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Chapter Text

Light Spinner's reputation precedes her. Micah isn't allowed onto the training grounds of Mystacor quite yet, but he sees birds of fire and flashes of electricity climb over the rooftops. He hears whispers of piercing green eyes. His parents tell him, pulling him close one day, that she'd been the first to meet him, pushing through the healer's building to stare at him like a wolf does meat. Micah doesn't understand, then, why they seem scared of that.

From the branch he's sitting, she looks like a normal woman to him. Her fingers diligently work over bushels of herbs, snipping and tugging and dropping them into the cauldron.

"Child," she says, startling him. "Your mother and father will worry if you wander from them too long."

Micah let himself hang backwards off the branch, legs snug to the bark. His shirt falls upwards naturally. "Whatcha making? Poison?"

Her eyes crinkled with something like humor. "Stew."

"Aww, that's boring. How'd you know I was up here, anyway?"

"You have a very unique magical signature, Micah." Light Spinner dipped a spoon into the broth while Micah tried to decipher who told her his name. "You'd have to be blind to the other senses to not know you were coming."

Micah frowned. "So I'm, like, magic stinky?"

"More or less," she hummed. It made Micah's tummy feel warm- he didn't think many people made Light Spinner happy. "Go home, child. You'll be in my class soon enough."

He stuck his tongue out but sat up regardless, inching down the tree. Micah chewed on the question that hounded many of the people in his life. It felt rude. But he didn't think it was any ruder than spying. "How come you keep your mouth covered, Light Spinner?"

Light Spinner set her spoon down with a definite thunk. She turned to him, brows furrowing. "Habit, I suppose."

"Habit?"

"Yes. I could be quite the liar as a child." She lifted a finger to her lips. Micah thought she might be smiling as she divulged the secret. "My smile was always my worst tell."

Chapter Text

Angella's mother is very insistent about her meeting the guards. Faces to know, she says. Voices to hear, she says. (Deceptions to detect, she doesn't add). The lineup is long and full of gruff, buff people, all of whom could probably snap her wrist as soon as look at her.

She stopped at one, blinking owlishly. "Why are you so short?"

Juliet let out a squeak of rage. Immediately, the guard next to the girl grabbed her shoulder. A reminder not to do or say something stupid. "Still growing, she is," he rumbled. "She's to be your personal guard, Majesty- reliable, compatible, and good at listening."

Angella sized her up. "You don't look like you can fly."

"I can't," she grit out.

"Then how are you going to guard me? I'm going to be flying up and around!"

"Dear," her mother warns.

Juliet looked her in the eye. There was fire in her pupils. "Suppose I'll just have to drag you to the ground by your hair, ma'am."

"Oh," said Angella, pleasantly surprised. "I think we're going to get along just fine."

Chapter Text

"We don't usually let children enlist before puberty," Angella hummed, taking a sip of tea from the table beside her. "Especially not without parental permission. Do they know you're here?"

Bow, hands clenched, couldn't find it in him to answer that. Coming to Bright Moon had been hard. He'd expected it to be. He'd even expected for there to be issues joining. He hadn't expected those issues to be given voice via the literal Queen.

"Mom," whined Glimmer, his new best friend and a literal bundle of sparkles, as she wrapped around his arm protectively. "You can't just ask him about his family like that! That's rude!"

Angella bent down on one knee to look him over. Bow wasn't in his scholarly best. His robes were caked in mud and grit from a less-than-fun hike here, most of which he spent fretting he'd misinterpreted his compass and map. He probably seemed like any random village boy at this point, on the run from Horde influence.

Good.

"Where did you come from?" she asked, gentler this time.

Bow scuffed his boot in the dirt. "West."

"Far west?"

"Felt pretty far."

"Hmm." She stood, wrapping her wings around herself like a cloak. "Well, I can't exactly send you back. Not alone. Not a child. But are you sure you want to be here? There's a bunker close by that's under far less Horde intent."

"No. Never." Bow forced himself to meet the Queen's eye, puffing his cheeks out in hopes it'd make him intimating. He was sick of sticking his head in the sand and letting other people get hurt. Sure, he was young, but that meant he could learn fast, and George always said he was a quick learner. "I want to fight for Etheria, Your Majesty. I want to be a soldier."

Angella smiled, and ruffled his hair. "Let's maybe wait until puberty for that, shall we?"

