Center Stage (Chapter 4)
Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Characters: Adora, Catra, Glimmer, Bow, Mermista, Sea Hawk, Kyle, Perfuma, Frosta, Angella, Micah, Shadow Weaver
Ships: Catradora, Glimbow, Seamista, Kygelio, Scorptra
Rating: T+
Summary: A Catradora Ballet School AU
AO3
Adora wakes up long before her alarm goes off.
First day of classes. Big day. Her phone tells her it’s a little past six in the morning, and a quick glance to the side of the room tells her that Glimmer is gone, bed unkempt. Carefully, she crawls out of bed, hoping not to wake Catra. Though judging by the girl’s soft snores, there’s not much to worry about.
Six am means she has two hours to kill before her first class. Two hours is plenty of time. Enough for a quick workout, a thorough stretch session, and maybe even a bit of breakfast. If her stomach calms down enough to eat, that is.
From her bedside table, she grabs her earphones and plugs them into her phone. Quiet as can be, she starts with a series of pushups, followed by crunches, bicycle kicks, and leg lifts. Three sets, rinse and repeat. It helps Adora work her nerves out, and lucky for her, Catra sleeps through the entire thing, unaware of it all. She takes extra time to stretch out her muscles, especially her feet. They’d be put through the ringer today, the least she can do is prepare them for what’s to come.
By the time she showers and grabs a couple of muffins from the cafeteria, Catra’s just waking up. She smiles, seeing her awake when she enters the room. Glimmer is still nowhere to be found, it seems. “Hey there,” Adora greets softly, trying not to startle her roommate. “Late start?”
“Not an early riser,” the brunette responds. “What time is it?”
“Seven thirty. Still got about thirty minutes until class.”
“Shit.” As if on cue, Catra’s stomach growls. She glances away in mild embarrassment.
“It’s okay,” Adora says, tossing her a muffin. Catra catches it without missing a bit. “I came prepared.”
Adora tries not to relish the look of surprise on Catra’s face. Score a point to her, for being the best roommate ever. As Catra nibbles on the muffin, Adora rifles through her drawers, pulling out her black leotards and pink tights. Boring, but apparently the required uniform at Bright Moon.
She keeps her back to Catra as she’s changing, humming to herself as a distraction. At the moment, she doesn’t even remember the name of the song she’s humming. It’s a Spanish one, something Mara would sing most mornings as she made breakfast. The routine quells the little bit of homesickness that she’s feeling.
Once she’s dressed, she walks over to the mirror and starts to pin up her hair. By now, Catra’s finished the muffin and has also begun to get dressed. “Want to walk to class together?” she asks, hoping to continue extending the olive branch. She’s not great at making friends, but she promised Mara and Razz that she’d make a better effort at it.
“Uh, sure. I have to brush my teeth, though.”
“That’s okay, I’ll—wait, is that what you’re wearing?”
Catra glances up from adjusting the straps on her leotard. “Yeah?” She pauses, cocks her head to the side and gives a little smirk. “Doesn’t suit your taste?” Unlike Adora, she wears red, with nude colored tights. It looks far better than it should, and Adora can’t help the blush that tints her cheeks.
The question leaves Adora flustered, more than it probably should. It’s too early for this. “What? No. No, it’s fine. Cool actually, super— I mean…” She stops rambling and collects herself with a deep breath. “What you’re wearing is nice, but Bright Moon has a uniform.”
“Uniform?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you read the orientation packet?”
Catra’s face says that she very much hadn’t, but the girl shrugs it off and takes off the hair tie from around her wrist. “Whatever. It’ll make me stand out.”
“I don’t think it works like that. What if you get in trouble?”
The brunette pauses from tying up her hair, shooting a quick look at Adora. “Worried about me?”
Adora scoffs and crosses her arms. “I’m trying to save you from getting your ass kicked out on the first day.”
“They won’t throw me out. Trust me, once they see me dance, they’ll forget all about what I’m wearing.” Her words are strong, but something in Catra’s eyes doesn’t exactly convince Adora. It comes off more like a front, a facade to protect her. Part of her wants to call Catra out on it, but something stops her. Truthfully, it’s none of her business. Who is Adora to stop Catra from doing what she wants?
“Hey, it’s your funeral,” Adora ends up saying.
Catra finishes to tie up her hair, leaving it in a sloppy bun with bangs framing her face. It’s a stark contrast to Adora’s sleek, neat do. “I appreciate the concern,” she says with a wink.
While Catra scoots past her into their shared bathroom to brush her teeth, Adora checks the time on her phone. Class starts in fifteen minutes. She pulls at her fingers for something to do, resisting the urge to chew on her lip. They’re cutting it awfully close. What if all the good spots are taken by the time they get there? She really wants to show up early, scope out the other girls, make a good impression on the teachers.
“Almost ready?” It comes with a bit of a whine, and Adora mentally kicks herself. Now Catra probably thinks she’s such a goody-goody. It doesn’t matter, though. There’s no answer. “Catra?”
“Nearly done. If it’s getting close, go on ahead.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll catch up.”
Permission granted, Adora grabs her already-packed ballet bag and slings it over her shoulder. She barely remembers to grab her room keys on her way out the door. Part of her feels guilty for leaving Catra behind, but she really doesn’t want to be late. Especially not on the first day.
Thanks to her strategic mapping technique from the day before, Adora is able to make it to class in less than five minutes. The dorms aren’t too far from this particular studio, and for that Adora is eternally grateful. As expected, several girls are already there in various points of preparing their pointe shoes. Glimmer stands off to the side, testing out a shiny pair of shoes. In comparison, Adora’s faded ones look abysmal. She really needs a new pair.
Adora takes her place in the center of the room, close to the barre. When class begins, she’ll be front and center; perfect for watching the teacher, and right up front to get her noticed. Easy. Almost too easy. Her pointe shoes are already broken-in, so she takes the time to prep her feet properly before slipping them on. No distractions today. She has to be at the top of her game.
Her nerves aren’t nearly as bad as they were on the day of her audition. Maybe it’s because she’s already in and the hard part is over. Or maybe it has something to do with being inside the gorgeous dance studio again. Last time she was in here, it felt like a dream. Today, it’s her reality.
“Adora!” Perfuma waves at her, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s your first day, how are you feeling? Did you eat breakfast?”
Any other morning, this amount of energy so early in the morning would have turned Adora off. She doesn’t mind it so much today. “Yeah, I got something to eat. And I’m fine. Excited for it to start, really.”
Perfuma places a hand on Adora’s shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. “Glad to hear it. No stress?”
“Not really.”
“That’s great! I’m sure you’re going to be amazing.” For some reason, Perfuma’s encouragement actually helps Adora feel better. She knows that she’s only met the girl a day ago, but there’s something really calming about her general demeanor.
Adora’s about to respond when the doors to the dance studio open. A flock of boys enter the room, and the excitement increases tenfold. Returning students hug and squeal and group together. Off to the side, Adora finally locates Glimmer. She throws her arm around a boy, who cheers and spins her around in delight.
Following right after the boys are a group of adults. Teachers, she assumes, judging by their higher air and the way they watch the students interact. Adora recognizes Angella, Spinerella and Netossa from the audition. Angella holds herself at the front of the room, standing beside a dark-haired man.
“Good morning,” she announces, bright and chipper. The energy in the room immediately simmers down, and many echo the words back to her. “We are so pleased to welcome everyone to the first day of what I am sure will be a wonderful year.”
As she welcomes the new students, Adora scans the crowd for Catra. She doesn’t find her. Biting her lip, she attempts to focus back on Angella. Why is her roommate like this?
“You are our senior class, which means that this will be your last year attending Bright Moon Academy,” the man beside Angella continues. “At the end of the year, we will be picking the top dancers to join our company.” He scans the crowd, and offers a kind smile. “While I’m sure that all of you are incredible, this year we will only have room to add six students to the company.”
Six students? Adora clenches her fist in determination. She’s faced worse odds.
“Throughout the year, we will be observing you and your talents as ballet dancers. However, we will not make any final decisions until we see how you dance in the final workshop performance. With that said, we wish you all the best of luck, and advise you to make this your year.”
When Angella finishes speaking, the group claps. The door opens again, and Catra walks in, completely neutral, not a hint of shame on her face. The man beside Angella raises a brow. “So nice of you to fit us into your schedule, Miss…?”
“Catra.” She grins right back at him. “And no sweat.”
The class snickers at her response, but if Catra cares, she doesn’t show it. Adora sucks in her teeth. Late, again? Really. Is Catra actively trying to get herself kicked out, or does she just not care?
“One more thing before we dismiss you for classes. As you may have heard, the company gala is taking place this weekend. We always invite our senior students to attend the performance and help out at the party afterwards, so please plan accordingly. We do expect you all to attend,” Angella says. “Thank you all!”
That said, the teachers trickle out of the room and the boys bid their goodbyes before leaving for their own class. A dark-haired teacher remains at the front, hands clasped tightly. Catra catches Adora’s eye and gives her a wink, but her expression changes completely once she sees the teacher. That’s weird.
“You may call me Madame Weaver,” the woman continues. “In this class, we will be working on technique, sequences and formations three times a week. At the barre,” she instructs, giving no pleasantries.
Needless to say, the girls toss their bags to the side and scurry to their positions at the barre. Adora already has her spot, and Catra manages to grab the spot on the opposing end. Their hands are inches away from the other. Adora’s not sure why, but it makes her nervous.
“Let’s start with our pliés. First position, demi, and stretch. Full grand plié and return. Port de bras forward. Full port de bras back. The same in second, third, and fifth positions, and then rise and take a balance in fifth.” She speaks a little too quickly for Adora to fully understand what she’s asking, but since she’s good at following along, she’s not too worried.
Madame Weaver nods to the pianist in the room, who begins the opening transition. To no one’s surprise, the girls move through the pliés seamlessly. Thanks to her rigorous stretch earlier, Adora feels nice and limber.
The teacher walks around the room with something to say about everyone. Mermista needs to relax her fingers. Perfuma needs to work on feeling the support from her center. Glimmer is complimented on her technique. Adora glides through the movements, feeling confident and waiting for Madame Weaver to no doubtedly comment on how wonderful her technique is.
