Chapter Text
Catra looked out her carriage window as the driver drove her through the capital city of the Etherian Empire. It had been almost three years since she had been in the nation, and almost four since she had set foot behind Bright Moon’s walls. It looked nicer; the streets were cleaner and the buildings actually seemed to be standing on their own. There were still beggars in dark corners, but all in all the quality of life for the average Etherian seemed to be on the rise.
That almost made Catra feel bad about her mission. Last month, she had received a letter from her handler, Weaver, informing her that she had a new mission in her home empire. Apparently, some wealthy nobles were tiring of Duchess Avalon and wanted her disposed of in a dramatic fashion. Catra was to infiltrate the Etherian court and gain the duchess’ trust until she was given the signal to strike. It would likely be a multi-month mission, but she would be rewarded handsomely one it was done.
But, from what Catra had learned in her subsequent debriefing from Entrapta, Duchess Avalon was one of the driving forces behind the kingdom’s recent improvement. She had been placed in charge of her nation’s military and the general safety of her citizens. Not only had the duchess increased education opportunities for young peasants looking to join the crown’s defenses, but she had put a fair amount of energy into giving her people safer living conditions.
Too bad it was too late for Catra. She had grown up in the slums directly outside of Bright Moon, which had been affectionately dubbed the Fright Zone by its inhabitants. Her father was never in the picture and her mother was much too young to be raising a child, so Catra roamed the streets every day with some of the other kids in her “neighborhood” of poorly constructed straw roofs that fell in on themselves the moment the wind picked up. They ran chores for their overworked parents and played in the filthy river and smiled nicely at the rich people going into Bright Moon in the hopes of getting some extra food for the night.
Around her fifteenth birthday, Catra’s life fell apart. She was done with the harshness of her life and wanted to do something besides begging on the streets and running errands for the neighborhood ladies. So she started fighting people. She picked fights whenever she could, with people larger and stronger than her. At first, she would end up curled up in a ball in a ditch with a bloody lip and a black eye and blood stains on her shirt. She didn’t know why she kept on picking fights when she was clearly out of her element. It could have been spite, or maybe just sheer determination to accomplish something. Whatever it was, she didn’t stop fighting.
Eventually, she started winning. It turns out that people underestimate the power of a small, scrappy fighter. Catra would claw at their skin and run them in circles until they collapsed and begged for her to stop. Sometimes she stopped, sometimes she didn’t.
By her sixteenth birthday, she was actually quite well known in the Fight Zone. One day, she tried to grab the coin purse of a man who was passing through their local tavern. The man had stopped her and tried to force her to give him the coins back, but Catra had resisted. This led to a heated fight that broke two tables and gave Catra a scar on her arm. In the end, she lost. But the man was so inspired by her tenacity that he gave her a dagger and a book on how to use it.
Catra spent the next couple of weeks pouring over the book, memorizing every flick of the wrist and footwork sequence. She went from a little scary to downright terrifying. All of the inhabitants of the Fright Zone knew not to cross her. She chased the high of being feared. It was the only way she could control her life.
About half a year after that, the owner of the tavern decided to get into prize fighting. Naturally, he asked Catra if she would like to participate. Catra did, and she started winning fights for money. At first, the opponents were small and feeble and the prize money wasn’t even enough to buy her dinner. But the fights soon became the sole attraction of the Fright Zone, and larger and more experienced opponents began flocking to the makeshift arena to claim the rising prize money.
Catra learned more in the first month of prize fighting than she ever learned from that book. She was a young woman now, almost fully grown and aware of how terrifying she could be when she wanted. And even better, she had started to make a life for herself. She was saving up to buy a house inside the walls of Bright Moon, one near the well so she could bathe herself in clean water.
Then Weaver came into her life. Catra didn’t know much about Weaver. She didn’t know where she came from or why she had come to the Fright Zone. She doubted Weaver was really even her true name. All she knew was that Weaver was impressed with Catra’s skills. She offered her money to kill some young merchant who was living in Bright Moon. Catra did it in one night, with a clean slash to the throat. Weaver had been delighted and offered Catra a job in the Horde, a society of assassins. Catra had, of course, accepted, and before she knew it she was moving into a modest house in the next kingdom over and having etiquette and poetry and fighting technique drilled into her.
Catra hadn’t been assigned a job in the Etherian Empire since then. Weaver told her it was a precautionary measure. The risk of Catra being recognized in the Etherian Empire was much higher than her being recognized in any other kingdom, so Catra hadn’t returned home.
Until now. Catra glanced down at her papers. She was supposed to be the third daughter of the Marquess of Dryl. Dryl was the territory furthest from the capital and communication with them was weak due to their harsh winters. Therefore, no one would know enough about Dryl to call her on her bluff. Plus, she was using Entrapta’s papers, and Entrapta was the actual third daughter of the Marquess. The fact that she hadn’t been home in over five years was beside the point.
