Chapter Text
Every day is the same for Catra. There’s no deviations in any way that isn’t painfully predictable. When she goes through the motions of training and classes she does good -she does awesome really- then it comes out that actually Adora -since Shadow Weaver’s made it really obvious she likes her most- is the only one who can do the best. She just brings everyone together. She’s a fantastic leader. She’s so motivated. She’s got that it factor; that special something. Blah, blah, blah . Catra could probably list more if she cared to but she doesn’t have the motivation- Hey! Maybe those assholes are right and Catra really is completely inferior, she can’t even make a list before getting bored.
Nope. Can’t be true. Catra’s just smart enough to know when things don’t actually matter, unlike everyone else in this regime. Which would be way more irritating if Catra didn’t, well, adore Adora so much.
Keeping that in mind Catra had to get away from the overwhelming praise of our Lord and savior Adora somehow or she was gonna explode. It sounds easy right? Just leave the room, just walk away from the group, except no it’s not because everyone seems to be obsessed with Adora. You see, Catra’s sanity sort of depends completely on finding a nice place to curl up in the sun and bask in the warmth and silence of it all.
Sanity is an unacceptable excuse to break rules (and Catra’s checked up on the acceptable reasons, obviously) according to sub-section 9 of the cadet’s code of conduct so, to remain sane, she has to bend a couple rules and sleep in places she probably shouldn’t. So what? It’s never gone wrong before and it was a good -non-destructive, thank you very much, Adora- way to calm down, especially after today's colossal failure.
Good news is Adora got promoted to Force Captain, which is fine by Catra, she’s been overlooked for a position before it doesn’t matter, she’s fucking proud, okay? That’s not the problem and it’s not why Catra’s upset. She’s upset because- because Adora had the gall to say Catra’s disrespectful, like Shadow Weaver had done anything to earn her respect, like Shadow Weaver isn’t a complete and total asshole with ridiculous standards that seem to be set up specifically for Catra to never meet them.
Up on the top of the sun-warmed metal roof Catra’s whiskers twitch when she hears the sound of boots on the walkway below her. Catra forces herself to perk up when Adora makes her way up, voice too loud in Catra’s sensitive ears in an effort to speak over the high winds to suggest a joyride in a skiff to cheer Catra up. Catra’s ears protest, surely Adora will feel the need to shout even more, even though Catra’s perfectly capable of hearing her -she’s told her multiple times- but the pros outweigh the cons, like they always do when it comes to Adora.
In the sky, Catra feels the wind flying through her hair and adrenaline coursing through her veins. It’s that adrenaline that has Catra urging Adora into the Whispering Woods, because she’s never gonna get the chance to see it in all its haunted magical glory, considering she’s not on the frontline and won’t be anytime soon. It only takes a little encouragement to get Adora to go along with it, like always. One thing about Adora that she keeps under wraps is she’s just as much of a rule breaker as Catra.
Catra’s having a great time, she should’ve known from past experience that the other shoe was about to drop. Something has to go wrong or her name’s not Catra No Last Name.
This time in particular is very bad because Catra might actually die. Probably. And its all because Adora doesn’t trust Catra to take the lead, even if it’s just driving a stupid skiff. This time that lack of trust has them ending up nearly crashing and Catra getting clotheslined by a wayward vine that sends her flying off the skiff and down onto the solid forest floor.
With the wind knocked out of her, Catra forces herself to move, her ribs groaning in protest and her neck trobbing. “Adora?!” She shouts, immediately regretting the action- that vine really did a number on her. There's a faint buzz of their skiff that can be heard but no callback. Shaking off a lingering feeling of dizziness Catra stands up and moves to follow the noise of the skiff when something shiny catches her eyes. See, Catra is not a cat, she’s not a housepet or anything similar…
But she does love shiny things.
Smiling she spots the shining object, “Well hello there.”
It’s a sword, permeating with magic. Catra’s almost scared to touch it, she’s well aware of what magic can do after all, but something about it, even if it’s attached to a weapon, feels safe and… warm. Without hesitating, Catra grabs the sword and light takes over, body and soul.
There are flashes of light and people and she can hear her blood pumping in her ears as unfamiliar cries sound all around her; the sound is almost overwhelming. Then there are orders to retake Etheria, promises of retribution. A giant woman wielding the sword. Everything is just so bright, power is surging through her without prejudice, it sends her flying and information flows through her like waves crashing against the shoreline.
“Balance must be restored. Etheria must seek a hero.”
As the power seeps away Catra can hear a baby’s cry distantly and then there's screaming, terrified and desperate- distinctly masculine voice calling, “ C’yra !”
“ C’yra !”
“Catra,” Catra knew that voice, and it wasn’t a vague recollection like the other, it was Adora. Prying her eyes open she tried to look up at the blond who shook her gently, “Catra wake up!” Adora hovers over her cautiously, blue eyes wide with concern, “Are you okay, Catra? You must’ve hit your head pretty hard.” Her hand presses against Catra’s cheek.
Catra feels her breath stutter through her, her eyes feel wet and she blinks rapidly trying to get rid of it. “Well yeah, I mean you sent me flying,” she tried to tease but it falls flat between them.
“You’re the one that nearly crashed the ship,” Adora argued, trying to play along as she helps Catra sit up.