When she gets to her, she pauses. “Your name?” Madame Weaver asks.
“Adora.”
“You need to work on your turnout. Without it, your dancing suffers.”
It’s not the advice Adora expected to hear. She looks down at her feet and adjusts her turnout, feeling less comfortable. “Better,” Madame Weaver says before moving on. As Adora continues her plies, she watches from her peripheral as Madame Weaver approaches Catra.
“You will be on time to my class and wearing appropriate attire. You would do well to remember that your place here is subject to my approval. Do I make myself clear, Catra?”
Adora doesn’t hear a response, but she assumes that Catra agrees, for Madame Weaver moves away and proceeds onto the next student. Something about her interaction with Catra unsettles her. It’s almost like they know each other. With a slight huff, she forces the thought out of her mind. She can’t think about that right now.
The class continues. They spend an hour on barre work alone. From there, they move on to floor work and practicing routines across the room. As much as Adora would like to admit otherwise, she struggles. She comes out of turns too slow and stumbles one time too many for her liking. Madame Weaver works quickly and she isn’t always able to catch everything she says. On the whole, she feels like she has much to improve on.
When class ends, Adora sinks down to the floor and yanks open the laces of her pointe shoes. Her feet throb and she just wants to be out of them. Lunch sounds good, too. The lonely muffin she had for breakfast is long gone, and she needs more than just a salad today.
“Hey.” Adora looks up to see Glimmer, offering her an apologetic smile. “Don’t let it get you down. The first day is always rough.”
It’s hard not to take her words personally, especially not after an entire class where Glimmer was the model student. She swallows any bitterness and smiles back. “I guess you’d know, huh?”
“Trust me, there are days I mess up too. Do you want to go have lunch?”
Adora slips into a pair of slippers and stuffs her pointe shoes in her bag before standing up. “Lunch sounds great. I don’t think I’m in the mood for salad though.”
Glimmer laughs and interlocks arms with her. The action is unexpected, but welcome. They head in the direction of the cafeteria, arm in arm. “Hard same. What are you thinking?”
“I could go for a sandwich. Grilled cheese?”
“Deal.”
In less than ten minutes, the two are in line at the cafeteria waiting to pay for their food. Adora steals a fry off her plate, nibbling at it to quell her hunger. “So, it gets better, right?”
“So much better. Weaver never gets easier though.” Glimmer chews on the inside of her cheek before looking off to the side. “She’s just very… particular.”
Adora remembers the short conversation she overheard between Madame Weaver and Catra. Note to self, stay on Weaver’s good side. Couldn’t be that hard, right? Glimmer seems to have figured it out. “She likes you, though.”
“I wish she didn’t. Believe it or not, I kind of hate being the teacher’s pet.”
“What? No way.” When it’s her turn, Adora sets down her tray and pulls out her student ID to pay for the meal. She’s so lucky that she qualified for Bright Moon’s scholarship program. Mara and Razz were more than willing to chip in, but Adora’s never been comfortable with putting more financial burden on them.
“Way.” Glimmer pulls out her card to pay for her food when she looks up and her eyes widen. “I am so sorry.”
“For what?”
“Glimmer!” Angella meets them at the cash register, a stack of papers in her hand. “You haven’t answered my texts. How was your first class?”
Glimmer flushes in embarrassment and grits her teeth. “Mom, you’re holding up the line.”
“Oh, you’re right. Here, let me pay, Dear,” she says, handing the cashier her credit card before Glimmer can argue. Once they’re all settled, Angella walks with them toward a less crowded spot.
“Adora, this is my mom,” Glimmer introduces reluctantly. “Mom, Adora.”
“Yes, Adora. I remember you, from the audition.” Angella takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “It’s so nice to meet more of Glimmer’s friends.”
“Mom.”
Angella clears her throat, smiling bashfully and letting go of Adora’s hands. “Right, sorry. How was the first class?”
“It was good. Nothing to worry about. Right, Adora?”
Adora nods, quickly trying to swallow her mouth full of a couple more fries. “Yep! Just fine,” she says, hoping that Madame Weaver hasn’t already soiled her reputation to Angella.
“Good. I’m so glad to hear that. I won’t pry any more, you girls go on and enjoy your lunch, I just wanted to say hello.” Angella takes note of her daughter’s tray and rests a soft hand on Glimmer’s shoulder. “I thought we agreed on salads for lunch. We spoke about this, Glimmer.”
Glimmer turns as red as the ketchup on her plate. It clashes horribly with her hair. “Mom, I know. I promise, salad for dinner,” she mutters, unable to look at Adora.
The answer pleases Angella, for she pecks her forehead and lets go of her. “Good. Keep an eye on your phone, and call me tonight?”
“Yeah, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me.”
“I will. Bye girls.”
Adora watches after her as she leaves before following Glimmer to where she’d hunkered down at a nearby table. Glimmer angrily stabs a fry in some ketchup before tossing it to the side of her plate. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she warns before taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
“Fair enough. My family can be a lot too,” Adora says, trying to make Glimmer feel better. “Was your dad the guy standing next to Angella this morning.”
“Yeah. I may have mentioned it yesterday, but they run the school and the company. My dad takes a bigger role in the company, and my mom the school. It works out.”
“Must have been cool to grow up around all these ballet dancers. You must have been able to learn so much from them.”
Glimmer nods, swirling a fry around in some ketchup before popping it in her mouth. “Something like that.”
As Adora digs into her grilled cheese, she notices Catra sitting at a table not too far from them. She talks to a girl with platinum hair and she looks… upset. The tall girl attempts to comfort her but Catra moves away. It seems that Madame Weaver’s words really got to her. “Kind of serves her right,” Glimmer notes after following Adora’s gaze.
“What do you mean?”
“Who does she think she is, showing up late on the first day? And breaking the dress code at that! Catra’s just asking to be kicked out,” Glimmer scoffs, taking a bite of her grilled cheese. She chews, mulls it over, and smirks. “Or maybe she just likes attention.”
Glimmer’s words don’t sit well with her. Adora crosses her arms and takes a shaky breath. “Look, I know you and Catra don’t get along. But you didn’t hear what Weaver said to her. It was… way harsh. Harsher than it should be.”
“That’s just how Weaver is.”
“I don’t think so. I’m not saying what Catra did was right, and I’m not going to sit here and make excuses for her. But I’m also not going to sit here and badmouth her.” Adora looks down at her plate. “That’s not who I am. Okay?”
Glimmer reaches for her hand. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Let’s just talk about something else?”
“Yeah.” Adora looks back in Catra’s direction, but the brunette is no longer there. Maybe she’ll talk to her later, see what’s going on. “So, about the Gala thing this weekend… Can you wear jeans to that?”
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The Edge of Greatness
Alright, everyone. Here is the third part to my Beast Island series (Part 1: The Trials of Beast Island, Part 2: Where Do I Go From Here?). It took me a little longer to write this than the other two, but I hope you all enjoy it.
Also, I didn’t put all of my ideas into this fic (because it ended up being really long), so if there are any scenes you’re dying to see, send me an ask and I’ll probably end up writing it.
Summary:
Being back at Bright Moon as an ally rather than an enemy feels strange to Catra. She always thought that if she were ever in Bright Moon again, it would either be as its conqueror or its prisoner. She never expected to be back as a princess joining the Alliance.
Read on AO3.
~
Being back at Bright Moon as an ally rather than an enemy feels strange to Catra. She remembers the Battle of Bright Moon, remembers how easy it was to push any misgivings aside and shoot cannon after cannon at the runestone with the hopes of destroying it and Queen Angella along with it. She remembers the satisfaction of besting She-Ra, the easy way her claws cut into She-Ra’s back, and the disappointment of being beat by the Princess Alliance.
She always thought that if she were ever in Bright Moon again, it would either be as its conqueror or its prisoner.
So, when the guards move aside to allow Scorpia, Adora, and her inside the castle’s gates, it feels strange. The guards look at her with barely concealed disdain, and that’s what Catra expects, but they let her in without complaint.
One does glare at her, and Catra just smirks at him.
Whether she's part of the Rebellion now or not, she's still Catra, and she will show that pastel-wearing soldier she doesn't care what he thinks.
The inside of the castle is just as pink as the outside, and Catra starts to wonder if the color black is forbidden in this part of Etheria. Adora and Scorpia show Catra around, starting with the training grounds and ending in a bedroom that will apparently be Catra’s for the duration of her stay at Bright Moon.
After listening to Scorpia’s well-meaning ramble about how she’s just next door if she needs anything, and Adora mentioning that Catra can come to her with anything, Catra is left alone in her new room.
She flops on the bed and sinks in, and it’s soft, softer than any cot in the Fright Zone or her bed on Beast Island, and even though it’s pink and frilly, even though she’s in a place surrounded by people who hate her, she starts to drift off to the noise of waterfall in the corner.
~*~
Reintroducing herself to the princesses as Princess Catra of Half Moon goes exactly as Catra expects. Even with Adora, Scorpia, and Entrapta vehemently arguing her case, with Bow's support, and with Glimmer begrudgingly ensuring Catra isn’t there to do them any harm, the other princesses are rightfully suspicious of her.
“Are we forgetting that the last time she was in Bright Moon, she was here to destroy the runestone and send Etheria into chaos?” Netossa asks the group, openly glaring at Catra.
“How do we even know she’s even a princess?” Frosta points at Catra sharply, “She could be lying.”
Catra snorts, and she has multiple glares shot her direction.
“Why is that so funny?” Frosta asks angrily, and Catra would feel threatened if Frosta wasn’t a kid.
“I was raised to hate princesses, short stack,” Catra says, and she sees Adora drop her head into her hand in exasperation, “Do you really think I would be pretending to be one just to infiltrate what is obviously a well-run war room meeting?”
Frosta looks like she wants to encase Catra’s head in ice, and Catra just smirks at her, building the tension in the room.
“It’s not a lie,” Scorpia says, placing a claw on Catra’s shoulder, “Catra told me when we went to Beast Island to save her, and she asked me to keep it a secret because she didn't know how to feel since she was raised to hate what she apparently is.”