Chapter Text

It takes three days and five separate army encampments to find the one Bow is sequestered away in. It's not that they're getting fed bad info- it's that Bow is in all of these places and just keeps moving every ten gotdang minutes. Lance is decidedly not happy about the rear ache from riding so many half-baked transports around; and, to George, it's just an uncomfortable reminder of his time in the war, and not being entirely certain where he was going himself.

Finally, finally, they find the right place, located a skip to the right of the last one by about a day's travel. The camp is abuzz as Lance helped George off the final carriage, soldiers slipping in and out and around like ants out to find dinner. It's odd because of how open it is; so many years of hiding from Hordak, from Prime, have made everyone a little wary of being in such big groups for no particular reason.

George and Lance… well, they stick out. A lot. Especially Lance, seeing as he brought a literal fannypack filled to the brim with various gifts from giftshops along the way. But maybe that's a good thing? Because they get maybe five foot away from the guards at the entrance and before George can, again, do the military equivalent of asking to speak to a manager, the one on the left snorts and says, "Lemme guess. Family of Techmaster Bow?"

"Hello to you too," Lance says, eyebrows raised.

"There's been rumors. And, well, the fannypack." The guard cranes their chin over their shoulder. "Netossa! The Techmaster's family is here!"

Netossa seems to appear out of, frankly, and pun-intended, thin air. She gleefully strolls past the guards and gives a quick little half-bow. "Hey! I've been hopin' to catch you guys along the way- fill out my family charts a bit, you know how it is."

"I know." George saluted in reply. "I doubt you remember me, but I served during the first Alliance. We shared a battlefield, once."

"I remember literally everyone," Netossa replied. "Lieutenant George, right? First or Second?"

"Second."

"Honor is mine. S'not often I get to see old friends like this."

"I don't consider us friends, Princess."

She gave his shoulder a gentle knock. "Too bad. You saved my wife a good one back in Skull Path. I don't forget somethin' like that, Lieutenant."

"Only cost me a little nerve damage," he replied, dry. "Where's Bow?"

Netossa jerked her thumb back towards camp. "He's giving a speech right now, but once he's done I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." She patted Lance on the shoulder. The man hadn't spoken, watching their conversation like it was a high-stakes tennis match. "You be good to yourselves, you hear?"

The Princess went to meet up with a group of four, debating shortly before disappearing into the woods. George felt his shoulders relax bit by bit.

"I didn't know you went to Skull Path," Lance commented finally.

George shrugged. "Wasn't there long. Took a hit and was in the tent for four months." He took his husband's hand and squeezed, reassuring him just as much as he was himself. "Shall we?"

There's a circle in the middle of camp, and at the center of that circle is Bow. It's almost ironic, seeing him surrounded when it took them so long to find him. Princesses flanked by soldiers, soldiers flanked by civilians. Behind Bow is a map of Etheria. Beside the map is King Micah. George, eyes wide, stumbles a bit at the sight of the king he'd once assumed dead, but Lance is quick on the draw.

Bow taps the upper crust of Etheria. "Our next major focus should be the Frozen Wastes. The few scattered populations were cut off the most during Prime's invasion, and we have documented proof that elementals are running around. We need to make sure that the destruction hasn't triggered a negative reaction out of them."

Entrapta raised her hand. "What'll we do with the First Ones tech? I have a few suggestions for-"

"We'll worry about extraction later," he replied, grimacing. "I know it's not ideal for your research, but we need to worry more about picking up the pieces than we do upgrading them."

"Oh." She lowered her hand, then raised it again. "I'd like to stay behind for this mission."

"Entrapta-"

"Bow," Entrapta said. Her face was very serious. "There's enough tech in those ice caps to power all of Etheria- and that's just a very rough estimate. I know me. I know I'll hear one frequency and disappear for a couple of days. It's safer for all of us if I focus on repairing communications here."

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Yeah, fine, alright. Request recognized." Bow looked ten years older than he was as his eyes swept the crowd, clearly expecting more refusals, only to land on his dads. George gave him a salute. Lance clapped his hands and shot a thumbs up, smiling proud. The edge of his lip quirked up. It was enough. "Alright. Next point!"

Chapter Text

"Hey, Glimmer, I think I'm about to die," Frosta said, quite seriously, causing the woman to splutter and choke on her tea. "So I just figured I'd tell you I loved you."