Part of Catra gets offended, wants to argue that if Adora had trusted her for once they would’ve been fine- Catra’s throat wouldn’t be bruised that’s for sure. “Who got choked off by a vine?” Catra retorted instead, because she’s being relaxed. Adora just sighs tiredly and when she’s distracted, Catra’s eyes dart around the forest floor, searching for that damned sword but it’s gone. No trace of it is left and with Adora looking at her expectantly Catra takes a breath and forces a laidback smile, “Let’s leave this one up for debate alright? I trust the skiff isn’t totaled?”
“Of course not.”
“Then let’s head back, okay?”
Begrudgingly Catra does so, she tries to mask the odd feeling forming in the pit of her stomach as a headache and goes to bed as soon as they get back. She can tell Adora doesn’t buy it, if the roles were reversed Catra would be demanding answers as soon as Adora regained consciousness. Once again, she’s thankful for everything that makes Adora, Adora; her fear of being seen as nosy included.
The newly minted Force Captain runs a hand through Catra’s hair reassuringly pushing it back out of her face, “If you’re still feeling bad in the morning I’ll take you to the infirmary myself, okay?”
“Sure Adora,” Catra says with absolutely no intention of going to the infirmary. Snuffling her nose, Catra curls her tail inward and shuts her eyes, falling asleep surprisingly easily, despite the whirlwind of thoughts in her head.
As she sleeps the visions return with greater ferocity, now demanding someone -C’yra- come forth and take her place. To take back the sword and bring peace to Etheria. For some reason, Catra thinks, in some crazy innate part of her mind, that C’yra might be her. She doesn’t know why, but it’s that same soul-deep feeling that wakes her up in the dead of night and sends her toward the skiffs. Moving through the Fright Zone at night is dangerous, especially for people like Catra, who has been on the bad side of practically every official she’s ever met.
No one can hear her, no one can even know she’s gone or she’s dead, Adora included. The blond would just convince her to stay, that there was no sword or that if there was, a Force Captain is much more suited to go after it than some senior cadet. If Catra protested Adora’d probably just report her for breaking curfew. Catra scoffs at that and starts up the skiff, heading off into the night.
Piloting the skiff is easy when there’s no one else around, it’s getting back to that sword that’s the hard part.
When she sees that thrice-damned tree that almost killed them she stops and hops off, deciding to continue on foot. She keeps close to the forest floor in case of predators or worse: other people. Her ears twitch forward, the faint sound of a girl and the warbling of some sort of electronic device momentarily distracting her, “-n, come on! Tell me we're not lost”
“No, this thing is acting up. It's being overloaded by the tech's signal.”
Under her breath, Catra hisses, damn Rebellion. No matter, that sword was hers. Spotting a patch of unnatural light Catra pounced forward, she’d found it. The sword, her sword really. Still, on all fours, Catra cautiously reached out for it with her tail, “Hey, magical sword, I’m Catra.”
“AHH! HORDE SOLDIER!”
“Shush,” Catra ordered dazedly drunk on the feeling of warm, safe, powerful magic. A satisfied purr rumbles through her chest as she reaches out to touch the bright blue gem, “Hello beautiful~”
These magical visions were getting pretty boring. This time around Catra barely flinches as magic, good magic, warm soothing magic, washes over her. She finds herself standing in a room with the blue woman from before, for the first time in a long time Catra’s words catch in her throat. It’s like she can’t speak at all. The woman says, “Hello C’yra.”
“Why do you keep calling me that? I go by Catra, ya know,” Catra inserts trying to keep her nervousness out of her voice.
“It is your name,” the woman says, “My name is Light Hope. I have been waiting a long time for you. I could not reach you until you connected with the sword.”
“Are you sure you’ve got the right person? I mean a name seems like a pretty simple thing to match and-”
“Catra if you insist on using this name I will use it to: this sword is meant for you. Etheria has need of you, Catra . This I am sure of.” Light Hope interrupted, monotone voice more intense than before, “Will you answer its call? Will you fight for the honor of Grayskull?”
“The honor of Grayskull? Is that an Etheria thing? Or a sword thing or-”
Light pours into the room from seemingly nowhere, “One day you will understand,” Light Hope says, her voice more distant than before.
“Hey, she’s awake!”
Damn this boy is loud. And so are his clothes, even if Catra knows the Horde is, like, bad , she’d probably still side with them if it meant never having to see such bright clothing again. The girl, a princess most likely, has bright pink and purple hair that is literally sparkling, honestly, Catra can’t take much more of this.
“Who are you people,” Catra demanded, flexing her wrists to see how tight the constraints were. Loose. Loose enough to get free if it came down to it. Good to know magic doesn’t make everything better, the Rebellion can even tie a proper knot.
The princess puffs out her chest, a poor attempt at intimidation that almost has Catra laughing, “Quiet, Horde spy, I ask the questions. How did you make it this far into the Whispering Woods?”
“I’m not a spy, I just came here for my sword,” Honesty is often the best policy, but really, it’s only when you can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re telling the truth, which is something Catra can’t often do. This time though she’s got a magical connection, the Rebellion knows a ton about magic right? Ergo she can totally prove this sword rightfully belongs to her.
“Your sword,” The princess demands incredulously, clearly not believing it, jeez couldn’t she feel the connection? Or see it? Game recognizes game, magic recognizes magic, right?
Okay, so Catra doesn’t really know that much about how magic works- except it can hurt a lot- but she knows how to argue and how to make a fucking point.
