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Chapter Text

While Adora finds princess fashion baffling and pointless, seeing Catra in her prom outfit for the first time—thankfully while her friend is distracted trying in vain to convince the tiny regent of this land to throw Adora and Scorpia out—makes her briefly reconsider.

Adora was overwhelmed just by the Horde's limited selection of formal wear in her size. She eventually let Kyle pick out her outfit: a black and white tuxedo to match Scorpia's sleek dress. It feels unnatural, but so did any of her other choices.

Everything has felt off since Catra defected anyway.

Adora may be color coordinated with her 'date,' but her mind can't help but supply that she also matches Catra somewhat, the both of them wearing suits. Then again, Catra's is purple, and thoroughly Bright Moon in style. At least it's not pastel.

Adora's eye can't help but be drawn to the cut of it.

A voice in the back of her head hisses at her not to lose sight of her objective. Maybe attachments are the kind of dangerous distractions she was always warned about growing up.

But distractions can go both ways.

After Catra and the princess of Bright Moon's petition to have them kicked out is denied, Adora and Scorpia separate. Catra and her sparkly companion are forced to do the same in order to keep an eye on both of them. Just as Adora planned, Catra is the one to tail her. After all, it's just good tactics. Catra knows her best.

Tonight is about strategy, but Adora can't deny how good it feels to have her friend's attention on her outside of a battle again. The thrill of it warms her skin even in the chilled ballroom.

Adora weaves through the crowd at random, happily leading Catra on a fruitless chase. She eventually finds herself near the snack table. Adora dedicated an entire afternoon of her prep for this mission to memorizing the types and various components of the food that would be served. Her research indicated that it was integral to the festivities. Eating, dressing—princesses make everything so unnecessarily complicated. Determined to put her reconnaissance to use, she takes a cautious nibble of the first piece of food she recognizes while she waits for Catra to approach.

All of her careful planning for the night briefly flies out of her head when the appetizer hits her tongue. She assumed the elaborate colors and shapes were mostly decorative—sparkle over substance, in typical princess manner. But it turns out it also tastes pretty in a way she didn't realize food could be. The flavor is rich and layered and nearly overwhelming after a lifetime of bland ration bars.

Catra had been glaring at her from where she skulked nearby, but whatever Adora's face does in response to the epiphany happening in her mouth causes her expression to soften a little.

She drifts closer as Adora pops another of the addictive morsels in her mouth. And then another. Why do they make these servings so small? She knows from the etiquette rules she has been studying that tipping the entire plate into her mouth would be frowned upon, but it's tempting nonetheless.

“Is this seriously your first time?” Catra sneers, though there is less bite to her tone than there has been ever since the sword came between them. It almost sounds like the kind of mocking that Adora used to know disguised affection. “Even as a fancy force captain you still haven't tried any contraband food?”

Adora smirks. “You know, if the food is what is keeping you here, I almost understand. But, like you said, I'm a fancy force captain now. If you come home, I'm sure I can arrange a few princess comforts for you.”

Catra gives a low growl that makes something drop low in Adora's stomach. “Sure, I joined the Princess Alliance for the comfort. Not because the Horde is an evil dictatorship.”

Adora rolls her eyes, popping another appetizer into her mouth. “Like these tyrannical princesses are any better? This kingdom has to answer to the authority of a spoiled child, all because she was born with magic powers. How is that fair?”

Adora has never been more certain of the insidious nature of princess magic. She understands why Catra could be drawn to that kind of power after a lifetime being at its mercy, but deep down she must know that it's wrong. Adora just has to find a way to get through to her.

Things aren't perfect at the Horde, but at least they try to be fair. Everyone gets the same food, the same clothes, the same training. While people who rise through the ranks are granted certain privileges, those privileges are things like private rooms, not their own castle. Leadership roles are awarded based on demonstrated merit and loyalty to the mission—not due to some arbitrary provenance of birth.

“Princesses aren't tyrants,” Catra says. “Half of them refuse to use their magic for violence even with the Horde knocking on their doorstep.”

Adora rolls her eyes. “If the princesses don't want a war, they can always surrender their magic peacefully. Like Scorpia's kingdom did.”

“If you think your girlfriend's kingdom was seized peacefully, you're even dumber than I thought,” Catra says, her voice bitter.

Adora pauses, taking a reluctant step away from the platter. She absently licks her lips and notices Catra's gaze flick down to them.

Food immediately forgotten, Adora steps closer, bringing them only inches apart. “She's not my girlfriend.”

