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The end of the world, and the Horde, wasn't quite what Lonnie thought it would be. Yeah, there was a battle, like Hordak and Shadow Weaver and the force captains had always said. Yeah, the princesses used their weird magic in the battle. Yeah, a lot of people died, on both sides. Hordak had never said anything about the weird-ass Horde Prime Big Boss, who even the princesses were afraid of. And no one had ever mentioned clones. Or mind-control. Or whatever the hell was going on with all the plants and rainbows. Growing up in the Fright Zone had sheltered -- and protected -- her and everyone else from a lot of weird crap. But that didn't mean they were idiots, or naive. Lonnie was proud of how she could keep her head down, when she needed, or how she knew when to stick her neck out. She and her boys, Rogelio and Kyle both, had survived all the end of the world shit. They survived. And the Fright Zone and that whole reign of terror was done. And now, they were sitting around a fire, refugees in this weird new world, and just... watching. Waiting to see what happened yet.
What Lonnie hadn't expected was the idea of marriage to come up.
They didn’t have a word for marriage in the Horde. That didn’t mean they didn’t know what commitment and bonds were. As much as Hordak and Shadow Weaver had tried to keep certain words and concepts out of the Fright Zone, both of them forgot that the Fright Zone didn’t exist in its own dimension. Ideas were still going to sneak in, even if the actual words didn’t.
So Lonnie and the others had grown up with blood oaths. No one officially mentioned them to anyone actually in charge, especially since attachments weren’t exactly encouraged, but everyone knew about them. Kind of like how the idea of parents and family weren’t actually included in Horde training, but kids still remembered parents they thought they’d had. Or, like Scorpia, they actually told the fuzzy stories they thought they remembered.
Blood oaths still meant the same thing though. It wouldn’t necessarily guarantee that people were in the same squad, or would share a room, but at least no one blinked an eye if they ended up in the same barracks. Everyone knew that those two -- or three or four -- people were responsible for each other, whether they were sick or injured, and that those people would watch out for each other in the field, on missions, and in training. Some people swore blood oaths when they were officially assigned to a squad, after surviving their cadet training. Some swore blood oaths once they hit puberty and were officially recognized as ‘adults’ by the Horde.
And then there was Catra and Adora.
There were no specific rules for blood oaths, and definitely no ceremony that involved flowers and celebrations and whatever 'parties' were, but everyone knew that, in order for it to be unofficially recognized and officially ignored, the people involved had to tell their Force Captain, or their cadet leader. Apparently, a long time ago, actual blood was exchanged, but since the Horde was big on hygiene and keeping things uninfected, deliberately wounding yourself to mix blood with your partner was highly frowned upon. Officially and unofficially. Sometimes the people involved wrote an official oath, but usually, something simple about these people willingly swearing blood oaths to each other, now and forever, were written down on pieces of paper and kept in someone’s locker. The superior officer took note of it, and everyone looked the other way when they started sharing a bunk. That was usually the first sign of the change in status: the bunk sharing. Sometimes it was for sex -- but never sex when anyone was actually in the barracks -- but sometimes blood oaths and sharing bunks was just for comfort. Everyone knew that Rogelio wanted to ask Kyle to swear an oath with him, and that Kyle didn’t believe the rumors because no one ever actually told him the truth anyway. Everyone knew that Scorpia desperately wanted to swear a blood oath with someone, but Lonnie was the first to admit that Scorpia was just way more than any sane person could handle.
And then there were Catra and Adora.
As far as anyone with half a brain, those two had been blood oathed since they were small, and Adora basically named Catra. Rumor has it, they actually exchanged blood after Catra fought Octavia that one time, when they were all kids. And Lonnie believed it, of course, because if anyone was gonna be extra, it was Catra and Adora. They were Catraandadora. Catradora. One couldn’t exist without the other, so of course they were basically Horde-married and counted as one person by the time they were cadets.
Until.
Lonnie remembered the rumors: that Adora had been kidnapped by princesses. That Adora had been kicked out of the Horde because she was secretly a princess plant, and sleeper agent. That Catra and Adora had finally had some kind of weird falling out, and Adora had left, finally sick of Catra’s bullshit. No one knew which of those were true, since, if you asked Catra, you’d probably end up with one less eye. Ask Octavia.
Blood oaths could be broken, but that usually involved someone’s death. People didn’t live to old age, or even middle age, in the Horde. Most of the Force Captains were pretty young just because they needed to be replaced a lot. Everyone knew that Adora was tapped for force captain, but as soon as she got her official badge from Shadow Weaver, she left. And left Catra behind.