“Yes, my sword,” she says boldly, then demands “Did the blue lady say that you need to fight for the honor of Grayskull?” The princess lets out an incredulous stutter that Catra capitalizes on, “I didn’t think so,” she said, pulling herself up without the use of her hands, “So we’re agreed, that shit’s mine. Hand it over.”
“The Whispering Woods is under the Rebellion's protection, ergo this sword, which was here in the Whispering Woods is Rebellion property not for Horde scum like you,” the princess said edging backward.
Catra laughed mockingly, “Oh, this is adorable, you think that sword is meant for you, don’t you?” Rolling her shoulders Catra geared up for a fight, without the use of her arms it might not go too well but she was willing to roll the dice for that sword. Her sword. “Too bad, it wants me, and I want it, so give it back,” She snapped and took the princess’ delayed reaction as an opening to throw herself forward, hopefully getting the jump on the princess.
Unfortunately for her, the guy threw himself between her and the sword, “Hey easy there, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“She thinks I’m scum, that I'm not fit to wield the Sword of Protection; the sword and I disagree.” Catra said. Looking up at the archer she forced herself to take a less aggressive stance, shoulders settling, tail curling, ears drooping slightly, “Where is the misunderstanding? I mean besides the fact that your princess doesn’t believe me- I didn’t even try to hurt you guys and you tied me up,” she continued sadly- okay maybe that was laying it on a little thick.
The archer relented so maybe it wasn’t overkill, “Uh, maybe there isn’t a misunderstanding, but we can’t just let you have the sword, okay? That’s up to the Queen, so if you come with us, then she can decide if you can have it.”
“Which she won’t,” The princess said childishly.
It’s just a taunt, obviously, she’s trying to rile Catra up and if the growl rumbling low in her chest is any indication, it’s working. On one hand, she should get back to the Fright Zone, the more time spent away, the more trouble she’d be in when she came back, on the other… she felt a connection to that sword. She needed it like a person needed their heart, seeing it so close but just out of reach left her aching. No, she couldn’t leave without it. Even if that meant charming the pants off some royalty to get it.
“Fine let’s go.”
As they walk Catra realizes that while these two are close to her age physically, mentally they might as well be children. They likely don’t have the training Catra does, they certainly lack the capability to navigate their own territory without that malfunctioning device of theirs. A glance at the sky tells Catra they’re headed south rather than east, but she doesn’t speak. She knows she should say something, but they wouldn’t listen, well she wouldn’t listen. Good guys are probably more trusting.
From what she’s learned about people and forging successful (if temporary) alliances, talking is required, but what to discuss? There is the obvious 'let them teach me' idea. She could pretend to think Princesses are evil incarnate when, in reality, she only finds them incredibly annoying (Glimmer has only further confirmed that way of thinking) but that seems too obvious.
Glimmer let’s out a shout of frustration and disappears beyond the treeline. Bad idea, if Catra wanted to escape right now, she could. Of course, Catra doesn’t escape, she stays with the man -boy really- and they catch up with Glimmer who is… sobbing. Gross, but Catra can work with that.
Catra doesn’t get too close to Glimmer, judging by the decimated area and crushed Horde helmets, she’s not gonna want any comfort from a Horde soldier. “Why are you crying?”
“Don't play dumb. I bet you were part of the party that did this.”
Shows how little they know about Horde battalions and requirements of officers. Just how little research do these Rebels do? Even she, a senior cadet, is familiar with the basic interworking of the rebellion society. “I’ve never even been on a mission before,” Catra denied easily, crouching beside the princess, “Besides, it’s not like you lived here, why do you care?” Never do a 180 in your personality, it’s way too obvious and a cheap tactic; even amateurs know that shit.
Predictably Glimmer is incensed, “Because someone did,” She shouts as if it’s obvious, which it totally is, Catra’s not stupid, but for some reason, she thinks Glimmer’s sure she’s an idiot. Ironic, really. “Families were ruined because of the Horde, don't you see that?”
“I’m not the Horde, sparkles,” Catra said, not quite able to keep her annoyance out of her tone, “I’m just a cadet, it’s not like I did it. I haven’t done anything,” the last sentence comes like a confession, a defense. Huh, Catra didn’t plan to actually feel anything about this mess but if genuine emotion is what gets the Rebellion on your side all the better.
“Yeah, well you didn’t stop it,” Glimmer spat bitterly.
“Neither did you,” Catra countered losing control for only a second, her voice comes out loud and angry, a touch too combative; out the corner of her eye she could see the guy edging his way between them and the princess actually flinches, jeez was she really that threatening? Quickly Catra takes a breath, settling herself inwardly, “Now I know the Horde does bad things, I know the whole place is bad, but you’re not gonna stand there and blame me and all the soldiers like me.”
“Why not?”
Catra realized plain facts weren’t going to work to earn this girl’s trust or pity, and most likely wouldn’t work on her mother if they’re anything alike, time to bring out the tragic backstory, “Do you know who your parents are, princess?”
“I- Of course, I know who my parents are, what kind of stupid question is that?”
“I don’t,” Catra replied honestly, tilting her head just so to mimic a cat (everyone loves cats), “Never met them. I’m sure they’re dead, if they’re not they probably think I’m dead.”