Catra feels uncomfortable with other people, especially the princesses she spent so long fighting, knowing that small, fragile fact about her, but she knows Scorpia is just trying to get the princesses to realize Catra is here to help. She can’t stop her tail, though, and it flicks angrily behind her.
“We can’t just forget everything she’s done,” Perfuma says, “The attack on Bright Moon aside, her assault on the castle and funneling power to the Black Garnet almost destroyed the Whispering Woods.” A few other princesses add to Perfuma’s list.
Kidnapping Bow and Glimmer.
Infecting She-Ra.
Helping the Horde gain land and take villages.
Catra is sure they could spend the next hour listing, but when Adora stands, everyone immediately stops talking and looks at her.
Everyone besides Catra, who looks down at her lap.
“I don’t expect you all to forget what she’s done in the past,” Adora’s says, voice authoritative but understanding, ever the leader, “You don’t have to forgive her either, but the Princess Alliance is stronger with her than without her, and if we’re going to defeat the Horde, we’re going to need her.”
Adora doesn’t get a response from them, so she looks to Angella, “Now, can we please discuss taking back some of the villages the Horde has acquired along the outer edge of the kingdom?”
Angella nods, “I think that would be best. Thank you, Adora.”
Adora sits as the general beside Angella starts talking about the Horde’s occupation of the villages.
Catra takes a chance and looks up and sees Adora smiling at her from her spot in between Bow and Glimmer. Catra smiles back, and it feels like someone throws a log on the embers, her feelings that were easily forgettable making themselves known again.
Her mind is flooded with the memory of her kissing Adora as princesses start proposing ideas for driving Horde soldiers back, and Catra should be helping, is the best person here to explain Horde strategy and successful tactics, but Catra can’t stop thinking about whether she should even bring up the kiss.
She’s been at Bright Moon for a week now. She’s seen Adora almost every day, and they fell back into their friendship easily now that Catra has worked through a fair amount of her resentment and feelings of being second best.
They’ve sparred and lost themselves in the castle, but neither one of them has brought up that one kiss amongst the trees.
Catra wonders if she should be the one to bring it up, but she initiated the kiss, so isn’t it Adora’s turn to take the chance?
She’s thinking so deeply that she doesn’t realize she’s been asked a direct question until Scorpia nudges her, and she finds herself absentmindedly explaining Horde soldier formations and weaponry after asking for the general to repeat herself.
She pays attention throughout the rest of the meeting, but every time she looks over at Adora, those barely-dormant thoughts resurface.
~*~
The trees in the Whispering Woods aren’t nearly as tall as the trees on Beast Island, but Catra still feels content up on the highest branch, laid out with her eyes closed against the bright sunlight.
The woods are quiet, save for the buzzing sounds of insects and the rustling of different creatures, and if Catra keeps her eyes shut, she’s back on Beast Island with her people, away from the drama of princesses and wars and an entire kingdom of people who despise her.
The smells aren’t quite right, though. Catra’s nose is filled with the floral scent of flowers and the soft smell of dew, and it’s just wrong enough that it feels wrong.
Catra opens her eyes and sits up, pulling herself up to see past the leaves and over the entire forest. This high up, she can see the start of the smog that covers the Fright Zone, the orange barely marring Bright Moon’s pale blue sky.
She starts wondering what it would be like if she left.
Would she be put into a prison cell, or would Hordak forgive her and allow her back into the ranks?
Would she be able to go back to being second-in-command?
God, even being a cadet sounds better than kissing up to princesses every day, Catra finds herself thinking, and even though she shouldn’t, it’s true. Being a cadet is easy. You wake up, you train, you take classes about Horde history and battle strategy, you eat lunch, you train some more, you eat dinner, and then you fall exhausted into bed. It’s an easy routine, meant to get soldiers used to the routine of being out on the battlefield.
Catra starts to miss the power that she felt as second-in-command too. It was only for a short time, and it was incredibly stressful, but it was everything she had worked towards.
Everything she never would have achieved if Adora had stayed.
She defied every thought people had about her. She rose through the ranks quicker than anyone else.
And the first moment she messed up, Hordak almost killed her before banishing her.
Catra sighs.
I really don’t belong anywhere, do I?
Catra never belonged with the Horde. She was a Magicat stolen from her people and used as collateral. No matter what she did, she was never good enough.
She doesn’t belong in Bright Moon either. Compared to the other princesses, Catra sticks out like a sore thumb. She never seems to say the right thing, and even giving them information about the Horde just reminds everyone where she came from, and she doesn’t have the mythical She-Ra to gain instant approval.
The only place she felt like she kind of belonged was Beast Island, and she can’t go back yet. She needs to take back Half Moon first. She needs to do this one thing for her people before she can face them again.
Catra slumps, leaves rustling around her.
Why do I even try?
Deep in her wallowing, Catra doesn’t hear the footsteps until they’re almost right underneath her tree.
“Wildcat?” a voice calls.
Catra smiles, and she’s happy Scorpia can’t see her, because she would never hear the end of it.
“Wildcat, are you here?”
Catra goes down a few branches until she can see the red of Scorpia’s outfit. The rustling draws Scorpia’s attention upwards, and she smiles at the sight of her best friend.
“There you are! I saw you leave the castle earlier, and I figured I’d give you some time, but it’s been a while now.”
Catra stretches out lazily along the branch, her tail flicking ever so slightly with the feigned indifference she put on around other people. “Yeah, well,” she says, sounding bored, “One more moment around those princesses and I might end up clawing my eyes out.”
“Oh, they’re not that bad,” Scorpia sits on the forest floor and leans back on her hands so she doesn’t have to crane her neck up so much, “I’ve become friends with almost all of them!” Scorpia then looks down for a second, and Catra finds it amusing how Scorpia’s face can go from sunshine-like happiness to pondering in two seconds flat. “Well, almost all of them,” she amends, “Mermista doesn’t seem like she’s a fan of anyone.”
“I don’t really have your personality, Scorpia.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have to,” Scorpia insists, “They should like you for you.”
Catra snorts, “I think most of them just think I’m intolerable.”
“That’s because they don’t know you like I do,” then Scorpia raises her brows a few times, “Or how Adora knows you.”
Catra cannot believe Scorpia just made that joke, and she finds her cheeks warming at the thought of Adora.
“What exactly are you insinuating?”
Scorpia pretends to inspect her claw, but Catra knows she isn’t going to find any blemishes or dents. Scorpia just buffed them a few days ago, so her claws are perfectly smooth and blemish-free.
“Oh nothing,” Scorpia says breezily, far more breezily than Catra has ever heard her, “Just, you know, I’ve noticed that Adora tends to watch you during meetings, and she was adamant that she come along to pick you up from Beast Island even though I assured her Sea Hawk and I would be fine.” Scorpia looks up at Catra then with her usual wide smile. “She’s also always smiling when she’s around you.”
“Well, yeah, she’s my friend,” Catra mutters, “And with the whole me-hating-her-after-she-left thing, and then the whole me-getting-revenge-on-her-since-she-left-me thing, and, well, six months of me living on Beast Island, we’re just making up for lost time.”
“Whatever you say, Wildcat.”
Catra curls up on the branch, starting to feel a little insecure, and she hears Scorpia start to hum some tune to herself below.
She knows what Scorpia’s doing, and apparently it doesn’t need reassurances and a scratchy blue blanket to work.
“We kissed,” Catra spits out, “When you guys left Beast Island. I took her into the forest and told her I was a princess and then I kissed her, okay?”
Scorpia just smiles, and Catra’s tail flicks a few times in annoyance.
“What?”
“I knew it.”
“What?” Catra starts wondering if Scorpia saw them, or if she somehow let it slip some other time without realizing it, but the forest was completely silent around them, and there’s no way Catra would let that slip, even accidentally.
“Well yeah,” Scorpia says, “You’re not exactly subtle with your show of emotions. Now come down here so I can give you a hug!”
“I’m never coming down.”
“I could climb up there.”
“Scorpia, no.”
Scorpia stands and comes over to the trunk of the tree.
Catra glares at her, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“There’s an easy way and a hard way out of this, Wildcat,” Scorpia says, “It’s your choice.”
After a few moments, Catra decides to climb down and gets pulled into a bone crushing hug, and even though Catra will claim she hates it, really, she likes the blatantly obvious show of affection.
All of her thoughts from earlier, ridiculous thoughts about running back to the Fright Zone and rejoining the Horde, vanish as they walk back to Bright Moon castle, Scorpia telling Catra all about her morning.
Because everyone here may despise her, but she’s got a few great people on her side.
~*~
The library in Bright Moon’s castle is almost triple the size of Beast Island’s small collection, and Catra finds herself there whenever she has a free moment.
She finds that the quiet there just isn’t the same. There’s no Felix to find a book for her, or Magicat scholars walking quietly through the stacks, but it’s the closest she gets to feeling that same contentment.
She’s looking through the collection on previous Etherian wars when a voice spoke behind her.
“Adora mentioned I might find you here.”
Catra turns, and none other than Queen Angella herself stood watching Catra, her arms crossed and her translucent wings pulled close to her body.
Catra grips the book she’s holding close to her chest, feeling slightly nervous, but she can’t hold back the snarky comment of, “Are you going to throw me in a cell for perusing the stacks?”
She isn’t sure, but she swears she sees the corner of Angella’s lips twitch up in the attempt of a smile. “The library is open to all members of the Rebellion. Also,” Angella does smile this time, “Taking a book without asking is not punishable by jail time.”
“There’s probably some sort of fine, though.”
“Well, of course there is a fine.” Angella rolls her eyes, but it’s affectionate in the same way she would around Glimmer or Adora, and Catra doesn’t know how to take that.
“Did you come find me to talk about book fines?”
“No,” Angella’s smile dropped into a sincere look, “I wanted to ask how you were adjusting to being here in Bright Moon.”
“Why do you care?” Catra doesn’t mean for it to come out hostile, but she doesn’t feel like she should be getting this sincere worry about her wellbeing from the woman she once fired cannons at.
