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downwiththeficness · 4 years

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A Need So Great-Chapter 15

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~6,700

Warnings: There’s a lot here... kidnapping (kind of), assault, allusions to rape and sexual assault, smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Eva knew something was wrong. The house was always quiet, save for the sound of the waves below, but this was stagnant. She stood in the kitchen, chopping fruit for a late lunch, the knife sounding dully in her hand. Her stomach twisted as she looked down at the mango, shredded from where she’d lost focus and slid the knife through it too many times. She stared at it, disgusted.

There was no sound, no indication of movement, but Eva knew there was someone behind her. The hair on her arms and over the back of her neck stood on end, her fingers twitching over the blade. For several seconds, she intentionally didn’t turn around. For several seconds, she let herself feel like everything was normal—that this was a completely normal moment in a completely normal day.

And then she turned.

“Hello, Birdie.”

Eva stopped breathing.

Zero was lounging at their dining room table. He was wearing tactical gear, a few days’ growth of a beard on his chin. He’d camped out for a bit before making his approach when he knew Horacio would be out getting the supplies. His skin was pale, nearly translucent, hair a pale blonde. He’d let it grow long over the last few years. It flopped over his forehead in a way that looked more careless than it actually was.

“Hello, Zero.”

His head rolled to the side, “We’re old friends, Birdie. Please, call me Alexei.”

Eva looked past him to the staircase, and over to the door. Zero clocked it.

“The helicopter came in about ten minutes ago. He’ll be another half hour before he makes it up the path. Very resourceful, your Colonel.”

Forcing her body to remain relaxed, Eva acknowledged the compliment with a tip of her head, “I’m happy with him.”

He smiled, straight white teeth, “Anyone with eyes can see how happy you are.”

“Is that why you’re here? Because I’m happy?”

Zero lifted a brow, giving her all the answers she needed. Eva widened her stance, thumb running over the handle of the knife. She wouldn’t be able to take him in a fair fight, wouldn’t be able to take him in an unfair fight, either.

“She couldn’t leave it alone.”

He shrugged, “That is her way, Birdie.”

The way he was looking at her—there was sorrow in his eyes. This was a ploy, a way to get her to lower her guard. She knew this, but wasn’t unaffected by it. So many people had looked at her with pity over the years, but none who knew intimately the things she’d done, the things that had been done to her. Zero had more reason to pity her than anyone she’d ever known.

Eva swallowed, hand tightening on the knife. Then, telegraphing as little as possible, she surged past him towards the staircase. He was too fast, on his feet and catching her arm in the blink of an eye. Eva grunted, turning and swinging the blade. She caught him in the forearm, cutting through his clothes to the meat and turning it.

He yelled, grip loosening enough that she got free. Stumbling, she reached the stairs and stomped up them, hauling herself up by the rail. Eva made it up all the way, rounding the corner and down the hall. She could hear his heavy footfalls following behind and her adrenaline spiked. Ten feet. Five feet. Three feet. She threw herself into the bedroom, was headed for the panic room when he got to her.

She fell to the floor hard, her hip taking the brunt of the blow. He rolled her beneath him, but pushed a little too hard and she got the leverage she needed to pin one thigh down with her knee and an arm down with her elbow. Knife in hand, she brought it up and down hard, wincing when he blocked it with his forearm, blood spurting from the wound she’d made.

Releasing the arm she’d pinned, Eva used both hands and most of her weight to try to drive the knife downwards and into his chest. Centimeter by centimeter, she gained the advantage, until she had maybe two or three inches before she met skin. A sharp pain tingled along her thigh. Eva looked down at the needle just as he pushed in the plunger.

Knowing she was on a timeline, Eva pushed harder, yelling. It did no good. Whatever he’d injected her with was fast, her vision blurred. Before she passed out, she got a good look at his wide, gleeful smile. She wondered if he would, indeed, keep his record at zero.

As she began to lose consciousness, Zero rolled her off him and swung her up and over his shoulder. Her arms hung down, limp, as he carried her. Far away, she heard the main door open and close. Drawing a deep breath, she let out a scream, a weak sound that died in her throat. Against the meat of her thighs, Eva felt Zero laugh.

Waking was terrible. Eva’s head hurt, her body hurt, everything fucking hurt. She was slumped against a wooden pole in the basement, her hands bound behind her. Eva blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. A welcome voice said her name once, twice.

Eva lifted her head. Horacio was sitting in a wooden chair that had definitely seen better days, his arms and ankles handcuffed to the legs. There was a bruise blossoming at his temple. A ginger twist of her wrists told her that she was similarly bound. Her legs, however, were free.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked, looking up and to her left.

“I should be asking you that question.”

Eva shook her head, regretting the action immediately, “I’m fine. A little woozy and my head hurts, but he hasn’t started in on me yet.”

Horacio cleared his throat, and she could see his shoulders and arms flexing against his bonds, “You know him, Eva. What is he going to do?”

She thought about it, “Could go a few ways. He could torture you in front of me, he already knows I have feelings for you. Or, we could go that other way, work on me while you watch.”

Eva heard him audibly swallow, heard his feet scuff against the floor. She looked around. Zero had disarmed Horacio, his preferred firearm sitting on a table next to...several syringes. They were laid out carefully. No labels, no indication as to what was inside. Eva glanced at the rest of the room. The wine rack, covered in a light layer of dust sat at the far end, near the washer and dryer. Above her was what used to be a drying line that reached across to another wooden pole about ten feet away, a remnant from before the place was modernized. On the table with Horacio’s gun was another set of handcuffs, possibly for her feet.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked, feeling tears rise up. Guilt rode her heavy, she was sorry that she’d dragged him into her mess.

Horacio shook his head, “I should have taken you to the beach with me. I let my guard down.”

They both had. The stillness of the place, the quiet tranquility of the little home they had borrowed, had lulled them into a soft calm that shouldn’t have been there.

She could see the guilt written clearly on his face, just as it was written on her own, “No. This isn’t your fault. He wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”

The door to the upstairs swung open and Zero’s heavy footsteps dropped on each stair, an ugly beating drum. Eva sniffed, blinking away the tears and dropping into that place she hadn’t needed to go to for a very long time, the place where nothing could hurt her. It would be the only way she was going to survive whatever he was going to do to her.

Zero was smiling as he approached. He’d wrapped up his arm, the bandage a little pink, but it looked like she hadn’t cut him deep enough to hinder the flex of his hands, “I’m so glad you’re awake. I thought I was going to have to pass the time by removing his fingers.”

Eva held her tongue, but Horacio spoke up, voice terse, rapid fire Spanish flying out like little bullets. She was grateful for what he was trying to do, pull Zero’s attention elsewhere, but she knew the hitman wouldn’t be deterred for long.

Zero laughed, patting Horacio’s face. He responded, likewise, in Spanish. Eva only caught the reference to her and to blood, but she got the gist by the way Horacio paled, his jaw clenching. She had to intervene, and quickly.

“We both know you’re not going to kill me any time soon,” she said, hardening herself, “You’re too arrogant for that. So, why don’t you tell me what the plan is, Alexei. And then I can get on with telling you to go fuck yourself.”

Zero laughed, full bellied, head thrown back. Eva had never known such a joyful looking thing could be so terrible. Her fists clenched behind her as she fought to reign herself in.

Wiping at his eyes, Zero gave her an affectionate look, “I missed you.”

She sneered, “Wish I could say the feeling was mutual.”

He non-verbally agreed with her, a short tilt of his head to one side. With three steps, he knelt by her, touching her face, “Its a shame your in laws want you dead so much. I would have loved to have taught you the trade.”

The trade. As if it were carpentry, or something equally as innocuous. Eva felt bile rise to the back of her throat as she contemplated being trained and mentored by this man.

Unable to help it, Eva asked the question that had been on her mind since she’d figured out he was after her, “How long since you took the bounty?

His mouth quirked, “About five years. I told them I would need to play the long game.”

She’d been in Nevada at that time, in a vast desert instead of lush forest. Eva nodded, her eyes dropping.

“But, as for my plans,” he sighed, standing, “I thought I would indulge myself, just this once.” He moved over to the syringes, “The family perfected the serum. It will go to market in about two years, once clinical trials are complete.”

Eva’s blood ran cold. She stopped breathing as she stared at the syringe he held up for her inspection. No...

“You remember what your heats were like with Joshua, don’t you?” he asked, kindness in his tone, if not in his intentions, “He used to tell me about how he’d leave you tied to the bed for hours, crying to be fucked.”

She remembered. It was his little game that he played with her cycle-denying her nesting time, denying her fulfilled heats. Eva had worked very hard to process and move on from those heats, had thought she’d moved past them. And, now, before he killed her, he was going to do it again. She could not contain the horror she felt as she looked at the needle.

Zero gazed at her, pity in his expression, “I am not Joshua, and I will not leave you in such a way. In fact, my plan, since you want to know, is to knot you in front of the alpha you’ve claimed as yours. I’ll break the bond, I will break you, and then I will kill you both—as a mercy, you see.”

Eva very carefully kept her eyes on Zero, though she so wanted to know how Horacio was reacting. She forced her heart to slow and forced her breathing to remain as calm as possible. An overtly emotional response would be a mistake.

“I am on a limited time schedule, Birdie. I think I’ll give you the first dose now.”

As he leaned down, she kicked out hard, trying to dislodge the syringe. He caught her leg and pushed up the material of her shorts, sticking her with it. The movement was fluid, so much ease that it had to be practiced. Practiced, but not gentle. Eva screamed, throwing her head back against the pole behind her.

Zero pulled the needle back, capping it, “This’ll start the hormonal reactions. I’ll give you the other two doses in about ten minutes, okay?”

It was not okay. It would never be okay. Eva glared at him, fighting hard to keep her tears from overflowing her lids to fall over her cheeks. She was only moderately successful, a single tear escaping the control she exerted.

And then he was turning and heading up the stairs, leaving them to their devices.

“Eva,” Horacio urged, “I’m going to try to break this chair. When I tell you, I need you to scream. Scream loud.”

She looked at the chair, and then at him. He was so strong, she thought he might be able to do it. Nodding, she breathed deep.

“Three, two, one.”

Eva yelled, as loud as her throat would go. He jerked, rocking on the legs.

“Again.”

More yelling, more struggle. They did this three or four more times, until her voice cracked and she had to stop. He’d made only moderate gains, the legs rocking a little bit under his weight. Little by little, he loosened them, until they looked like they might detach from the body of the chair. When Eva had just begun to feel hope, the door opened and Zero came sauntering down the stairs.

He took them in, took in her red face, Horacio’s deadly glare. He looked, and he smiled.

“I see we’re getting along quite well.”

Without preamble, he reached for the second syringe, “But, you, Birdie, you’re not quite where you should be. Far too alert.”

Eva sneered, “Maybe your shit doesn’t work.”

His smile faltered just a hair, “No, I made sure the batch was good. Came across a nice little omega just outside of the border. It works. You have always been unusually stubborn, Eva. I should not have expected any different.”

Taking two steps forward, he knelt, grabbed her leg, warded off the kicks from her other leg, and stuck her.

“Let’s see how that does, hmm?”

Horacio spoke, his voice even, “Does that make you feel like an alpha, Zero? Hurting women?”

Zero leveled an amused look at him, “No, it doesn’t. Killing them, yes. But, hurting them, not in the least.” Then, “Do you want to know how I’ll do it?”

“You’re not going to get that far,” Horacio declared, his eyes narrowed to slits.