As her carriage neared the castle, Catra pulled out her hand mirror to check her appearance. She had received a thorough briefing on current Etherian fashion and etiquette a few days ago. If she was going to gain this Avalon’s trust, she would need to make sure she was on her best behavior.
Catra wondered what Avalon would be like. Probably stuffy and shallow, like all of her other targets. Sometimes, all it took to gain the trust of her mark was a slightly revealing outfit and a few well-placed giggles. Sometimes, it was as easy as a generous application of blush. Nobles, especially royals, liked their surroundings pretty and dumb. It made them feel better.
“Papers?” The guard at the front of the castle gate extended their hand expectantly. Catra grabbed her papers from her bag and handed them over.
“Thank you… Lady Catrina of Dryl. We will inform Sir Bow of your arrival. Please wait in the main courtyard,” The guard instructed before giving her driver directions to the stables. Catra excited her carriage as gracefully as possible, which was easier said than done in a dress. She hated wearing dresses, but for whatever reason they were in fashion in the Etherian Empire right now, so she had to wear one.
Catra thanked her driver before making her way to the main courtyard. It was a beautiful spring day out, which meant the flowers in the courtyard garden were in full bloom. There were fountains bubbling with clean water and statues of former Emperors and Empresses. She settled on sitting on a bench with a view of the centerpiece; a large sundial with an ovular opal at the top.
As she waited, she mentially went through her backstory one more time. She was the youngest child of the Marquess and therefore had little power at home. She hated the cold, desolate isolation of Dryl and decided to come to Bright Moon for some networking and warmer winters. She knew all of her “siblings'” names and her “parents'” names and her “grandparents’” names. She was prepared for anything this duchess might ask her, and even if she wasn’t, she was an excellent liar. She was ready.
“Lady Catrina?” A voice called from behind her. She turned to see a man with dark skin and a bright smile on his face. Next to him was a woman with short, pink hair and a scowl.
“You must be Sir Bow,” Catra smiled politely, “And you are?”
“Glimmer, the crown Princess of Etheria,” The woman said as she crossed her arms. Apparently the third daughter of Dryl was not entitled to a warm reception.
“Don’t be intimidated by Glimmer, she just wanted to meet our newest court member!” Bow smiled at her, “Although I have to say we’re a little confused. We were under the impression that Entrapta was the third daughter of the Marquess?”
Well shit. These people knew Entrapta? Why hadn’t she bothered to mention that when she was forging Catra’s papers?
“Was. She’s unfortunately dead,” Catra said the first lie that came to mind.
“Entrapta’s dead?” Bow looked on the verge of tears. Even her royal highness of anger looked a little upset.
“Yes. Of dysentery, actually. It was quite horrible. Her father sent a messenger, didn’t you receive it?” Catra felt a little bad about “killing” Entrapta, but Entrapta was happily forging papers on an island off the coast of the Kingdom of Krytis and had no desire to return to Etheria.
“It must have been lost in the winter,” Glimmer shook her head.
“I am so sorry for your loss, Lady Catrina,” Bow said solemnly.
“Thank you. Entrapta meant a lot to me,” Catra nodded, trying her best to look on the verge of tears.
“If I may ask, how exactly are you related to Entrapta?” Glimmer pried as gently as one could.
“Entrapta was my wife,” Catra lied easily.
Bow’s eyes widened in surprise, “Entrapta was married?”
Oh, these people knew Entrapta. Enough to know that she definitely wouldn’t have any interest in being married. They probably even knew the age gap between them was troubling. This was bad. This was really bad.
“It wasn’t a true marriage. When we met I was a peasant, but she offered to marry me to give me an opportunity at a better life. Without her, I would probably be married to a man twice my age and have five kids,” Catra lied. She figured she might as well give herself as accurate of a backstory as possible. Turns out the Etherian Empire had their shit more together than the Horde had thought.
“She always was kind,” Bow nodded, clearly buying the story. Even Glimmer looked convinced. Crisis averted.
“So,” Catra cleared her throat after a brief pause, “My father-in-law told me he requested I serve Duchess Avalon specifically. I must admit I haven’t been following court politics as closely as I probably should have. Would you mind telling me a bit about her?”
That was clearly the right thing to ask. Both nobles lit up instantly. “Oh, Ad-Duchess Avalon is amazing! Your father-in-law was smart to request that you work with her,” Bow smiled.
“Here, let’s give you a tour while we talk,” Glimmer offered before walking inside the castle. Catra and bow followed close behind.
“Duchess Avalon is especially passionate about protecting her people. As head of the knights, I work with her a lot to put her grand plans into motion,” Bow continued explaining.
“Avalon’s technically a knight herself. I honestly don’t know the last time I’ve seen her without a sword,” Glimmer laughed. Well shit. The competent ones were always harder to kill. Catra would probably have to go with poison this time.