“What-”
“The Horde found me- kidnapped me, most of my fellow soldiers got taken as babies and they trained us to fight for them.” She kept eye contact with Glimmer, not letting her look away as she spoke, “I was taken from the remains of a burned down village when I was only a year old, so when I say don’t blame the soldier I mean it you spoiled child ; not all of us have a choice in the matter,” she said roughly, rising up she moves to kick an old Horde helmet out of her path before she stomped away from the ruins.
One. Two. Thre--
“Do- do you really think that’s true? That the Horde… kidnaps children?” Glimmer whispers, the horror in her voice is clear. Bingo. They probably think Catra can’t hear her, hah.
“I wouldn’t put it past them, Glim. But we hafta get back to Bright Moon, and bring her with us, no more fighting okay?” Catra’s beginning to like this guy. Now is time for the return, should she be sad? No, this is a fact Catra has lived with for the better part of her life, sure it upsets her, but she doesn’t spend time crying over it anymore- ever. No, she’ll just-
A thudding noise breaks Catra’s train of thought, a chill running down her spine. Without thinking Catra skitters back to them, with her hands still tied she trips onto Glimmer who looks just as frightened as Catra feels, “Guys, what is that? Friendly or not?” She demands, trying to regain her balance.
Suddenly a large bug like creature is burrowing out of the ground, and the guy is shrieking, “Definitely not!”
Without a second thought, Catra dives for her sword, wielding it with the grace of a much more skilled warrior. The woman, the blue one, said she would fight for the honor of Grayskull if she chose it (like she had any other choice). Touching the blade doesn’t seem to work anymore so obviously she’s got to say something, it’s a mixture of impulse and recall that has her shouting out, “For the honor of Grayskull!”
A blinding light surrounds her and suddenly the power that had washed over her is inside of her. She’s growing, morphing- the rope binding snaps like a worn rubber band and suddenly she is… well she isn’t. Catra isn’t in control of her body, she’s an outsider looking in. She-Ra plants her feet, flipping the sword in her hand; she calls out, “Face me, animite!” Catra has no idea what that is, but that’s her voice saying it.
If you’re paying attention then you’ll realize Catra, minus the whole being disembodied thing, is doing pretty damn good at this point -fantastic, amazing even- and if you’ve realized that then you know what has to happen next.
“Put that sword down,” Glimmer shouts, making a grab for the sword. She-Ra shook her head trying to dodge the teleporting princess and fight off the giant bug at the same time. It’s a whole recipe for disaster that has She-Ra backpedaling through an unfamiliar forest swinging her sword at the beast.
She-Ra ends up stuck between the princess and the beast when Glimmer finally gets a hand on the sword wrenching it away fiercely. Her eyes glowing with anger, Glimmer shouts, “I don’t know how you did that, but-”
“Move, you idiot!” Catra orders shoving the infuriating princess away from the beast toward an ancient looking temple of some sort. She feels a mixture of anger and straight up thankfulness because now she knows that the feeling of complete lack of control -the feeling of She-Ra overtaking her body in every sense- is only temporary.
That’s how the three of them end up stuck between a solid stone wall and a buggy beast, “Nice going sparkle face,” Catra says, voice wavering in fear of the giant ass bug hell-bent on killing them.
“You’re the one that used a sword you have no business even looking at!” Glimmer shouts heatedly, sword clutched in her hands.
“It’s mine!” Catra screeches defensively.
“Would you both just knock it off! We’re about to get eaten and I don’t want the last thing I hear to be you two arguing!” The guy shouts, Glimmer gasps, unfairly offended if you ask Catra.
The thought of actually dying with these two, without Adora, all because of an impulse strikes her to her core. It sets her in motion looking for an entrance of some kind. Her heart is pounding as she tries to pry between the rocks, studying the strange markings that border the sealed off entrance. “Wait- Guys! I think this is a password.”
“You can read that?” the princess asks loudly.
“What part of, 'the sword chose me' do you not understand, sparkle face?” Catra demands semi-seriously, then shouts, “Eternia!” Half as proof, half so they can get out of there.
“Oh come on!”
“Have you always been able to read First One's writing? Wanna tell us what's going on?”
Catra took a deep breath, “I’m gonna say this one more time, the magic sword chose me-”
“That doesn't explain how you can read a word in a language no one's spoken for a thousand years, and the door just opened into a mysterious ancient ruin,” the princess interrupted heatedly, sick and tired of this ‘the sword chose me’ nonsense.
“And,” Catra emphasized, continuing as if Glimmer hadn’t spoken, “After I touched it, I could read that language. It’s probably the same sort of magic or tech the sword’s made out of.”
Glimmer lets out a groan of frustration and turns away from her, mumbling under her breath, if the situation didn’t seem so dire Catra might’ve laughed at that. Rebels are so easy to tease.
“I’m no expert on First One’s tech but I don’t think it just throws information at you,” the bow-wielding guy says dubiously.
“Well, you’re not an expert, so obviously you’re wrong, alright?”
“Not alright, we need to find out where we are and how you learned the First One’s language,” arrowhead says, then juts his finger at her, “Don’t you dare say magic sword again,” he orders.
Catra’s ears flatten against her head, “Fine.”
“I’m Bow, by the way, I mean it’s a little late for introductions but-”
“Catra,” the soldier replied briskly.
Bow raises an eyebrow at that, clearly looking at Catra’s ears then her tail, “That’s a little on the nose isn’t it?”
“Says the guy whose weapon of choice is a bow and arrow,” Catra grumbled looking over at Glimmer who steadfastly turned away from them both, staring down at the sword.