Zero ignored him, walking over to the table where he’d set Horacio’s gun, “I’m going to shoot her with your gun. Lucky for Eva, I don’t have time to use my knives, so the gun will have to do. I’ll shoot her, and then I’ll shoot you. So simple.”

Eva’s heart pounded, her skin growing clammy. A telltale cramp pushed its way into her stomach. She nearly vomited.

Zero inhaled lasciviously, “Looks like we’ve got a winner.” Fairly skipping over to Eva, he leaned over her, “How are you feeling?”

She glared up at him, mouth thin, “Like I’m going to kill you.”

He laughed, “You haven’t changed at all, Birdie. But, unlike your late husband, I don’t have the luxury of underestimating you.”

Setting the gun back where he’d originally laid it, Zero picked up another syringe and injected her without a word. Eva flinched bodily. It wouldn’t be long before she’d start feeling the effects. She’d slow down, fatigue overcoming her, and then her entire world would spin completely out of control.

“Now that you’re cooperative, let’s get you into position.”

She tried to fight back, tried to struggle, but he manhandled her, loosening the cuffs and flipping her to her belly before yanking her wrist around the pole and refastening them.

“I’m going upstairs to freshen up. You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he was gone, Horacio was talking to her. She could hear the scratch of the chair moving as he told her to hold on, that he would get her free, that he would take care of Zero. She focused on it, fighting to breach the surface of her brain. His scent was sharp in her nose, rising above the scent of the other alpha in the house. Eva shivered, choking back a whine.

Blowing out a breath, Eva felt her mind clear just enough for her to pull her knees underneath her. Inching the cuffs up, she used them as leverage to help her stand, until she was leaning heavily against it, forehead pressed to the wood. Sweat dripped down her neck, but she was otherwise alright. If she could focus, she could work on getting free.

“Fight through it, Eva,” he ordered, and Eva snapped to attention, unable to deny him, even in this state, especially in this state.

Focusing as best she could, she spread her hands over the pole, testing if it was loose, looking for some thing to help her get free. Starting from the bottom of her reach, she worked upwards, feeling...feeling.

The nail. Above her head, maybe six inches, was the nail that had once held the other end of the drying line. A thin thing, half rusted, and sticking out enough that it might work. Eva shuffled around the pole, working to align the cuffs with it. With one ear trained to the door, she did blindly what she had done many times before. Push, tilt, pull. The cuff fell free.

The door opened. She squeaked, ambling around the pole and looping the loose cuff over three fingers, holding so that he wouldn’t initially see that she’d slipped it.

“I honestly can’t believe you’re standing. Really, I’m impressed. You are a treasure, Birdie.”

Eva snarled, turning her head to look at him. She could smell Horacio from where he sat—his sweat, his pheromones, everything. Eva had to dig her hand into the rough wood of the pole to keep from groaning. Focus.

“Nonetheless, in a few minutes, you’re going to be prime for a knot. It won’t matter whose cock you have in you, you’ll be begging for it.”

Zero approached, hands on his hips, admiring her. Eva turned her head over her shoulder and tried to spit at him. He laughed that stupid laugh that she’d been hearing all along and she hated him for it.

Spinning, Eva let loose of the cuff, swinging it first down and then up, catching him underneath his jaw. Using the butt of her hand, she shoved it home with a satisfying crunch. Then, she braced her hand on his shoulder and yanked as hard as she fucking could, pulling his jaw free from the joint and sideways, dislocating it entirely.

Zero screamed, falling to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. Almost without thinking, Eva grabbed for Horacio’s gun and took aim.

Hesitating for only a moment, Eva took the time to make sure he knew who was killing him, “Goodbye, Alexei.”

One shot. One kill.

The sound of it rang in her ears and Eva found that she had a hard time moving after that. Something in her body had acclimated enough to whatever he’d given her that she was seeing clearly, but it was as if her mind desperately needed a time out.

“Eva, get the keys from his pocket.”

She knelt, eyeing Zero’s cracked open skull as she pulled the keys out and unhooked the cuff still hanging from her wrist. Then, she moved to Horacio—one, two, three, four sets of cuffs opened, and then he was gathering her in his arms in a fierce embrace.

“You did so good,” he cooed, kissing over shoulders and cheeks, his hands keeping her close.

Eva’s breath stuttered, and she knew she only had so long before her body couldn’t keep up with the drug in her system. She was fighting it hard, though. Everything she knew about the serum was from either fifteen years previous or the little bit of information Zero had given her. She was warm, she was a little aroused, but she had more control over her body than she anticipated. For this, she was grateful.

He leaned away from her, “I need to take care of him, and then I need to get you to a medic.”

Too weak to argue with him, Eva let Horacio lead her upstairs, and then up to the bedroom where he laid her down on the bed. Very deliberately, he opened the panic room.

“If you need to, go in here. It locks from the inside.”

And then he was gone, doing God knows what with Zero’s body. Eva stared at the ceiling, wrapped in the comfort of their bed. She’d left the windows open that morning and the sound of the surf filtered in. A light breeze blew across her skin, sending a shudder down her spine. She swallowed, everything in her body beginning to tingle. She could feel herself getting wet, her folds swelling outwards for attention. Rolling to her side, she took deep breaths, moaning when all she could smell was him. He was in the sheets, in the pillow she laid on.

Eva didn’t know how long she lay like that, the arousal climbing steadily higher, her body trying to figure out how to process the chemicals. She pressed her knees together, fingers curling in the sheets. Deep calming breaths evened out as she drifted, falling into almost a meditative state.

Hot, sweating, needy, her mind following along a familiar path of fantasy, she could almost feel him kissing the skin of her shoulder, hands slipping under her arms to hold her to him. A firm grip lifting her leg so that he could slide up and into her until his hips pressed into the curve of her ass. Eva whimpered, knowing that it would feel so good to be split open, that the pressure of his cock would ease this building ache in her body.

He might try to take it slow, as was his won’t in the first few minutes of their lovemaking. She could already hear herself begging for more, harder, faster. With her hormones going wild, her body leaking all over him, he might indulge her, pushing her to her stomach and holding her down with one hand between her shoulder blades. He might pump into her as hard as he had the night he’d initiated the bond, until she could feel his knot at her entrance with every thrust. He might grind into her, until he could push it inside with a soft ‘pop’ that locked them together. He might come helplessly inside her, thumb rolling over her clit until she pulsed around him.

Eva woke with a strangled gasp, nearly a scream. The room was too hot, she was sweating through her clothes. Her jaw hurt from clenching, her fingers flexing with difficulty. She was so, so close. On a knife’s edge. Eva cried out, pulling at her hair. This wasn’t like the other heat, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It hurt in a way that wasn’t natural. Tears fell over her cheeks and she wiped them away.

Footsteps sounded up the stairs, a hurried pace. Horacio appeared in the doorway, dwarfing the entrance, his face a mask of concern.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

Eva shook her head, reaching out for him. He could soothe this. He could make it better. Slowly, he approached, already lifting a hand to grasp at her.

“Amorcita, tell me you’re alright.”

Eva nodded, unable to speak. Just the touch of his skin felt like coming up for air after having sat at the bottom of a pool too long. He sat down next to her on the bed, arms coming up to hold her. She pushed as far as she could into his embrace, inhaling as much of her sent as her lungs could hold. It helped enough that she felt muscles she hadn’t known were tensed relax.

He ran a hand through her hair and down her back, “I need to get you to a medic.”

Eva huffed, “Its a mile hike to the road and several hours’ drive. I won’t make it.”

“I can get you there,” he retorted, pulling back to look her in the eye, “I can.”

She leaned in and kissed him chastely, “You can’t. I don’t think I can even walk.”

This was the truth. Her legs felt like jelly, the muscles ticking. On his chest, her hands were shaking.

“Its gonna get worse before it gets better,” she murmured, “How long has it been?”

Horacio checked his watch, “About an hour and a half.”

An hour and a half.

She blinked. Eva should have been writhing by now, begging, the heat overcoming her. Eyes lifting to the ceiling, she thanked whatever deity listening that she’d screwed her hormones up so much in her younger years. It had certainly helped in the long run.

She cramped, one hand touching her belly, “I’m on the upswing. Usually, I’d say I’ve got about two to four hours until full heat, but I honestly have no fucking clue.”

Another cramp. This time worse.

“I think its accelerating.”

His expression was pained, his eyes flicking over her body, as if trying to figure out how to help. His nostrils flared, and she watched as his pupils dilated. Drawn in by the shift in his scent, Eva touched her mouth to his cheek, his jaw, forehead, and lips. His taste, already one of her favorites, was richer with the fluctuation of their hormones. She dipped into him, running her tongue over the inside of his lower lip.

He groaned, hand at the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. The feeling burned through her, igniting her already unstable nerves, until she was leaning helplessly into him. She pushed her hands into his hair, loosening the hold of his pomade. Against her mouth, he moaned, his hands pushing under her t shirt.

Too quickly, he pulled away, “Eva, stop.”

She keened, reaching for him again.

“Stop,” he said again, “I can’t do this.”

Eva, breathing hard, asked, “Why?”

He looked as her, incredulous, “You’ve been drugged, Eva. I watched him inject you with—I...you’re drugged. I can’t do this to you while you’re drugged.”

Her mind took a hard left, trying to work out what the fuck he was so worried about. This was a heat, he was her alpha, there shouldn’t even be a discussion.

“Its fine,” she breathed, hands wandering up his arms.

He caught them, holding them down on her thighs, “Its not fine.”

When got up and headed for the door, Eva felt herself give an involuntary yell, her hand reaching after him. Not again. Not. Again.

“Please,” she bit out, “Please don’t leave me here alone. Please don’t make me go through this alone.”

Horacio turned and looked at her for a long moment, and she could see the wheels of his mind turning. She waited as patiently as she could, unable to really sit still, her body fairly vibrating with need.

Then, she watched the decision settle over him. His shoulders squared, his jaw set. Taking one step to the side, he leaned down and pulled the chair from the corner a little, angling it so that he had a clear view of the bed. Sitting, he rested his forearms on his knees, eyes darkly expressive.

“I’m going to sit right here. You’re going to stay on the bed. Understand?”

She nodded eagerly, ready to take whatever he was willing to give her. The air in the room electrified with the knowledge that she would not be going through this artificial heat alone. He would be with her, if not directly by her side.

He drew in a deep breath, eyes closing a little as he scented the air, “You do what you need to do, whatever you need. I’ll be right here with you.”

Eva’s cheeks colored, “You want me to—.”

Horacio gave a little affirmative hum, “Just like you did a few weeks ago.”

Her body pulsed, tongue licking along dry lips, “I don’t know…”

He nodded, wrist turning over, fingers extending, “Lay back.”

She did as he asked, trying to get her body to relax against the mattress. He shifted in the chair and she glanced down her body at him. He’d leaned back, arms draped over the armrests, legs spread so that she could see that he wasn’t unaffected by the situation.

Heartened, Eva touched her stomach, feeling it quiver in response to the stimuli. Clumsily, she unsnapped her shorts and pushed them down along with her underwear. They landed with a soft thud on the floor.

He drew in a sharp inhale when she spread her legs, letting her hips open naturally. His scent floated over to her—aroused, hungry. She let it roll across her tongue as she gingerly pressed four fingers to her mound, massaging gently. Eva was embarrassingly wet, her fingers sliding so easily that there almost wasn’t enough friction.

Control shattering, she lost herself in the momentum, in the motion of circling her clit to get the first orgasm out of the way. With her free hand, she pushed in two fingers, then three, trying to get a little pressure going from the inside.

