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The trouble with bringing magic back to the universe is that it's much more complicated than it sounds. Which is just like Adora, really, Catra thinks with a mixture of affection and exasperation. Some endless spark of optimism that somehow, the world hasn't made her lose yet, coupled with the urge to run into danger without thinking twice.
Turns out, of course, that just because the Horde is functionally over, doesn't mean there weren't always going to be the holdouts, attached to their fraction of empire. The clones themselves are largely harmless now that Prime is gone, but there are other soldiers, programmed robots, complicit governments clinging on to the old order.
This is like, the seventh battle they've fought in two weeks. Catra has said “told you so,” quite a few times (but less than she wanted to. No one can say she isn't trying.) All of them are tired. Even Bow's seemingly boundless positivity is flagging.
“Haven't you got the message?” Catra growls at the soldier facing her, part of some group of supposedly 'high-ranking' officials from this planet who threw their lot in with the Horde. Their choices remind her a little too much of Shadow Weaver, and she's trying not to think about that. Maybe when they're back home, she should take Perfuma's therapist recommendation, after all. “The Horde is done.”
“True power is never really done,” the soldier responds, aiming a blast at her with one of his four arms whilst swiping at her with another.
Catra dodges both, throws her head back and laughs, ignoring the tiredness and frustration. She needs to get a rise out of him, get him to screw up; needs to be a wall of contempt, not the tired mess she is.
“'True power'? Please. You think Horde Prime ever gave you any real power?” She suppresses a shiver. Her body still wants to respond with fear at the thought of that name.
The soldier roars at her wordlessly. Hitting his ego was even easier than she thought. His next swing is wild, and she ducks under it and rakes her claws across his chest, then follows up with a solid punch to the face, ignoring the pain that blooms across her knuckles. Nothing she isn't used to, and it's worth it when the soldier reels and falls backwards, hitting the ground hard.
She snatches the blaster from his hand and hits him over the head with it, and he's finally still. For a moment, she stands in the triumph, breathing hard, the ache in her body feeling good. Fighting on the right side, hurting for the right side, it all helps. Helps quiet the self-hatred that still rages in her brain. Helps her feel like she might actually be on the way to deserving her second chance.
The triumph only lasts a second, and then a jolt of electricity slams into her back and she crumples to the ground, the world blurring. She struggles, forces herself to turn over, tries to rise. A heavy foot on her chest stops her, and she blinks, tries to clear her vision, the assailant's face a blur of blue skin and furious yellow eyes.
“Get the fuck off of me,” she spits, breathless, determined never to be caught without fight in her. But the electric shock has weakened her limbs, and the weight on her chest is crushing. If the attacker presses her foot down any harder, Catra's ribs will snap. She could really do without that.
“Looks like your friends are all distracted,” the officer sneers. “I'm gonna have fun with this.”
Catra spits another curse at her, lashes out with her claws, slashing a line down her leg. Her assailant yells in pain and steps off Catra's chest, but she slams her other foot into Catra's side, kicking her hard enough that Catra thinks she feels something snap. She's stoic about injuries, always has been, but she's not immune, and she cries out at the agony of it.
“See how you–”
The soldier never gets to finish. A blast of energy hits her squarely in the ribs, and she stumbles back, almost falling.
“Stay away from her.”
Adora's voice is all fury. She steps up to the officer in full She-Ra glory (still Adora, though, always). She's been fighting hard, that much is clear – even in this form, there are beads of sweat running down her arms, and that pristine white outfit is dusty and torn.
If Catra weren't in a lot of pain, she'd probably be worshipping whoever invented muscular women right about now. (Fuck it, even with the pain, she still is. She's not one to be saved, usually, but hey, if she has to be, she's not complaining about how Adora looks when she does it.)
“Or what, She-Ra?” the officer spits, one hand pressed to her side, her weapon still raised defiantly. “You'll negotiate with me? Isn't your whole mission to bring peace?”
Adora laughs. “Peace is the goal, yeah. Sometimes, though, the method is violence. Especially...” She slams one fist into the assailant's arm, and the weapon falls to the ground, the officer clutching her wrist with a scream. “When you hurt people I love.”
Catra forces herself up onto her elbows. Part of her wants to tell Adora to quit being all avenging hero. Another part of her (a part her past self would never have admitted to) finds the avenging hero thing pretty hot.
(Yes, her ribs really hurt. Yes, she's still admiring her girlfriend's muscles. It's a defensible position.)
Not getting the hint, the officer snatches a whip from her belt and lashes out with it, catching Adora across the face. Or, well, trying to. Adora catches the whip in her hand, wraps it tightly around, pulls it sharply out of the other woman's grip, and then lifts her free hand in a blow that sends the officer quite literally flying across the room.
Look, if they're taking votes, Adora's ordinary form is the one Catra loves best. But She-Ra's strength? That's definitely something.
The stubborn officer finally down, Adora drops to her knees beside Catra, concern all over her face. She's sweating a little, other people's blood on her knuckles, the torn section of her costume showing off her abs in a way that makes Catra wish dizzily to make the redesign permanent. Even that perfect golden-blonde ponytail is a little dishevelled. And there's still some fury in her eyes, even alongside the softness of worry. It's a lot. Maybe Catra's just pain-dazed. Or maybe she just really has a thing for when Adora chooses violence.
“Are you okay?” Adora asks. “Hold still, I can...” She rests her hands lightly on Catra's ribs, closes her eyes. A glow of light washes through her, and Catra can feel it in her own veins, rushing through her skin until they both blaze as one. The pain dulls. She can feel her injuries knitting themselves back together.
When the glow fades, Adora flickers back into her normal form and looks down at her, still worried.
“Relax, hero,” Catra says lightly, sarcastically, sitting up. “I'm fine. Nothing I didn't have handled.”
“She had you on the floor,” Adora says, her voice shaking a little. “It just... I know you can handle yourself. I'm not trying to be your saviour or whatever. I just get scared when I see you get hurt.”
“Same here,” Catra says. “Obviously.” She grins, hits Adora lightly in the arm. “And I was kidding. I don't mind you going all hero sometimes, as long as you let me save you too. I mean, find me the woman who's actually opposed to seeing She-Ra go all vengeful muscle goddess and I'll congratulate her.”
“'Vengeful muscle goddess'?” Adora snorts. “That's worse than 'princess.' Also, I think the woman I just threw might have been just a little opposed to it.”
“Shut up, princess,” Catra throws back.
Adora laughs, then pulls Catra into a hug. “I'm glad you're okay.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Catra says, hugging her back anyway. Over Adora's shoulder, she sees one of the few remaining holdouts, seeming to think he can sneak up on them. “Hey, behind you!”
Adora untangles herself from Catra, turns, snatches the whip up from the ground and smartly catches him around the ankle, pulling him off his feet.
“Looks like it's time to choose violence again,” Catra quips.
Adora grins at her. “Guess so. For the honour of Grayskull!”
Catra gets to her feet, ignores the ache in her ribs and the hypocritical lecture on self-care Adora will definitely give her later, and throws herself back into the fight. Into the violence it takes to bring peace, with her girlfriend at her side.
It's complicated, but it's worth it, after all.