Bow nods, “You’ve got me there.”
The princess muttered something Catra couldn’t quite hear but the sword rattled loudly in protest, that was enough information for Catra.
“You trying it out for yourself,” she teased, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief that it didn’t work, there was no question who the queen would pick if it came down to a princess or Catra. “Why don’t you hand it over to the proper owner before you hurt yourself,” she purrs, getting up close and personal with the princess.
“Not on your life,” Glimmer spat, face going pink with embarrassment.
Bow pushed himself between the two girls, “Hey, Catra how about you figure out the word for light?”
“I don’t think saying a word makes that thing happen,” Catra said, scratching behind her ear as she looks around the room, not mentioning that she could see just fine in the dim lighting. Perfectly actually. “Eternia was just a password to enter this, um, temple.”
“You just don’t know the First One’s word for light do you?” Glimmer challenged, smiling a little at the implication.
Catra’s eyes flattened back, “Shut up princess.”
Glimmer smirked and cupped her hands together, “Allow me to fix this.”
“Glimmer are you sure about this? I mean we’re pretty far from Bright Moon so you can’t recharge for a while-”
“Wait, you have to recharge your powers? Do all princesses have to do that,” Catra asked, barely containing a giggle.
“Nice going, Bow,” Glimmer said sending the archer a withering glare as flashy pink light filled the cavernous temple.
Ever the peacemaker Bow’s hand comes down on Catra’s shoulder guiding her away from Glimmer, “Hey, I think that’s you,” he says gesturing up to a large stained glass portrait that takes up an entire wall.
“That doesn’t look anything like me,” Catra denied, hating the way her hair was standing on edge. She didn’t like this place at all. It was thrumming with untamed magic.
“I mean the blond-haired, blue-eyed, scary version of you,” Bow continues, obviously not noticing Catra’s inner turmoil.
Catra pushed those feelings down, cocking her head to the side, examining the strange markings that surrounded the stained glass portrait, “Well, it does say She-Ra so-”
“Oh not again,” Glimmer shouts, shielding her eyes from the blinding light.
The light dims seconds later, Catra rubs her eyes furiously trying to make them adjust faster when a familiar voice speaks up, “Greetings, administrator.”
“What is it,” Glimmer asks while Catra resists the urge to rub her eyes in disbelief because it is the woman from her visions. That is Light Hope, there’s no doubt in Catra’s mind about that.
“What is your query?”
“It's some kind of ancient hologram,” Bow mutters, eyes wide in awe.
“What is your query?” The hologram repeats robotically.
“Are you Light Hope,” Catra asked, earning no answer, but a few suspicious glances from her companions.
The hologram speaks after a moment, glitching in and out of existence, “Administrator not detected. Lockdown initiated.”
“She-Ra’s probably an admin,” Catra says confidently, moving to grab the sword, “C’mon just let me ‘for the Honor of Grayskull’ this real quick and-”
“No! You are a Horde soldier, magic sword or not,” Glimmer shouted, pushing the sword behind herself defensively. Normally Catra would be fine with that, she’s just got to wait for the Queen to see that this thing is Catra’s and that’ll be that but now isn’t normal. Right now the temple has begun to crumble around them and the Light Hope lookalike is malfunctioning.
As the temple crumbles around them Catra shouts, “What the hell, princess?! We need She-Ra!”
The princess shook her head and grabbed onto Catra’s forearm roughly, “Hold on!’
“Glimmer, no!” Bow shouted and then Catra is… gone? She’s floating in some kind of magical void for a split second and then they’re all falling- crashing, really onto a grassy hill.
While Catra is trying to pull herself up, a low growl building in her stomach, Bow is already shaking the princess, “Glimmer! Glimmer? Glimmer?”
“Did it work,” she asks dazedly while Catra tries to tame her fluffed up hair. She really hated surprises.
“Yeah, it worked. Barely,” Bow said quietly.
Catra realizes distantly this is probably the last time Glimmer can use that stupid power of her’s for a while, and it’s all because she didn’t trust Catra to do what needed to be done. She’s not the one that gets, like, astral projected out of her body when She-Ra shows up so really what's Glimmer’s problem? “You- You idiot! If you had just let me use my sword then-”
“That sword is the property of the Rebellion-”
“Sure sparkles, sure,” Catra snapped, eyes wild with anger.
The fight seemed to be knocked out of the princess as her shoulders slumped, “C’mon we can hitch a ride back to Bright Moon from Thaymor,” she says quietly.
“Thaymor,” Catra muttered under her breath, that sounded familiar for some reason… oh well, she’d probably remember it later, “Fine,” Catra says loud enough for Glimmer and Bow to hear, crossing her arms stiffly, “But if you need someone to carry you I’m not doing it.” If it meant Catra got that sword she’d carry Glimmer from here to Bright Moon, but it wouldn’t do to tell them that. They already probably had a sense that Catra didn’t just want that sword, that she needed it, and that was bad enough.
“Whatever,” Glimmer said glibly, head hung as she slowly navigated the forest leading the way again. God when Catra got a map of the Whispering Wood she was going to be the official navigator from now on.