Before Catra can respond, Adora brushes past her, ducking into the hallway servers have been using to bring trays back and forth from the kitchens. She is relieved to find it clear for the moment. Now that Catra is actually talking to her, she wants them to be alone.

Sure enough, Catra follows hot on her heels.

“So, if this isn't a date, you admit that you're here because you're up to something,” she says, crossing her arms.

Adora smirks. “Would it bother you more if I were here on a mission or a date?”

Catra's fur fluffs up in obvious fluster, her cheeks darkening. “A mission, obviously!” She gestures to the hallway around them. “What are we even doing back here? Are you planning to poison the food?”

“No, but that's not a bad idea,” Adora says, her smile turning coy. “See, this is why I need you back. The way your mind works...”

“Nice to know you've gone all in on murdering innocent people,” Catra says.

Adora sighs. “It's a war, Catra. The Horde's focus has always been the princess's power sources and the rebellion strongholds. We can't help if they use civilians as shields.”

“I can't believe you're still buying their propaganda after you saw it!” Catra says, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “Did Thaymor seriously look like a rebellion 'stronghold' to you?”

“Our forces were the ones decimated in Thaymor,” Adora says. “And again in Salineas, where there were no 'innocent civilians' to protect. Just a giant princess gate that you apparently value more than your former squad, whose boat was set on fire while you were playing magic mechanic.”

“Right, and if the Horde got through the sea gate I'm sure all the peaceful coastal towns beyond it would be totally safe,” Catra says, her tone scathing.

Adora's mouth quirks. “You really are always thinking two steps ahead, huh? I've missed that.” She steps closer, and the move clearly catches Catra off guard. “Do you really think these princesses see your true value the way I do? They're just like Shadow Weaver, obsessed with magic. They only care about their precious She-Ra, not you.”

The way Catra's ears pin back and she turns away from Adora's gaze makes it clear that she's struck a chord. “I've always known how brilliant you are, Catra. I can plan a battle, but predicting behavior outside of a fight? Playing politics? That's what's been turning the tide of the war, and you've never needed some creepy sword to do that. Come home to me. With you by my side, we can take over the Horde, and make it better. Just like we always planned.”

Catra growls again. “Sure, I'm so valuable as me that I should just give up being She-Ra and hand the sword over to Shadow Weaver, right? How stupid do you think I am?”

Adora takes a chance and steps even closer, her voice low. “Catra, I don't want to give Shadow Weaver any more power. I want you to help me take her down.”

Catra’s gaze whips back to her, shock and accusation written all over her features. “You expect me to believe that Shadow Weaver's favorite wants to stage a coup?”

“Being her favorite is meaningless when she never really cared about either of us," Adora says. "All she cares about is gaining more power.”

Adora knows she should have seen it sooner with how they were treated growing up, but it never really sunk in until Catra went missing. Shadow Weaver raised them, but she wouldn't grant Adora leave to search for her friend. She even tried to convince Adora that she would be better off without Catra holding her back.

Regardless of whatever magical brainwashing the sword did, it's no wonder Catra didn't want to come home to that.

After it came to light that Catra had turned into some kind of long lost mythical hero, suddenly Shadow Weaver cared. Not about Catra and the fact that she had been infected by some kind of princess contagion, but about the sword she now wielded. The sorcerer has even started going against Hordak's orders in her obsessive quest. Clearly their second in command has never truly cared about the Horde's mission or the well being of its soldiers. Maybe she has always been that way, or maybe the Black Garnet and its poisonous princess magic corrupted her over time. Adora can’t let the same thing happen to Catra.

Adora knows that Catra has seen Shadow Weaver for who she is long before Adora did. When they used to talk about rising the ranks of the Horde, Adora was always focused on proving herself and all the good they could do for Etheria. Catra's fantasies seemed more focused on two things: her and Adora staying together, and Shadow Weaver not having power over them anymore. She may not have dared to utter any treasonous plans out loud, but the implications were often there. Adora overlooked them at the time, but she’s been viewing a lot of her old memories in a new light ever since Catra left.

It turns out that Adora overlooked a lot about her best friend. She never meant to, she thought focusing on advancement would be the best thing for both of them in the long run. She failed to show Catra how much she meant to her before, and being promoted to force captain and not fighting to bring their squad with her on her first real mission was clearly the final straw.

Adora listened to Shadow Weaver and drove Catra away once. She can correct that mistake now, and bring Catra home.

Adora takes a step closer, so close that Catra stumbles backwards in surprise, her back hitting the ice wall behind her with a soft thud. Her friend glares at her, ears pinned back—but she could easily escape to the side to put more distance between them, and she doesn't.