“Because I know Adora had trouble adjusting when she first got here,” Angella says, ignoring Catra’s hostility, “And I just wanted to make sure you got the same support she did.”
“I’m fine.”
Angella doesn’t look like she believes Catra, but she doesn’t say otherwise. “Okay. Please let me or someone else know if there’s anything you need.”
Catra nods, and before she can turn back to the shelf behind her, Angella says, “And Catra?”
“Yeah?”
That same smile from earlier is back. “Whether it seems like it or not, we’re happy to have you here. At the very least, I know Adora is happy you’re here.”
Angella leaves the library, and Catra turns back around, feeling her own small smile pulling at her lips.
~*~
Shadows fill Catra’s dream, and she tries running, but red magic seeps around her before she has the chance. She’s frozen to the spot, and Shadow Weaver appears out of the darkness.
“Catra,” Shadow Weaver says with disgust in her voice, “I will not tolerate disrespect, is that clear?”
The magic releases Catra just for Shadow Weaver to grab her face roughly, making Catra look up at her emotionless mask. “I said, is that clear?”
Catra nods, and she barely has time to think before Shadow Weaver throws Catra away from her. Catra’s back hits the wall with a loud crack, and she crumbles to the floor, her lungs trying desperately to take in air after the blow.
“Leave,” Shadow Weaver says, and when Catra can’t get up, Shadow Weaver throws her from the room.
Catra shoots up in bed, and without thinking, without even realizing what she’s doing, she gets out of bed and goes down the hall.
“I’m just right here if you need me,” Adora’s voice echoes in her head from her first day in Bright Moon, and Catra promised herself she wouldn’t bother Adora, but that nightmare felt so real, and Catra feels herself drawn to old comforts.
Adora is sound asleep in her bed, and Catra remembers laughing at Adora when Adora showed Catra her room.
“Really?” Catra said, “You leave the Fright Zone and specifically ask for a horribly uncomfortable bed?”
Adora shoved Catra playfully, “I couldn’t sleep, okay? After seventeen years of sleeping in the bunks, Bright Moon’s beds were too comfortable.”
Catra shakes Adora’s shoulder, and she’s happy that the nightmare heightened her anxiety, because Adora quickly draws a dagger from underneath her pillow, and Catra barely has enough time to jump out of its range.
“What the hell?” Catra hisses, pulling into a fighting stance on instinct.
“Catra?” Adora asks, dropping the dagger back to the bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“You sleep with a dagger under your pillow?” Catra asks incredulously, “You literally sleep with She-Ra’s sword within grabbing distance!”
“She-Ra’s sword is too big to grab quickly,” Adora says around a yawn, “And it makes the pillow lumpy.”
Catra rolls her eyes and falls out of her stance, “How many people have you almost stabbed?”
“Glimmer on a few occasions,” Adora moves so that she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, “Bow refuses to be the one to wake me up anymore. There was also this one time that Mermista thought it would be funny to mess with me, and she didn’t talk to me for a week after that.” Adora looks up and sees that while Catra isn’t in a fighting stance anymore, she still seems tense, her tail flicking anxiously. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just—” Catra doesn’t know how to say why she’s standing in Adora’s room.
I had a nightmare, and we’re back around each other, and my body moved before I could even think, and now here I am, almost getting stabbed by the dagger you keep under your pillow because I want you to comfort me just like you would do when we were still in the Fright Zone.
No, that won’t do, Catra thinks.
Adora seems to understand without Catra explaining, and she lays back down again, holding the blanket up for Catra in a silent invitation.
Catra lays down beside her.
Adora gives Catra as much space as she can and slips the dagger back under her pillow.
“I thought we’re safe here,” Catra says, scooting closer and hoping that if she gets closer, Adora will do what they used to do when they were kids.
“We are,” Adora’s fingers start running over Catra’s ear, drawing small, barely-there purrs from Catra’s chest, “I guess I’m just paranoid, and it’s not like Bright Moon is impenetrable.”
“That’s comforting,” Catra murmurs, her eyes closing and the anxiety melting away with Adora’s voice and her fingers running along Catra’s fur.
“It’s just realistic,” Adora whispers, and her fingers stop running over Catra’s ear and tangles in her hair, her nails running gently over Catra’s scalp, “Shadow Weaver was able to get in undetected.”
Catra goes stiff, the mention of their previous mentor reminding her of her nightmare.
The nightmare probably spurred by Adora telling Catra earlier that Shadow Weaver was being held in Bright Moon’s prison.
“Sorry,” Adora’s hand pulls away, “That probably didn’t help.”
Catra catches Adora’s wrist and pulls it back, silently asking Adora to keep running her fingers through Catra’s hair, and Adora listening, her fingers going back to the same spot they pulled away from.
“I promise you’re safe,” Adora assures Catra, “She can’t get to you.”
Theoretically, Catra knows that. Adora explained how the sorcerers from Mystacor were holding her, how there was no chance for Shadow Weaver to escape, but Catra can only focus on how close she is, how she’s just a few stories beneath her, the closest she’s been since she used Catra to escape.
“I need to see her.”
Adora pulls away, her eyes wide in shock, “Catra, are you—”
“I need to see that she can’t hurt me,” Catra cuts Adora off, “I need to see that she’s stuck down there.”
Adora doesn’t say anything for a moment, then, softly, she says, “Okay. We’ll ask Queen Angella tomorrow.”
~*~
Catra stands outside the door down to the prison and kicks herself for hesitating. Adora watches her nervously.
“I can go down there with you,” Adora says softly, a hand coming up to rest on Catra’s shoulder, “You don’t need to do this alone.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve visited Shadow Weaver in a cell.”
Adora’s hand runs up and down Catra’s arm, and Catra can see what’s going through Adora’s mind.
It’s the first time she’s seeing Shadow Weaver since Shadow Weaver used her to escape.
The only time Shadow Weaver laid a hand on her without violence.
The first time she thought she was finally good enough in the eyes of the woman who raised her.
Catra thinks of her parents, her real parents, still back on Beast Island. She thinks of Felix picking books out for her and C’yra’s easy teasing. She thinks of quiet days spent drawing while Felix flipped through pages beside her and mornings out on the training grounds with C’yra, trying so hard to win their sparring match.
Shadow Weaver may have raised her, but C’yra and Felix are her parents, and they spent the six months she spent of Beast Island helping her see that everything Shadow Weaver did to her wasn’t love.
It was abuse and manipulation, the only things Shadow Weaver knows how to do.
Catra wraps her tail around Adora’s wrist, “Did you do it alone?”
“I did,” Adora says, smiling down at her wrist for just a second, “Bow and Glimmer stayed upstairs in case I needed them.”
“So, stay up here for me,” Catra says, “I’ll call if I need you.”
Adora nods, and Catra pushes the door open without any hesitation.
Shadow Weaver’s cell isn’t hard to find. It’s the cell surrounded by a ball of magic with sorcerers on either side as guards. They watch Catra carefully, and she hands them an order from Queen Angella that Catra is to be left alone while talking to Shadow Weaver.
They leave without much argument, though one throws Catra a worried look that could rival Adora’s.
“I was wondering just how long it would take for you to come down and see me,” a voice, the same voice Catra hears in her worst nightmares, drawls from the cell, “I had heard whispers that you defected. I do have to say, I’m disappointed.”
Catra surprises herself by not freezing when she sees Shadow Weaver curled up in her cell. Adora told her that they don’t expect her to stay alive very long without any magic to feed off of, and it shows. Shadow Weaver looks like a slight breeze could carry her away, and Catra can barely fathom that the woman who felt so imposing and terrifying growing up could be the same woman in front of her.
It makes her sad and angry. Sad because there’s still a part of her, a low, hidden spot, that still wants to help Shadow Weaver, and angry because she shouldn’t feel that way about the woman who threw her into the isolation chamber without a second thought.
“You know I enjoy seeing you in a cell,” Catra says, sitting down in front of the bars.
“Oh yes, but sadly this time, it’s not you who put me here.”
Catra flicks her tail against the ball of magic, and she expects it to zap her like the Black Garnet did, but she just felt a pleasant warmth against her fur.
“You’re right,” Catra says, trying to sound disinterested, “Adora did this time.”
“Just like always, Adora has to correct your mistakes.”
Catra can’t help the spiral at first. Thoughts of Adora fixing her messes in the Fright Zone come to mind, and the anger that she’s spent so long trying to understand and rectify flares up.
“Insolent child…”
“Adora, you must do a better job of keeping her under control.”
“You’re just Adora’s little pet.”
Catra shakes her head and finds herself again. She’s not mad at Adora, and she’s not mad at herself. Adora was manipulated just as much as I was,Catra thinks, just because one abuse is different than the other doesn’t make it more or less destructive.
“Do you try manipulating the sorcerers who guard you like this, or do you keep this pent up until Adora or I come down here?”
Shadow Weaver laughs, and it sends a chill down Catra’s spine.
“Has the Rebellion realized just how useless you are to them yet?” Shadow Weaver asks, “They’re only keeping you around, letting you pretend to be one of them, because Adora never really let go of that soft spot she has for you.”
She’s wrong, Catra chants to herself, I’m not just here because of Adora. I’m here because I have worth.
Catra starts to falter on that, though. She knows Shadow Weaver is messing with her head. She knows she shouldn’t listen, but she doesn’t know how to block out all the insecurities Shadow Weaver drags up.
“You’re wrong,” Catra says out loud this time, her eyes clamping shut, hoping that if she can’t see Shadow Weaver, it’ll be easier to fend off her manipulation. Her voice falters though, and she knows that Shadow Weaver has gotten into her head.
Maybe she should’ve waited longer.
Maybe she should’ve never come down here at all.
“Whenever they’re done with you, they’ll throw you in a cell and leave you to rot, just like me.”
Catra doesn’t respond. She feels helplessness build up inside of her, just like when she came back to Shadow Weaver’s cell and found it empty, and she wants to lash out, but there’s nothing to lash out at, nowhere to direct her anger, so she runs. She runs away from Shadow Weaver and her taunts and back up the stairs, past the two sorcerers and Adora, who shouts Catra’s name after her.