Panting, Eva’s hips rolled, her back arched, her feet digging into the mattress below—she couldn’t get there. Desperate, she picked up the pace, until her forearms ached with the repeated motion.

A sob left her, and she stopped, hands clenching the sheets, “I can’t.”

“You can,” he drawled from too far away, “You can.”

Head whipping from side to side, Eva called out his name, the fire burning hotter, the pain rising. Tears formed in her eyes as she flung herself over to her belly, face pressed into the sheets. His scent was there, a little faded, but still there. Eva cried into it even as her hips flexed against the bed, seeking relief. The smell of him soothed her mind a little, igniting along her body.

“What do you need?” He asked, sounding just this side of panicked. “Did you bring your toy?”

She laughed, amused and frustrated at the same time, “No. I didn’t think I would need it.”

That earned her an unwilling chuckle, then, “What do you need?”

You, she thought. I need you.

The rational part of her mind, what little of it that was still functioning, was grateful for his consideration. The animal part of her, the omega in her, wanted to rail at him for not simply taking what was his in the first place. She needed him. She needed him. She needed…

Eva sat up so fast that Horacio flinched, his body pushing back against the chair, “Give me your shirt.”

A fresh scent, something still warm from the heat of him. That might do it.

When he hesitated too long, she whipped out a hand, flicking her fingers to indicate that she wanted it right now, “Your shirt, Horacio.”

His mouth parted, eyes a little glazed, and then he was reaching behind him to pull the polo over his head. He threw it at her and she caught it. Fuck, but it smelled good. Just like him. Her eyes rolled back as she fell to the bed, rolling over it and rubbing her face against the material. From his perch, Horacio growled lowly, but he didn’t move.

Another roll took her to the head of the bed, cosseted by the pillows. It was then that Eva had an idea that she wouldn’t have dared to execute at any other point in her life. Pulling one of the pillows beneath her spread thighs, she straddled it.

...feels too good when you ride me...

Holding his shirt to her nose, Eva began to roll her hips against the firm mass beneath her. Her slick soaked into the material, and the sound as she dripped more and more onto it was very nearly obscene. She squeezed her thighs, pushing the pillow up and into her, giving her a little extra pressure. Every thrust forward pushed her higher, until she had to brace her hands either side of the pillow, the shirt stretched over the mound.

Eva might have said his name, might have said any number of things, but her brain was mostly shut off, leaving only the primal need to come. It rose steadily, helped along by her fingers shoving inside roughly. It was the looking back that tipped her over, the looking over her shoulder and seeing him watching her. His eyes were focused on the sway of her hips, his hands clenching the armrests to keep himself immobile. Her strong alpha, her beautiful man enduring this in consideration of her needs.

It hit her hard enough that she yelped, her face scrunching, arms giving out. Eva rubbed her nose in the shirt, gathering as much of him into as she could while her cunt clenched on nothing but her too small fingers.

As soon as the contractions died down, the cramps started again. Exhausted, she rolled to her back, taking the shirt with her. It draped over her body and between her thighs. She took several deep breaths, trying to get her bearings as the need began its rapid ascent to spiral out of control.

Biting her lip, Eva reached down again, fingers tangling in the material. The sensation, the friction of the fabric as it slid across her skin was more than magnificent. It was exactly what she needed. Both hands buried in it, Eva pressed down hard, rocking up into the shirt.

She was soaking it, her juices flowing until they pooled in the hollows of her thighs and beneath her. Everything spun, her body reaching once more for the apex. Eva rubbed faster, using the shirt to gain just the right grind, until she came again moaning his name.

Somewhere after orgasm number four, Eva passed out. She wasn’t sure for how long, but it was almost dark when she awoke, the evening sun shining with purples and oranges through the bedroom window. Head lolling to the side, she looked at Horacio. He was sitting exactly where he had been when this all began, head resting on one fist, eyes dark and searching.

She tried to speak, her voice croaking. Clearing her throat, she asked for water. Robotically, he rose and went to the en suite, returning with a cup. She half sat up, leaning heavily against the headboard. Gently, he helped her drink, giving her little sips, his hand cupping the back of her head.

When she had drained the cup, Eva grasped his wrist and gave him a little encouraging pull. Hesitantly, he sat near her, though he was definitely looking for signs of another wave.

“I think its over,” she said. “I feel...I think its over.”

Horacio scanned her face, touching just beneath her chin. Seemingly satisfied, he slipped off his shoes and socks and joined her on the bed, pulling her to lay with her back against his chest. Propped up against the headboard, he held her for a long time, until there was almost no light left in the sky. Oddly, he reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, the warm amber glow filling the room.

Once the fog had cleared just a little, Eva lifted up and pulled off her t shirt and bra. They were sweat soaked and chafing her still sensitized skin. She lay back against Horacio with a sigh, earning herself a little strangled groan as he took her in. His hands brushed gently over her, far more gently that he probably wanted to, if the erection digging into the small of her back was anything to go by.

In her stupor, she’d noticed that he hadn’t moved, that he hadn’t touched himself through the whole ordeal. He was still hard, leaking enough that there was a circle of damp, darkened, fabric to the side of his fly. Her affection for him, already too intense by her own standards, swelled even more.

Head rolling, she kissed his jaw, giving it just the littlest nip. He pulled away, her name a warning that held no bite. Her arms covered his, wrapped around her middle. She skimmed them down to his hands, threading through them. Pressing down, Eva increased the pressure until his palms were flat against her, urging one to knead at her breast, the other to travel down. She felt him inhale, felt his whole body tighten up, knew he was fighting for control. Very slowly, she flexed her fingers over his, curling them into her center, still wet.

Twitching, he pulled his hands back, dropping them to his sides, “Its not over.”

She smiled, letting her head fall back to his shoulder even as she circled her clit very, very slowly, “It is.”

“No,” he countered, though his hips pushed up against her, “You’re still...fuck, you’re still…”

The sentence cut off, his head knocking back against the headboard as he fisted the sheets on either side. Eva, already laying most of her weight on him, pushed a little more into his body, feeling his cock throb.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked.

He paused, his chest heaving, “No, you can keep—just, don’t...don’t touch me. I won’t be able to stop myself if you touch me.”

Eva smiled, biting her lip. Daintily, she lifted each leg and draped it over his thighs, hands already working. He arched over her, eyes dropping down so that he could watch, though he steadfastly did not touch. Knowing that this was going to end fast, Eva let her fingers swirl, whining a little when he spread his knees, stretching her wide.

She would be lying if she said she was only working to get herself off. Her body was so primed for it that it would take next to nothing to come all over again. This, though, this was also for him. She needed to show him how much he meant to her, how much she felt when he was near.

“I wouldn’t have done it,” she murmured, forehead slotting into the bend of his neck.

Hissing, he bit out, “Done what?”

Though he was attempting valiantly to remain still, Horacio was pushing his cock up and into her, a stilted, stuttering motion that she focused on, picking up his rhythm so that he got as much sensation out of every thrust that escaped his iron control.

“Begged for it,” she said. “He said I’d beg for him. I wouldn’t have.”

His eyes closed, and she could tell that he was tamping down the anger that mentioning Zero evoked. She hurried ahead, wanting to give him something he so deeply deserved.

“Yours is the only cock I would have begged for. He could have shot me full of ten syringes, and I’d still only want you to knot me.”

That was it. That’s what did it. Head thrown back, Horacio came on a rough yell, looking almost pained as he thrust against her. His released triggered hers, her first and middle finger circling her clit wildly.

It took a long time for their breathing to return to normal. He’d pulled her up a little on his chest, raining kisses down on her face, her hair, her neck, everywhere he could reach. Eva laughed, even as he shuffled out from underneath her, helping her to stand so that he could walk her to the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the tub as he filled it, both of them sinking into the water.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, Eva was waking in the middle of the night. The sound of the ocean was coming in through the still open windows, and Horacio was relaxed in sleep beside her. She pushed an errant curl from his face, thinking that her heart would burst with how just how much she felt for this man.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

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goodproofingwater · 4 years

Text

Chapter 16 | Tinder Tommy

Words: 1953 Notes: hello my lovelies, i am so sorry that this has taken so long - i feel like this has literally been months and you deserve better! lots of shit has been happening in my life which has meant that i haven’t really had the focus to do anything but watch brooklyn 99 or peaky blinders for the 500th time, but ya girl is back for now! I hope that you are all still with me and are looking forward to seeing how Tommy works with his new found affection! This chapter pairs directly with @idesiretomhardy‘s Mr Solomons story (in that the dialogue is the same in parts, and the timelines are the same. These stories exist in the same universe. Enjoy!

Taglist (just send me a message if you would like to be added):

@a-dorky-book-keeper @ishoutmarcoandyoushout @idesiretomhardy @theamuz @blinderscaps @peakywriting @justanothershelby @contemporary-mary @auroravipers @moonyscardigans @peakysxshelby @miss-shelby-barnes @vintage-fantasyyy @ly—canthrope @morgan-1830 @i-love-you-green @l0tsofpennies @exploringmycosmicsoul @maah-chan @peakyblindersengland

The journey to Birmingham was almost pleasant. The first class ticket his assistant had scored him came with whiskey and although he couldn’t smoke, the journey was so seamless that he was only craving a cigarette when he stepped into the fresh air of Birmingham new street.

It had always amazed him in the way it only could a local to Birmingham that he could get to between the London office and the place it had all began in a matter of hours. He remembered when he had to call a car to get to the London office when it just started up, when the trains were so shit that he had to rely on his own mileage to get there. But so much had changed since then. He had changed since then.

Tommy Shelby crawled into Small Heath four hours after he had reluctantly left his home in Mayfair, the staff he had in the midlands office a far cry from the suit wearing, polished people in Canary Wharf.

“Good afternoon Mr Shelby,” the receptionist spoke, smiling at him and looking toward the old knocked down wall which led to the rest of what they loosely called the Birmingham office.

The large room had once been three or four terrace houses but had long since been knocked through, a small platform allowed for John to stand by a massive touch screen where he was checking stock prices and the market which was much further from their legitimate business.

The business in the north was far different from the import and export business in the south, and far from legal.

Shelby Company Limited were the first company in history to produce software which allowed the significant players in import and export of illegal goods to check market price, and buy and sell illegal goods on a secure server which was entirely untraceable.

The software was a massive success, and had gained the Shelby name infamy with even the most brutal and violent drug cartels still operating in the 21st century.

“So what was so urgent that I had to get a train up here immediately?”

John stepped aside and showed him the spreadsheet he was working on, and pulled up the share prices for drugs so it sat next to it.

“By all accounts, the cocaine market is following the same pattern as it did 5 years ago”

John didn’t have to go into detail for Tommy to remember the influx of cocaine into the country via a rival London based company, and the price drop which followed due to supply heavily outweighing demand. It had been the main reason Tommy had set up the office in the south.

“Is it Kimber again? Because I swear to god—“

“Not Kimber. His company uses our software now and he called the support team thinking it was a fucking glitch in the system”

Tommy’s brow furrowed as he eyed the prices and the spreadsheet which showed the fluctuations John had been keeping track of since the incident so long ago.

“And uh.. that’s not all” John spoke, gesturing for Tommy to follow him into his office and he did, taking a seat in one of the plush leather chairs which sat on the other side of Johns desk while his younger brother poured them whiskey and placed the glasses in front of them. “As well as the share prices I’ve been keeping track of the weight of the product coming in and going out. It’s been declining steadily for the last week. Not by much, not even enough to alert me at the start but it’s going down an ounce each time.”

“So you’re telling me someone is skimming off the top?” And John nodded, sipping his whiskey as he unintentionally mirrored Tommy’s posture, leaning back in his chair with one ankle resting on the other knee.

