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One
Glimmer insists that she and Adora get ready together and separate from Bow and Catra, which makes Adora particularly mopey today.
Since the end of the war, there are seldom times when she doesn't see Catra throughout the day. At times, it's as simple as passing by Catra's office and giving her a soft kiss before turning back around and going to the next thing.
There’s been no time for that kind of check in today. They shared breakfast together before they were both hauled to separate corners of the castle to get ready. Well, it wasn’t exactly against their will—they agreed to it after all. Adora just agreed to it weeks before she had to commit to it.
She thinks she’s been a pretty good sport about it all, but as the day wears on, her anxiety spikes. "What if Catra needs me?" she finally asks, glancing over at Glimmer.
The Queen is brushing her purple hair, eyes darting over for a moment to take in Adora’s clenched hands before steading again on her third attempt at an updo. "I'm sure if there was some cataclysmic event where Catra needed you, we would know by now."
Adora bites her lip. Sometimes she and Catra need each other in the quiet too—a look of understanding that flies over everyone's head when they're something only they related to as Horde kids or a soft squeeze of a hand in reassurance under the table. She doesn't think Glimmer will be persuaded by that.
She sighs, holding Adora’s stare through the mirror before turning around. "Look, if you really can't keep it together, we can go see her." Glimmer huffs out, surprising Adora. "But I thought this would be a fun surprise for all of us. Aren't you curious what she'll be wearing?" Glimmer makes a pleading face, her hands clenched together.
About a dozen butterflies erupt in Adora's gut at just the thought. She’s seen Catra wear a few more formal outfits for some smaller events, but not for a ball a like this. "I—yeah." She breathes out. "I guess—if I've made it this far, I can make it one more hour."
"That's the spirit!" Glimmer brightens, a smile overtaking her face. "It'll be worth it! Agh, I'm so excited to see what Bow came up with." She lets out a dreamy sigh. "And we get to be dates this time."
That makes Adora frown—she hadn’t thought about dates . "I—should I have asked Catra beforehand?" Adora feels stupid for not having thought of it sooner. She assumed they’d go together because they’re dating but what if Catra wants her to ask?
Glimmer tosses her a sidelong glance. "I mean, it's not like she’s is going with anyone else, right?"
"But I want her to know she's wanted." She never wants Catra to feel unwanted by her, not if she can help it. Not anymore.
"Oh, that's so disgusting and gooey. You're so cute." Glimmer looks out the balcony. "What if we have a guard send a letter and you can pick out some flowers from the royal garden? And ask her now?" Her voice pitches up with excitement as she poses the questions.
"Yeah." She already starts rummaging Glimmer's desk for paper, excitement brewing under her skin. “That’s a good idea.”
She sticks out her tongue from the side of her mouth as she thinks of what to write. It only takes her a few moments before the words flow and then she carefully tucks away the piece of paper in an envelope. She makes sure to write her name large in block letters at the front of the envelope, lest the letter be confused with a Queen’s letter given the stationery.
“Make sure no one sees you in your dress!” She calls out.
Adora smiles, tugging on the tendril of power she can feel in her chest until she transforms, no longer wearing her cocktail dress and instead in her tale-tell She-ra outfit.
Glimmer groans, eyes wide as she takes in Adora’s altered form. “When you go back, you’ll be all done up again right? I only need to finish your hair.”
Adora shrugs, now towering over Glimmer. “It should be.” She honestly hadn’t thought too long about it.
“It better , Adora.” There’s some implied threat there, or maybe an explicit one from the way she’s shaking her fist. “Go get a flower and get back here.”
Adora doesn’t need to be told twice. It’s quick work to make it down one floor and out to the garden. She looks around, and Adora realizes she’s never been in the garden as She-ra. It looks different from this high up. She can see over the top of all the plants, even the hedges that separate different areas.
It only takes looking past three different flowers for Adora to realize that she doesn’t know all that much about them. Maybe it’s something she should know now? During the war, there was never time for things like this and after, well—try as she might, the garden reminds her of Shadow Weaver.
She shakes the thought away and tries to focus on the different plants. Her eyes catch on a specific one—it’s almost bell shaped and a blinding white, a color she doesn’t think she’s ever seen on a flower before. The center is almost scarlet, a vibrant red that creates a shocking contrast with the white.
Adora touches one of the petals and hums at the texture. It’s almost velvet, a soft fuzz on the petals making her run her finger over it again. She decides this flower—beautiful, unexpected, and slightly rough around the edges—will do just as well as any other. She’s careful as she pulls its stem, leaving the other flowers surrounding it untouched.
She smiles to herself as she walks quickly out of the garden and finds a guard near Glimmer’s room. She holds out the letter and the flower. “Do you think you can deliver this to Catra? I’m not quite sure where she is right now.”
The guard nods and plucks both items from Adora’s hands. “Of course, She-ra.”
“Make sure she knows it’s from me.” She tacks on.
The guard’s lips twitch into a smile. “I think she’ll know.”