Adora wakes up and knows something is wrong. The thing about Catra is she doesn’t do early mornings, she does sneak around but it’s usually late at night rather than early in the mornings. Waking up without Catra at the foot of her bed, then going through her morning routine without the girl half-asleep and leaning against her is odd -and cold- but doable. Sure she’s worried but she can’t exactly do anything yet. Maybe Catra’s more upset than she let on about the whole Force Captain thing, maybe she’s just blowing off steam in one of her hidey-holes, maybe she actually took initiative and went to the infirmary. Adora immediately writes that last one off, Catra has no sense of self-preservation.
It’s not until Shadow Weaver calls Adora to her private chambers that she lets herself get worried.
“It appears Catra has gone missing,” Shadow Weaver informs her bluntly.
Adora’s heart is in her throat, she can’t think about anything except Catra and getting her home, safe, “I need to get a team together, we have to find her-”
“Adora, Catra has obviously left of her own accord-”
“No, no you’re wrong she wouldn’t just- she wouldn’t just leave me,” Adora spat, emboldened by her own insubordination she stepped forward, “You need to track her down, I know you can do it.”
Shadow Weaver balked inwardly, her stance growing stiff, she remained quiet for a moment. Glowing red eyes assessing Adora before she sighed, “Very well, I will locate her but do not be surprised if you don’t like what you see.”
She doesn’t really know how to describe Shadow Weaver’s magic, but Adora watches her intently as she performs what she calls a “basic tracking spell” voice all condescending and put-upon. Adora’s heart stops when an image appears. The image has Catra tied up, being pulled along by a boy and girl, their blindly colorful clothing gives them away as Rebels in an instant. The girl may even be a princess.
They’re heading toward Bright Moon, that much is obvious. What they plan to do with Catra is less so, Adora felt anger well up in her stomach that was quickly replaced with vindication, “I told you, she’s been kidnapped!”
“And it is not your problem,” Shadow Weaver reminded her in a way Adora can only describe as a force trying to mask itself as gentleness.
“They seem to be headed toward Thaymor, my mission is in Thaymor,” Adora began, trying to keep her tone patient and calm, “If she is there then I fail to see a problem with securing her as well as the Rebellion weapons.”
“Very well,” Shadow Weaver said through gritted teeth. Adora knew what the woman must be thinking, probably blaming Catra for her insubordination, but Adora can’t leave her. She can’t abandon Catra; that’s not what good guys do. “Do not let this distract you from your true mission, Force Captain.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With the princess somewhat ahead of them Bow caught Catra, “Hey, can I talk to you for a bit?”
“Sure, arrowhead.”
“Okay, so I know that you really want the sword and all-”
“It’s literally mine,” Catra said, not willing to let anyone forget that.
“Yeah, but you are a Horde soldier, forced into it or not and we can’t just hand over a powerful artifact to you, especially without the queen’s permission.”
“So you’re saying this whole trip is a farce,” Catra retorted heatedly, claws coming out without her consent, “That I’m not gonna get my sword,” she demands hostilely.
Bow looks sheepish, scratching the back of his neck, “Well… maybe if you prove that you won’t use it to destroy all of Etheria,” he suggests, clearly hopeful at the idea.
Well… now's as good a time as any to bring up prophecies about her supposed destiny, “That isn’t the mission I was given.”
“Whoa hold up you were given a mission? From the sword?”
“From Light Hope,” Catra confessed, “She said I’m meant to bring peace to Etheria,” she looks up at Bow, “I know what I have to do, Bow, and I can’t do it without that sword. Without my sword. So I’ll come with you, but don’t expect me to start exchanging pleasantries with your friend.” Bow nods and moves to untie her restraints. “Whoa, what are you doing?”
“Untying you, we can’t have people knowing we’re transporting a prisoner in Thaymor. It’ll attract way too much attention.”
“We need to get her some kind of disguise,” Glimmer says abruptly, they’re the first words she’s spoken in a while, standing on the edge of the village.
Catra flattened her ears, “Of course, if a prisoner would cause controversy a Horde soldier would be even worse, try to find something that doesn’t sparkle.” Scoffing the princess found the nearest stall and purchased what seemed to be the brightest scrap of fabric Catra had ever seen. Dammit. Bow snorted beside her. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking loud enough.”
“Here ya go,” Glimmer says, shoving the offending material into Catra’s hands, it’s powder blue and glittering with sparkles. Catra hates it. “I didn’t bring enough money to get you a whole outfit so a cloak’ll have to do.”
“Fine,” Catra says wrestling into the stupid thing, “If you don’t have enough to get me a whole outfit how are we gonna pay for a ride?”
“The rates are higher right now ‘cause of the festival,” Glimmer explained, gesturing to the village, “The ferry tickets shouldn’t cost too much, especially since I’m their princess.”
“Ah, preferential treatment, I like it.” Catra says sarcastically, “So what’s this festi-val thing? Is it dangerous?”
“You’ve never been to a festival?”
“Horde soldier since birth,” Catra replied mildly.
“Come on Glimmer, the ferry probably won’t leave for hours, why not let her see a little of what she’s been missing,” Bow pleaded, hands clenched together in front of him, “Please?”
“I don’t want to,” Catra hissed.
Glimmer’s mouth twitched, a smile slowly formed and Catra realized her mistake, “Bow, go get the tickets, I’ll escort Catra around the festival.”
“Woohoo!”
“Dammit,” Catra whispered under her breath, watching Bow run off, presumably to get ferry tickets.
The princess’s soft hand immediately reached down to grab Catra’s, “Wow! Your hands are so soft, Catra.”
“It’s the fur,” Catra grumbled, following the princess toward a group of hybrid goat people.