Tommy let out a sigh, hating that there was yet another issue that he had to deal with. External problems like share prices and supply and demand came with the territory. Internal problems were not something he had patience for.

“Any theories who it is?”

“You mean except Michael?” The malice in Johns voice was matched only by his expression, his hate and disdain for his cousin clear in everything from his brow to his clenched fingers around his glass.

Tommy responded only by rolling his eyes, Michael’s drug problem being something he was fully aware of.

“Michael pays for what he takes. And he pays double. Any real theories?”

John remained quiet, sipping his whiskey and allowing his silence to speak for itself.

“Fantastic.” Tommy sighed, downing his whiskey in one gulp and plucking a cigarette from the case he had pulled from his inside pocket. “Do we at least know which office?”

“Oh it’s definitely up here. The coke is lighter way before it even touches county lines”

Tommy lets out a sigh with the exhale of his cigarette, smoke billowing from his nose as the prospect of someone stealing and the punishment they deserve runs through his mind.

“Alright. I’ll speak to the managers up here separately and let them know what’s going on, ask them to keep an eye. I don’t want either of us up here if there’s a supply/demand problem in case we get raided. These people will get away with saying they were following orders, but we’re the fucking captains.”

John nods, sipping his whiskey and glancing out of the window, his mind clearly trying to puzzle out who it could be as Tommy did the same.

Later that evening, Tommy slipped into a bar in new street to wait for an old friend. One that he couldn’t quite believe was even stepping foot in the city.

The room seemed to part for Alfie Solomons, the very air around him bending as he walked into a bar Tommy had picked for its proximity to Alfie’s hotel. The older man was one of the few he would make allowances for, and it had been so long that he would rather take a private car the half an hour into central Birmingham than make the effort to convince him to come to small heath and listen to him complain the whole time.

“Thomas” his booming London accent turned the heads that weren’t already staring at Tommy, and he couldn’t help the bemused smile which washed over his features as he shook his hand and settled to drink his whiskey.

“Alfie, it’s been a while,” he speaks, sipping at his glass knowing full well which comment is coming next.

“Yeah well you don’t get to London as much these days,” He catches the bartender's attention, a woman who eyes up Tommy when she comes over to take his order, her eyes only leaving his friend to make Alfie’s drink.

“You could always come here,” Tommy suggests, causing Alfie to snort. His disdain for the northern city clear in both his response and his body language.

“Mate, the only reason I’m in this shit city is cause of that fucking meeting, couldn’t get me here any other way,” he comments, Tommy giving him a hint of a smile behind his glass which only widens as he watches his friend attempt to hide a selfie of all things which had made its way to his lock screen.

“So, how’s the family then?” Alfie asks.

“Arthur got married,” Tommy tries and fails to keep his distaste for Linda from his voice, and Alfie smirks as he relishes in the hate which is so evident to someone who is also quick to anger.

“And I wasn’t invited? What’s she like?” He quips

“She’s good for Arthur,” is all Tommy says, the comments he could make about his brother’s new wife unsavoury at best.

It’s then that Alfie’s phone buzzes once again, and with a second glance at his lock screen Tommy can’t keep his comments to himself any longer.

“Who’s that then aye?” Tommy says, inclining his head towards Alfie’s phone. “Got yourself a girlfriend, have you?”

“Yeah mate, I have. She’s fucking brilliant she is,” Alfie says, rolling his eyes at the smirk that crosses his friend’s lips.

“You’re going soft Solomons.”

“Fuck off,” Alfie says, the smile which splits his face something that was a rarity, and the bashfulness something Tommy had never seen in him before. “She wrote that piece on me for The City Scoop.”

“I wondered why that interview was so flattering, fucked your interviewer did you?”

“Took her out to dinner first mate,” he says with a grin, making Tommy shake his head. “I’m telling you, it’s fucking nice having someone around who wil-“

“Suck your cock?”

“She is good at that mate. Nah I’m telling you, it’s nice having a woman around to keep me company,” he says, and Tommy rolls his eyes.

“Fuck, you have gone soft,” Tommy mutters, shaking his head.

“Maybe so. It ain’t that bad though. Maybe it’s time you find yourself a girl, might be good for you.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, downing the rest of his drink to avoid replying which only causes Alfie’s grin to spread wider his face lighting up.

“Or do you already have a girl Thomas?”

“I’ve been talking with a woman yes,” he offers, though doesn’t elaborate as he orders another drink.

“Talking aye? And where did you meet her?”

“Tinder,” Tommy mutters, fingers itching to reach into his pocket for a cigarette the no-smoking laws the only thing stopping him.

Alfie scoffs, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his beard while Tommy glares at him.

“What?”

“Fucking tinder? Can’t meet a girl the old-fashioned way, aye?”

Tommy clenches his jaw at the insinuation, choosing not to rise to the comment as his hand reaches into his pocket, fingers brushing against his cigarette case.

“Like having a magazine send a journalist to your work? That old way you mean?” He runs the cigarette along his bottom lip and glares at the bartender who moves to tell him that he can’t smoke indoors, piercing eyes daring anyone to test him.

Tommy’s phone lights up and he immediately turns it face down, “besides, easier isn’t it? Haven’t got time to be spending on women in bars or journalists I need to write a good profile about me because I punched someone without thinking.”

The smirk on Tommy’s face tells Alfie that he’s joking, but the bearded man takes a sip of his beer without a hint of amusement washing over his features.

“Never knew Tommy Shelby to be so desperate that he’d turn to fucking Tinder.“ Tommy scowls and takes a long drag on his cigarette

“And I never knew Alfie Solomons to be so soft that he’d have his girl as the fucking wallpaper on his phone.”

Alfie shakes his head, hours flying before he finished what could have been his third or sixth drink, his hand resting on Tommy’s shoulder as he stood.

“I’ll be off now then,” he says, before leaning in to speak directly in Tommy’s ear. “And by the way mate, I was thinking before I punched Sabini.”

Patting Tommy’s shoulder, he makes his way out of the pub turning back to look at his friend.

“Nice seeing you mate, give me a call next time you’re in London.”

What Tommy has failed to tell his friend was that if things went well, he saw himself spending a lot more time in the capital. He suspected his friend might have something to say about his admission that he would want to spend more time away from his hometown, and he had won the battle of who was more whipped. At least for now.

#tinder tommy #tommy shelby au #modern peaky blinders au #its been a long while lads im sorry

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journeymanwithpen · 4 years

Text

A Story of Split

I recently visited Split, Croatia. It's steeped in history. Wherever you turn, you’re mired in it. When you lean back in your chair in one of the numerous cafes of the old town, your shirt is brushing against 1700-year-old Roman wall. You sip your coffee and can almost hear in your mind the banter of legionnaires who leaned against this same wall with cups of wine during the break from duty. Houses of the downtown Split sprout like unruly hair from within the Roman limestone walls dating from 3rd century A.D. The city’s Cathedral of St. Domnius is consecrated in 7th century. The black granite sphinx guarding the front entrance to the cathedral is estimated to be from 15th century B.C. It is no wonder then that an aspiring scribe who finds himself walking the cobblestone streets of ancient times can’t stop imagination from running wildly back through centuries. Allow me to take you through the time to the very beginning of Split:

The year is 260. We are standing at the seashore in Aspàlathos, a Greek trading outpost in a charming bay on the central coast of Dalmatia. Several ships are tied to the shore, their sails folded like the wings of seagulls lining their masts and the shore. Slaves and sailors bustle over gangplanks, unloading ships and loading the others. At our back, the habitat is not much to look at, just a few rows of stone houses stretching along the shore. Most of them have dual function, as a warehouse and an abode. People who own them are from the Greek colony of Issa on the island of Vis. It’s about half a day sail south-southwest from here. Aspàlathos was built for one purpose: trade. It's trading with Dalmatae and other Illyrian tribes inhabiting the coast and hinterland of the Balkans, and with Romans from Salona, a metropolis of 60,000 souls, the Roman capital of the province of Dalmatia, and a cultural, political and commercial center of the region. It sits less than two-hour walk, or half an hour on a fast horse from Aspàlathos.

Next to us stands a lanky youth. His shoulders are wide and long muscles are taught from military training. His hair is cropped short, revealing high brow and sharp features. He wears a legionnaire's uniform, with leather-strap sandals instead of boots, common for legionnaires on those warm days of spring. He gazes into the distance, dreaming of faraway places, dreaming of seeing Rome one day. He's only 16, eager to leave family's nest. Next to him stands a man with stooped shoulders holding his hands behind his back. Man's fingers are smeared with ink, an unmistakable mark of a scribe. His squints at the youth.

"Diocles, my son," the man speaks, "go with fortune and may Jupiter keep you safe and return you to us. When you can, send us a word, so that we know you're alive and well." The man places a hand on Diocles's shoulder and the youth turns to meet his eyes.

"Remember," the man continues, "when you tire of marching and battles, your home will wait for you. You won't find a better place to rest than this." The man swipes an arm wide over the peaceful bay, the village and rolling green hills behind it.

Diocles smiles at the man. "I know, father. Thank you. It's time to go back to my legion."

They clasp forearms for a long moment, eyes locked on each other's. Then Diocles breaks the hold and walks with long, impatient strides north, across the hills, toward Salona and its garrison. His father returns to the house which is also his office. A scribe is an important part of every trade, the hand that writes contracts, permits, receipts and counts coins. Unfortunately, most of those coins are transferred from one client to another, from a buyer to a seller. A pay for scribe's services will not build him a palace. Diocles's father is doing alright, keeping his family well fed and clothed, with solid roof over their head, and a nice little farm where his wife tends to her cabbages which grow so well in this weather. He hoped to pass all this to Diocles one day, but the youth is eager to see the world, as young men often are. And what better way to do it, but with the mightiest army of the time: Roman legions.

Thirty-five years later, in 295 A.D., the youth who is now a man of over 50, returns to the bay of his youth. He observes the works started to build a large structure that will stretch from the seashore and climb the gentle slope of the hill. His name has changed, as is his appearance; he is stockier now, almost stout. His chestnut hair, streaked with grey throughout, recedes further from his brow, and his jaw and face are covered by neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard and moustache. A toga picta died Tyrian purple was draped over his shoulders, marking his stature. He is Gaius Aurelius Valerius Diocletianus, or Diocletian, the emperor of the Roman Empire. The structure whose foundations are just being built is going to be known as Diocletian's Palace.

In the year 305 A.D. Imperator Caesar Gaius Aurelius Valerius Diocletianus - Diocletian for short - took his stroll along the raised promenade atop the southern wall of his new home. Flowerbeds and trees lined the promenade on both sides to offer the emperor shade from the scorching Adriatic sun. A few marble benches were placed in regular intervals to allow a breathtaking view over the Brettia channel at the islands Brettia (today's Brač) and Solentium (today's Šolta). The emperor moved with shuffling steps, leaning on a cane for support. He was gaunt, his cheeks were hollowed, his shoulders stooped and boney. His skin was grey and a size too large for a man he became. Diocletian was fighting an ailment for over a year, a mysterious illness that almost killed him. It left him emaciated and weak. Next to Diocletian walked a stout man with powerful if somewhat stooped shoulders and strong arms clasped leisurely behind his back. He had open round face with eyes perpetually half-closed and eyebrows that climbed a touch too high, giving him a disbelieving, inquisitive expression. The lower half of his face was obscured in bushy dark hair which greyed at the sides, trimmed to follow the line of a strong jaw. His meaty lips were slightly downturned as if in disapproval. He was Maximian Herculius, co-emperor and Diocletian's partner in ruling the empire that grew too big for a single person to rule over. When Diocletian was confirmed as the emperor of Rome, he turned east to secure the eastern borders of the empire. He soon realized that the news from the Gaul and western borders of the empire travelled too long and his imperial decisions and decrees weren't reaching the west in time. To remedy it, Diocletian elevated his friend Maximian to Cesar, and soon after Augustus, making him equal in status, an emperor in the west, although Diocletian's seniority gave him the upper hand in decision-making. The two worked well together, Maximian's military brawn complemented Diocletian's political wisdom and the alliance born of friendship lasted throughout the twenty years of their rein.