Adora feels her cheeks warm, and her hand runs over the nape of her neck nervously. She’s aware that the public knows she and Catra are in love, but she’s never prepared to see evidence of that knowledge. She opens the door to Glimmer’s room before she lets go of the thread of magic connecting to her core dropping in height and losing her hold on She-ra all together.
Glimmer stares at her with wide eyes before breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank the stars everything is still in place. Which flower did you pick?”
Adora shrugs. “One I thought was pretty.”
Glimmer shakes her head with a smile. “Good enough reason, I guess.” She presses her hand to the chair in front of her, directly in front of her vanity. “Now—hair. We don’t have all that much time left. Do you want it down or up?”
This is the question Adora had been dreading. “Up.” She blurts out—much to Glimmer’s consternation, if the look she gives Adora is any indication. “I just—I’d prefer it up, if that’s okay.”
Glimmer softens, giving her a nod. “How about a braid? It’ll keep it up and it’s different.” She looks at Adora hopefully.
She nods, a little unsure. “Can’t hurt to try.”
“Exactly! If you don’t like it, we’ll do your ponytail and it won’t be a big deal.” Adora’s lips turn into a grimace. Isn’t this supposed to be a big deal? They’re celebrating the end of the war—everything is finally settled enough that they can rejoice in peace. She should be more adventurous, she should—she feels Glimmer’s hand on her shoulder. “Hey—whatever you want, alright? It’s our day. We all earned this.” Her voice is fierce and quiet.
Adora catches Glimmer’s gaze in the mirror, and she smiles at her friend. “You’re right. We did earn this.” She clears her throat, sitting up straight. “Let’s try the braid.”
Glimmer lets out a soft squeal and starts parting sections of Adora’s hair. “Let me know if there’s too much pressure.” Her hands run over the sections. “Although given how tight your ponytails usually are, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.”
Adora rolls her eyes and laughs. “Yeah, yeah.”
Her eyelids flutter closed as Glimmer slowly threads the sections of hair together. She’s right in that it doesn’t feel nearly as tight as her typical ponytail—if anything she’d probably like for it to feel a little more secure—but it’s not enough of a bother for her to ask.
“You can open your eyes—I’m done.”
She feels a moment of nerves before she wrenches her eyes open. When she does, her first thought is that it doesn’t look all that different from when she has her hair up. She turns her head and looks at the braid that runs down her back. It’s thick and Glimmer has put a few rings around the middle sections, making it flutter out and then narrow a few times. She likes it.
“It looks good.” She lets her fingers trail over the braid, careful not to undo Glimmer’s work.
She makes a soft noise in the back of her throat. “But do you like it?”
“I—I think so.” It looks like her and it feels right, even if it’s different.
“Okay, good.” Glimmer claps her hands, bobbing up and down. “I’m so excited.”
“When are Bow and—” She hears a loud thudding knock at the door and Glimmer squeals with excitement. “Is that them?”
“It should be.”
Glimmer wastes no time in getting the door and she’s immediately swept up in Bow. Adora’s eyes try to dart past her friends, looking for something else entirely.
Her mouth runs dry the moment she sees Catra and her feet carry her to her girlfriend without much of her own say so. "You look gorgeous." She breathes out.
Gorgeous is really a disservice. She's wearing a crisp white shirt, a black vest on top, with black pants matching the vest. But what Adora can't take her eyes off is the cape. It's a rich red, with a gold clasp clipping it around Catra's neck. The clasp is intricate, small golden chains dangling in loose semicircles down to Catra's collarbones.
Catra fidgets, the cape swishing behind her when her tail bumps into it. "Too much?"
"Never too much." Adora promises. She takes another step forward until she can press her forehead to Catra's. "It’s—wow.”
Her lips twitch into a smile. “Don’t ruin it.”
For a ridiculous second, nerves pit in her stomach as she thinks about whether Catra will be her date or not. “Do you have an answer to my question?” She prompts softly
Catra lets out a soft laugh, her eyes tender. “You mean the art you sent me? I was too busy looking at it to think of an answer for your question.”
Adora grins, satisfaction filling her, warming her to her toes. She tried her best to draw a doodle similar to the one they’d had in their bunk. She isn’t the artist that Catra is, but she knows that little drawing by heart. She’s glad that Catra seems to like it.
“Well, do you have an answer now?”
“I don’t know, I was waiting to see if some other blonde wanted to take me. I guess you’ll do.”
“Hey!”
Catra lets out a cackle and bumps her shoulder into Adora’s. “Of course I’m going with you. I always was, silly.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “I did like the note. And the flower.” She adds softly.
Adora feels heat in her cheeks as she tries to bite down her smile. “Uh, good. Because I only want to go with you.” She takes another step closer. “Now, let me appreciate you.”
Because it’s Catra, she sticks her tongue out at Adora and crosses her eyes. Adora rolls her eyes and puts her hands on Catra’s shoulders, stilling her. She lets her hand trace over the fine chains that drape over Catra’s collarbones. Her eyes are drawn to an impossible spot—an empty space on Catra’s shirt, where there’s only fabric.
