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Tap, tap, tap.
The cane taps against the floor audibly as Hordak walks down the palace hall. The sound echoes out in the otherwise quiet structure. The light shines in, dancing through windows and across paintings and sculptures that line the walls. The style of Bright Moon is anything but his, but he will admit that for those who enjoy ridiculous opulence it must have its charm. His free hand reaches up, adjusting the dress he is wearing slightly, making sure the crystal embedded into his sternum remains hidden beneath the top while still showing some skin of his chest. It does not need to be hidden necessarily, but he feels more secure that way.
It has been some time since he has been here in Bright Moon. Some time since he has had to be here.
He glances down at his hand for a moment, eyeing the pink circuit-like veins making themselves apparent through his skin. He taps into the regulators built into his body life and turns down the crystals output some, there is no need for excess here. Nothing heavy to move, no battle to fight. Though Prime’s technology had healed him for a time at the climax of Etheria’s great war Hordak's body was never willing to remain healthy. He began to degenerate once more as the treatments he and Entrapta made for his fellow clones failed to work on Hordak himself. It took many years to perfect the system he uses now, but they had managed to make his body whole in their own imperfect way. There is little need for an exoskeleton outside of the most grueling of work these days. Most of the technology that keeps him alive and comfortable is integrated directly into him now, or woven into the fabric of his garments using ancient First One’s techniques. He does not even really need the cane, but it is a good aesthetic. The wardrobe possibilities that such developments opened up have been nice.
The clone turns in the hall and moves out onto one of the palace’s many balconies, just as he had been asked to. Immediately he spots the gray haired woman sitting on a bench, looking out across the landscape. A small almost sad smile plays at her aged face. His eyes take all of her in quickly, the stoutness of her form, the simple clothes of a commoner that she chooses to wear. His internal information systems pull up relevant data on her as well. This he dismisses, he does not need such things for her.
Gray eyes turn to him, the smile growing slightly. “Hordak.” she says, then pats the bench beside her.
Hordak nods his head before stepping forward and lowering himself down. “Adora.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d come. It’s been awhile since we’ve heard from you.” she notes.
“I am surprised you would want to hear from me, let alone have me here.” the old clone replies.
Adora shakes her head. “No you’re not. You know I forgave you a long time ago.”
“Ah, but the Queen-” he begins to counter.
“Even Glimmer understands that you’re not a threat anymore. Though yeah. She doesn’t like you.” Adora admits.
Hordak nods at that. It makes sense for Queen Glimmer to hold a grudge so long. After all, like her mother before her, she scarcely seems to age with the passing of the years. It is difficult to move on when the passage of time will not carry you as quickly as others. He would know.
There is silence for a moment after that. Adora has resumed watching the world. Hordak eyes her for a moment, then follows her gaze to the Etherian Landscape. Then upward still to the massive tree that was once the Velvet Glove above them. They call it beautiful now. He still calls it victory. This is not the first time he and Adora have sat silently. When their war ended the two had time. Adora had seen him, and she had saved him. He had no more hate for her then, and she knew enough kindness to try and understand. Long ago he would have called it a weakness of hers, he still might. As he helped to pick up the pieces of the world he had first helped to break they became something of friends. She helped to mend the relationship between Hordak and Catra as well. Admittedly as time went on it was Catra that he had a stronger friendship with than Adora, but it was Adora who had facilitated it. It was her hand that let him eventually meet Catra’s eyes. It was through Adora that he had finally connected with the one person who truly understood both life upon Etheria and the horror of their shared Brother. He even attended their wedding.
In time however they left. They went to explore the stars he had once aided in the conquest of.
Hordak had stayed.
He was not alone, of course. He had Entrapta, Emily, and their many other creations together. That is why he stayed. For once, not because he was made to, but because he chose to.
They were gone for some time, and he only got the shortest of burst messages from Catra to be passed along to any others. Even on the day of the eventual return of Etheria’s heroes he did not see Adora directly. Though Catra did visit. To speak of all that had happened, to tell him of good times and bad on her adventures. In turn he had told her of his days of peace, and on the exploration of the world they had once tried to break. After that they parted ways and did not see as much of each other. Hordak kept in touch with his friend, but he was not one for adventures or even dabbling much in affairs outside of business he and Entrapta were explicitly needed for. Repairing technologies, repairing the planet, aiding clones. Those sorts of things.
He had stopped keeping in touch altogether when Entrapta got sick. A problem that needed all of his attention to solve.
“What is it you needed of me, Adora?” Hordak asks calmly as he looks back over at her.
Her expression changes from forlorn to quite sad as he asks his question. It gives the once warlord concern. Adora’s next words are slow, shaky. “Catra… Passed away recently.” they come out as almost a whisper. The pain is clear on them, and the serene mask that Adora had been wearing crumbles apart. Her eyes squeeze closed, and a tear trails out from the corner of her left.
Hordak finds his own thoughts halting entirely. His eyes widen, his lungs cry out for breath as quickly as possible. Rapidly he begins to try and understand what could have happened, his mind plays through countless scenarios as the warm pleasant sunlight becomes a scorching horror upon him. He feels his talons flex, digging into the bench. He feels emotions well in his core. “What happened?” he asks with a hiss.