Reaching the bench, Diocletian gingerly lowered himself on it and lifted his face toward the healing warmth of Dalmatian sun. The almost forgotten scent of the homeland wafted to his nostrils.

"I think, my friend, that I can get easily used to retirement," he smiled. "I already feel better."

"You'll miss the action when your strength returns," Maximian grunted in response. "Is your wife joining you?"

Diocletian shook his head. "Prisca is staying in Thessalonica with Galerius and Valeria. She may come when my strength returns."

Galerius was Diocletian son-in-law and successor, the Cesar in the East. His wife - Diocletian's daughter Valeria asked her mother Prisca to stay with them.

"Come Maximian," Diocletian reached his hands to his friend who helped him stand up - "let me show you the gardens. I'm going to grow cabbage here, the way my family did." They walked on to the colonnaded gardens accessible from the promenade.

Diocletian's failing health made the other emperors of the tetrarchy convince him and Maximian to retire. Weakened by disease, Diocletian accepted without much objection. Maximian resisted at first, but Diocletian talked him into leaving the post to younger men. Not suffering idleness well, Maximian sailed to visit his friend's retirement home.

It was an imposing fortress built at the place Diocletian called home so many decades earlier. An impressive walled compound had 16 watchtowers along east, west and north land-facing walls. The only unfortified wall was the southern wall, built on the edge of the sea. Its only opening was a small landing for the imperial galley and supply ships. The walls were built of large limestone blocks. An arcaded gallery bearing the tree-lined promenade stretched along the south wall. The imperial palace with private living quarters and audience hall covered the south half of the fortress. A Peristyle with a balcony from which the emperor greeted his subjects was the very center of the compound. The west side of the Peristyle housed the temple of Jupiter with gardens built for worshipers. The emperor attended the round temple of Jupiter on the east side of the square. The main streets traversing the fortress from east to west and north, met at the forum on the north edge of the Peristyle. The north half of the compound held twin military garrisons for the emperor's legions.

Upon Diocletian's death in 312 A.D., the palace was reclaimed as a property of Roman Republic, and was used as a refuge for exiled dignitaries and deposed rulers. In 7th century A.D. the Roman metropolis of Salona was sacked and destroyed by invading Slavs. Refugees fled from the ruins of the city to find refuge within Spalato's fortified walls. Once luxurious palace and garrison compound was taken down. Its stones were used to build many smaller houses. With time, the willy-nilly building continued outside the Roman walls, under different rulers. Venetians built another set of walls to protect the city from the Croatian-Hungarian and later Ottoman threat. Parts of the wall, as well as "Mletačka kula" (The Venetian Tower) have grown into the tissue of modern days Split.

#writing #amwriting #history #historical fiction #travel #split #spalato #croatia #roman empire #diocletian #ancient

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knittastically · 5 years

Text

A Lioness Amongst the Wolves Pt 28

POSS/PROB NSFW, Depends on your POV. THE DECISION IS YOURS

This is a looooong Chapter be warned.

Thank you all for your patience this chapter has been a long time coming but serious Family issues took precedence, as indeed they should. It is likely that this will be the last chapter for a little while. However I am not abandoning the idiots just yet and have several ideas for future chapters. By way of a change I might have a dalliance with the rather lovely John Porter.

Raymond de Merville did not die on a beach in Ireland, of course he didn’t. He made it back to Rouen and has decided to marry a feisty little baggage called Isabé.

A fiction, based hardly at all on a fiction, with the addition of some other fictional characters and one or two real ones

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

Part 27

You can also find all chapters here on AO3

If you want in or out of the Tag List (at the bottom of the page) just let me know via message and it’ll be done in a flash.

Squinting against the first vicious rays of sunlight, my head pounds. Not for a moment did I think I would spend my wedding night sleeping in a hard chair. My back and neck are stiff. Ribs and chest ache from the effort of screaming, yelling and crying, and each time I swallow my throat burns. Raymond was right, I did not close my eyes that night but not in the way he insinuated. I need something to drink, to slake my thirst and ease my throat but there’s nothing to hand, more fool me! The water ewer and basin are in pieces on the floor, the cups are God knows where; as for wine all that’s left is a dark stain on the wall ending in a sticky puddle glueing potsherds to the floor.

The bedchamber looks like a battlefield and most things that could be used as a missile have been. The footstool is upended in the corner, food is scattered on the floor, and along with my shift, my wedding gown is a crumpled, wine stained, rag flung under the table. Turning stiffly, I look across to where Raymond is sprawled face down across the mattress, his head is turned away from me and one of my shoes lies next to him on the pillow. It was the last thing I threw at him but I missed; it bounced off the wall, and all night it has laid where it fell, bastard I hate him! Raymond mumbles in his sleep but barely moves, and the distance between chair and bed might as well be a chasm between us.

My eyes prick with tears as I remember him speaking the words that bound us together. His beautiful eyes sparkling as starting with my thumb, he placed the ring over it and then each finger as he declared. “In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” Finally, he placed it over my ring finger with the words; *Lo te esposy, Molher* and slid it gently down over the knuckles. Then drawing me towards him he whispered. “Mon amour, Mon coeur, Ma Vie." "The words are inscribed inside the ring Isabé, never forget them.” Despite his large, calloused, soldiers’ hands, his touch was gentle as he cupped my face, his lips soft and warm as he brushed them against mine, but his eyes, oh God, his eye sparkled and flashed, speaking silently of things to come.”

I pull my cloak tightly round me; not for warmth, just the comfort of it. My eyes are gritty, and with a sigh I lean back in the chair praying for sleep. I am in that drowsy half world between sleeping and waking, and I feel as if I am floating.

“Mon Amour, Mon Coeur, Ma Vie:” The soothing words slide into my ears as I feel the gentle brush of lips and beard against my forehead. “Raymond?” “Shhh my love, hush. He settles me down into softness and slides in beside me.

“Fuck” I feel him jolt, then something hits the floor...the shoe

Earlier

Raymonds fingers snag a little on the delicate fabric of my gown as he slides his hand oh so slowly up the inside of my leg and as he presses a kiss to my knee, I feel the heat of his mouth through the silk of my wedding gown. A slow, easy, confident smile settles on his lips as he hesitates for a moment before brushing the tips of his long fingers up along the crease of my hip and hidden from view cups his hand gently over the mound of soft flesh between my thighs. It was the lightest touch, but my breath catches, and my eyes widen as I hold his look hoping to stare him down and conceal the fact that I burn for him. He is so sure of himself I swat his hand away and hiss at him “You are too forward My Lord, are you trying to claim a husbands rights before you are my husband, be I careful I don’t say no to you and leave you on the Cathedral steps.”

“Mon Coeur, we both know that I have already claimed a husbands rights in part, and I don’t recall any complaints from you.” The slight breeze ruffles his unfashionably short hair, Raymond is ever the soldier and doesn’t subscribe to the longer, sleek styles favoured by the courtiers. His broad smile reaches his eyes and settles into creases around them; eyes full of mischief. “Chérie, be careful” He warns me with a low growl that it’s a mistake to dare him, because where I am concerned, he will always take up the challenge.

“I said nothing.” “Perhaps not in words my darling, but your eyes, they say a great deal” He smirks at me. “Now we should go, it would not do to keep His Grace waiting.” And as he mounts up on Diable, Mattieu barks out the order to the escort and we make our way into the city and towards the Cathedral.

“Raymond why couldn’t we have married in the family Chapel?”

“I should have preferred that Chérie, all this overblown nonsense just for show but protocol demands that the Baron de Merville marries in the Cathedral, in full view of everyone. Perhaps I should have eloped with you that would have been easier still.”

“Pfft, eloping is a young man’s game, I wouldn’t have wished to put such a strain on an old soldier” His eyebrows fly almost to his fringe, then he raises just the left one. “Most considerate of you.” He drawls, “I shall ask you in the morning whether you still believe me to be an old man or not.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a lazy smile, and heat rising in my cheeks isn’t entirely due to the sun beating down. It is only as we are being greeted by His Grace that I realise Raymond has called himself Baron.

Archbishop Robert III Poulain waits before the great West Doorway of what is no more than a glorified building site. A raging fire 9 years ago saw to that and not much remains of the once magnificent Cathedral; a few stones here and there, some of the columns and the Tour Saint Romain. I catch sight of Henri and he blows me a kiss it’s the sign we agreed and I heave a sigh of relief.

We stand before His Grace as he blesses us with Holy water and begins the ceremony. **“Raymond Christophe de Merville vis accipere Isabé Aaliz Pelletier hic præséntem in tuam legítimam uxórem iuxta ritum sanctaæ matris Ecclésiæ?”**

Now is my moment, and taking a deep breath, I draw myself to my full height, which is to say the top of my head is somewhere near Raymonds shoulder and I speak out in as firm a voice as I can manage. “Your Grace, Pelletier is not my name.” Surprise registers on his face and he gapes a little as he looks from me, to Raymond, to The King and back again to me. I hear the gasps and muttering of the congregation nearest to us.

“Isabé, what are you up to.?” Raymond hisses. “Don’t worry.” I slip my hand into his, gently squeezing his fingers, it gives me courage and I continue.

“My name was created to protect me.” Archbishop Poulain regards me through narrowed eyes, I hesitate and wonder if I am doing right but it is too late now, and I plough on. “The name I wish to have recorded is Isabé Aaliz Fournier – Bouvier” Those nearest to us gasp, the significance of birth and ancestry is not lost on them, and both men are well known. Blanche, Henri and of course Sebastien are the focus of everyone’s attention; Sebastien Fournier smiles at me whith such a look of pride and joy on his face. Henri nods, Blanche presses her fingers to her lips and blows me a kiss, she is the one who will have to bear the gossip and tittle-tattle, yet she has agreed to this.

“I love you, my beautiful, fearless Lioness.” Raymond raises my hand to his lips.

The sun beats down hot and unrelenting and my heart is pounding so much I can hear it.

“What are you waiting for Poulain?” The King’s words ring out above the commotion. “Record the name and continue with the ceremony.” and with his voice only a little shaky the Archbishop begins again.

“Raymond Christophe de Merville, vis accipere Isabé Aaliz Fournier - Bouvier hic præséntem in tuam legítimam uxórem iuxta ritum sanctaæ matris Ecclésiæ?” It’s credit to Raymond than when he answers his voice carries only the faintest hint of a laugh

“Volo”

His Grace still glowering asks in a sharp voice. Isabé Aaliz Fournier - Bouvier, vis accípere Raymond Christophe de Merville hic præséntern in tuum legítimum marítum iuxta ritum sanctæ matris Ecclésiæ?

“Volo”

I smile up at Raymond as he removes the small gold ring from the little finger of his right hand, it is blessed by the Archbishop, returned, and Raymond speaks the words which make me his wife.