Only, in Adora’s vision, the one she had when she thought she was dying at the Heart, that same spot held Adora’s Bright Moon pin. She still doesn’t quite know what it means to exchange 
The brilliance of her joy dims the uncertainty that drips beneath—the errant thought that no matter what it might mean for Adora to give Catra her Bright Moon pin, she’ll hardly be deserving of it.
She feels a soft hand on her own shoulder, and she looks up to find a curious gaze. “Ready to go, princess?”
Adora smiles and nods, tamping down the funny feeling she gets when she thinks too much about how lucky she is to be alive and for the war to be over. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Two
Adora doesn’t feel intimidated exactly, but it’s the closest feeling she can point to. Which makes no sense. There’s no danger afoot and she’s in what should be a relaxing place. She looks down at the blades of grass surrounding her.
"I can do this." She whispers to herself, nodding. She's She-ra, she saved the universe and restored Etheria—with a kiss, but still!
"Hi, Adora!" Perfuma startles Adora with her greeting and she jumps a foot in the air.
The other princess lets out a quiet giggle as Adora gets her bearings. She puts out a downy mat onto the ground and sits on it. She stares at Adora sitting in the dirt. “Do you want one?” She gestures to another mat toward the corner of the room, one Adora hadn’t noticed.
A rock digs into the back of Adora’s thigh. “No, thanks.” She smiles tightly, trying to copy the way Perfuma sits. "Okay, so where's your plan?" She asks seriously.
Perfuma tilts her head to the side, her long blonde hair tipping off her shoulder. "My plan?" She echoes, confusion marring her face.
"Instructions?" She trails off uncertainly when she receives no response. "Orders?"
Perfuma’s face clears some, but there’s still a question lurking in her gaze. "It’s meditating. You close your eyes and you let go of thoughts. Once your mind is clear, you breathe deep and try to sink into that."
She does what she can to keep her face devoid of emotion. Adora feels like the instructions are vague, but Perfuma seems to meditate a lot, so she figures she'll try. “So, I close my eyes?”
“Yes.” She watches Perfuma take a deep breath and relax into her hips, her eyes softly fluttering shut.
Adora does the same, shutting her eyes and taking in a large breath, so large that the outer expanses of it hurt her ribs a little. She slowly breathes out, but now she can only think of her lungs contracting and expanding as if they’ll stop working all together if she stops thinking about them.
It’s distracting, but not distracting enough to keep her thoughts at bay or to make her stop feeling the pricks of the few pebbles under her or the uncomfortable way her legs are resting on each other. She can feel her forehead scrunching up and now she has to force her eyes close.
Adora sighs, peeking with one eye open. Perfuma looks just as still and quiet as she did however long it was since Adora tried to relax. She grabs her ankles with her hands and clears her throat. Perfuma opens her eyes, tilting her head in confusion when she realizes Adora is glancing sheepishly at her.
"I’m trying, but it’s hard." She knows she sounds petulant but there’s nothing she can do about it.
Perfuma opens her mouth for a moment, then closes it. "Well, I don't think you're supposed to try that hard—"
"How else are you supposed to do it?" She snaps, before pressing her lips shut.
Perfuma glances at her uncertainly. "Just—do it?" She brings her hands together. "I've never really had to walk anyone through it. I’ve had a meditation practice since I was young."
"Oh." She quiets, looking at her lap. So Adora is just terrible at it—others manage to make it work. "Did ... have you ever meditated with Catra?" She’s almost sure that she’s heard Catra mentioned doing this with Perfuma before.
Perfuma brightens. "Yes, she’s quite good at it! Maybe she'd have some pointers?"
“Maybe.” Adora sighs—another thing she isn’t cut out for. She looks down at her knees, her legs crossed over each other. “Thanks for inviting me, but I think I’m done for today.”
Perfuma nods understandingly and lets Adora go. She gets back to her room and lays down on her bed, frowning up at the ceiling.
“What’s got you looking like you’re about to transform and stick your sword into the ceiling?” Catra’s words ring out as a cautious tease.
She glances over at her girlfriend. “I’m fine.” She pouts and crosses her arms.
Catra comes over, sitting on their bed. She leans over and touches Adora’s bottom lip. “Yeah, you seem really fine.” She offers, disbelief tinges her voice.
Adora sighs. “How do you meditate?” She asks abruptly.
“Huh?” She lays down next to Adora, turning so that she’s facing her. “Why are you asking about meditating?” She furrows her brow, her eyes curious, if a bit confused.
“I tried to meditate with Perfuma today and I totally failed.” She screws her eyes shut and lets out a grown. “It was so hard! And stupid!”
Adora feels hot tears spring up unexpectedly as her throat tightens. She wipes at them surreptitiously but Catra catches the movement from a mile away.
“Hey, hey.” Catra looks at her with some concern, her tail wrapping around Adora’s calf in a soothing gesture. “It’s okay to not be good at something.”
“I know that.” Is her knee jerk response.
“Do you?”