“Catra, if you really want to keep people safe, come back home with me and help me take her down,” Adora says. “Once we're in charge, we can figure out a way to bring peace and order to Etheria with fewer innocent casualties...I need you, Catra. We're supposed to stay together.”

“So, then come with me,” Catra says, struggling to retain her hard expression as her voice borders on pleading. “Don't go back there.”

Adora hoped the prospect of overthrowing their commanding officer would get through to her, but it’s not a surprise that Catra’s still being stubborn. After all, Adora had already tried reasoning with her in Thaymor and Salineas. Tonight was about taking a different approach.

Shadow Weaver tried to break Catra's rebellious spirit with harsh discipline for years. It never worked, and eventually drove her to the other side.

But Adora knows her best friend better than anyone. It's why she jumped on this chance to see her in an environment where violence was strictly prohibited.

Adora leans in and closes the remaining distance between them, resting their foreheads together. Her friend trembles beneath her, seeming at war with herself for a moment before throwing her arms around Adora's neck and clinging tight. Adora brings one arm to wrap around her waist in response and the other up to cradle her face.

Catra will never break under force. But she shatters under a gentle touch.

“I miss you so much. I hate sleeping alone,” Adora murmurs. Catra mewls in response, a desperate cry for affection Adora hasn't head since she was a kitten. “We're so close, Catra. We can have everything we ever wanted. Let me take you home.”

“I-I don't want to go back there, or to rule the world, or to save it as some stupid goddess,” Catra says. “Adora, please. I just want—I've always wanted—”

She tilts her chin up, her eyes wild and beseeching. Adora could never deny her. She leans in and seals their mouths together.

The soft slide of their lips is just as intoxicating as she was always warned about, clouding all of her higher reasoning and instantly addictive. For a moment she swears she feels the cursed heat of magic sparking between them, but that can't be possible when Catra doesn't have the sword.

Adora presses closer, squeezing the grip on her waist and bringing the hand on Catra’s cheek around to cradle the back of her head. Catra whines into her mouth in response. Adora deepens the kiss and it tastes sweeter than princess food, better than the air she surely never needs to breathe again when she could be tasting Catra instead.

Adora loses herself exploring the give-and-take between them in this thrilling and intimate new way until the sound of the first explosion rings out.

They spring apart, the surprise and confusion on Catra's face quickly morphing into a familiar pained rage.

Adora gives her a tight parting smile and runs.

She tells herself it's because she needs to meet up with the rest of the team and complete the mission, not because she can't bear the look of raw betrayal on Catra's face.

Chapter Text

When Adora is summoned to report to the Black Garnet chamber, her heart sinks into her stomach. The alarms are still blaring. They're under siege by princesses, one of the prisoners has escaped, and the facility is on total lockdown. If she's being called away from the search, that can't mean anything good.

Her fears are confirmed when the doors slide open and she sees Catra strapped to a metal table, struggling against electric restraints she can't claw through. The look that crosses over her face when she sees Adora is one of pure loathing.

Adora feels a brief stab of guilt but pushes it aside. What was Catra thinking trying to pull off some harebrained rescue mission? She's a known traitor and she doesn't even have her stupid sword to defend herself! And clearly her new princess pals weren't up to the task of protecting her...

Adora's mind spins, trying to think of a way to get them out of this. When they were younger, she could sometimes talk Shadow Weaver down from punishing her friend for small infractions, but Catra's actions lately go far beyond some childish rule breaking.

“Adora,” Shadow Weaver says, gliding towards her. She forces her eyes away from her former friend to face her commanding officer. “You seem to have understated the accomplishments of your recent mission.”

Adora swallows. “Did I? I mean, my team captured the princess of Bright Moon. That feels like the most important thing.”

The sorceress's eyes narrow and she waves her hand, summoning an item from one of her shadow pockets. Adora flinches when the sword of protection is revealed. She knows nothing can stay hidden in the Fright Zone for long, but she thought she'd have a little more time to come up a plan. She considered chucking the cursed artifact out of the ship on the way over, but that would have been hard to explain to her team. They all knew that the second in command wanted the weapon, and Adora couldn't exactly alert them to her newly treasonous aspirations.

Besides, the night before Catra left when she was still trying to convince Adora she saw a mysterious sword in the woods, she said something about following a bright glowing light. Adora couldn't risk the thing sending up another flare and luring her friend in all over again. She wanted to get the sword away from her—but that doesn't mean she wanted Shadow Weaver to get her hands on it.