~*~
There are no trees to climb in Bright Moon castle, so Catra climbs the bricks up to the roof. The climb is easy, like the architects knew that one day Catra would need somewhere to escape. Her claws catch the lip of the bricks perfectly, and it isn’t like climbing the trees on Beast Island, but it’s something.
She collapses against the shingles of the roof and looks up at Bright Moon’s perfect pastel sky with white, fluffy clouds drifting past.
I don’t belong here, Catra thinks, closing her eyes against the sunlight, Why did I even come here?
She knows the answer. She isn’t dumb, even though some people might think so.
Catra knows that she came to Bright Moon for her people, to take back the city that was taken from them all those years ago when the Horde took her as well, but that’s not the only reason.
She thinks about how it was so easy to figure out her feelings on Beast Island, so far away from the Horde and the Rebellion and a need to choose to be good or evil. Now, surrounded by princesses who still don’t fully trust her and people who look at her like they’re waiting for her to mess up, Catra just feels so unsure.
About herself.
About coming to Bright Moon.
About Adora.
And she thought she had it all figured out. Everything felt so easy when she kissed Adora on Beast Island all those months ago. For such a short amount of time, they were just Catra and Adora again, no betrayal, not She-Ra or Princess of Half Moon. They were just two girls hidden in the trees sharing something that always seemed to simmer beneath all of their interactions.
They still haven’t talked about it. It’s been weeks since Catra came to Bright Moon, and neither of them have brought it up. Catra doesn’t even know how to bring it up.
“Hey, remember that one time I kissed you on Beast Island? Want to do it again?”
That doesn’t even cover a fraction of it. It doesn’t cover how, whenever Catra finds herself daydreaming, she’s thinking of kissing Adora in different places around the castle. It doesn’t cover the fact that in the few kisses Catra had stolen in her life, that kiss was better than all of them combined.
It doesn’t cover the feelings she has for Adora, the ones she recently realized were probably there since they were kids.
Catra wants to go back to that moment. She wants to forget all of her responsibilities to the Princess Alliance and the Rebellion and escape back to the short time when she didn’t feel like the world was against her.
Catra hears the sound of metal hitting the roof and hooking in, and she smiles to herself, remembering a time that felt like it happened centuries ago.
Adora could never climb buildings like she could, Catra’s claws giving her an advantage, so she always used her grappling hook to find Catra at the tallest points of the Fright Zone.
She sits up just as Adora pulls herself onto the roof.
Catra remembers poking fun at Adora when they were younger about how long it took Adora to climb after her, jeering, “How does it feel to be the world’s slowest person?” as Adora tried swinging her way through the rafters too.
“You know,” Adora says, “There are better, more accessible places to run to that aren’t the roof of the castle.”
Catra unsheathes her claws with a smirk, “Climbing has never really been an issue for me.”
Adora comes over to Catra and collapses beside her with a groan. “I know, but it would really make it so much easier for me to follow you if you chose your room or someplace reachable by stairs.”
“I’ll keep your preferences in mind next time.”
“That’s all I ask.”
They’re silent for a few moments, Catra watching Adora, before Adora sits up and scoots just a fraction closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Catra pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her tails around herself. “I don’t know what I expected. She’s always going to be a horrible, manipulative bitch, isn’t she?”
“I don’t see her changing anytime soon,” Adora admits, “Right after I left the Horde, she used her shadows to follow me to Mystacor and told me about how I could never be great without her. She said the princesses would never accept me, that they would cast me aside just like they did to her,” Adora rests back on her hands and looks up at the sky, “She told me I was nothing without her.”
Catra sighs, “She really did a number on us, huh?”
Adora breathes out a laugh, “One time, Glimmer pushed some hair out of my face, and all I could see was Shadow Weaver doing the same thing that day she caught us in her room. I completely panicked and ran.”
Catra looks over and sees Adora still looking up at the sky, the sunlight making her hair almost glow. “C’yra tried comforting me once, and she put her hand on the side of my face. It’s what Shadow Weaver did the time she—” Catra cuts herself off, unable to say anything else. Adora already knows anyway. “It was such a nice moment until then, and I lashed out and cut her before running away.”
Adora grabs Catra’s hand and catches her gaze, holding it as she says, “We have people now who are willing to help us.”
“I don’t want her to have this power over me anymore,” Catra whispers, closing her eyes and hoping that tears don’t fall.
“She doesn’t,” Adora insists, “She’s going to rot in that cell.”
“And we’re still going to be messed up,” Catra says angrily, “We’re still going to have nightmares and flashes and all of these things that we have to deal with, and knowing she’s going to die in that cell doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t make me feel any safer, and it doesn’t stop my mind from taking me back to those moments whether I want to or not.”
Adora hugs her, and Catra wants to fight it. She wants to lash out and hiss and get away, but Adora holding her tightly makes her feel the most secure that she’s felt all day. She melts into Adora’s hold and the anger calms back to a simmer.
“You’re right,” Adora says against Catra’s hair, “Nothing can take away what she did to us. We may never really feel safe and secure, even when she’s dead, but I refuse to let you handle this on your own, okay?”
Catra nuzzles into Adora’s neck and whispers, “I’m here for you too.”
“Good,” Catra can almost feel Adora smile, “We can be messed up together then.”
Catra smiles too, just barely, but she doesn’t respond. They fall back into a comfortable silence, Adora still holding Catra close, and they stay up there until the blue sky fades into the pink, purples, and oranges of sunset.
~*~
Catra decides to wait before bringing up her plan to take Half Moon back from the Horde. She waits until more of the princesses warm up to her, waits for the Rebellion to gain a significant advantage, before bringing it up.
The perfect moment presents itself in a war room meeting one day.
A majority of the meeting talked about how the Rebellion gained back villages along the Fright Zone’s eastern border, partly thanks to Catra’s knowledge of Force Captain placements and Entrapta’s ability to hack into the Horde’s technology.
Everyone is in a good mood, and Catra even gets a few approving glances, so she figures now is as good of a time as any.
“I want to take back Half Moon,” Catra spits out, and everyone turns to her.
She chooses to continue before anyone can state their opinions.
“According to all of the maps in Bright Moon, it sits along the Fright Zone’s eastern border as well, and if we took it back, that means the Magicats would be able to return. They could aid in the war, and the Rebellion would have one more stronghold.”
Nobody says anything. Everyone just keeps staring. Most of them look surprised, but she sees a small smile on Adora’s lips, and Scorpia is looking at her with something like pride.
It’s Queen Angella who breaks the silence. “How do you propose we do that?”
“It would be easy,” Catra responds, laying out the plan she’s spent hours formulating in Bright Moon’s library, “Nobody in the Rebellion has been to Half Moon since its siege, so I’ll take a small group. We’ll observe at first. I assume there won’t be any soldiers there, because Half Moon was never an outpost I heard of when I was second-in-command, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. From there, it’s all about keeping Half Moon under Rebellion control until the Magicats can return from Beast Island to take back their land.”
Queen Angella nods, “And what’s stopping the Horde from retaking the land once the Magicats resettle?”
Catra looks around the room, at the princesses she’s come to understand and respect.
Mermista smirks and nods, like she knows what Catra is thinking and is showing her support.
Perfuma nods too, followed by Spinerella and Netossa.
Bow gives her a thumbs up, his smile wide.
Entrapta doesn’t look up from the tablet she’s messing with, but her hair brushes Catra’s shoulder, and Scorpia nudges her gently.
Frosta shrugs and turns to Glimmer for an answer, and Glimmer says, “Princess Catra is a part of the Princess Alliance. If the Horde threatens Half Moon again, the Rebellion will provide support.”
“We won’t allow Half Moon to fall under Horde control again,” Adora promises, and she looks right at Catra as she says it, her smile reassuring.
Catra feels a blush rise to her cheeks, and she’s happy that her fur covers it.
“Very well,” Queen Angella smiles at her daughter and Adora, pride obvious on her features, before turning to Catra, “The Rebellion is taking back Half Moon.”
~*~
“Are you sure you don’t need me?” Adora asks for the third time, and Catra rolls her eyes as she throws some clothes into a bag.
“You’re needed here,” Catra says, “Scorpia, Entrapta, and I can handle it.”
“What if you run into trouble?” Worry starts seeping into Adora’s voice, “What if there are Horde soldiers there?”
“Then we’ll send a letter asking for backup,” Catra sets her bag in her desk chair, ready to grab before she leaves in the morning, and walks over to sit on her bed next to Adora, “Why are you freaking out so much? This isn’t the first time I’ve been on a mission.”
“I know,” Adora looks down at her hands wringing themselves in her lap, “I’m just worried.”
Catra wraps her tail around Adora’s wrist, still her hands, and Adora looks up at Catra looking at her with a smirk.
“Aw, it’s like you care about me,” Catra jokes, “Keep talking like that and I might let it get to my head.”
Adora tackles Catra to the bed, and Catra flips them easily, pinning Adora into the soft cushions.
“I think you’ve gotten slower since coming to Bright Moon,” Catra teases, “I mean, at least try and fight back.”
Adora swats at Catra’s hands on her shoulders, throwing her off-balance just long enough that Adora can flip them and pin Catra down.
Adora smirks, “Who’s not trying now?”
Catra scoffs, “I let you do that. Wouldn’t want to hurt She-Ra’s precious feelings, now would we?”
“Whatever you say, Catra.”
Catra tries to get the advantage again, but it’s no use. She’s never been stronger than Adora.
Then, almost at the same time, they both realize the position they’re in.
Adora is straddling Catra, her hands holding Catra’s wrists to the bed, and she’s so close that Catra can hear Adora’s breath hitch just slightly.
They’re closer than they’ve been since Catra came to Bright Moon, and everything seems to freeze. Neither one of them pull back, but they don’t move forward either. They’re suspended, each of them waiting for the other to act first.
And Adora does. Adora releases Catra’s wrists, cups her face, and pulls her up.
Catra doesn’t have a moment to think before Adora is kissing her, and Catra’s arms go around Adora’s waist, pulling her against Catra and back down into the bed.