“Okay—I know that in my head. Most of the time.” Catra gives her a dubious look. “I swear, I do!” SHe peeks at Catra between her fingers. “It doesn’t make me feel less like I’m disappointing someone when I fail.”
“Okay, first off, I doubt Perfuma was critical about this.” Catra cups Adora’s cheek. “Second, you’re right—meditation is stupid. Don’t tell Perfuma though.”
Adora lets out a short laugh and sniffles. “She said you were good at it.”
Catra rolls her eyes. “I took a nap while she meditated. She didn’t notice the difference.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Catra shrugs. “It just wasn’t for me.”
“It just wasn’t for you.” Adora mumbles under her breath. “But Glimmer suggested it might help me relax.”
“I’m all for you relaxing, but getting you all worked up about relaxing probably isn’t helping.”
“Ugh.” Adora shakes her head. “I hate that I can’t just try to relax. If I could put effort into it I’d get better.”
Catra lays down, pulling Adora until her back is pressed to Catra’s front. “Tell me a story from when we were kids at the Horde. Something fun.” She asks softly, completely confusing Adora.
“What does that have to do—”
“That sounds like a question, not a story.” She snaps back quickly, dropping a soft kiss on Adora’s neck.
She huffs. “Okay.” She thinks about it for a moment before she has it. “I remember the first day I managed to crawl into a vent?” Adora tries to turn to send Catra a questioning look but she’s wrapped around Adora’s back.
“That’s good. You sucked at climbing.” Catra murmurs, a slight laugh in her voice.
“I did not! You have a tail for balance and claws and reflexes, it was never a fair fight.” Adora furrows her brow, focusing on her task. “Anyway, you’d been climbing into the vents for ages but I couldn’t get up. But then I found that old rusted ledge in the back of one of the storage rooms and I was just tall enough to crawl in.” Adora lets out a soft laugh. “You were so surprised when I found you and then we hung out in the vent for a week.”
They played in the vents until a Force Captain reported it to Shadow Weaver, then bars were placed over the vent and she and Catra got reprimanded. That part of the story is less fun.
“That was around the time we found our spot. Those climbing skills came into use, huh?”
“They did.”
They’re quiet for a few moments. “Turn around, Adora.” She does as Catra asks, tilting her head at the bemused look on Catra’s face. “You’re relaxed.” She says matter of factly.
“Huh?” Adora looks down and thinks about her body and realizes Catra’s right to a degree—she’s not boneless or anything, but she feels mentally clear and comfortable. She thinks she could even take a nap without much provocation. “How did that happen?”
“You let yourself relax. You weren’t trying so hard.” Catra shrugs. “It's going to be different for you and me, I think. I keep expecting that it’ll be the same at some point but the princesses—they don't really get it.”
Adora leans closer to Catra until their foreheads are touching. “I don’t mind as much when it’s the two of us together.”
Catra places a soft kiss on her lips before she wraps herself around Catra, her chest beginning to rumble. “Me neither.”
Three
This meeting seems to drag on forever, but Adora can’t exactly leave—not when it’s one of their first interplanetary diplomats visiting and this meeting has been over a year in the making. He’s made appointments to visit all of the kingdoms, but he insisted on starting with Bright Moon.
Glimmer invited her and Catra to participate although Adora doesn’t feel like she’s contributed much to the discussion. Every time she thinks to say something, she wonders if she should say it for a moment too long and the discussion continues without her, leaving her point misplaced.
They’re close to break for lunch, but the ambassador is locked in, engaging Glimmer directly. “I’m curious about your demilitarization efforts. What steps have you taken toward it now that Horde Prime has been defeated?”
Glimmer tilts her head. Adora knows her well enough to see that she’s hiding some frustration. The ambassador has gone off topic more than once in the last few hours. “What do you mean?
“Well, your planet must be littered with weapons. Everyone across the galaxy has heard of She-ra, for example.” The ambassador nods at Adora with a slight smile before turning back to Glimmer. “But generally, in many of the corners of the universe I have visited, we have found that it’s better to lay our arms down and not create new enemies.”
“We don’t—we haven’t discussed anything formally. The weapons in the Fright Zone were mostly confiscated and disabled, but I honestly don’t know how many weapons there might be in the other kingdoms.”
The ambassador nods. “Understandable. It might be something to look toward—after all, the military might that you all surely possess isn’t necessary any longer. You can exert your efforts on more useful things.”
A flash of annoyance crosses Glimmer’s face. “Thank you. I think we’ll make that decision within our own planet, if that’s alright. Now, I think we should get back to discussing the treaty.”
Adora hears the ambassador make some broad platitude that approximates an apology but she hardly hears it over her own thoughts. The thread the ambassador weaved together runs through her mind drowning everything else.
… littered with weapons … She-ra … isn’t necessary any longer… exert your efforts on more useful things …
She doesn’t realize her breaths are short, barely filling her lungs, until she feels Catra’s hand squeeze her forearm. She looks up at Catra who eyes her with concern. Not just Catra—the whole table has turned to look at her with questioning gazes.