“Greetings travelers, are you enjoying the festival?”
“No,” Catra says glumly.
“Of course!” Glimmer cheered a beat after her.
“Well, storytime starts in twenty minutes if you’re interested,” he says and judging by the smile on Glimmer’s face, Catra’s in for a long day.
There’s face painting booths -no Catra doesn’t participate- story time, a thing called a pinata, foods and a quadruped that Glimmer calls a ‘horse’. Whatever, Catra finally convinces Glimmer after hours of being dragged around to stop and get some actual food, something with protein instead of pure sugar.
“Wow, I haven’t seen one of your kind in some time,” the woman, Jelia, says, as her grandson prepares their order of… something Catra doesn’t recognize, no surprise there.
Ears twitching Catra’s eyes flit around searching for the best route out of here in case it gets messy, “My kind?”
“Magicats of course,” the man says, “Hey, I’m Griff.”
“Catra,” she introduced, her shoulders slumping in relief, “Wait- You’ve… seen other Magicats?”
“Of course, most are underground but I remember a time when they walked freely among us,” Jelia says, getting a far off look in her eyes.
“Grandmama, stop bringing up bad times, I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded of that,” Griff says sending Catra an apologetic smile.
“Uh, Jelia, Catra hasn’t ever, uh, met another Magicat before,” Glimmer explains awkwardly, her grip on Catra’s hand tightening for whatever reason.
“Oh that’s unfortunate isn’t it,” Jelia said, ears slumping, “I would love to help you find them but they are a secretive society, the last one I saw had to be… oh four years ago. Possibly more.” She explained, handing over a brightly colored food item, Glimmer took it with a frown on her face.
“We’ll be on our way now.” Glimmer says moving to drag Catra off, somewhere. She’s really getting sick of being dragged around.
“I hope I haven’t upset you-”
“It’s fine,” Glimmer says, though her tone tells Catra otherwise.
She pulls Catra away from the crowds and, were the princess looking less serious, Catra might be grateful. Right now though, Catra almost wishes she were back in the mix of things because she’s sure she’s about to get another lecture or something.
“I- Look I know you think I’m overly emotional or whatever but,” Glimmer cut herself off with a sigh, “But it’s people like yours, the Magicats, they’re the reason we’re fighting and well… if you really are She-Ra then we need you, okay? Even if I don’t like it, you’re our only hope. You’re your people’s only hope of stepping out from under the Horde’s thumb.”
Catra inwardly sighs, desperation is not a good look on the princess, though it isn’t a good look on anyone really. She knows in her heart the Horde is bad, they’re wrong, they’ve enslaved whole races and taken kingdoms by force in the name of Hordak for seemingly no reason. In her mind, she knows this fight is going to be hard, nearly impossible even with this mystical magic sword by her side but something in her gut tells her she’s gotta help. She has to try, at the very least.
Best keep in character and make a demand or two though, “Fine, but I have one condition.”
“Anything.” Glimmer says thrusting the sword at Catra who takes it greedily.
Catra almost wishes she had something more to ask for, instead she kept her eyes on the shining blade, “When we defeat the Horde, I get Shadow Weaver.”
“I- Okay,” Glimmer agreed cautiously, “Is that all? I mean of course you’re gonna have a place to stay at the palace but I thought-”
“What? That I’d want money? You think too little of me, glitter-face,” Catra’s ears peak at attention, the rumbling sound of an engine, unmistakable, “What was that?”
“Wha-”
“Get down!”
Tackling the princess Catra pressed her ears flat, maneuvering herself to shield them both from the onslaught of horde tanks. The festival that had been in full swing seemed to have vanished in the blink of an eye, Catra pulled Glimmer upright and surveyed the land, “Is there a designated area for attacks? A bunker?”
“This isn’t exactly a rich village, Catra, they can’t afford that kind of thing, and I don’t wanna say this but…” Glimmer stared at the tanks, “They don’t seem to be attacking.”
“Yet,” Catra growled searching for some semblance of cover, the woods seemed like a safe bet, “Get Bow, start corralling everyone beyond the woodline, and get covered.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Either get rid of those assholes or fight them off,” Catra said, brandishing her sword, “For the honor of Grayskull!” A blinding white light surrounded her and a giant woman with golden fur and sapphire blue eyes dressed in white replaced her.
“Oh thank the First Ones,” Glimmer whispered when the words worked, that sword was so temperamental.
There really isn’t an explanation for this, but as She-Ra she feels almost detached from the situation. When She-Ra sees a Force Captain, she recognizes her in a distant way, she isn’t as overcome by affection as Catra would be. Instead she stands tall and speaks clearly, “Horde soldier, what business do you have here?”
“I- That’s none of your business,” Adora snapped, looking almost unaffected -her trembling hands gave her away- “Get back or I’ll have to use force.”
“Tell me what these citizens have done to earn your ire, Captain,” She-Ra said, voice dripping with disdain. “Or I will use force against you and your battalion.”
“Weapons,” Adora blurted, seemingly compelled by She-Ra’s command, “There is a stockade of Rebellion weapons among these insurgents.”
She-Ra scoffed looking around with open confusion, “I see no weapons save for yours and my own,” Adora’s face faltered, “I think you have some questioning to do, Captain, till then I request your leave.” Adora remains quiet, and if She-Ra knows Adora, and she does, the blond is questioning so many things in that little head of hers. So many truths she thought completely absolute until one tiny question was posed. That was the difference between her and Catra, Catra had never trusted the Horde, had never thought of anything as absolute.