“Why were you keeping this from me, Adora?” the sorcerer asks, her voice dangerously low.

“I wasn't,” Adora immediately denies, but coming up with convincing cover stories was always Catra's specialty. Adora has gotten better at lying. It turns out that feeling numb most of the time helps, not to mention slowly losing all respect for the person she's most often deceiving. But while the latter is still true, she could never feel numb with Catra only a few feet away and in danger. “I...forgot? You know, in all the excitement of the successful mission and transporting the hostages. And then, um...I didn't want to bother you! Since you were so busy creating a magic prison to contain the teleportation princess. So, I decided to just put it somewhere safe—”

“Enough,” Shadow Weaver hisses. “Tell me the truth, Adora. Why were you hiding the sword?”

It used to be that she couldn't imagine a worse feeling than disappointing her superior officer. Even as a quiet rage has been building inside her for months, she forced it down along with all of her other emotions. Until she found a way to remove Shadow Weaver from power, she couldn't risk openly defying her. As terrifying as it is to be caught like this, it's almost a relief that there's no longer a point in trying to hide it. She meets her former mentor's gaze with undisguised contempt. “I didn't want you to have it.”

She chances another glance at Catra, whose stormy expression has slipped in her surprise. At least the two of them will probably be going to Beast Island together.

Shadow Weaver drifts closer, and Adora braces herself for the harsh sting of lightening.

“I knew it,” Shadow Weaver says, and her tone isn't what Adora is expecting at all. She sounds almost...pleased? “It calls to you, doesn't it?”

She holds the sword out so it's hovering between them, almost like she's offering it to Adora.

“Um...what?” Adora says, totally lost.

“I've sensed great power in you since you were an infant, Adora,” Shadow Weaver says. “If someone as unremarkable as Catra could unlock the swords gifts, the possibilities for someone with your potential are limitless.” She pushes the sword towards her. “Take it. Try to connect with it.”

Adora dodges the blade as if it were being thrust at her in battle instead of being gently floated in her direction. “No way. I do not want to catch princess powers.”

She's seen what the sword did to Catra. She admittedly sees the appeal of the extra muscles and long flowing hair, even if she far prefers the body of the Catra she grew up with. But being mentally ensnared enough to sneak out in the middle of the night and break every promise you made to the people closest to you? Not appealing!

Shadow Weaver tuts. “There's no reason to be afraid, child. This is what I raised you for.”

“You raised me to be a soldier,” Adora says in exasperation. “A soldier that fights princesses.”

“With the sword's power, you will be unstoppable in battle,” Shadow Weaver says. “We will be able to crush the Rebellion once and for all.”

“We're already crushing the Rebellion!” Adora says. “I brought you the princess of Bright Moon! The queen is surrendering herself—”

“Silence!” Shadow Weaver says, her displeasure crackling through the air as her dark magic gathers in a plume around her. Adora's stomach plummets in a chilling and familiar way when the sorceress turns towards Catra. “This is about her, isn't it? Catra chose to leave you. She has always been disloyal, insubordinate, and lazy. She got a taste of easy power, and defected rather than returning to where we believe power should be earned. And you have earned it, Adora. Don't let her shameful example keep you from it.”

Adora turns away, hugging herself. She knows she failed Catra in a lot of ways, but she still doesn't think her friend would just leave. 

Some of the darkness dissipates, and Shadow Weaver reaches out to cradle her face. “Once you take the sword's power for yourself, the princesses will have no use for Catra. If for some reason you still want her, I will allow you to keep her in your custody...If you don't take the power away from her, then she remains too serious of a threat to be granted leniency. And you know what the Horde does to traitors.”

Shadow Weaver sweeps around behind her, holding the sword in front of Adora's chest at just the right angle to catch her conflicted reflection in the blade. It would also the perfect position for her to slit Adora's throat.

Adora evaluates her options. The idea of becoming a princess makes her sick, but she doesn't see another way out of this. It could keep Catra safe and appease Shadow Weaver for a little longer, until Adora can figure out a way to get rid of her and the sword for good. Catra probably won't exactly be happy about being her prisoner, but...She just needs show Catra that she will treat her better this time, that she cares about her so much more than some stupid princesses who only value people who are just like them— 

The sword is giving off a soft glow, and something deep inside Adora stirs at the sight. She knows what she needs to do.

She twists away, facing Shadow Weaver head on once more. “Then I guess you'll be sending us both to Beast Island.”