"I need a minute." She manages to choke out before she all but sprints out of the room. There’s a private study in the next room over and Adora barrels in there, trying to catch her breath as shame and embarrassment pound down on her.
She only has thirty seconds alone before she hears the door behind her open.
"Hey. What just happened?"
Adora widens her eyes as Glimmer walks over to her. "What are you doing here? You need to get back the ambassador—"
"The ambassador can wait a moment." Glimmer puts both her hands on Adora's shoulders. "Are you okay?"
She looks up at her with concern and she realizes that she’s looking up a lot higher than she should be. Adora looks down at her hands, noticing the bracers on her arms. “Ugh.” It’s been a long while since she transformed unintentionally. “Sorry. Just got overwhelmed.”
Adora braces herself, expecting a barrage of questions in Glimmer’s quest to help fix things. Instead, her friend surprises her.
“Okay. Do you want to sit the rest of this out? We’re almost done anyway.”
She takes a deep breath, fighting the knee jerk rejection of the offer. “Yeah, if that’s okay.” The shame tastes bitter in the back of her throat, but she doesn’t think she can go back without embarrassing herself further.
She nods. “Yeah. We can talk about it later if you want.”
Adora can feel her throat closing at the thought of explaining this to Glimmer. “Maybe.” She hedges.
“I’ll find you tomorrow to go over details for the Thaymor revival project. Take the rest of the day off.” She orders in what Adora thinks of as her Queen Glimmer voice.
“I don’t need—” Glimmer puts a hand on Adora’s shoulder, now at her normal height.
“I didn’t say you did. Take it anyway. There’s no war anymore—we can rest, even if it’s not just for survival.”
“I know that.” It’s been said and re-said over and over—how different things are now that there’s peace. It’s one thing to know and another to believe.
“Then, don’t worry about it.” With that, Glimmer leaves Adora, likely cleaning up the mess she’s left in what used to be the war room.
Adora looks around and decides she doesn’t want to linger nearby—doesn’t want to run into the strangers or anyone else that was at the meeting.
She resolves to go back to her room but instead of brooding at her desk or laying in bed, she makes her way out to the balcony.
Adora’s always liked heights. She’s not sure if it’s because she used to follow Catra wherever the magicat climbed as children or if it reminds her of the spot up on the rooftop when they were teenagers. In any case, sitting on the balcony reminds her a little of that, even though her life could not be more different now from what it was then.
You’re safe here, Adora. Even if you aren’t of use, you’re safe.
She sits on the ground, pulling her knees to her chest. She looks out at the land surrounding the castle, to the place where it abuts the Whispering Woods. She can’t see past the thick foliage, but she knows that the Fright Zone lies at the other end.
Adora is fiercely glad the war is over, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy . Especially not when she’s reminded of how aimless she feels. During the war, the answer was simple enough—she was She-ra and that meant she had to end the war and protect her friends. Now her role feels ill defined and nebulous at best.
“Adora?”
“Catra.”
She tries to stand but she doesn’t make it onto her feet before Catra sits beside her, dropping her head on Adora’s shoulder. “Been sitting here long?”
“Whenever Glimmer went back into the meeting.”
“So a few hours then.”
She blinks as she turns to look at Catra. “Has it really been all that long?”
“Yeah.” She can see Catra glance over at her. “What’s got you so preoccupied you lost track of time?”
"How did you ... you always look so at ease in there." She’s not jealous exactly, but she doesn’t understand how there are times where Catra so seamlessly reads situations in a way Adora’s never been able to.
Catra shrugs. "I might have faked it a little."
Adora stares at her with wide eyes. "Really?"
"Yeah." Catra lets out a quiet sigh. "Remember, I know how to look put together when I'm really not."
"Like when you were second-in-command?" Adora prods softly.
"Yeah. Like that."
"That doesn't sound ... good. To have to fake it, I mean." Every time she thinks that she has the hang of everything, it feels like the rug gets swept out from under her.
"It's how I've gotten by for most of my life. Hard to just switch it off now."
A thought runs through her mind. "Do you ever feel like you have to fake anything with me?"
Her face softens completely, and she leans forward, pressing a soft barely there kiss on Adora's lips. "No. At times, I ... hide, but I don't fake anything."
Adora nods. She knows that sometimes Catra needs space—Adora is never far and Catra knows to find her if she needs her.
"Good." Adora sighs, wrapping her arms around Catra. "Sometimes, I feel like you're the only person I can be myself around."
"Does that mean you're going to tell me about what freaked you out earlier?"
Adora nods her head, resting her chin on the crown of Catra’s head. “Just thinking about how I don’t know …” She trails off, trying to find the right words. “For a long time, I think I saw myself as a weapon. And I didn’t think I’d make it through the war.” She looks toward the Whispering Woods again. “And now things are good but I don’t have a purpose. A—destiny, I guess.”
Catra places a soft kiss on her cheek before pulling her arm around Adora’s shoulder. “You know, finding a weird hologram in the woods that tells you your life purpose is probably a once in a lifetime deal.”
Adora snorts. “Yeah, I don’t want that again.” She bites her lip. “I want to feel good about what I do. Useful.”