“You can’t seriously be considering this, Adora- I mean captain.”
“Shut it, cadet!” Adora ordered roughly then looked up at the warrior, “Where is the princess?”
“Excuse me?”
“The princess who kidnapped a Horde soldier named Catra,” Adora practically shouted, “She was supposed to be here, they’re both supposed to be here.”
“I suppose the tanks scared them off,” She-Ra sneered.
“Are you sure,” Adora demanded, “She’s a magicat with brown fur, heterochromatic eyes you’d know her if you saw her.”
“The only people here are me and a bunch of satyrs running for their lives, Captain, I suggest you check what you came to check and leave. Peacefully.”
Lonnie’s eyes softened, and her hand came up to touch Adora’s shoulder, “Captain… I’m sure we’ll find her sooner or later but we’ve still got the mission-”
“For what? This is a civilian town! This whole assignment is some sort of farce,” Adora shouted, “Set your guns to stun and search, if I hear one of these people get so much as a papercut I’ll have you cleaning the latrines with a toothbrush, do you hear me?!”
“Yes, Force Captain,” is barked back loudly and something in She-Ra’s stomach settles. Adora is still the bleeding heart Catra’s always known, she’d never hurt someone she didn’t think deserved it, and luckily the people of Thaymor don’t fall under that list.
The Force Captain looks up at She-Ra her eyes steely, “Stay away from my people and I will promise you the same… What is your name?”
“You may call me She-Ra,” She-Ra says haughtily, “I have been called upon to bring peace to all of Etheria.”
“And yet you work against the Horde?”
She-Ra’s face remains impassive, watching Horde soldiers poke through people’s homes and businesses, quashing the anger she feels she says simply, “I do.”
“Then I suppose the next time we meet will be less fortuitous for you.”
The smile that forms on She-Ra’s face is a touch cruel, silly Adora always thinking so highly of herself and of her precious Horde, “I hope you find your friend, Force Captain. Hopefully, in doing so you don’t ensure her a less fortuitous fate.”
“I- If you touch her-”
“It is not me you should worry about,” She-Ra interrupted, “After all, I am not the one sullying her magic with darkness, I am not the one who tortures your dear friend.”
“You-”
“Force Captain, ma’am.”
Adora startles but straightens up, facing the cadet She-Ra doesn’t recognize, “Report, cadet.”
“No weapons above or underground, ma’am!”
She-Ra laughs swinging her sword over her shoulder, “Well then, I guess you have no reason to stay, farewell Force Captain.”
“Farewell, She-Ra,” Adora says, discontent clouding her eyes.
She-Ra tears her eyes away, stalking away from the Horde ships sword held out, a show of strength, no doubt. Adora watches her go for a seemingly endless moment then sighed, wishing Catra was here. Hopefully the magicat can hold out a little longer, and hopefully, the princess that has her isn’t too powerful or sadistic.
“I can’t believe you just ordered them back! I mean sure you’re a giant but they just- they listened to you!” Glimmer squeaks excitedly.
Catra grinned, “I know right?! I think it was ‘cause I was like ten feet tall but who knows? Maybe it’s one of She-Ra’s capabilities, but I am extremely charismatic.”
“Excuse me!” Turning Catra finds almost the whole town standing behind them, Ms. Jelia stands at the forefront, “Do you believe it is safe for us to return to our village?”
“I- Yes. The Horde has retreated,” Catra said only to find herself catching Ms. Jelia tackled, her arms coming around Catra’s waist tightly.
Ms. Jelia doesn’t even seem surprised, “Thank you, Catra.”
“N-no problem,”
“We must repay you,” a man says, “Anything you wish just ask.”
“Well… I could use some clothes?”
“Catra,” Glimmer says lowly, as if that was some extreme request.
“What?” Catra asks with a shrug, “If I’m not in the Horde I probably shouldn’t wear Horde regalia.”
“Please, princess, we are happy to oblige,” Ms. Jelia says tugging Catra back toward the village.
The lady wasn’t lying, as soon as they’re back people are asking what her favorite colors are and what clothing would she prefer. Eventually, she’s outfitted with a pair of well-fitting khaki trousers and a thin maroon top and a pair of something called ‘suspenders’ if the boy who had helped her put them on is to be trusted.
Just when she thinks she’s ready to go, fully dressed suspenders and all, another older woman, Meera, wraps a vibrant green cloak around her shoulders. It’s thick and doesn’t sparkle one bit, “One of your kind made this. It’s better in your hands.” She says softly, warmly like Catra is going to care for this thing like it’s her first born or something.
In the back of her mind, Catra figures that might just be true. It’s so comfortable and smells of wildflowers.
“A Magicat?” Catra can’t help but ask, feeling awkward in the silence, with Meera looking at her with stars in her eyes, as if Catra’s done so much when really she’s done so little.
“Of course, a very talented young man,” Meera murmurs flicking the clasp closed fixing the cloak, Meera grasps Catra’s shoulders softly, “Good luck on your travels, Catra.”
“Thank you.”
Before Catra can do something stupid like cry or hug this woman Glimmer comes up beside her, “Our ferry is leaving soon so if you’re ready to leave your adoring public…”
“Someone’s jealous,” Catra teased following the Princess toward the docks.