Captain Juliet leaned over to pat Glimmer on the back, eyebrow raised. "Should we be worried about invasion?"

"Nah."

"Then could it wait until after the meeting?"

"Absolutely not."

The door opened with a kick, crashing into the wall with a sickening thud. Delegates, Princesses, and soldiers alike turned on their heel as Catra, once fearsome warrior of the Horde, stomped in with fur the color and glitter of candy powder. Her eyes snapped to Frosta's in an instant. She pointed a claw at her. "You."

Frosta hurriedly hugged Glimmer. "Sorry about this love you bye," she said in a rush, taking off out the back door. Catra snarled and hopped across the table, knocking various things aside. She took off down the hall at a sprint.

"I suppose it's a good sign that children feel comfortable playing," Captain Juliet hummed. "Breathe, Your Majesty. Breathe."

"Photos-"

"Already on it, ma'am."

Chapter Text

"Helluva way to die," Lonnie said almost conversationally, coughing up a palmful of blood.

Catra shifted her arm across her shoulder. "You just got stabbed. Stop being a baby about it."

"It's literally a spear in my stomach."

"Fuck off," she replied. "You don't get to die like this. You still owe me a bar from that time I punched Octavia."

"If you can get death to screw off over some bars, be my guest."

Chapter Text

"How did you set an iceberg on fire?" Glimmer demanded, flabbergasted.

"ADVENTURE!" Sea Hawk replied, quite proud. "Also, most of the ship is still, well, ship. Frosta just helped with the beaching part."

Frosta watched the destruction with an eager glow in her eyes. "ADVENTURE!"

"That was literally our ride home," Mermista moaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Chapter Text

"You know, you're absolutely right," Scorpia said. "It's not fair that everyone keeps riding you, but they never return the favor!"

Swift Wind stomped a hoof. "I know, right! I work hard. Flapping my wings enough to carry people is so hard! And does anyone think of holding me gently? It's ridiculous. I know my self-worth sister."

"Here, let me-" Scorpia stepped in font of him and hooked her claws under his midsection. Swift Wind let out a surprised whiney as he rose above the ground without the use of his own limbs. She twisted him around so she could carry him in a form of piggyback. His front hooves flailed before settling on her shoulders, skittering between her spikes. "There we go! It's not as high as flying, but it's the Scorpia Experience."

"Whoa." Swift Wind's eyes glowed with stars. "This is the best moment of my life."

"Glad to be of assistance, buddy!"

Chapter Text

"Hey," said Kyle, pushing his tray through the slat in the cage. "I, uh, I got you some gray bars! They're the good ones."

"I'd be happier knowing Glimmer was okay," Bow replied, chafing in his prom outfit. Kyle watched with wary eyes as he rose from his bench to grab the tray.

He scuffed his boot on the floor. "If it helps, Shadow Weaver isn't the type to- I mean, she wouldn't just..." Kyle's eyebrows furrowed. "She's probably not dead. Not so soon."

"She'll torture Glimmer for info?"

"Oh, no," he said, and laughed. "She'll torture anyone for anything." Bow tensed. The cadet watched his reaction with curiosity. "I gotta say, it's nice to know you guys really are like us. They always told us you were brainwashed by Princesses to do, like, magic stuff."

It was Bow's turn to study the boy. It was hard to see firsthand the crap the Horde was feedings its soldiers. It made it harder to blame them. Harder to fight them. "I'm part of the rebellion because I choose to be. What about you?"

Kyle snorted. "Who, me? I hit basic training age and I went. That's just how it is here, you know?" He wormed his lip between his teeth. "It's for the best. I'd have never done anything with my life if not for Lord Hordak."

Chapter Text

The world is built of wires and blue figures Razz hardly notices. She can't notice. Not with Mara right before her, holding her hands to her cheeks as if Madame Razz is going to slip away next.

"We should make a pie," Mara whispers, eyes watery.

A blue hand settles on her shoulder. "There is no food here. Simply... togetherness." Light Hope looked over the two of them with a slight smile. "I hope it won't be an inconvenience to deal with me for eternity, all of us being dead and all."

"Bah!" Razz waved away the concept. "You could never be an inconvenience, ghost. Not when Mara loves you so."

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry," Adora whispers one night, as they stare into the crushing void of space. "I failed her. I failed the Queen. I failed you."