“You don’t have to be useful. But if you want to be, it’s up to you to do it. To find out what you want.”
“I guess.” Adora sighs. “Wanting things is hard.” She complains.
“No one has it all figured out yet. Not even Sparkles, and she has a whole kingdom to run.”
“Not even you?”
She laughs. “Definitely not me.” Catra shoots Adora a look. “But, I get to have friends and be with you. I like helping Glimmer with her royal duties. I’m not sure if I want to do it forever, but I’ll find out.”
“Maybe we should just make a little cabin in the Whispering Woods and live there.”
“I’ll move anywhere with you.” It’s as much of a declaration as Catra dares most days and it makes Adora’s cheeks hurt from how wide her smile is. “Except the Northern Reach, that shit is way too cold.”
She laughs. “I kind of want to go again so I can see you in a fluffy jacket now.” It’s odd how she’s seen so much of Etheria at the same time as Catra, but all the memories feel tainted by the war that they were fighting. “I’d like to travel to all the places we went, but together now.”
“I’d like that too.”
It’s not a destiny, but the thought of traveling with Catra now does make Adora feel more grounded.
Four
She bolts straight up in her bed, panting heavily. She reaches a hand up to her chest, the failsafe glowing in the dark. She covers the beacon, not wanting it to bother Catra.
In her dream, she was back there again. As much as that moment in the Heart of Etheria changed everything for the better, it's also unbearable to relive.
When Adora dreams of being at the Heart of Etheria, sometimes it's good. Sometimes it's Catra's teary voice and her warm lips and then the burst of magic that swelled within her, a response to Catra demanding that she stay alive. It's the euphoria of realizing that Catra feels the same—that she loves Adora and everything Adora held within herself during the war wasn't one sided. It’s pure love, the blinding unadulterated kind that makes you feel like you can do anything. The kind that demands the attention of everyone and everything. The type that saves the world.
This is not one of those dreams.
Adora remembers the searing pain of being trapped so clearly, the magic tearing her apart from the inside. There were hues of sickly green, Prime's presence oppressive even with him nowhere in sight. She could feel the jagged bands of the magic caging her wrapping tightly, so pressed into her that it felt like she might be bleeding on the inside.
But most of all, she remembers the deep seeded hopelessness that lived in her chest, taking root in every part of her. The feeling that, no matter how hard she tried or how much she fought it, there was a destiny for her to complete. To die in the name of everyone else.
She rubs at her face, eyes darting around as they adjust to the barely there moonlight that creeps in through the break in their curtains. She takes a deep breath when she notices Catra is there, curled into herself on the other side of the bed.
The sigh that escapes her rattles on its way out, as much as she tries to stay quiet. The relief she feels just looking at Catra is undeniable. She focuses on running her fingers over her bed sheet as she picks out little details of the sleeping magicat, letting them distract her from her body’s heightened state.
She always forgets just how small Catra is, especially when she curls up like this. She’s in an impossibly tight circle, her body barely discernible amongst the wrinkles of all the blankets she’s hiding under. Her head pokes up out of the blankets, half shoved under a pillow, her face totally slack. If Adora listens closely, she can hear a light sound—it could be a snore or a purr. Maybe both. She knows from experience that if Catra were laying on top of her the vibrations would tickle her ribs.
"Adora?" Catra’s voice is sleepy, like the days that they ran drills until late at night and were still expected to wake up early to report to Weaver. She cracks an eye open, slowly unfurling from her tight cocoon. "Why are you up?"
She feels a crushing wave of guilt at disturbing Catra. It’s not even anything important. "I just—dream." She manages to spit out. She hesitates for a moment before she admits, "nightmare."
Catra tugs Adora until she’s laying down and then climbs on top of her, rubbing her cheeks into Adora's collarbone. Slowly, a purr picks up until it rumbles so hard Adora feels it everywhere, the vibrations in her bones. "Want to talk about it?" She offers softly, head tucked into Adora’s neck.
It makes her heart clench how well Catra knows her—she looks away, giving Adora the illusion of space so that she can be vulnerable while also being so physically present Adora could never think she’s alone.
"Not right now." It's too fresh—in the quiet of the morning, with the sunlight dancing in Catra's hair, she's sure she'll feel braver and she'll tell Catra about it. Speaking about it in the dark feels like it'll solidify the nightmare even more.
Catra raises her head, one of her ears folded inside out from nuzzling in her sleep. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Could you just—” Adora tries to find words for what she wants right now, but it evades her. She just knows that being held might be enough to make the prickling feeling on her skin pass, but she doesn’t think she has the courage to voice that.
Catra doesn’t seem to need it, taking her in for a moment longer before doubling her efforts in purring and pulling herself close to Adora. "Go to sleep. Focus on me." The demands are gentle as her clawed hands lightly touch Adora’s arm.
"I'm always focused on you." She says, a little dazed from the sensation of the rolling rumbles that are soothing her. It reminds her of different times—when they were children and Catra hadn’t yet been taught to be ashamed of the things that made her different and Adora hadn’t learned that it was safer to pretend she was fine than to cry.