We are married in law and all I want is for us to leave now, to escape from the clamour of the guests and the heat of the day but the Nuptial Mass must be endured, and it is interminable. At last we kneel as the canopy is lowered over us, a pristine white veil the size of a bed sheet; sheilding us from everyone but God, and as we prostrate ourselves on the cool newly swept floor, it is held only inches above us. We are now one body, one flesh and protected by the Almighty. I’d rather be protected by Raymond; he is a far more ruthless bodyguard. As we wait for the final blessing, he shuffles closer to me and not caring whether anyone sees him strokes his hand down over my back, though the whole congregation must surely have heard my squeak of surprise as he squeezes my arse. I glare across at him, his face is a picture of innocence as he whispers. “Soon, Mon Coeur, Soon.” “You are shameless My Lord” I hiss back at him, but my feigned annoyance doesn’t stop the heat I feel.

The moment we stand to make our way to the great door, a blur of dark hair and blue gown speeds towards Raymond. “Papa,” With a squeal, Nicolette launches herself at her father and he sweeps her straight up into his arms, beaming at her. “Papa, can I ride home with you on Diable?” he kisses her cheek. “Oh, little sparrow I don’t think that is a good idea.” The corners of her mouth turn down as she frowns at him, then wheedles. “Please Papa, please.” “Sweetheart, you know he is an ill-tempered brute and with these crowds he might not behave.”

From the corner of my eye I see Eleanor pushing her way towards us, ignoring the contemptuous, disapproving looks of her “Betters”. “Nicolette, that is not the way to behave in church child.” Her boisterous daughter flashes her a mutinous look then settles herself against Raymond, then twines her arms around his neck as she nuzzles her nose into his beard and kisses him “But he likes me Papa and I’m not scared of him, I feed him apples.” I hear the slightly strangled noise in his throat as he croaks. “Eleanor?”

“Don’t look to me on this Raymond.”

“What have you been up to you little imp, the truth now hein.” She drops her head and pouts; Raymond catches my eye and I press my lips together in an effort not to laugh. “I just go to the stables and hide until the boys go away, then give them to him, it’s alright I do it just the way you showed me with my pony, and he doesn’t hurt me, it tickles my hand when he takes them.” She giggles. “He puts his head down and lets me stroke him.”

“Christ and all his saints, I’ll have the hides of those idiot stable lads.”

“No Papa, I go in and hide until they’ve gone away.”

“Oh, she is definitely her father’s daughter Raymond.” I grin at him he gives me “That” look, rolling his eyes at me

“Sweetheart, he’s dangerous.” He kisses the tip of Nicolette’s nose. “Not with me.” Nicolette sets her mouth in a tight little line and juts her chin out.

“Nor me.” I remind him quietly as I rest my hand lightly on his arm. “Now stop trying to frighten her and let her ride with you.” I wink at Eleanor; her smile is warm and genuine.

“Before you go Madame.” Eleanor steps towards me. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

“For God’s sake then ask me Eleanor, there is no need of formality, it is Isabé to you” I drop a sisterly kiss to her cheek. The wife acknowledges the "Sometime Mistress," she and Nicolette have my friendship and protection.” let the hypocrites think what they like.

“Isabé, when his Majesty leaves here, I am ordered travel with him to Paris and then I go South. I have no idea how long my commission will take me away from home and from Nicolette; would you be willing to care for her whilst I’m away?” “Of course Eleanor, don’t worry on that score. Besides, I think she would run rings around her Grandfather in a very short time” “Between you and me, Isabé she already does.” I lay a hand on her arm. “We shall take great care of her;" Raymond is standing beside me and I smile up at him in time to catch the look that passes between them and it unsettles me.

By the time we reach the Chateau, I fell hot, sticky and more than a little crabby; people have been crowding around us pressing and shoving and I am glad the Hall is cooler, sweet with the scent of herbs and decked out in as much finery as could be gathered together. The colourful banners sway in what little breeze comes through the doors. Every table is covered with a linen cloth, cleaned and bleached until it is pristine white and the best of the household table ware is set on it, heaven knows where it was dug it out from, but I suspect most of it hasn’t been used in years.

Fournier strides over, and I move to embrace him, I know that all eyes are on us, but he catches hold of my right hand and bows to me. His voice is solemn but his eyes twinkle. “Welcome, Madame de Merville.” Quietly he adds, “Daughter” Protocol has been preserved,

“Forgive me for yesterday…. Father, I…” He cuts me off quietly, “Daughter, there is nothing to forgive.” And with a broad smile he steps back, turns to face the high table and slams the point of his staff to the floor to bring everyone to order as Philip Augustus King of France takes his place as guest of honour.

Du Four has surpassed himself, and my Father has likely bankrupted the household. A wedding feast is a costly business but when The King is guest of honour, then you had best be ready to ignore the expense and simply raid the coffers. Imported wines and the best Ales flow freely, attentive pages make sure that cups are never drained. Dish after dish of food is served all bathed in rich sauces thickened with almonds or cream and flavoured with herbs or expensive spices, dried fruits, lemons and bitter oranges. When you feed a king, then there is no budget.

But I have little appetite, excitement and nerves have seen to that and so I only manage to pick at one or two mouthfuls. A stream of guests keeps me occupied as they offer gifts and congratulations and my face aches from smiling politely. Raymond coaxes me to eat, offering me choice morsels speared from his own platter. “Isabé” he strokes my leg “I wish you would eat something, because I can promise that you will need your strength, you won’t close your eyes before daybreak.” His voice is husky and seductive as he offers me another titbit, this time from his fingers, brushing them gently against my lips, coaxing me to part them.

I see the wolfish glint in his eyes, he is playing me the bastard. Too little food and a little too much wine, makes me reckless and two can play at those games. I keep my own eyes firmly fixed on his as he pops the morsel into my mouth. Closing my lips around the tips of his fingers, I gently suck the rich sauce from them. Does anyone notice? I don’t care if they do. Even bolder now, I slide my hand up the inside of his leg, barely ghosting over the fabric, but he feels it. Up and up to the join of hip and thigh until I can go no further, still our gaze is locked, still he is daring me, and I take the challenge, rippling my fingers over his groin. There it is, that soft rumble in the back of his throat, as his eyes widen, then flutter closed for a moment: suddenly he slaps his large hand over mine. From beneath his heavy-lidded eyes he watches me for a moment and catches his lower lip between his teeth biting hard. Then he leans across to me. “Mon Coeur, you had best be careful what games you choose to play, because if you keep teasing I’ll not wait to get you into bed, I’ll haul you behind the screens passage and fuck you where we stand no matter who sees.”

Oh, and he would do it, I know he wood and though his voice is no more than a whisper, it is as hot as hellfire, I turn away and reach for my wine, the cup shakes in my hand as I take a mouthful. I am served right; I should know better than to dare him. There are times when I can barely withstand Raymond’s powerful heat, it makes me wary and wanton in equal measure, as I glance back at him, he is grinning, I still can’t hold his look so I bury my face in my wine cup once more, and thank God I am rescued by His Majesty.

“You know Madame, not once did I imagine I should ever see Raymond married, except of course to his chosen profession”

“Not even when the redoubtable Eleanor Forrestier crossed his path Sire?

“Not even then, nor even after the birth of their daughter, despite scandalising everyone by living as man and wife. Somehow the thought of marriage didn’t seem to appeal to either of them.” He smiles reassuringly at me; does he sense, I wonder, that deep down I still have fears and misgivings concerning them?

“Well Sire I can see how a life in your service that is dedicated to diplomacy, espionage, and assassination wouldn’t easily lend itself to marriage, particularly if both husband and wife are employed in the same profession.” My voice is sharper than I’d intended, but Philip choses to ignore it, other than to raise a brow. He steeples his fingers, pressing them against his lips as he watches me closely. His smile broadens.

“But then, he came across you Isabé, and…” A string of foul oaths to my right interrupts the conversation, and I turn in time to see Raymond trying to get out of his seat. I hadn’t realised he was so drunk, though no doubt he’s had years of practice hiding the effects when it was necessary to do so; but tonight he has failed and has managed not only to entangle himself in his cloak but has somehow caught the hem of it firmly around chair. I snigger as he tries to free himself; glowering at me, he wobbles, trips and lands flat on his arse with chair on top of him. I try not to laugh, but it’s impossible, the shock on his face is comical. I hold my breath waiting for the tirade, but he just blinks, clearly confused as to how he ended up on the floor. Then starts to giggle like an idiot, whilst an unfortunate page tries to haul him back onto his feet. No easy task as the lad is slight, no taller than I am, and Raymond is flailing around like a cat on ice. Finally, he is upright.

Swaying, he points at me, leers and pokes me on the breast. “Soft” he slurs, then adds in a whisper, which is anything but. “Need to piss, will come back and we’ll dance.” He turns away too quickly, sweeps around in a full circle and looks mightily confused when he sees me still in front of him, rather than the exit to the kitchen. With careful, over deliberate steps he shuffles himself about then lurches through into the screens passage, presumably heading for the courtyard. I shudder, God help him trying to negotiate his layers of clothing.

“Your husband seems to have a liking for the wine tonight Madame de Merville.” I hesitate for a moment; the sound of my new name is still very strange to my ears.

“Indeed, sire too much of a liking it seems, and forgive me, but I think what you really mean is that he’s as drunk as a fiddlers bitch, if he drinks any more I should think he will have difficulty in raising a smile let alone much else this night; though at the moment Majesty I am more concerned that he will stamp my feet to a bloody pulp whilst we are dancing. I look away, oh God my tongue has run away with me and I will no doubt be disgraced by my over familiarity.

Even over the racket, anyone close by, hears me. Conversation tails away, Gaultier presses his lips into a tight thin line fighting a laugh. His Grace the Archbishop splutters into his wine cup, then frowns at me clearly shocked by my impertinence. “Isabé Aaliz”, Maman gives me my full name; a clear sign she is displeased, and Philip Augustus just stares at me. Then I see the twinkle in his eyes: his lips twitch, curl, then widen into a smile as he throws his head back, and he slaps both hands down flat on the table as he roars with laughter. “God and all his saints, but Raymond will have his work cut out with you Madame.” Then he whispers, “Now I know why the hard-bitten bastard fell for you Isabé; you are definitely the woman for him.”

He takes my left hand and raises it to his lips; then plucks the exquisite brooch from his own cloak and pins it to mine; the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed it marks me out as being in the King’s favour. Philip’s smile is broad and genuine, it’s clear that he has a real affection for Raymond. “Oh, and what a wife, quick, clever and beautiful: He is my Wolf Isabé, my eyes and ears, the guardian of my peace and dispenser of my justice. I appoint you "Keeper of my Wolf," keep him well, I wish you both long life, great happiness and God willing an heir.”

Before I can reply a page sidles up to me.” Madame, a message for you from the Seneschal, he regrets the intrusion, but he requests your assistance with an urgent matter” Frowning I scan his face. “Urgent?” “Yes Madame, it something he insists only you can resolve.”

Raymond, it can only be Raymond, blind drunk, and belligerent or slumped in a heap somewhere, sleeping it off and snoring like a hog, well he can damned well wait.

“You may tell the Seneschal I shall be there as soon as I can.” The lad is flustered. “Madame I am to say the Seneschal begs your pardon, but it is something that must be done straight away.” With shrug I turn to Philip.

“Majesty, I beg you to excuse me, it seems….”