Somehow, pretty much everyone survived the path of destruction that that resulted in. Somehow. The new Catra, the scorned Catra, took out anything and everything on those around her. The only reason Lonnie didn’t outright rip Catra a new one was because she remembered that Catra was the first time a blood oath had been broken, while everyone was still alive. Sure, they all heard, day in and day out, about how broken and unwanted Catra was from Shadow Weaver, who looked at Catra as little more than an animal. But that didn’t mean that no one had sympathy for her. Adora had been Catra’s whole world. And after that world was gone, Catra still made everything about Adora.
Getting back at Adora.
Then Horde Prime invaded, and everyone was chipped or kidnapped or worse. Then apparently Catra and Adora, now reunited and properly Catradora again, shot rainbows out of their asses and saved the world with their new princessy love or some bullshit. Lonnie’d been too preoccupied with keeping Rogelio, Kyle, and the Imp alive, so she still wasn’t too clear on the details. What she did know, though, was that the princesses apparently had no idea loyalty and love could actually exist in the Fright Zone. Even with the best proof sitting right under their noses.
Like, seriously. How did no one see it?
The day after rainbows attacked the planet and made the end of the world even more blindingly beautiful, the princesses did their best to round up any scattered Horde survivors along with the others. Lonnie hadn’t been too sure at first, but seeing Scorpia and her big grin at least reassured her a little. As clueless as Scorpia could be sometimes, no one could fake her heart. And her genuine emotions. They’d all been rounded up, fed, and handed better supplies than the ones they’d escaped with. They were offered places at fires with the other refugees, no one batting an eye at the badges that they still wore on their tattered uniforms. Everyone was a victim now, no matter what side they’d stood on just weeks before.
While both Catra and Adora had caught her eye and given her the nod, as if content to know she existed, neither had invited her or her boys to sit with them at their cozy princess fire. And, honestly, she was okay with that. She still wasn’t sure she knew what to do with Princess Adora and Not Quite As Crazy Catra. They weren’t friends anymore. They were still family, since they’d grown up together, so knowing that the others were alive seemed like enough.
Lonnie’d kept half an ear on whatever conversation was happening at the princess fire, and half an ear on whatever Kyle and Rogelio were going back and forth about. She knew it wasn’t too important, since they were all safe, fed, warm, and together. She’d actually been drowsing against Rogelio’s leathery shoulder when she heard Queen Sparkly One squawk something about marriage at Catra and Adora “...now that you’re in lo-ove,” her singsong voice teased.
Even if she didn’t actually open her eyes, Lonnie at least focused all her attention on whatever was going on at the princess fire. The whole cavern became oddly silent, as if everyone there -- who had all seen Catra and Adora sucking face, on numerous occasions just that day -- was wondering the same thing.
“You know what marriage is, right?” Queen Sparkly One’s boyfriend asked. “Right?”
The silence actually got louder.
“Of course they do!” Scorpia piped up in that happy, excited voice of hers. “They’ve been married for years. When did you guys swear your oath? You were kids, weren’t you?”
Now Lonnie actually opened her eyes, not even hiding the fact that she was interested in whatever happened next. She always wondered how Adora had explained her relationship to Catra to her new princess friends.
“You WHAT?” Lonnie hadn’t realized Queen Sparkle’s indignation could get that loud or that high-pitched.
Adora, dumb as ever and blushing red as ever, dropped her eyes and muttered something that no one could hear. Catra, on the other hand, grinned as wide as she ever did, leaned even more into Adora’s personal space, and purred, “You didn’t mention me, sweetheart? Aw, am I your dirty little secret!”
This time, Adora squawked something about not being ashamed of Catra, and it was complicated, and opposing sides, and…
Lonnie couldn’t help laughing. She laughed from her belly. She laughed from the depth of her soul. She laughed so hard that her sides hurt, and she thought she was going to die from it. She laughed more than she had since that weird fake universe a few years back, with the portal.
She laughed, because the two idiots that she’d grown up with were back together, and they were still the same idiots whose love burned so brightly that it blinded people.
“You couldn’t look at them and see it?” Lonnie asked, wiping her eyes. She pitched her voice loud enough to be heard at the princess' fire. A proper Force Captain's voice. “They were pretty much married before we could all talk. They legally swore the oath when we were teenagers.”
“Only because you dared us,” Catra snarked back, sticking her tongue out at Lonnie.
“Only because it was the easiest way to get the two of you to shut up about each other. Stars, were we fourteen?”
“Children can’t get married,” Queen Sparkles broke in, her arms crossed, clearly displeased that she hadn’t known something. “And I doubt it actually counted.”
Lonnie huffed a laugh, sharing a sympathetic look with Catra. She untangled herself from Rogelio, hauled her body up, and stalked toward the princess fire. In the same way she'd once focused her indignation at Catra, she channeled all that frustration on Queen Sparkles now. “You dismissing our traditions because they’re not your own? You doubting our beliefs because we’re pathetic Horde soldiers who know nothing about the wonderful outside world?”