"Good girl." Catra says softly as she holds still, practically a weighted blanket atop Adora. "I just want you to rest some. You deserve it."
Adora nods, but it's a slow thing. Already, she can’t call up the memory of the Heart of Etheria with the sharpness she could minutes ago. The pinpricks on her skin, the feeling of an evil presence she knows is long gone, the nausea, all of it slowly dissolves until the edges are like the clouds in Mystacor, foggy and indecipherable.
Catra’s purposeful purr stutters to a stop overtime, her softer snore replacing it. Adora runs her hands down Catra’s back, softly petting her fur. The last remnant of anxiety slowly petters away and she falls asleep with her face tucked into Catra, breathing her in.
Five
“She-ra, look!”
Adora turns around, not expecting the person who called out to her to be quite so close. It’s a mother with her child in her outstretched hands, almost waving him in Adora’s face.
"It's a baby." She offers dumbly. Of course she’s seen children—mostly, after she left the Horde—but it wasn't often and never this up close before.
"Yeah, do you want to hold it?"
"I really shouldn't." Adora's voice pitches up as she holds her hands up in surrender.
The mother takes no mind, all but shoving her child in Adora's arms. She lets out a yelp but balances the child carefully in her hands.
The mother brightens. "See! You're a natural. Just hold him for a minute." Before Adora can formulate a response, the mother has run off into the crowd, leaving her flabbergasted and apparently responsible for a child.
She looks around, trying her best to see where the woman left but it’s no use, not when the market is teeming like this. Adora isn’t even sure how the woman intends to find her again. Well, She-ra is a bit of an eyesore so hopefully she’ll be able to find her quickly.
The child seems mostly unbothered thankfully. Adora has no idea what she’d do if he started crying. He’s looking at her intensely, an almost frown on his face. That doesn’t seem good—is frowning a precursor to crying?
"Ha! How'd you end up on babysitting duty?" Catra eyes the baby for a moment. “To a baby we don’t even know.”
"I don’t know, but it won't stop staring at me."
She's worried that the sweat in her palms is going to make her grip on the baby slip, but she also doesn't want to hold it any tighter. It doesn't feel like it's made of study stuff.
"You're so weird." Catra comments offhandedly. She twitches her ears, and the baby turns his attention to Catra, enraptured with the movement. She takes a step back. "Don't get any ideas." She warns lowly. "You have to find a way to give him back to his family."
"His mom just dropped him in my arms. She doesn't even know me!" Adora whines.
Catra rolls her eyes. "Sure, she does. You're She-ra. She-ra would never steal a baby."
"She-ra shouldn't hold babies either." She purses her lips. “For all she knows, I shoot laser beams out of my hands.”
“Then drop the baby.” Catra says offhand. “If you’re so worried.”
“I can’t just drop a baby, Catra!” She glances around to see if anyone heard Catra’s suggestion—or better yet if the wayward mother returned. “It could hurt the baby, I’m pretty sure.”
“I thought you were just saying you shouldn’t be trusted with a baby.”
“Well, I shouldn’t. I’m all wrong for it—I don’t even know what they need.” She supposes babies probably need some of the things all living beings need. Food, water, a safe place to sleep. But she doesn’t know much more than the things she remembers from her childhood which she knows probably aren’t right. It’s not like she knows what kids are supposed to do when they aren’t training to be soldiers.
“But you won’t drop it.” She prompts.
“Yeah. I don’t want to hurt it—just seems kind of inevitable.” Adora mumbles, her voice suddenly tight.
Catra changes in a moment, her ears pinning back as she takes a few steps closer. “Hey. Hey. What’s that about?”
Adora clears her throat and tries to hold onto the magic she feels slipping from her. Before she can respond, the mother is back. “Oh, thank you!” Adora readily hands the baby over to the woman, watching as she places a soft kiss on her little boy’s head. “His father won’t believe he was held by a hero of Etheria today.” With a blink, the woman is back in the crowd—thankfully with her child in her arms.
Adora transforms back into herself and the feelings she’d been fighting rattle in her chest. She welcomes them, reaching out for Catra’s hand. She walks off to one of the less crowded areas, a few feet away from where the vendor stalls start.
“I just don’t think I could ever have a baby.” She vocalizes it that way for the first time. “I know that you’re worried about it, but I’m worried too.”
Catra bites her lip, one of her fangs poking out. “You’ve never said that before.”
It’s not a topic they discussed often, just enough to know it’s not something they want now. At times, it has tied into Catra’s self-loathing—Adora couldn’t begin to guess how many times Catra thought of herself as too damaged to be around the people she loves, never mind the idea of raising a whole person. But Adora can’t say she feels any more whole than Catra. Perhaps that’s why everything feels less scary with Catra—she’s not afraid of her own jagged edges, not when she can see Catra’s and still love her.
“Sometimes it’s hard to put feelings into words.” Adora admits with a shrug. “I’m not the feelings guy, you know?”