"I didn't exactly make it easy on you," Glimmer replies, nudging her elbow in a halfhearted attempt to make the warrior crack a smile. "Mom always did say I could be viciously independent."

Adora leaned onto the railing as if taking a blow. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I know she was desperate, but I don't think Angella realized just how bad I am at taking care of people. I failed the last time, too."

Catra, Glimmer's mind echoes, like it wasn't obvious. The next part was hard. She knew it'd be hard. But she knew she needed to know. "What'd she say?"

She pauses, considering it. "She said to take care of each other."

Glimmer waits for the but to come. The but take care of Glimmer especially, since she's my daughter. The but not really. The way such a sentence turned into something just for her. It didn't, and she wishes she was surprised. Glimmer thought the phrasing had been a little odd before. Glimmer knew Adora's mind twisted itself in knots to hurt itself specifically.

"Adora," she said. "Did it ever occur to you that she wanted both of us to take care of each other?"

Adora flinched. "I hope not," she admitted, voice hitching, and Glimmer saw her blue eyes begin to water. "I hope she didn't see me as that much of a failure."

Chapter Text

It comes in flashes.

One second, you're Frosta, on top of the world. Robots crunch under your fists of fury. Soldiers flee in the masses. For a brief, wonderful minute, you think this is it. This is what it feels like to turn the tide of war.

The next second, you're Frosta, on the floor. Your mouth tastes like metal and rainbows. Bad rainbows. You hear, vaguely, the sound of a skiff crashing. You sense Perfuma's heat beside you; she's just as wounded. Robots march ever closer and for a brief, horrifying minute, you think this is it. This is what it feels like to know you're going to die.

You blink, and then there's Scorpia. Scorpia, yelling with more rage than you've ever heard her before. Scorpia, punching holes through machines with her bare claws. Scorpia, in just as much exhaustive agony, dragging herself over to you and falling to her knees, breathing hard.

Next there's the infirmary of Bright Moon. You vision is murky, not quite awake. Your body feels like someone hit you with an ice mallet. A couple of times. And you hear talking.

"They should be awake by now," Perfuma is worrying. "We're all awake."

Your eyes open just enough to see shadows. "The blue one is but a child. Her body needs more time to recover. And Scorpia fought off an army. It's going to take some more time."

"Is she going to be okay? She was so beaten up when we found her."

Shadow Weaver snorts. "Scorpia's drawing feature is being too thick-headed to die. She'll be fine."

You think you might hear a slap.

You bury your head in Scorpia's chest. A claw slowly wraps around your back. The same claw you saw cutting through metal like paper. You move your chin to look at Scorpia. Her eyes are just as fuzzy as yours are, and she's got a nasty black eye and a couple of noticeably decent-sized cuts. You know, without a doubt, that she would never hurt you.

"I've got you, frostbite," she says, and you know you're safe.

Chapter Text

Light Hope tries to bring up the animal co-partner idea early on into Mara's training. This, her data finds, is important. Affection and companionship are vital to the mental health of any First One- and when one is destined to pilot a death machine, it's best to be as stable as possible.

But Mara just smiles, soft and sad, and refuses. "I couldn't do that. Force some animal to deal with my responsibilities."

Next reason, then. "It does not have to be a particular species. You can choose based on your own tastes. My statistics show that giving wings and magic to an animal you enjoy will make it approximately 45% cuter."

"You don't understand," she tells Light Hope, and Light Hope doesn't doubt that. She's realizing she doesn't understand much about Mara. But she wants to. "Animals are their own creatures. They live their own lives. To rip one away from its home and force it into problems that it should never have to deal with- who does that?"

Light Hope's form fizzles a moment. Contemplating. "First Ones. That is what has happened to you." She slowly tilted her head to the side. "Do you... feel empathy? To a conceptual animal?"

"I guess I do."

"That is... illogical."

Mara laughs. It only confuses Light Hope further. "It's a shame you couldn't be She-Ra, Hope. I know you'd do an amazing job."

"If She-Ra was a form that could be made mechanical, it would have," Light Hope answered, frowning, because that makes sense. She understands the logic behind that statement. If she could become such a creature, she would be good at it, because Light Hope is a being made to follow orders regardless of how they turn out. "It requires more than a simple body. It requires- connections with nature, and emotions towards it. Things you are good at. They are... beyond me."