Shadow Weaver rears up in response, the last thing Adora sees before everything around her plunges into pitch black. Something flat and solid hits her from behind and suddenly she feels herself being strapped down to a cold, hard surface.

“Oh, Adora,” Shadow Weaver tsks, hovering over her as the room clears. “You will accept the sword, because I am going to wipe your mind. You will have no memory of Catra finding it first. When I'm done, you will be more than happy to accept my gift of a brand new weapon capable of defeating any princess. As for the prisoners...such a shame that your best friend was tragically lost in the mission to capture the princess of Bright Moon.”

Adora struggles against her restraints, but it's no use. Shadow Weaver frames Adora's face in her hands and she feels the sick prickling of magic radiating into her skull.

“Adora!”

Her heart leaps at the sound of Catra's fear. But as hard as she tries, she can't break free, can't protect her. She failed—

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a flash of gold.

Next thing she knows, Catra is flying over the table and slicing straight through the glowing gem on Shadow Weaver's mask.

The magic in the room recedes and extinguishes, like a candle flame deprived of oxygen. Adora's shackles fall away without the electricity that had been keeping them in place. As she rises, rubbing her wrists, she catches sight of the table where Catra had been contained before. Her own restraints appear to have exploded.

That doesn't make sense. She's not She-Ra right now, and the sword is lying on the ground on the other side of the room. Maybe Shadow Weaver was distracted enough attempting to mind wipe Adora that she let her magic hold on her other prisoners slip, but Catra's claws wouldn't have left damage like that.

Shadow Weaver lets out what sounds like a dying wail despite seeming relatively unharmed, dropping to the floor to try and recover the pieces of her mask. She doesn't get far before the princess of Bright Moon, freed when the Black Garnet magic dispersed, punches her in the face and knocks her out.

“Are you okay?” Glimmer asks, clutching at Catra's arm and looking up at her with wide-eyed concerned.

“Yeah,” Catra returns, smiling down at her warmly before retrieving the sword. Adora looks away, bile rising in her throat. “But we need to get out of here…Adora?” Adora looks up, surprised at being addressed. “Are you coming?”

Adora stares at her, still uncomprehending, until Catra's face hardens. “Seriously? You're willing to go to Beast Island for me, but not Bright Moon? Shadow Weaver tried to mind wipe you! You're still going to follow her?”

Adora looks down at the unconscious enchantress, then back up at her friend. Glimmer is shooting uncertain glances between them as she stays pressed up against Catra's side.

Adora may hate Shadow Weaver more than ever in this moment, but that doesn't mean she's forgotten who her real enemy is. If anything, the sorcerer's actions just prove how dangerous magic is—and her defeat presents their first real opportunity to be free of it. Doesn't Catra see that?

“Shadow Weaver is powerless now," Adora says. "Her lax security allowed our highest level prisoner to escape. Hordak isn't going to leave her in charge after that...This is our chance, Catra.”

“You're delusional!” Catra says. “I'm a traitor, remember?”

“Catra, we need to go,” Glimmer tries, tugging weakly at her shirt.

But Catra doesn't look away from Adora, much to her satisfaction. 

Adora slips off the table, slowly closing the few feet of distance between them. “Maybe. Or maybe you've been undercover. Maybe you were instrumental in the Princess Prom mission,” Adora glances down at her lips, “dealing the most devastating blow to the Rebellion in decades. And then, because you earned their trust, you were easily able to lead the rest of the Princess Alliance here with you to be captured.”

She's almost close enough to touch her now. Glimmer seems fed up waiting for Catra to decide, fisting her collar and starting to shimmer. Instead of the pair disappearing in a shower of pink sparks, the effort in the princess's expression quickly gives way to pain as she glows a familiar red.

Shadow Weaver’s magic was apparently good for something in the end. The sight makes Adora feel almost giddy with the prospect of victory.

“Aw, having trouble with your magic, princess?" Adora says. "Ready for an upgrade to a regular cell?”

The taunt seems to finally snap Catra out of it, causing her to pull back with one arm protectively wrapped around Glimmer, and the other raising the sword. “For the honor of Grayskull!”

There's a bright flash, forcing Adora to shield her eyes. When she lowers her arm, her friend has been replaced by a stranger once more.

Adora feels a now familiar coldness spread through her. She doesn't bother to pursue the princesses as they flee—even with her extra bulk as She-Ra, Catra has always been faster than her.

Per protocol, she calmly clicks open the communication line through her badge and reports the breach, and calls for medical attention for her commanding officer.

Catra made her choice. Adora just has to find a way to live with it.