That makes Catra smile, even as she rolls her eyes. “I know that much.” She reaches up and touches Adora’s cheek. “But you know you’d be a good mother, don’t you?”
Adora’s throat runs dry, something about the undeserved praise making her skin pink. “I—I don’t know that.”
“You should.” Catra shrugs. “You’d probably have like, fifteen back up plans to change a diaper.”
Adora lets out a startled laugh at the image. The idea of overplanning for something like that felt true to her. She could almost imagine Catra teasing her for fastidiously studying how to do everything, keeping Adora grounded the way only Catra knew how to do. It sounds like them.
“Maybe.” It’s the most confident she’s felt about the whole thing, but it’s not bad. Adora has grown mostly okay with not knowing how everything will turn out. “In any case, no babies now, right?”
“Definitely.”
Adora’s stomach rumbles loudly. “We should find food.”
Catra laughs at her, patting her gut. “You’re always hungry.” It’s overly fond and sappy, something she’s sure Catra even three years ago would have struggled with.
Adora leans forward and kisses her, then they find dumplings.
And One
It all happens like it’s a hologram replaying a memory—Glimmer chases Catra with a hairbrush and Catra clings to her, hiding from the Queen. Bow walks in hurrying them up and he and Glimmer walk out of their room, leaving Catra and Adora behind for a moment.
“You coming?” Catra reaches out her head, a wide grin on her face as she looks at her.
Adora blinks twice to make sure the sequence of events that played out before her weren’t a dream. Catra is still standing there, arm stretched out although now her head has a quizzical tilt to it.
It’s exactly like her vision.
“Have I ever told you what it was like for me, at the Heart of Etheria?” Adora blurts out, unable to keep it to herself any longer.
Catra’s eyes widen, clearly taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. “I mean—you said that it hurt a lot. That you could hear my voice.” She trails off searching Adora for a clue as to where she’s going with this. “I’m not sure if you said anything else—it’s been so long since we talked about it.”
It’s been over eight years since the end of the war and although it’s not something they could ever forget, it’s not present in their lives the way it was in the beginning.
“There was something else that happened while I was—out of it.” She grabs Catra’s hand, pulling it between both of hers.
“What?”
“Well…this.” She gestures between them, at Catra’s cape and then up at her tiara and her loose hair, things she’s slowly come to enjoy over time.
She furrows her brow. “This?”
“What just happened. I saw it then.” Adora’s lips twist into a grimace. “Prime saw it too. He said it was a beautiful wish.”
Catra’s face flares with anger. “Fuck him.” She hisses out, her fur fluffing up with her annoyance before she freezes. “Wait … so you saw the future?” She looks at Adora again, this time with trepidation. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Adora always knew this would be something Catra would want to know if she ever decided to reveal her vision. It’s not something she’s fully prepared for because she never knew if she’d bring it up.
“At first, I was too afraid of what it meant. If it was real or not,” Adora remembers laying in bed and agonizing about whether it was a future she would get to have. Whether she even deserved it. "And after a while, I guess—I finally realized that the future is what we make it."
Catra’s face clears. “Just like that?”
Adora shakes her head. “No. It took a long time for me to think that way.” She smiles as she looks at her pin proudly displayed on Catra’s cape. “I didn’t really embrace it until I asked you to marry me.”
“Is that why it took you so long?” Catra teases lightly, shaking her head. “I didn’t know that.”
“It doesn’t matter what we deserve.” For so long Adora let her shame of not quite measuring up overshadow her happiness. She slowly shed it and now she can hardly remember what it was like to live under the mounting pressure. “I just know that I love you more than anything, Catra.”
She smiles and leans forward, giving Adora a number of soft kisses that warm her from the inside out. She takes one of Adora’s hands and drags it down to her belly, softly placing it over her middle. “Not more than anything for long.”
For a moment, Adora doesn’t think much about Catra’s words, lost in the haze of her kiss and her touch. But then she notices Catra’s expectant eyes shining with excitement and her eyes shoot down to her stomach.
“You—really?” Adora’s voice pitches up, her throat tightening. “The healers said it could take a few tries, are you sure?”
Catra nods her head, laughing. “It’s been difficult to keep from you given how nauseous I’ve been.”
“I don’t want to miss a moment.” Adora leans forward and kisses her again, her hand never straying from the warm spot Catra found for it. “A child.” She breathes out the words, joy singing in her veins. “Our child.” She amends quickly.
“Are you nervous?” She asks, searching Adora’s gaze. They went back and forth on whether they even wanted children for years until they both realized that they did—Catra realizing a little more quickly than Adora, like in most things.
“Very nervous.” Adora shakes her head. “I feel like my happiness is burning through most of the nerves right now.”
“We do have to get going. Bow really wasn’t kidding about Scorpia killing us if we’re late.”
“I don’t know how I could move from right here ever again.” Adora rubs her hand on Catra’s torso and then places a soft kiss on her forehead.
“Sap.” Catra accuses, before leaning forward and kissing Adora in earnest, and then everything that truly matters to Adora is slotted perfectly within her arms.