"It's not beyond you, Hope," Mara tsks, taking hold of her hand. "You're amazing, and so smart. You just need practical application. Oh, I could bring you flowers! Wouldn't that be lovely?"

Light Hope finds herself smiling. It's another thing she doesn't understand about Mara; how she manages to pull that from her being without adjusting the settings. But she likes it. "Yes. I think it will be."

Chapter Text

"Fuck you," Catra spat at Lonnie, draining the rest of her bottle. "I'm a fucking delight to be around."

Adora laughed and held up her own beer. "Here, here."

Lonnie snorted. "I've got scars on my arms that say otherwise. You just never liked that my biceps were bigger'n your's."

"Alright, that's it!" She slammed her empty bottle against the wall, raining glass down on Kyle. Catra brandished the makeshift shiv with intent. "We'll see how big your biceps are once I've sliced those bitches."

"I told you," added Adora. "She's a violent drunk."

"And when I'm done with you I'mma shave Adora bald. Because that's the kind of badass I am."

Chapter Text

The next time they see Catra, she's lost most of her mane, and she's with Adora, and she's thrusting out enough gray bars to fill all of them and then some. Kyle didn't even know where she got the gray bars.

Lonnie crossed her arms. "You got somethin' to say?"

Catra glanced at Adora. Adora nodded. "Yeah. I, uh... I'm sorry. For being such a dickweasel." She practically tossed the bars onto Rogelio. "I know this won't, like, make up for it. But I figure you deserve something for having to see me after all that stuff went down."

"Adora always did manage to chill you out," Lonnie replied, but didn't look any less convinced. "And what if we don't accept your apology? You gonna rag on us until we do?"

Catra's face fell flat. Careful. "I'm not expecting any of you to forgive me."

The air turned awkward fast as they all stared at her. Kyle ponied up the courage to step forward and take her hand. "I don't think I can accept," he said, smiling. "But... it means a lot to me that you realize what you did was messed up."

She nodded. "I'm... starting to figure out that forgiveness ain't the point of apologies."

Chapter Text

The buzzing static of Prime's weird doors clung to Catra every time she came to sit with Glimmer. It's stupid. Catra knows it's stupid. Knows that coming back will eventually get her killed, or worse. But, then, Catra's more or less on borrowed time as it is. She liked to pretend that Prime would keep her once this was over, but she didn't live this long on fantasies. In Prime's eyes, Catra is ugly and flawed.

He is, unfortunately, right.

"I was gonna kill you," Glimmer admitted, breaking into the silence. Catra's tail twitched. "I was just so... angry. I wanted to rip you and Hordak to shreds. I was ready to just..." She shifted, setting her head on her knees. "You just looked too pitiful."

"Wouldn't have done you any good, sparkles," she replied. "You'd still be here."

The next part comes out much softer, as if it was harder to say. Maybe it was. "Adora and I were fighting before this happened. She can be so self-righteous sometimes, and it was so easy to blame her for what happened to my mo- to the queen."

"You should blame me for that."

"I did. I do. I blame everyone. I blame myself." She ran her hands down her face. "Shadow Weaver tried to use it against me. She kept asking me what she would've wanted. How was I supposed to respond? If my mom wanted anything, it was to be alive. It was to protect me."

"Must be nice."

Glimmer's brow furrowed at her clipped response. "Adora said Shadow Weaver was kind of like a mom to you two."

Catra broke into drunken giggles at the thought. "Shadow Weaver never gave a damn about any of us. You oughta know that by now." She reached out to touch the static, dragging her claws down it. The electricity felt like little cold knives. "She's like you, you know. Got that dark magic in her."

"Just because the magic is used for dark stuff, doesn't mean-"

"No," she insisted, years away. Different static was around her. In her lungs. Shadow Weaver crept into the body like a virus. Catra's been ill for a long time now. "It was dark magic."

"Fine. Maybe it was. But I'm not using dark magic." She clenched her hands into fists. "Why is it so hard for you to see that?"

Catra couldn't be certain she was speaking to her, but she could give the answer. "All magic's ever done was hurt us. While you and arrowhead were off at weird light parties or making food appear, we were tortured by it. I'll never forget what shadows taste like when they're crammed down your throat."

"Oh," said Glimmer. "Oh."

"Oh," Catra agreed. "You scare the shit outta me, princess. I've just got one helluva fight response."