“No, I-- I’m not!” Queen Sparkles actually shrank back a little, then turned frantically toward Catra and Adora. “Catra! Tell her I’m not! Catra!”
“Not what, married?” Catra purred in that annoyingly fake-sweet voice of hers. “Oh, Sparkles, I have no idea what you mean.”
Apparently the joke had gone too far, though. “I’m not dismissing anything you went through or any of that! I respect whatever you made out of the crap you dealt with as kids. It’s not-- It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Queen Sparkles finally got out. She turned to Adora, all big eyes and hurt. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Now all the focus shifted back to Adora, the meek and clueless girl gone. When she looked back at Queen Sparkles, she was the capable, calm Force Captain candidate that Lonnie had grown up with. She was the one who’d stood up for Catra so easily and fiercely every day of their lives. She was the one that Catra had sworn her blood oath with, with the paper to prove it. If the paper still existed.
“There’s a ton of reasons, and I don’t know where to start,” Adora said, her voice quiet, but clear to everyone.
She turned her face to Catra, who was burrowing down in Adora’s neck again. They’d never been that demonstrative once they grew up, but as kids, they’d spent most of their time in each other’s space. It got to the point that Shadow Weaver actually had to beat that habit out of Catra, as punishment for Adora.
“I didn’t even know it was the same thing at first,” Adora continued, her eyes on Catra. “Not til Spinnerella and Netossa explained it. I didn’t know ‘wife’ meant the same as our blood oath. I didn’t know what I’d left behind. Not until Thaymor.”
Lonnie hadn’t been at Thaymor, but she’d heard the rumors: Catra and Adora facing off, yelling like they’d never yelled, even in their fights growing up. Catra coming back without Adora, looking like she wanted to burn the world down.
Lonnie could see Catra’s fingers creeping up the side of Adora’s neck until they twined themselves in Adora’s hair, Catra tugging until Adora’s forehead rested against hers, and their whole worlds were only each other.
“And then, we were on two different sides. What was I going to say? ‘By the way, Rebellion, I have a wife! She’s in the Horde, and she’s trying to destroy us, but it’s okay! I can win her over to our side!” Adora’s eyes closed, her breathing became ragged -- two clear signs that Lonnie remembered meant Adora was trying not to cry.
“It wasn’t okay,” Aodra continued. “And I failed every time. Every day, I got up and I broke the only sacred oath that we swore in the Fright Zone. I left my wife behind.”
Adora opened her eyes, shining bright in the firelight, and she looked up from Catra to Queen Sparkles. “Maybe I didn’t know how much of it was that forever love that you and Bow always talked about, but I knew how much our oath meant, and how much I’d betrayed the other half of my life. And that was something I couldn’t talk about.” She laughed a little, though it sounded pained. “So yeah, Glimmer. This is Catra. My partner. My other half. The woman I love. My wife. I guess we can do the whole Etherian marriage thing, if that’s what you want us to do. But as far as I’m concerned, she’s been my wife since we were kids, and for the first time in a long time, I can finally honor that oath we swore.”
Bow looked like he was going to open his mouth, his eyes shining as much as Adora’s, but Catra beat him to it.
“Arrow, if you say that word, I swear that I will slit your throat in your sleep.” Except this time, she was all but in Adora’s lap, curled into her other half as if they only had one body. This was soft Catra, the one that usually only existed at the foot of Adora’s bunk as they all slept.
Bow choked, but didn’t say whatever they all thought he was going to. He did seem to look like there was a little more respect for Catra, though. “A lot makes sense now,” he said finally, filling in for Queen Sparkles, who was obviously still trying to wrap her brain around something. Anything.
“I should be mad at you,” Queen Sparkles finally muttered, resent clear in her voice. “But I get it.” She shook her head, her eyes all shiny now too. “Best friend squad always forgives, even former Horde Scum.”
And then there was enough hugging to even embarrass Kyle, so Lonnie turned her attention back to her two. Her family. The ones she wouldn’t mind swearing an oath with.
“What do you think of marriage?” Rogelio rumbled at her when she wandered back to them, nosing her hair as she settled between him and Kyle again.
She grinned up at him. “You askin’ me or something? Does that mean I have to deal with Kyle too?” Because everyone knew that Rogelio had been dying to ask Kyle to swear a bond for years. Everyone, of course, except Kyle.
Lonnie turned back to the princess fire. “Hey, Queen Bright Moon! Is there a limit on this whole marriage thing? Can you marry more than one person?”
Queen Glimmer looked surprised. “Of course. As long as everyone’s okay with it, and it’s fair to everyone involved.”
Lonnie looked back at her boys, the ones she’d be willing to swear an oath with.
“In sickness and in death?” she asked, reaching out for their hands.
And they both nodded.