Go, Isabé and when you return, then honour me with a dance.” He waves me away with a broad grin. I drop him an untidy curtesy, I have never really mastered that art, then follow the page towards the kitchens. The heat, smell and noise is enough to almost knock me flat and I stand in the doorway, peering through the smoke and steam, Fournier is not in the kitchen, nor is he in his makeshift office, I can’t see him amongst swearing, sweating pot boys and kitchen maids. Du Four is bellowing at the top of his voice, but he catches sight of me and jerks his head towards the door, yelling “Outside Madame.” I push my way over to the door, but Fournier is nowhere to be seen.

A strong arm snakes firmly around my waist, as a large hand is clamped firmly over my mouth, stifling my strangled scream, and in a panic I thrash and squirm to free myself “Hush my love, hush, be still.” The voice, the familiar chuckle, it’s Raymond, my first thought had been Théo. He presses his lips to my temple and as he sets me set down wrapping his arms more gently around me, I am conscious of the hard-muscled chest rising and falling against my back. It dawns on me that he isn’t slurring his words and relief gives way to anger as I twist around. “You aren’t drunk at all you bastard” I confront him punctuating the words with smacks to his chest. Raymond laughs “Forgive me my darling, I didn’t mean to frighten you, I just needed to get you out from the hall and this seemed the best way.”

He lowers his voice, to a seductive growl and it washes over me. “This is our wedding night Chérie and I’m not fool enough to render myself drunk and incapable; you see I intend to give you my absolute attention and nothing is going to hinder me in that.” His mouth is a feather touch on mine, he flicks his tongue against my lips, and I can’t help the mewl that escapes me. I know well what that tongue can do and can already feel heat flaring in my belly. “As for the other question, there is no way on this earth that we will spend our first night together to the accompaniment of a drunken rabble, prancing around outside our chamber, singing filthy songs and yelling even filthier jokes to encourage us.” Another kiss, his tongue flickers against mine. “Nor do we have need of the Archbishop, sprinkling Holy water and muttering incantations over the bed.” The third kiss and he scrapes his teeth over my lower lip and whispers against my mouth. “Because I am sure we can devise a suitable benediction of our own.” There is no mistaking the desire I his voice, but we have been missed, and the rowdy guests are already spilling out into the courtyard, and are dammed if they are going to be denied the traditional wedding night revels. “To bed, to bed, to bed.” The chanting grows louder, and the cry goes up. We have been seen Raymond is ready to fly.

“Chérie, hold tight to my hand, stay close by and when I say run, then run like hell.”

I catch sight of His Grace, walking towards us Philip is beside him, the guests are getting closer yelling and singing, Raymond grips my hand and growls, “Now, Isabé, move, now!” turning quickly he drags me along with him. I gather my skirts up out of the way and even though he shortens his stride, I struggle to keep pace with him as we dash across the courtyard; Raymond slows, dips and lifts me up slinging me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Before I even have chance to settle, he quickens his pace and with his arms wrapped around my thighs to keep me steady, runs towards the exercise yard as I bounce up and down on his shoulder. My veil and hair hang down and as I grip his belt with my right hand, I wriggle to get more comfortable’ “You have a very nice arse Raymond.” I yell up at him “very nice not an old man’s arse at all nice and firm.” I can’t help but giggle as I stroke my other hand over his backside then squeeze, hard. He missteps slightly and growls. “Behave woman, else I shall wallop yours and you’ll not sit down for a week.”

The laugh bubbles up in me. “Pfft I doubt I shall be doing much sitting My Lord.” Without answering he sets me down beside the massive gates leading to the exercise yard, shoves open the wicket and pushes me inside. I hear the door being slammed and barred shut behind us as we head for the tower in the far corner and I wonder what the hell we are doing going into a storeroom; when my eyes become accustomed to the dim light, I realise it’s not a storeroom, it’s a sally port. Guillaume is waiting inside for us with his own horse and Diable, who is snickering and pawing at the ground. The floor slopes downwards to another doorway directly opposite; it’s as high and wide as the one we have just entered, large enough for a mounted horse to pass straight through from one side to the other without the rider even lowering his head.

“All is ready as you ordered Monseigneur, Matthieu is out there and waiting.

“Thank you, Guillaume” Raymond heads through the second door to speak to Matthieu and has soon as he is gone, Guillaume whispers to me.

“Isabé I beg you if you can’t love him, then for my sake be kind to him, he deserves that at least, but I hope you can love him and love him well.” Before I can answer Raymond has returned and without a word lifts me up onto the stallions back and springs up behind me, as soon as he has gathered the reins up in his right hand, he clamps his left arm around me and with the slightest kick to the horse we are off. “Are you happy Mon Coeur?” His lips are soft against my temple and I purr a “Hmmm” in reply, as I lean back against him and close my eyes, lulled by the rhythm of the horse’s gait and the sway of our bodies. But as we pass through the city and finally through Western gate, I realise that this must have been well planned, we are not challenged by any of the watch or the guard despite it being long past curfew. And I know that for protection we are being followed by Guillaume and Matthieu, because occasionally, I hear other horses behind us, not too far distant.

It seems Blanche and Henri have given over the Manor to us and in turn they will occupy our chamber at the Chateau. The guest chamber is newly decorated, the bed is piled with pillows and draped with the best of the household linens and coverlets, the walls have been freshly lime washed. Lanterns with beeswax candles are placed around the room casting patches of soft light on the walls and floor; trays of food and wine have been set out and the well-wishers from the household have left, all that is except for Jehanne. She busies herself pouring scented water for me to wash, then sets too detaching the necklace she has used as a jewelled fillet to secure my veil. Raymond lounges against the far wall and glances out of the window, not that there is much to see in the dusk.

“Jehanne you may leave that; my wife has no need of you now.” There is a tenderness in his voice as he says, “my wife”, but Jehanne only looks up sharply and stares at him, from her expression, you’d think Raymond had asked her to strip naked and juggle candle spikes.

“M’amselle Mercier I am asking you to leave, I am perfectly capable and more than willing to help Madame disrobe, I’m sure you understand.” He winks at her; she sets her jaw and squares up to him feet planted slightly apart, hands on hips

“Raymond forgive me, but Jehanne is not your servant to dismiss, even though she is now part of your household.” “My love.” He smiles indulgently. “We have no need of Jehanne, these rough hands will do just as well. He strokes his fingers down my cheek.

“Monseigneur, tonight most of all, it is right and proper that I am here to help Madame.” Jehanne is on her high horse, her tone is cool, polite, and completely lacking in any respect whatsoever.

“Jehanne.” Raymond steps towards her. “Tonight, of all nights I have no mind to allow anyone other than myself to help my Bride disrobe. The choice is yours, go now, else I shall sling you over my shoulder and dump you on your backside out in the corridor.” Raymond growls at her, but it is not very. The time for curfew has passed, but no one stops us as we make our way through the city threatening, and she will not give.

“I have my duties. Monseigneur” and as she steps towards me again, Raymond hefts her up off her feet and shrieks like a doused cat; he strides towards the door and as promised carries her out: her face is purple with fury. “Descoteaux, to me now!” he bellows and immediately I hear the Captain thudding up the stairs, just in time to see his Lord setting Jehanne down on her backside. “Take this baggage away man, and tell whoever is to bring our food in the morning to knock then leave it outside the door.” Stifling his laughter, Mathieu helps Jehanne to her feet, and before he can answer Raymond, the chamber door is slammed shut.

He sees me struggling to unpin the necklace Jehanne used as a fillet, it is fixed so securely to my veil and the band beneath, that if I continue to worry at it, I’ll likely tear the delicate fabric. “Isabé let me.” He is careful, deft and practiced, of course he is; I wonder how many times he has done the same for Eleanor, he lays the necklace on the table, then unpins the veil from the band. “Chérie,” He draws me towards him, and threads his fingers through my hair, his lips are warm and soft against mine. “Mon Coeur,” he whispers. “I have some news that you should hear, though I doubt you will like it; I had planned to tell you this tomorrow but there is no easy way and I suppose sooner is better than later.” He smiles at the anxious look on my face. “Sweetheart, I have an assignment from His Majesty, a week from tomorrow I must leave Rouen and travel to Paris, where I shall take command of the Kings forces and then travel South.” He flashes me a rueful smile as he pours two cups of wine handing one to me.

I can only stare at him and feel a knot forming in my stomach. “Be calm Isabé.” I tell myself, “Be calm you are not a silly girl you are the bride, if not yet the wife of Raymond De Merville.” But it seems my heart is hell bent on ignoring my head.

“You must think I’m an idiot Raymond. Now I understand the look that passed between you and Eleanor, when she asked me to take care of Nicolette.” I had meant my words to be cool and calm, but I sound like a petulant child.

“What?” Cocking his head on one side his face smooths and slides into a benign mask.

“There.” I poke him in the chest and step back. “There, is the, inoffensive, calm expression of the King’s Ambassador, I see what the two of you are about now, conniving and scheming. You promised, me, the pair of you that you would not fuck each other in your bed Raymond, but I grant there was no mention made of any other.” As I raise my hand to wallop his face, he grabs my wrist stalling the blow; his fingers digging hard into my flesh. When he speaks, he is considered and careful, as if he is trying to make Nicolette understand something. “No, Isabé, you do not see; you do not see at all.”

“Then forgive me for being stupid and help me to grasp what you mean, My Lord; what stamp of man waits until his wedding night to tell his Bride that he is leaving in a week to travel South, and with his bloody Mistress.” I wrench my arm free and as I step back, he steps forward, his eyes burning like blue fire, we are almost toe to toe, he towers over me, but he lets go a breathy grunt as I slam my balled fists into his chest.

“Don’t you dare tell me that you hadn’t planned all along to keep her as your Mistress you scheming bastard. No, you have taken great pains pretending to put her aside, just to mollify little Isabé.” I aim my fists at his chest again, but this time he grabs at both my wrists.

“Shut up Isabé, I made a promise and so did Eleanor, as I stand by mine, so she will stand by hers.”

“You can’t tell me that your paths won’t cross Raymond, if you do, I shan’t believe you.”

“Mother of God, listen to yourself woman!”

“Let go of me you arse.” Twisting and turning, I try to wrench myself free of him, but he tightens his grip on my wrists. “I said let go, if you think I’m spending my wedding night with you, then you had best think again, you are lying, conniving shit.”

I’m in no mood to play the Lady, I scream and curse him with every barrack room oath I have ever heard Hénri use. He loosens his grip slightly and as I yank my arm away, I aim a kick at his shins for good measure; he shifts smartly to one side so I miss, of course.

His eyes are even darker now, I know that look, he is fiercely angry, and though his voice is low it sends a shiver down my spine; calm, angry Raymond is enough to chill my blood, and I step back quickly.

“There is no plan between us Madame. “I have my assignment, Eleanor will have hers, our paths may cross but it is unlikely and that is an end to it, she will be well on her way before I even leave Rouen.

“So, you say. His Majesty says jump and you ask, “How High” then run off South to fuck Eleanor up, down and sideways. Well do it and get a bastard son on her and name him heir into the bargain. It will save me the trouble of it all. You should have married her she would make you a far better wife than I will.” I will not let the tears fall no matter how much they sting and burn; I refuse to let him see me weep because of her. Suddenly he lunges at me and grabs at my shoulders hauling me forward until I slam into his chest. Pressing his forehead to mine, he is so close that I can’t see his features only the furrows and frown lines on his brow. His eyes glitter, but not with anger, with sadness and I feel the heat of him through my gown.

“I have no need to get a son on Eleanor, nor even on you Isabé, I already have a son.” He breathes out the words like the last whisper of a dying man, nonetheless, they are as solid as a punch to my stomach. I can’t speak, my heart is pounding and as he steps away the words slowly seep into my brain. Raymond’s face is so pale in the soft light, that his scar seems even more livid against his ashen skin, and realise from his shocked expression that he had not intended to tell me about his son; at least not yet.