This kiss is so much different than the one they shared on Beast Island. It isn’t rushed. There’s no threat of anyone coming to find them.
It’s just the two of them in the quiet of Catra’s room.
They should talk about this, about their first kiss, about this one, about what they mean, but Catra isn’t sure she can pull away. Adora’s lips move against hers like they’ve done this a thousand times, and Adora is so warm, so inviting, so soft.
Nothing, not even a full-blown battle outside, can pull Catra away from Adora right now.
Adora sinks her teeth into Catra’s bottom lip and pulls, and Catra gasps, fisting her fingers into Adora’s jacket. Catra can practically feel Adora smirk against her short fur as Adora starts trailing kisses down Catra’s jaw to her neck.
“Shut up,” Catra breathes out.
“I didn’t say anything,” Adora says between a few small kisses against Catra’s throat.
“You were thinking it,” Catra starts purring softly as Adora finds a particularly sensitive spot.
Adora pulls away and smiles down at a definitely-flustered Catra. “You can read minds now?”
“Duh,” Catra rolls her eyes and smiles.
Adora laughs and runs a finger lightly along the column of Catra’s neck.
And just like that, they fall out of their moment, and unlike their last kiss, there’s no Bow and Glimmer to pull Adora away. There’s nothing calling their attention.
There’s nothing to distract them from what just happened.
“So,” Adora draws out, “We have a habit of kissing before one of us has to leave.”
Catra snorts, “If I knew leaving would make you kiss me, I would’ve brought up taking back Half Moon ages ago.”
Adora’s eyes go wide. “Really?”
“Of course, dummy.” Despite the teasing in her voice, Catra smiles. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you since I got here.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I kissed you the first time,” Catra brings her hand up to run her thumb along Adora’s bottom lip, “I thought it was only fair that you be the one to bring it up.”
“Is there some rule that states that?”
Catra shrugs, “I don’t know.”
“Then how was I supposed to know?” Adora asks incredulously.
“Hasn’t living in Bright Moon taught you anything?”
“I mean, I’ve read a few books.”
Catra starts to snicker, and Adora rolls her eyes.
“You can’t laugh at me for reading books when you spend all of your free time in the library.”
“I read about history and strategy, not romance.” Catra sticks out her tongue on the last word.
Adora raises her eyebrows, “You’re lying.”
“Am not.”
“Are too!”
They start wrestling again, and Catra finds that it’s hard to try and gain any sort of advantage from her impossibly soft and cushy bed. It makes pushing up against Adora more difficult when she keeps sinking further in, and even though she tries squirming under Adora to throw her off, it doesn’t work.
“Maybe living in Bright Moon has made you slower,” Adora teases, “You’re usually better than this, Catra.”
“It’s this damn bed!” Catra stops fighting it and just sinks down. She grabs Adora and pulls her down too, because if she’s going to be stuck in her bed, she’s going to bring Adora down with her.
Adora puts up a fight though. “Admit you read romances.”
“No.”
“Admit it, Catra!”
“Never!”
With one strong tug, Adora falls against Catra, and the two start laughing.
I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been, Catra thinks as Adora pressing her face into Catra’s neck, her laughter dissolving into giggles.
Their laughter and giggles die down, but Adora doesn’t move. She stays lying on top of Catra, and they fall into a comfortable silence, Adora’s fingers coming to play with the hair at the base of Catra’s head and Catra’s hand running over Adora’s back. Catra starts purring again, the soft rumble the only noise besides the waterfall in the corner.
“I missed you,” Adora whispers, barely breaking the silence.
“I missed you too,” Catra responds, “I tried to pretend like I didn’t for so long, but I did.”
“I’m so sorry for leaving you.”
Catra pulls Adora closer, “I’m sorry for not coming along with you.”
“We should have left a lot sooner.”
“It might’ve saved us a lot of heartache.”
Adora pulls herself up just enough so that she can kiss Catra again, and it’s soft and slow and sweet. They both melt into it, and Catra makes a little displeased noise when Adora pulls away.
“Are you totally sure you don’t need me to go to Half Moon with you?” Adora asks again, and Catra breathes out a laugh.
“I promise.”
Adora pouts slightly, and Catra is convinced it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Catra reassures Adora, “And when I get back, we can talk about all this.”
“Can we keep kissing now, though?”
“Definitely,” Catra starts pulling a smiling Adora down again, “We can certainly keep kissing now.”
~*~
Half Moon is eerily quiet when Catra, Scorpia, and Entrapta find their way into the city, Emily clanking softly as she follows them. Just like Catra thought, there aren’t any patrols or Horde soldiers lurking about.
There’s no sign of life anywhere.
“Stay close,” Catra whispers, “There doesn’t seem to be any enemies, but they could be hiding.”
They stop in front of a statue right in front of the castle, and Catra recognizes the Magicat as Queen Hecate, the founder of Half Moon after years of living as nomads. She holds her sword up to the sky, her shield in a defensive position and her stance like she’s ready to attack.
“She is very impressive,” Entrapta says, already raising herself up on her hair to get a better look, “A warrior, obviously.”
“All Magicats are warriors,” Catra tells her, “They begin training at a young age.”
Entrapta’s eyes light up. “Oh, that’s fascinating. I would like to learn more about your species.”
Catra rolls her eyes, “Maybe another time, Brainiac.”
“I will wait for this other time. I would also like to take samples.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
They split up to look around the town square, Scorpia going over to look at abandoned stalls while Entrapta tries to look for any technology left behind, either by the Magicats or the Horde after the invasion.
Catra makes sure they’re both in her periphery as she moved up to the castle. On either side of the stairs that lead up to the main entrance, there are piles of wood blackened by fire.
Funeral pyres.
She’s so focused on them, so focused on the amount of Magicats that lost their lives at the Battle of Half Moon, that Catra doesn’t hear Scorpia come up beside her.
“Everything okay?”
“What?” Catra pulls her eyes from the pyres and looks up at Scorpia before shaking her head a bit to clear it. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Want to grab Entrapta and go into the castle?”
Their footsteps echo throughout the empty castle, and they stop in a few random rooms before they find the throne room.
Catra smiles slightly.
“I always hated the throne room,” C’yra had told her, “but it’s where you took your first steps, actually.”
Catra tries imagining her younger self in here, so small and curious, pulling herself up and taking her first steps to her mother.
“Emily has finished her scan of the area,” Entrapta informs them, looking down at her tablet, “It would appear that we are the only living things here.”
Scorpia turns to Catra and pulls her into a hug, “That means the Magicats can come back!”
Catra pushes away halfheartedly, but she’s smiling as she says, “Yeah, they can.”
~*~
Determining Half Moon’s safety was easy. Trying to move all of the Magicats from Beast Island without the Horde noticing? Not so much.
Catra finds herself constantly writing letter back and forth with Queen Angella and the rest of the Alliance concerning logistics.
She writes a letter personally to Mermista asking to use Salineas’ fleet of ships to help with transport, and the response she receives is a bored and disaffected, “Fine, I guess,” and an order that Sea Hawk is not allowed to be left in charge with the explanation of, "I would like it if my ships came back fully intact."
“Dust would be best,” Catra suggests to Queen Angella, “Or nighttime. If the Horde is even watching the island, their technology probably won’t have night vision. It would allow the Rebellion to get in and out undetected.”
Catra suggests dropping the Magicats in Bright Moon to Adora, since Bright Moon is the closest, and they would be able to make the walk in a day or two, depending on how weighed down they are. Adora’s response is incredible formal, stating that Swift Wind would also be able to take those who are older who wouldn’t be able to make the trip as easily, but there’s a little bit at the bottom, a small P.S. that reads, “I miss you.”
The best letter Catra gets to write is to C’yra and Felix, and she tries to keep it mostly formal. She tells them about the plans the Rebellion are making to help the Magicats return, all of the logistics, and the promise from the Rebellion to help the Magicats if the Horde ever decides to invade again.
She ends the letter by saying, “You’ll get back a little of what the Horde has taken from you,” before signing her name and sending it off.
The rest of her time is spent exploring more of Half Moon with Scorpia and Entrapta and cleaning up as much as they can from the battle. Entrapta talks about helping the Magicats install technology as soon as they arrive, and Scorpia rambles on happily about seeing everyone she met again.
Catra just feels happy, because for once, she’s righting something the Horde did. The Horde tore the Magicats away from their land, and Catra gets to be the one who returns it.
~*~
The Magicats arrive at Half Moon without any issue, and C’yra and Felix pull Catra into a tight hug that Catra doesn’t even know she needs.
“Aw, did you miss us, kitten?” C’yra teases, pulling away from the hug just enough to ruffle Catra’s already messy hair.
Catra scoffs. “As if. I just didn’t want to help all of the Magicats back to Half Moon all on my own.”
“We’re proud of you, Catra,” Felix says, ignoring their banter and teasing to say something heartfelt and sincere.
“Unbelievably so,” C’yra adds on with one of her rare genuine smiles, “You gave the Magicats something they lost.”
“Well, I’m their princess,” Catra says, feeling uncharacteristically shy, “Isn’t that what princesses are supposed to do?”
“It doesn’t mean we’re any less proud,” Felix says with a smile, before his eyes go wide and he says, “Oh my gods, the library. I have to go make sure everything is still there.”
Before Catra can assure him that she already checked it and it seemed untouched, Felix pressed a quick kiss to his wife’s lips and one to Catra’s cheek before running off, saying something to some of the scholars carrying boxes before rushing into the castle.
“We’re not going to see him for a week,” C’yra jokes.
“Probably a month,” Catra adds.
“He’s going to catalogue everything on his own.”
“Why did you marry him again?”
C’yra smirks, “He’s good looking.”
“Ew. Mom,” Catra sticks out her tongue, “Gross.”
“You asked, kitten.”
“I already regret it.”
A container is put in front of Catra and she turns around to see Pisica offering her something that smells delicious.
“Oh, I’ve missed these,” Catra takes a few empanadas and stuffs them in her mouth. “Bright Moon has something similar, but it’s just not the same,” she says around a full mouth, the words coming out muffled and barely intelligible, and Pisica laughs.