"I should've seen that. I should've known that. I do know that." Glimmer scrubbed her face with her gloved hand. "I think Shadow Weaver messed with my head. Or maybe I let her? I've messed everything up."

Catra threw her head back, letting it make a solid thunk against the static. "Welcome to the club, sparkles."

Chapter Text

"Absolutely not."

Kyle pointed at Rogelio, who currently had a very clingy hellspawn wrapped around his muzzle. "I, uh, I don't think we have much of an option here."

"Just pull it off- it's not that hard." Lonnie reached up, only for the lizard to pointedly move back and gurgle. "Whattaya mean imprinting? That's Hordak's little tattletale!"

Rogelio snarled what would basically translate to, "My freak of nature now." and tilted his head up, displaying Imp with pride.

Chapter Text

By the third wrench in the wall by her head, it's become a sort of game for Hordak. He stomps and snarls, tossing this and that aside. Entrapta hardly seems to notice, only pausing when he rips her recorder out of her hair hand.

"Rude," she pouted.

Hordak bared his teeth at her. "You don't fear me. Why?"

Entrapta blinked at him a moment, as if this was a very confusing quandary. "Why would I be?"

"I'm Lord Hordak, leader of-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know all of that stuff. But we're lab partners. Being scared of my lab partner seems silly." She held out her hand with a smile. "Besides, fear can lead to great biases in science in efforts to appease the one who frightens. I won't have my work be sloppy."

Bewildered, Hordak gives her the recorder, still in pristine condition.

Chapter Text

"You think you're soooo special, don't you?"

Melog meowed. They looked quite smug from their spot on the bed.

"Just rub it in, why don't you?" Swift Wind demanded, flaring his wings. "Well, the joke's on you. I know for a fact that Adora doesn't feed you any hay. You might get the snuggle-warmth, but I get the killer snacks."

"Cats don't eat hay," Catra told him.

"Oh, come on!" He stamped the ground. "I can't even have a consolation prize? It's bad enough the furrball is already Adora's favorite. Next you'll be telling me there's special soft beds for cats, too!"

"Um-"

Adora cut her off before she could finish, exiting the bathroom. "I'm sorry you can't sleep in bed with us, Swiftie. It's just not built for horses." She gave his neck a pat. "It'd break under all your beefy muscles."

"I know you're just playing to my ego, but that... does make me feel a little better, actually." He gave Melog a derisive snort and turned, letting his mane dramatically flip. "I'm going to go ask Bow for a horse-proof bed."

"You can horse-proof the bed, but you can't horse-proof my kneecaps," Catra replied. "We'll build you a little nook to sleep in nearby, alright?"

"With hay?"

"Will you shut up and let us sleep if I say yes?"

Chapter Text

Finn thinks very little about it, growing up. Their flappy friend comes once a year, with a soft smile and a smell like lavender. Her wings shiver into the night sky, twinkling and bright. She has long gloves and a habit of steepling her fingers. She reminds Finn of Aunt Glimmer.

"The veil is thinnest this time of year," she says, voice distant. A memory, perhaps. Or a hologram. "All sorts of barriers weaken a bit. And I always find myself here."

Finn licked up some ice cream dripping down the cone. "So you're, like, dead?"

The woman frowns. "I sure hope not. That would be sad."

"Do you remember who you are?"

"Bits and pieces. I think my name was Angie, or something like it. Maybe I didn't have a name at all." She pinched her brow. "When I squint very hard, I can see... a sword. And someone I think I respected very much."

Chapter Text

Catra relaxes into Scorpia's arm in increments. They both know not to bring up her tears, or her visit to their prisoner in the back, or Scorpia's proposal. Especially Scorpia's proposal.

"What's so great about this place anyway?" Catra spits bitterly as they leave the Wastes.

"Well," said Scorpia, no longer enjoying the place much herself. "I could be in love with you here. T-theoretically, of course."

Catra's eyes burn into her. Scorpia knows not to meet them.

"Yeah?" she asks. "What then?"

Her face feels like it's on fire as she tapped a tune out on the ship's metal hull. "Well, we could do stuff like hold hands. We'd find a little shelter and you'd take over the world, and when you came home from a long day of ruling, I'd have tea and gray bars ready."