Adora doesn’t immediately reply, taking a moment to wipe her eyes and re-compose herself. Then Adora finally looks up. “Nothing happened, Hordak.”
“What?” His eyes narrow now. “Then how did this… come to pass?” He has to pause to choose his words.
“She got old.” Adora says softly. “Like all of us.”
The breath comes deep now, and the old clone looks Adora over once more. The grayed hair, the wrinkles upon her wizened face, she seems smaller overall than she once did. Entrapta looked like that as well for a time. Seemingly thinner skin and weaker bones. Hordak’s mouth opens and closes, and he looks away quickly. His eyes focus on the stone of the balcony as he thinks about all the time that has passed.
It is difficult to see these things at all when the passage of time does not carry you as quickly as others. He knew so many years had passed of course but the reality of what that meant had once more eluded him.
“I… I had not spoken to her…” He says quietly. “Not in…”
“It’s been years.” Adora agrees. “But… she got it.” Adora finally says. “Your last message was about Entrapta and well…”
Hordak squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “I should have spoken to her again, I have been too distracted.”
“It’s okay Hordak.” Adora suddenly assures him. “She wanted to reach out too. She just ran out of time before we expected.” she sighs. “Catra’s species I guess doesn’t live quite as long as others.”
Hordak’s eyes turn back to Adora, watching the sorrow written on her features. “I am sorry, Adora.” he says quietly.
She just nods, wiping her eyes again. “I.” she pauses. “I knew.” she says. “I knew that I was gonna live longer. You and Entrapta told us all about the magic in my body and all of that years ago. It’s just…” She trails off there.
“I understand.” He says quietly, a small nod in return at her. Then he turns his head back down. “Has there… been a service?” he asks. “That is an Etherian Custom…”
Adora shakes her head. “Not yet. I wanted you to have a chance to attend.”
“Thank you.” The silence returns, and the two old warriors sit there for some time. Hordak’s mind looks back over the decades of memory accumulated on this world he once despised. Battles fought, wars lost, freedom gained, friends made, love felt. She had been there through so much of that. She had been a subordinate, a traitor, an equal, an enemy, a sister, and then a friend. Friend had lasted so much longer than all the others.
“How had she been?” Hordak finally asks. “Since I became scarce. Had she been well?”
Adora nods. That small smile returning to her features. “Yeah. She was getting up to mischief until the end.”
Hordak finds a tiny fragment of a chuckle at that comment. “That is good to hear.” he replies. “I am… glad.”
“She made fun of you until the end, too.” Adora adds.
That gets the full chuckle from him. “I am sure she did.”
__________________
The sun had set when he finally left that balcony. The conversation had picked up, and gone long. Reminiscing. Pondering. Even joking here and there. It hurt, but it was still good to do. Adora needed it, and so did he. Adora knew what few others did, she knew what it meant that for a time Catra and Hordak had shared a Brother. She knew what it meant for both of them, and that it had caused the two many nights sitting with one another barely speaking. Adora knew that even if the two had never had the friend relationship someone like Bow might expect, they had been close in a way no others could be. It is why he is here, and Adora knew while any other would dismiss Hordak’s presence entirely.
He descends the steps of Bright Moon. Walking down to the surrounding city. He does not care to stay in the palace. It is not a place for him.
Tap tap tap.
It is the cobblestone now that taps and clicks under his cane. It had been a gift from Entrapta, to help him when he was getting sick once more. He smiles as he thinks of her. Her beauty, her kindness, her wonderful callousness and scientific focus as well. The small burdened smile remains as he opens the door to the inn and steps inside. He takes a moment to make sure he is presentable enough before stepping up to the proprietor.
“Greetings. I should have a room here? It would have been claimed earlier today by-”
“HORDAK!” The nasally voice calls out, and suddenly he feels arms wrap around him. Hordak gives a grunt of surprise, then a small laugh. His talons momentarily rest upon those wrapped around his waist. Then he pulls himself free and turns to see the woman who dared to hug him.
The berry skinned non-standard clone before him beams up, meeting his red eyes with her own bright glowing magenta ones. Motile hair curls and moves around Hordak as he gets lost in her smile for a moment. “Entrapta,” he says. “apologies for being gone for so long.”
Entrapta had gotten sick many years ago. Her body had begun to fail. Years of self modification with poorly understood First One’s technology, an already fragile Etherian base for a body, plus the passage of time, had all led to the near loss of the most brilliant woman in the universe.
Yet if the two could learn to keep Hordak’s body going, if they could learn how to give treatment to countless freed clones that needed regular maintenance from prime to survive, they could surely beat that. Entrapta’s body was sick, but not her mind, and a body is something they could make. A mind is something they could transfer using the technologies of Prime, those now forbidden practices others thought lost with the emperor. It was their secret what they did. This brand new clone had been made, Entrapta’s mind placed within, and since then none had been told. It would have only raised too much concern from those who remembered how Prime would change his bodies.
“It’s okay! What did Adora want?!” She asks as she moves up to give Hordak a kiss.
He returns it, and then frowns. “Ah. Yes. We should talk about that in the room. Is that alright?”
“Of course!” she chirps. “It’s this way.” she adds before heading up the stairs. Hordak watches her for a moment, sighing slightly, and then follows.
It will be a somber night, to be sure. Yet together it will be weathered, all things can be weathered together.