. But the people here had all been close to Catra in the ‘keep your enemies closer’ type of way, with the exception of Melog. And, oddly, Perfuma. A princess of the rebellion that Catra had been raised to hate, was, perhaps the one that had been hurt the least by her. And as much as Scorpia didn’t like having an audience, she knew that Catra hated it twice as much.

It honestly hurt to have to think about how she had given her heart to Catra, only to be hissed at and put down. As much as Scorpia would like to, there was no denying there was bad blood between them. She had tried to brush it under the carpet after Prime’s defeat. And before that when they were both still Force Captains. But perhaps that had been a mistake? 

She had offered that to Catra; sweep it all under the rug and forget about it. She had refused and instead had chosen to give this heartfelt apology that was hard and painful to give, even going as far as to humiliate herself by doing it where people she used to consider bitter rivals could witness it, just because it was too important to wait for a private moment.

This wasn’t just just an apology. 

This was remorse.

This was a promise that she had changed and would continue to change. 

To be better.

“Catra,” Scorpia tightened her grip and lifted her friend up into the air. Catra let out a slight squeak at the action. “You know I’m not super good with words and stuff, but I don’t want you to think for a second that there was ever a chance that I wouldn’t forgive you. I believe you and I am so, so glad that we have another chance to be friends again. Perfuma has been teaching me about how to be a better friend-”

“I bet she has,” Lonnie muttered under her breath.

“-and I wasn’t doing everything right either. Also, you’re being a bit hard on yourself. You were one of the first people that saw me for who I was, not just how useful or weird I was.”

“Really?” Catra’s face wasn’t visible, but her tone conveyed her genuine surprise. 

“Yes, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are a lot of nasty people in the Horde. Grizlore straight up cut me when I tried to give him a hug at Force Captain Orientation. So when we first met, I was glad that I found someone who at least tolerated me.” Scorpia took half a breath. She wasn’t explaining herself very well. It was frustrating not being able to put her feelings into words. “Of course we’ve both come a long way since then. I think it’s great that we’re both becoming better friends, like better friends in general, and now, hopefully, better friends with each other. And- I guess I should ask you if you still want to be my friend, because I guess I still have a lot to-”

Catra interrupted Scorpia’s ramblings with a poke to her ribs. 

“Of course I still want to be your friend. That never changed.” The magicat squirmed a little. “Now put me down before your girlfriend gets jealous.” 

The action that Scorpia did wouldn’t be described as ‘putting down,’ more ‘dropping and blushing as bright as her exo-skeloton.’ Catra took a step back and finally met Scorpia’s eyes for the first time since the conversation started, instantly noticing the color in her cheeks. 

“I-, um, we, ah…” Scorpia stuttered. 

Catra glanced over at Perfuma and noticed the other woman was blushing as well. The magicat’s ear twitched down ever so slightly; Scorpia wasn’t sure how to ready the expression. Annoyance? Catra brought her hands up to her face and breathed deeply. A pause so deliberate that Scorpia could practically hear her friend counting to ten in her head. When Catra spoke, her voice was level and controlled. “Are you telling me that the two of you are still not together?”

“Well we want to-”

“We haven’t really-”

Perfuma and Scopria both responded with their excuses at the same time, only for Catra to hold up her hands stopping them. 

“Nope. No. Absolutely not. Adora and I already have a monopoly on ruining our relationship by not talking.” Catra stalked over to Perfuma and grabbed her arm, pulling her to where Scorpia was standing in shock. “It was bad enough that Sparkles and Arrow Boy were getting on our turf, I’m not letting you two do this too.”

A slight push sent Perfuma tripping into Scorpia’s arms. Scorpia was vaguely aware of stifled laughter coming from the rest of the squad, but Catra was still laser focused. 

“We are going to do a security sweep, and you two are going to relax in here and figure out your relationship.” At some point Catra had started using her commanding voice, and Scorpia almost responded with ‘Yes Force Captain.’ She was definitely standing at attention. “Come on you lot, let's find something to punch or fix, I don’t care which.”  

Catra led the still snickering squad towards the door, with the same confident strides that she entered with. There was maybe just a bit more bounce in her step though. The apology must have made her relax. Scorpia could relate, the anxiety that had been crushing her chest was replaced with a warm heat that- 

Actually that was Perfuma still held tight where Catra had shoved her. The princess was looking up at her, face still flushed with embarrassment and… Wow. Scorpia may have found her new favorite thing. Whether it was the extra color across Perfuma’s freckled, tan cheeks, or the way her eyes, a brown so dark they were like a moonless-sky, stared through slight lashes with an intensity that Scorpia was more used to seeing in battle then a hug, she wasn’t sure.

“Hey.” Catra said from the door. The rest had already exited and the magicat stood by herself. “Melog is going to stand guard. They’ll make sure that you guys have plenty of time alone to talk about your feelings. Or make out. I recommend both, but do whatever you’re comfortable with. ‘Later.”

And then it was just Scorpia and Perfuma, both staring at the closed door their friend had just disappeared behind. A few seconds later, Perfuma let out a strange giggle that soon became a laugh that had her gasping for air and clutching tighter to Scorpia. The larger woman wasn’t sure what Perfuma was laughing at, but it was contagious enough that she joined in with a few chuckles. Eventually the flower princess managed to speak, although not without stopping to giggle every few breaths. “If someone had told me a year ago, heh, that Force Captain Catra , hahaha, was going to be playing matchmaker for me, I would have asked who their apothecary is, because I wouldn’t have thought a sober person could even dream up such a scenario.” 

Scorpia smiled at that. “I always knew she had a soft side, buried deep inside her, but still there.” 

Perfuma hummed in agreement. “It will take her a while to be completely comfortable with showing it. She’s been through a lot and she will need her friends to work through it all.”

“It’s a good thing you are so great at teaching people how to be better friends. Oh-oh, is that what you’re doing right now? Teaching me to be a better friend?”

“It kind of is, although,” Perfuma paused and looked into Scorpia’s eyes, the blush returning to her face, “If you want, I can teach you about how to be more than friends…”

Scorpia wasn’t as good at math as Entrapta, but she would put the odds of her finding a new favorite thing in the next few minutes at 110%. Yeah, a lot of bad things had happened, but the future looked bright. She definitely would have to thank Wildcat for this.