Scorpia expects Catra to be angry at the assumption, but somehow the gentle pity is worse. Far worse. She looks down and away. "I wanted something like that, once. With Adora." The name feels like a dagger to the side as she meets her gaze with resolve. As if Scorpia needs that info. As if it wasn't clearly, abundantly obvious. "It was stupid. That's stupid."

"Yeah," said Scorpia, feeling her hopes wither like flowers. "I guess I am."

Chapter Text

"You can't possibly be serious, Force Captain."

"I'm just- testing all my options, ma'am," Octavia replied, rubbing her new eye patch. "The Horde isn't a place for children, and especially not the naval unit. You already took in those two other brats."

"Those other two show promise. Well, one does, at least." Shadow Weaver waved a hand towards the white-haired girl currently hanging half-off the edge of her balcony. "That, Force Captain, is an insect."

"We have to put her somewhere, ma'am. We tried to get her all Princess-y, have her as a double agent." She cleared her throat. "Didn't- didn't go very well. This are her last options."

Shadow Weaver leaned in close, eyes narrowed. "Force Captain, I will be very clear about this. I want nothing to do with the Scorpi girl. The idea of having her face anywhere near my chambers repulses me. And what if the Black Garnet is activated?"

"Doubtful. She's proven to be a pretty terrible Princess."

"Good for her. I'll have no part in it."

Octavia sighed and saluted. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." She turned and retrieved the child, cradling her like an oddly-shaped box in her arms. "Alright, runt. Let's get you those sea legs."

Scorpia pointed an eager claw down below. "Who're those kids?"

She squinted over the edge in time to see Catra and Adora, chasing each other in one of a million inane games. Octavia's lip curled. "Forget those worms. We'll make you some proper allies. Some shrimp or something, I dunno."

"I like worms," Scorpia replied, and the longing in her eyes was practically palpable. Octavia ignored it and moved along.

Chapter Text

"WHY DO YOU HAVE MOLOTOV COCKTAILS?"

"Uhhhhh," Mermista said. "I think the question is, why don't you have Molotov cocktails." She lit the bottle and heaved, sending it into a Horde boat. "Come on, Perfuma, live a little. These bastards stole my house. I'm allowed."

"They almost destroyed my home, my friends, and my entire way of life." Perfuma's smile was just a tad off-center. "But you don't see me chucking fire bottles into the ocean, Mermista."

"I clean my own litter, Princess. It's part of the whole mermaid thing." Mermista held an unlit one for her to take, wiggling it enticingly. "You know you wanna."

Perfuma considered it for only a second before snatching the bottle. "YOU'RE ABOUT TO EXPERIANCE THE WRATH OF A GOD MOTHERFUCKER!" she screeched at what was quickly becoming a fleeing war ship.

"That's my girl," Mermista said, and lit the fuse.

Chapter Text

Huntara lifted her drink to her lips with a grin. "S'that your idea of inconspicuous, hotshot?"

"No," said Hordak, stuffed under a neon green robe. "It's my idea of getting out of the sun, Captain."

"Been a long time since I was a Captain, emo bat. 'Sides, it's not like your precious kingdom is still running."

Hordak grimaced. "You're enjoying this."

"Anyone in the Wastes would feel the exact same." She settled her chin on her hand. "Let's be real about this, Hordak. You're no one's favorite here. Most of this bar wants to run you through and let the salamanders have the rest."

"I was given recommendation of you, from She-Ra."

"Were you, now? I guess I'll have to fight She-Ra the next time I visit."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a huff. "I am not asking you to like me, or even to respect me. Your deserter status is enough to make me feel the same. But I need to know where the wreckages of my war machines are if I am to fix this." He stiffly held out a hand. "Take me to them, and we shall part ways without hassle."

She stared at the hand, then his face, then her drink. Huntara laughed, grabbing hold with more force than strictly necessary. "If you manage to fix the shit you've done to this planet, I'll be mighty surprised. But it's no skin off my tongue to get rid of some eyesores." She squeezed. "And if you fail, you'll be one of them."

"That seems fair," he agreed. "I wish us a prosperous alliance, Huntara of the Wastes."

Chapter Text

Sea Hawk paused in his storytelling to take a swig from her colorful mug. "All I'm saying is that it's not gay to kiss the homies goodnight."

"HELL yeah," Lonnie said, slapping the table. "I kiss Kyle and Rogelio goodnight, and it ain't gay."