“Careful, Princess,” Pisica warns, “Wouldn’t want you choking. The queen would have my head.”
C’yra rolls her eyes, “If she chokes, it’s all her fault for not knowing how to pace herself.”
“So,” Felicity pops up behind C’yra and points across the way, “Is that her?”
Catra follows where she’s pointing and sees She-Ra helping people unload the carts.
“Yup,” Catra says, taking another empanada, “That’s She-Ra, the princess of power and warrior of legend.”
Felicity smiles, “And Catra’s crush.”
“Well, it was wonderful seeing you all,” Catra starts backing away, hoping she finds someone else who needs her help so that she can get as far away from this conversation as possible, “So happy you’re all here, but it looks like the, uh,” she looks around and sees one of the older scholars struggling with his box of books, “It looks like Bastet is really struggling with those books, and what kind of princess would I be if I didn’t help?”
She runs off, but not before she hears C’yra jokingly say, “Apparently the only way to get her to do work on her own is by bringing up Adora,” and she blushes.
Even still, she glances at She-Ra helping a few of the kittens unpack a cart, smiling as one hangs off her arm. That anger and hatred that Catra used to feel whenever she saw She-Ra isn’t there anymore.
Now all she can see are the little parts of Adora in She-Ra’s form, like Adora’s clear blue eyes and her cute smile.
Bastet almost drops the box he’s holding, and Catra pulls her gaze away from She-Ra so that she can help.
~*~
The move back to Half Moon goes smoothly, for the most part, and everyone has a bed by the time night falls, even the princesses who came along to help.
Everything ran so smoothly that something was bound to go wrong.
Catra is woken up by the rumble of tanks, and when she looks outside her window, she sees Horde soldiers filing in from the trees surrounding the city.
Catra rushes outside to see Magicat warriors with their weapons out already ready to fight, and the princesses file out after her, pushing forward to be the first line of defense.
“Well, well,” Octavia pushes to the front, and Catra hisses, “It looks like the mangey cat somehow survived. Hordak will be so disappointed.”
“Get out of here,” Catra hisses angrily.
Octavia smiles, and it’s filled with malice and sick joy. “The Magicats will be so easy to conquer again,” she says, “And I’ll enjoy being the one to kill you.”
Before Catra can retort, She-Ra sweeps down on Swift Wind and destroys the few tanks the Horde brought with, effectively killing their major firepower.
Catra smirks. “Maybe not as easy as you think.”
Then the fighting starts in full force, princesses and Magicats working together to take down Horde soldiers.
Catra finds herself facing off against Octavia, and Octavia starts the fight offensive, throwing punches and kicks that Catra just barely evades, even with her speed. One tentacle manages to wrap around Catra’s ankle and throw her off balance, and Catra only has a split second to dodge before Octavia comes down with a powerful kick.
“Come on,” Octavia goads, “Surely Hordak’s previous second-in-command can do better than this.”
Catra swipes her claws as another tentacle comes at her, and Octavia growls as her claws sink into soft flesh.
Octavia’s other tentacles wrap around Catra quickly and throw her against a tree a few feet away, her head hitting the trunk with a loud crack.
“Pathetic,” Octavia spits, “Hordak should’ve killed you himself when he had the chance.”
“Yeah, probably,” Catra says, wiping a bit of blood from her lip.
Octavia picks Catra up by her shirt and shoves her back against the tree roughly. “You’re nothing.”
Catra smirks through the pain and the fuzziness that she’s sure is a concussion, “And you’re still a dumb-face.”
Catra brings her claws up and scratches Octavia’s good eye, and she screams, letting Catra go.
The fight from that point is easy, and Catra has Octavia knocked out within a few minutes. As she straightens up from her fighting stance, she notices that the Horde soldiers start to retreat with the defeat of their commanding officer.
Catra grabs one foot soldier as he hurries past her. “Never return to Half Moon,” she hisses at him and shoves him away. He trips and falls onto the forest floor, and Catra can’t see his face through the helmet, but she hopes that he’s scared as he pulls himself up and starts running.
She tries walking back to the warriors and princesses, but the adrenaline wears out and Catra starts to feel the effects of Octavia slamming her into that tree. Her vision starts to go blurry, and she feels dizzy, and she ends up tripping over a root.
The last thing she remembers before loses consciousness is someone yelling her name.
~*~
Catra’s head feels heavy, and it’s like there’s cotton stuffed into her ears, muffling everything around her. She doesn’t even try and open her eyes, the light making her throbbing headache worse, even through her closed lids.
“C’yra, could you please stop pacing,” Catra hears beside her, the voice sounding like Felix, “You’re going to dig a groove into the floor.”
“I need to do something, Felix,” Catra hears from further away, “I watched that woman throw Catra into a tree, and there was nothing I could do.”
“She’s fine,” Felix says softly, “It could’ve been a lot worse.”
Catra realizes that someone is holding her hand as they start running their thumb along Catra’s knuckles.
“Oh yes, she could’ve lost a limb or been eviscerated,” C’yra says sarcastically.
“Now that’s being a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
Catra groans, “You two are being too loud.”
“Sorry, love,” Felix says softly, and Catra feels him start running his fingers through her hair, “We didn’t realize you were awake.”
Catra opens her eyes just a crack and then immediately shuts them with a hiss.
“Too bright?” Felix asks.
Catra nods.
She hears someone move around the room, the sound of curtains being drawn, and then it’s pleasantly dark.
Catra tries opening her eyes again, and her eyes adjust quickly.
Felix is sitting beside her bed, C’yra just behind him, and, when she lets her head roll to the other side of the room, she sees Adora smiling at her.
“Hey, Adora,” Catra tries to say it like she always does, but it comes out a bit slurred.
“Hey, Catra,” Adora says quietly, “How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts,” Catra mumbles.
“The healer should be coming around soon,” C’yra says, “She’ll have something to help.”
Catra nods and lets her eyes fall shut again, but she quickly opens them and turns to Adora.
“I called Octavia a dumb-face.”
Catra doesn’t notice C’yra and Felix look at each other worried and confused, or C’yra mouthing, “Brain damage?” to Felix, who responds with a shrug. All she sees is Adora breathing out a laugh.
“Well,” Adora responds, “She has a dumb face.”
Catra smiles.
“You should get some rest, though,” Adora tells her, “We don’t want your concussion getting worse.”
Catra stays up just long enough to drink the potion the healer brings to help with the headache before she falls asleep again.
~*~
It takes a few days before the major effects of Catra’s concussion start to subside. For the most part, she sleeps, but when she’s awake, Adora is always there holding her hand and offering to get Catra whatever she needs.
Felix and C’yra are there too, taking turns sitting at her bedside so that the other can do the work required of the king and queen. Sometimes Catra wakes up but keeps her eyes closed so that she can listen to her parents talk with Adora.
Whenever it’s C’yra, they always seem to be talking about a younger Catra and Adora getting up into mischief around the Horde. Catra can hear the fondness in Adora’s tone as she talks about sneaking out of the barracks at night and climbing up to the highest points of the Fright Zone.
Felix loves talking about She-Ra and the depths of history Adora has access to. He asks her about First Ones writing and She-Ra’s lineage, and Adora tries her hardest to answer, even if some of the things she still can’t quite explain.
When Catra wakes up this time, though, the room is silent. She opens her eyes to see Adora curled up in the chair she hasn’t moved from since Catra was brought to the infirmary, a book open against her knees and her hand still holding Catra’s.
“Do you ever leave?” Catra asks, moving in the bed so that she’s on her side facing Adora.
“I’ve showered,” Adora says by way of explanation, bookmarking her book and setting it aside.
Catra takes a deep breath and pulls the hand Adora is holding up to her chest.
“How’s your head?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Catra says, then adds an exasperated, “Finally.”
Adora laughs, “It was a pretty bad hit. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“I’ll be sure to thank Octavia,” Catra says sarcastically.
“I’m sure she would appreciate it,” Adora jokes.
Adora starts running her fingers through Catra’s hair, and Catra nuzzles into the contact, too tired to even care that she’s doing it. She doesn’t see the barely there smile it pulls from Adora. She just closes her eyes and holds Adora’s hand closer to her chest.
“You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Catra whispers.
“I know,” Adora responds, “I didn’t stay because I had to. I stayed because I wanted to.”
Catra smiles.
“Also,” Adora starts, “Felix and C’yra have been nice company whenever you’re asleep.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Adora’s thumb runs over the short fur of Catra’s ear, “I knew you weren’t always sleeping.”
“It’s interesting,” Catra says through a sigh.
Adora hums, and then, like she forgot to mention, she says, “Oh! Scorpia has been coming to see you around trying to help with cleaning and restoration, but she always seems to come right after the healer gives you the medicine that knocks you out.” Then Adora breathes out a laugh, “She’s convinced she has bad luck now.”
Catra thinks for a moment about how Scorpia’s exuberant voice wouldn’t have mixed well with her throbbing headache, but she finds herself missing her best friend.
“Will you go get her in a bit?” Catra asks, “After I wake up some more.” After just a few more moments alone with you, Catra doesn’t say.
“Of course. Do you want me to get Entrapta too?”
“Has she been by?”
Adora snorts, “She stopped in once, commented that waiting by someone who wouldn’t be up for another few hours seemed boring, and left.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Entrapta.”
“Apparently she and Emily have been helping the Magicats modernize.”
“Of course, she is.”
“I’m sure she’ll happily come see you now that you’re awake and able to hold her attention.”
Catra opens her eyes to see Adora smiling at her own joke.
“You’re a nerd.”
“We both know that’s just your concussion speaking,” Adora pats Catra’s head.
Catra flops onto her back, letting go of Adora’s hand held to her chest. “No, I’m feeling much better. Well enough to know you’re a nerd.”
“Says the girl who spends her days in libraries.”
“You were reading when I woke up,” Catra points to the book taking up space on Adora’s chair, “Probably about something super boring like She-Ra.”
“She-Ra isn’t boring,” Adora argues, “I turn into an eight-foot tall, super strong princess. How is that boring?”