“How interesting. I learned a bit of swordsmanship in Dryl. It helped pass the long winters,” Catra said. Hopefully that would explain the sword that she definitely packed in her carriage. She didn’t trust Glimmer to not order someone to go through all her stuff.
“Really? You’ll have to spar with us sometime,” Bow smiled before rambling about the knight’s training schedule. As they walked, they passed the kitchens, dining hall, and throne room.
“So, back to Avalon. Right now, she’s got this big plan to destroy the wall of Bright Moon and join it and the outlying slums. Have you ever heard of the Fright Zone?” Bow turned to her.
Catra nodded. She decided not to elaborate further.
“Yeah, Avalon’s got a real connection to that place. She’s determined to make it better for the people,” Glimmer continued.
The way they described Avalon reminded Catra of the only good thing about those fifteen years in the Fright Zone: her best friend, Adora. The other girl had always been looking towards the future with stars in her eyes. She would tell Catra of her grand plans to become rich and use all of her money to rebuild the crumbling houses in their neighborhood. She had plans to fix the broken well in the center of town and build a school and even hire a healer. Merging Bright Moon and the Fright Zone was exactly the kind of overly optimistic plan Adora would think up.
Catra smiled to herself as she remembered those nights spent sleeping in the hay behind the stables. Adora always had some absurd plan to lift them from the throes of poverty and give them the life they deserved. Catra listened happily. She didn’t care what they did or where they lived, as long as she was with Adora, she would be complete.
“Sounds ambitious,” Catra observed, “Do you think she’ll be able to do it?”
“Oh yeah. Once Avalon’s set on something, it gets done,” Glimmer nodded.
Again, that was so much like Adora. Her and Adora had wandered the streets alone, flitting from house to house and doing chores and learning random skills. Every adult in the Fright Zone taught them something, from sewing and telling if a food was too rotten to eat to tying sailor knots. There was even one woman who used to be a private tutor, and she would spend her afternoons giving the children of the Fright Zone lessons. Everyone had always thought Adora was a fast learner; the prodigy of the town. But Catra knew it wasn’t true. She was the fast learner of the pair. Adora spent hours pouring over the waterlogged books that were missing pages, reading and writing and determinedly practicing her skills until they were perfect.
“She sounds like a wonderful leader,” Catra said politely.
“Oh she is,” Bow nodded, “These are the training grounds, by the way. Avalon probably spends more time here than I do.”
The training grounds were beautiful, if you were into large stretches of dust. It had a large arena in the middle surrounded by a wooden fence as well as two smaller arenas to the side. There were structures that Catra assumed held practice weapons and flags bearing the crest of the Empress flapping in the wind.
“I suppose I’ll have to familiarize myself with the grounds quickly, then,” Catra laughed. It sounded fake, but only if you really knew her. Both Bow and Glimmer seemed convinced it was her normal laugh.
“That’s about it for the tour. I’m not sure which chambers Avalon wants to assign to you, so we should probably just take you to meet her,” Glimmer announced once Catra was marched down the servant’s wing.
“Okay,” Catra nodded. She was excited to meet her target. In some sick, twisted way, she actually liked getting to know the people she was hired to kill. Every noble had a deep, unsavory secret. That’s just what years of power and wealth and disconnect from reality did to someone. Catra loved learning exactly what bone-chilling thing was getting her marks killed.
They made their way down a hallway before arriving at an office. Glimmer opened the door, and Catra’s eyes caught a flash of blonde hair. Her heart skipped a beat as she made contact with striking blue eyes.
When Adora first came to the Fright Zone, it was in a basket on the doorstep of the local brothel with a rain-soaked note. The only writing that could be made out was the word “daughter” and the letter A, hence the head courtesan giving her the name Adora. The community had decided that a brothel was no place for a baby to grow up, so she was passed from house to house and raised by everyone. As was Catra, whose mother married an old rich man and left her behind when she was five.
But then, on Catra’s fifteenth birthday exactly, the most terrible thing had happened. Some family of well dressed rich people had rode into their neighborhood on horses and began asking questions about a young girl who had been left there about fifteen years ago. Of course, the adults told them about Adora and her mysterious appearance. The rich people then claimed that they knew who her mother actually was, and said that she should come with them. Permanently.
At first, Adora had protested. Then, she asked if Catra could come. But after a few minutes and a large amount of encouragement from both the town adults and the new fancy people, she decided to go. Without Catra. Adora had been given the life she had always wanted, leaving Catra in the dust.
Catra had resigned herself to never seeing her best friend again. It had hurt; it had ultimately been what turned her to fighting. So Catra was not prepared in the slightest to meet those vivid blue eyes again.
“Catra?” The duchess said in shock.
“Hey, Adora,” Catra greeted the only person in the entire world who had the ability to call her out on a lie, “It’s been awhile.”