"I don't think you know what that word means," Mermista said around her mug.

"Okay, but-" Bow paused to suck in a fortifying breath. He held his hands out sideways, as if positioning a picture frame. "it was mY WEDDING-"

Chapter Text

Catra isn't sure, exactly, when she scooted from her end of the circle over to Adora's side. Or maybe she just didn't want to diagnose it; jot down in her daily log how many bites of a weird wrapper thing (bun, Glimmer had said. She also said something about it being savory. Catra doesn't pretend to know. Food is food) it takes for her to go crawling back to her. How weak she is. How stupidly, stupidly hopeful she is.

(It doesn't help that Adora is sitting cross-legged, the way she always did when she was hoping for snuggles.)

"You look like you're gonna explode," Glimmer commented, eyebrows raised mischievously. It's still really weird for them to be treating her like they've been friends for years. Scorpia was the same way. Must be a Princess thing.

Adora nervously patted her legs. She used to be more confident- in the Horde. Catra wonders about that sometimes. Maybe it was easier to be proud when you were one soldier in a huddle over one very important person. "I'm just- I'm just sitting here. Um. Catra?"

Catra pulled a little sneaky maneuver and stretched her arms above her head, jaws splitting in a yawn. She let her limbs relax and found herself falling, falling, falling, landing her lap with a thud. Adora's eyes are sparkling. Catra can't resist a grin.

At least that hadn't changed.

At least Adora was still warm.

"Oh," said Bow, voice cracking. It sounded very... squeaky. "Oh, is that a purr? Are you- are you purring? Do you purr?"

"Alright, that's it. I'm killing every person on board this ship." Catra studied her bun a second longer, then decided against chucking it. Food is food. "Adora, hand me something sharp. I need to teach boy blunder a lesson."

Chapter Text

The first failure, Hordak punishes. By this point, it's mostly just embarrassing.

"Tell me, Captain," he repeated for what felt like tenth time too many, tapping his claws on his metal throne. "How can we manage to defeat entire nations, conquest the largest of cities, and wipe out entire monarchies... but this mile of grass is somehow too fierce?"

Octavia winced and saluted. "I'm sorry, sir, but it's impossible. The Lady of Moths has this- this magic of some sort. No one I've sent has bested her." Her cheeks went bright red. "Even I failed, sir."

"Your time at sea has made you superstitious, Captain. Nothing reported to me has fallen into any known category of magic."

"It could be dark magic, sir."

"Captain, we have a bundle of dark magic living in our garage. Trust me. It's not magic." He reluctantly stood, wiping some dust off his cape. "If you want it done right..." It's practically on their front lawn, for pity's sake. The fact that he has to make an appearance is ridiculous.

Then he actually gets there, and his canon malfunctions the moment he points it at the cave, and Lord Hordak has to admit that Octavia may have had a point somewhere along the way. Frustrated, he smacked it with his hand.

The Lady of Moths looks up from her sweeping. Almost instantly Hordak feels himself being studied, head tilted, as confusion swirled in the elderly woman's eyes. It came across as less her trying to decide if she knew him and more her trying to decipher where she was all together.

"Ah," she says, perking up. Her broom naturally rested on her shoulder. "The little Prime."

Hordak straightened. "You... know my brother?"

She waggles a finger at him. "Madame Razz knows everybody, dearie," she said, and winked. "Come inside. I have pie! Or was it jam? We have much to discuss- about your cadets, and about Eternia."

Chapter Text

"Wha- how?" Catra demanded. "I was gone for five minutes."

Scorpia, covered in kittens, shrugged. The smile on her face was pure bliss. "Most cats just seem to like me. Anyway, this is Scruffles, Blaster, Nuclear Warhead-"

"Scorpia. We aren't keeping them."

"Wildcat," she replied, just as flippantly. "I love you, but if you make me give up these cats I will bend every tank nozzle in the Horde, rendering us incapable of fighting the Princesses."

Catra contemplated it, tail twitching. She knew that the Force Captain was capable of it. "...That's a low blow and you know it."

"Don'tcha wanna see Adora? I hear She-Ra's got this knew swoopy-move with her sword that-"

"FINE." She tossed her hands up. "I guess we're keeping them. Fuck it. If you can keep all these fuzzy little bastards from Hordak, you can have them."

"Oh, that's the easy part. Entrapta loves kittens almost as much as I do."