“Because the book probably isn’t about anything cool,” Catra says, making sure she sounds as bored as possible, “It’s probably about mythologyand lineage.”
Adora’s cheeks go pink.
“Ha!” Catra sits up, “I was right.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Years of practice.”
Adora rolls her eyes, but she gets out of her chair and sits on the edge of Catra’s bed. She seems a bit shy until Catra tugs her closer.
“We haven’t talked,” Adora says, but she still leans in, her hands coming up to pull Catra in.
“We will soon,” Catra promises, her hands going to Adora’s hips. She can’t think about talking right now when Adora is so close, and they haven’t actually seen each other since Catra left for Half Moon.
She knows they should talk, but then Adora kisses her, and she doesn’t care as much.
As Catra pulls Adora closer, she thinks, Yeah, we’ll talk later.
~*~
Later
starts getting pushed more and more. After Catra is cleared to leave the infirmary, her days are filled with helping Magicats adjust to being back at Half Moon. She helps C’yra with logistics and she stacks books in the library with Felix, returning everything they took to Beast Island. She helps her people rebuild their homes and reopen businesses, and by the time the sun sets, she goes back to her room and crashes.
Adora isn’t any less busy. After the Horde’s failed attempt at trying to retake Half Moon, they start targeting villages along their western border, and She-Ra is called away to defend them.
Anytime they’re able to see each other, talking about what they are or what they might be seems unimportant. Instead, they talk about all of the different things they’re doing. Adora lays on Catra in Catra’s bed in Half Moon and tells her about whatever mission she just got back from. Catra complains as she settles herself at the foot of Adora’s bed in Bright Moon after telling her about training the kittens all day.
More often than not, their stories are broken up by kisses.
But they don’t talk about it.
~*~
Catra walks into the throne room to see C’yra facing the throne with her arms crossed.
“You know,” Catra says sarcastically, “I know I wasn’t raised here, but from what I understand, generally the queen sits on the throne instead of looking at it angrily.”
“I was thinking of getting rid of it.”
Catra’s eyes go wide, “Seriously?”
“Well,” C’yra turns around, “You’re the next queen. What do you think?”
“Honestly?”
C’yra nods.
“Get rid of it,” Catra says, “It’s an unnecessary show of power, and every Magicat royal has lived amongst the people. Unlike Queen Angella, you don’t rule from a throne, so why should we have one?”
C’yra smirks, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“Give it to someone to melt it down and make it into something actually useful.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Nyx to come get it later. He can make it into some new weapons.” C’yra looks over her shoulder at the throne she’s always hated before looking back at Catra. “I doubt you came here because you knew I needed a second opinion on the fate of our throne.”
Catra crosses her arms, her tail swaying uncomfortably.
“I guess I need some advice.”
C’yra smirks, “Oh really?”
“If you’re going to respond like that, I’ll go find Dad.”
“Fine, fine,” C’yra’s hands go up in surrender, but Catra still sees her tail flick in amusement, “What’s going on, kitten?”
“It’s just—” Catra doesn’t know how to say this out loud. It’s been well over a year now since she lived in the Fright Zone. Her nightmares only come back whenever she’s stressed, and the small triggers that make her shut down aren’t completely better, but she’s able to work through them more easily.
Feelings, though? Catra still struggles with those.
She probably always will.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
C’yra smiles, “Well, would you like to come with me while you try to figure it out?”
Catra shrugs, “I guess.”
They walk through the front entrance out into the main market square, and it’s boomed since the Magicats returned. All of the stalls are filled with Magicats selling food, clothes, and little trinkets, and it seems like the rest of the Magicats are milling about, bartering and debating prices.
Catra loves it. She imagines this is what everything was like before the Horde attacked and seeing all of the Magicats so content makes Catra feel unbelievably content herself.
C’yra takes them over to Pisica’s stall.
“Well, if it isn’t her majesty and her highness,” Pisica says in a fake formal voice, “So happy you two are gracing us with your presence today.”
“Maybe you have something that’ll make Catra spit out whatever she wants to talk about,” C’yra jokes, and she and Pisica laugh when Catra glares at C’yra.
“Something on your mind?” Pisica asks, handing Catra one of her apple empanadas without needing to ask which Catra would want.
“I’m not talking about it in the middle of the market,” Catra mumbles, biting into the fried pastry.
“Oh, come on,” C’yra nudges her, “Don’t you want the advice of every Magicat who might happen to overhear?”
“That’s exactly what I want,” Catra drawls sarcastically.
“It’s probably about Adora,” Pisica says, dropping more pastries into the hot oil.
Catra’s eyes go wide and a blush burns red across her cheeks.
C’yra laughs, “You’ve figured her out.”
“Alright, well,” Catra turns away to leave, “Nice talking to you all. I’m going to go throw myself into a volcano.”
Catra goes to walk away, but she feels a tug on her tail, and when she turns around, she sees C’yra holding onto it.
“There’s not even a volcano anywhere near Half Moon,” C’yra informs her.
“I’ll find one.”
Pisica laughs. “Just let us help you, kitten,” she says, “I’ll even offer you a second empanada free of charge.”
Catra groans and pulls her tail from C’yra’s grip. “Fine.” She takes the offered food from Pisica, and it’s warm, like it’s straight from the oil.
“So, what is it, love?” C’yra asks, leaning back against Pisica’s stall.
“I just,” Catra lets out a frustrated growl, “Gods, I don’t even know what to say.”
“Just spit it out,” C’yra says, “Isn’t that what you usually do?”
“Well, Scorpia usually makes me, but she’s in Bright Moon and I don’t feel like walking all day to be swaddled in a blanket.”
C’yra snorts, “I’m obviously doing well as your second choice.”
Catra grips the plate and decides that C’yra is right. Spitting it out is the only way she’s ever going to talk about it.
“I really like Adora,” she says quickly, “And I think she likes me too, and we keep meaning to talk about it, but anytime we’re together now, it doesn’t seem as important when we actually get to spend time together.” Then, quieter, she says, “I’m afraid that we’re not talking about it because she doesn’t actually like me.”
She looks up and sees C’yra and Pisica both smiling at her softly.
“Adora might be afraid of the same thing,” Pisica says.
“But if we’re both afraid, how are we supposed to get out of this limbo?”
“That’s easy, kitten,” C’yra says gently, “One of you has to be the first to take the plunge.”
Catra nods and shoves the rest of the empanada in her mouth, and conversation thankfully moves away from her and her love life as C’yra moves from stall to stall to ask the different merchants about their sales.
~*~
As soon as they make it into Catra’s room at Half Moon, Adora is pulling Catra to her and kissing her, and Catra pulls her back until they fall onto her bed.
Adora ends up one top, but Catra flips them quickly, and Adora breathes out a laugh against Catra’s lips.
Catra pulls back just enough to say, “You’re always on top.”
“I didn’t say I minded.”
And then they’re kissing again. Catra’s fingers go to Adora’s hair and pull it out of her pristine ponytail so she can actually run her fingers through it, and Adora’s hands run over Catra’s back, scratching her nails over a certain spot that she knows will make Catra purr.
It’s the first time they have been able to see each other in a few weeks, so when Catra got the message from Adora asking if she could come to Half Moon, Catra couldn’t say yes faster.
She missed Adora so much, and she promised herself they were definitely going to talk.
But they got back to the room and here they are, kissing and not talking.
Now Catra is thinking about it even though she’s trailing kisses up to Adora’s ear.
She pushes up, and Adora opens her eyes, and Catra thinks that Adora has never looked so cute. Her hair is the messiest Catra has ever seen it, and her cheeks are flushed pink.
“Is everything okay?” Adora cups Catra’s face and runs her thumbs over Catra’s cheeks.
“Yeah,” Catra breathes out, and all she can hear is her mom saying, “One of you has to be the first to take the plunge.”
So Catra does.
She takes the plunge.
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
Adora smiles, “Of course.”
Catra lets out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding in, and she smiles. “Was it seriously that easy?”
“Apparently.”
“I asked my mom and Pisica advice for that.”
Adora giggles, “Really?”
“I didn’t know what to do,” Catra drops her face into Adora’s neck so Adora can’t see her blush, “We kept saying we were going to talk about it, and then we just kept kissing and going on as usual.”
“I was afraid that that was all you wanted.”
Catra breathes out a laugh, “Me too.”
“We’re really bad at this.”
“I think the Fright Zone stunted our emotions.”
Adora laughs, “You think?”
Catra nuzzles her nose against Adora’s neck, and she giggles, the feeling of Catra’s short fur brushing up against sensitive skin feeling ticklish.
“I really like you, Catra,” Adora whispers, her fingers starting to run through Catra’s hair, “I think I’ve liked you ever since we were kids.”
“I really like you too.”
“It really took a long time to get here, didn’t it?”
Catra laughs, “It only took some betrayal and finally realizing what emotions are.”
“Glimmer will be happy that we’re finally together.”
Catra scrunches her nose.
It’s been a while now since Catra joined the Rebellion, and her and Glimmer still do not get along.
“Why?”
Adora’s fingers stilled in Catra’s hair for just a moment. “I might’ve gone to her for advice,” then, after a pause, “A lot.”
Catra snorts, “We are so bad at this.”
“I know,” Adora places a few kisses against Catra’s head, “You know what we’re really good at though?”
Catra pushes herself up so Adora could see her curious look. “What?”
Adora smirks, and Catra’s brain short circuits.
“We are really good at kissing.”
“Oh my gods,” Catra laughs, “You’re such a dork.”
“You could keep teasing me, or you can go back to kissing me.”
Catra smiles, “My girlfriend is so demanding.”
Adora smiles too, “Your girlfriend would really like to be kissing you now.”
Catra rolls her eyes, “I guess, if I must.”
Adora pulls her down, “You’re insufferable.”
“Yeah,” Catra says against Adora’s lips, “But I’m your insufferable girlfriend.”
And as they start kissing again, Catra remembers a moment after their second kiss where she thought that being there, kissing Adora, was the happiest she's ever been, but she was wrong.
Right here, in her room at Half Moon among her people, kissing her girlfriend?
This is the happiest Catra's ever been.
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