The keening starts deep in my chest, rises and when it escapes, the howl of a wounded animal echoes around the room. I lurch towards the table, grab anything within easy reach and launch it at him, apples, chunks of bread, platters. Few of them connect as I hurl them, but I need to smash, break and destroy something, anything to help release the anger and pain. “My God you bastard, you conniving, scheming, lying bastard.” The words drop from my mouth like venom.

“I did not lie to you Isabé”

“Bollocks!” I step toe to toe with him. I swear I see the slightest grin ghosting across his lips, but when I blink it’s gone. “So you did not lie, but were you ever going to tell me I wonder?” I have to tilt my head back a little to stare him in the eyes. Or were you just going to keep quiet, until the day a strapping young man strides into the Chateau, demanding his right of inheritance. Strutting around while I smile graciously, forced accept that any son, I may bear you is disinherited. Am I to sit there like some silly, obedient little fool as the bastard is made heir while the household looks on in pity?” There is no answer from him.

“Where is he Raymond” I growl at him. “Is he in Rouen with his whore of a mother or have you hidden the bastard elsewhere, Paris perhaps? “Answer me Raymond. You miserable prick, damn you ANSWER ME!” I snatch up the ewer then send it crashing to the floor, sprays of water and shards of pot spatter over Raymond’s boots. The wine jug is next and as I grab for it, Raymond lunges across, but I snatch it out of his reach, slopping some of the contents down my wedding gown. An arc of wine shimmers in the candlelight as the pot sails past him and smashes to pieces against the wall, staining the new plaster.

In a flash, he has me whirled around and pinned against the table, knocking the breath from me. “A warning Isabé, I beg of you, for your own sake, never, never speak of them in that way again, you know nothing of it” His voice is breathy and cracked, his eyes full of such pain, and sadness as he blinks furiously, and I realise he is blinking back tears, but my heart won’t soften “They have names, they are Theodora and Christophe and I have neither seen, nor heard of them for over five years.” With a deep shuddering sigh, he scrubs the palms of his hands up and down over his face and back up through his hair making it stick out at wild angles, and he looks every one of his forty-eight battered, hard fought, years.

“I am going to bed Isabé.” His voice is barely a whisper, he seems broken as he stretches out his hand to me. I answer him so quietly I doubt he hears, “If you think I’m going to lie with you, wedding night or no, then you had best think again Raymond; you would have no joy of it, and you would be as well to shove your pizzle into a knot hole than force me.” Oh, he hears me, and grabs arms digging into the flesh above my elbows. “You are my wife Isabé, mine in body and soul; my property to do with as I wish, and no one would condemn me if took you against your will. But think on this; whether drunk, sober or crazed, I have never, in my life forced a woman against her will and never shall.

He is hurting, I can see it in his eyes, but for a second, there is such tenderness there as he strokes his fingers down my cheek, then gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before he turns away. I watch him for a moment as he starts to undress, then turn my back. The bed creaks as he slides beneath the covers and I sneak a glance and he is laying on his side with his back to me. In a last act of pettiness, I fling my shoe at him, it bounces off the wall and lands beside him; he doesn’t even flinch. Arsehole.

NOW

The sun has moved, and a soft light filters into the room. With a loud, unladylike yawn, I stretch to ease my aches, my headache has gone, and I feel better than I had expected to. As I lay back against the pillows, I remember strong arms, soft kisses and gentle words. Raymond! at least he cared enough to rescue me from the chair. I catch sight of him, arms folded legs crossed at the ankle, he is leaning against the wall by the window; and my breath stalls in my throat as I stare wide eyed. Except for his bandage, he is naked and I can’t stop myself looking him over from head to foot and back again, then down once more following that narrow line of hair that tracks a path down his belly, to the dark thatch below. Though I am still furious with him, it doesn’t keep me from staring with more than a little lust. Oh, there is no mistake, he is impressive even at rest. I catch him as he watches me from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, a gentle smile lifting one corner of his mouth; Soft light plays on the curves and planes of his broad shoulders and chest, and the lean, hard muscled limbs of a fit, fighting man. Gods saints, he is much more than handsome, he is beautiful.

Shifting his stance, Raymond holds his arms a little away from his body, palms towards me. The gesture of a supplicant seeking absolution for his sin of omission, and I am the only one who can grant him forgiveness. We need to settle this or live in a bitter sham of a marriage without love or respect, and barely enough politeness for appearances sake. Flinging the covers aside, I slip from the bed and start to cross the room to him.

“No, let me speak Isabé.” He holds his hands up as a barrier. “Can you forgive this stupid old fool, I had not meant to hurt you, but I have lived too long using secrets as my protection.” He inhales a deep breath, and I wait.

“I will not lie, there is a place in my heart which is held secure for Theodora and Christophe, it is locked to everyone else, even to you Mon Coeur, and, I will never give up trying to discover what became of them. This time when I step forward, he doesn’t stop me.

“Raymond, I should know better, you are not some idiot youth still wet behind the ears, you have had a hard, dangerous life, you have a past. It was naïve of me to think otherwise. There is room in everyone’s heart for any number of people Raymond, but you must promise that whatever space is left in yours, belongs to me.”I settle my right hand gently against his chest twisting my fingers gently amongst the hairs.

Stretching up on tiptoe, I slide my hands over his cheeks up into the longer hair on his head. Threading my fingers through it I draw his face towards me. My kiss is not tender, it’s fierce and needy as I push myself hard against him and as he groans into my mouth I unlace one hand from his hair and I slide it between us a, laying it almost along the length of him. It would take a hand much larger than mine to cover “La Bite.”

“Have I married a shameless baggage?”

“It will be your good fortune if you have, My Lord” With a deep, rumbling laugh he lifts me up, bracing his arms beneath my backside as I wrap my legs around him, I am greedy for him; Raymond knows it and picks his way carefully through the potsherds and missiles of the battlefield that is our chamber to carry me to bed; or so I think. The bed may be close, the table is closer, and he sets me down on the very edge, and shoving aside those things I didn’t hurl at him, he sends them clattering to the floor as I wrap my legs even more tightly around him. “Raymond!” Laughing and wriggling against him, I pretend to push him away in indignation, but he holds me firm. “You could at least have carried me to the bed.”

“Well it’s a step up from a stable my darling, and at least you won’t get straw stuck in your hair.” he kisses the soft skin beneath my ear then nips it for good measure. I smack his head. “No, but I’ll likely get splinters in my arse.”

His voice is a low murmur, washing over me. “Then my penance shall be to pick them out for you and kiss each wound to soothe it” “Oh that voice, I'm certain he could simply talk me to ecstasy.” I shiver as he skims his hands down over the curve of my hips, over my thighs and he frowns a little as his fingers gently track the long scar.

“Does it still give you pain Chéri?” he clips at my lips with soft kisses.

“Not so much, just sometimes when I have walked too far, or have stood for too long.”

Head on one side, he grins like a naughty little boy as he strokes his hands back up the insides of my thighs, barely touching the skin as he eases them apart slightly; and when he brushes his fingers oh so gently against those dark curls, I shudder and his name bubbles out of my mouth in a curious little squeak. “Christ Jesus, but you are beautiful, Isabé”

I’m sure he means it; I hear the desire in his growl; but still I must fight down my fears and uncertainties about Theodora and Eleanor. Those fears fade a little when he kisses me, and I realise from his feral look that he is hungry for me. But he is a master of control, and in his own sweet time, he tracks a path down my body, searching out those sweet. sensitive places as he peppers my skin with gentle kisses, nips and sweeps of his tongue. Chuckling with the simple joy of hearing me mewl, sigh and purr out his name. My nipples are tight and aching before he even sets his mouth to one, tracing lazy circles with his tongue raking it with his teeth, caressing and nipping the other with his fingers, lavishing attention on both and as I thread my fingers into his hair, he bites harder, strong teeth leaving marks of love and possession, I can barely think straight, the ache and heat between my thighs is raging and I feel the wetness there.

“Raymond” Whimpering his name, I unhitch my legs completely from around his waist parting them, inviting him. I know where I want that clever mouth and talented tongue to be, I know what it can do, and that thought alone sends that sweet ache searing through me again.

“Tell me what you need my beautiful isabé.” His hands flutter over my body, his touch sends fire through me.

“Your mouth, I need your mouth” I stutter and sob out the words. Eyes sparkling he shoots me a wicked grin. He understands, though he pretends not to. Stroking back my hair he drawls into my ear. “My Mouth, then tell me hein; where is the ache you need me to ease?” he kisses the soft skin between ear and jaw, “Is it here, my sweet?” He slides his lips down my neck. “ Or here?” A nip to my collarbone, “Perhaps this is the place.” Lowering his head further he licks at my left breast and sucks the nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. I am wriggling against the table keening in desperation as he laces the fingers of one hand into my hair, twisting it tight as he pulls my face towards him. I open my mouth to his and then a sweet shock almost lifts me from the table as he gently trails one finger down between my thighs and slowly slides it inside me. I can hear how wet I am, and he sets a slow, easy, rhythm that matches the dance of his tongue against mine. A second finger follows, then a third stretching, stroking, coaxing.

“Is this what you need Isabé, is this what you want my sweet wife, does it please you my love, or do you need more from me?” he whispers against my lips. Incapable of speech, I dig my fingers into his shoulders, then rake them hard down his chest, over his nipples, stroking down to his cock, trailing my fingers over the velvety skin. Sweet retalliation as swears, shudders and groans his head lolling back a little. But he snatches my hand away.

“No Isabé, there will be time enough for you to discover my needs and desires but for now.” He drops to knees and looks up at me his eyes burning. “For now, you are everything.” I see the smile on his lips before he dips his head and at that first soft breath, that first teasing kiss my, back arches and my hips snap forwards, but nothing stalls him. Delicate teasing kisses, his beard rasping against tender flesh, as he sucks, laps and scrapes with his teeth; growling out his pleasure. He holds me steady and I whine his name, as again he slides one finger then another inside me setting up that sweet aching rhythm matching the teasing of his tongue. I am burning, but not in hell, though the heat of me is enough to set fire to the air, I am certain of that.

As the tightness settles deep in me, I clench myself; Raymond is relentless with his tongue and fingers. I claw at his scalp, grabbing at his hair as if doing so will stop me flying away, my thighs tense and begin to shake, I am gasping as if there is no air in the room.

“Come for me my darling, break your chains, fly, show me passion, show me your soul.”

I scream oaths, words of love of love and Raymonds name, they bounce from the walls, as I fracture and fall, but not just once. He shatters me again and again before he puts me back together with soothing words. I cling to him as he gentles me with soft caresses, if he leaves go of me I know I shall float away. My shoulders heave as I gasp for breath, sweat trickles between my breasts and long strands of hair stick to my damp skin. Wrapping his arms more tightly around me Raymond holds me steady and whispers; “I am not finished with you yet.” I taste myself on his lips as he kisses me; I barely have strength to wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me and carries me to bed. For certain my own legs would not hold me, they tremble too much.

“We are in no way finished my sweetheart” he settles me among the pillows, Languor has settled in my bones and I watch him from beneath half closed lids, as he slips his arms beneath my thighs, lifting them over his own, and as he settles himself, I catch him licking his lips. Raymond is so tender, and with gentle movements he presses little by little, pause by pause until he is deep within me. I push my hips upwards wrapping my legs around his waist to draw him deeper still. A long rough sigh of pleasure swirls around and he stills for a moment searching my face. “What’s wrong old man have you tired so quickly?” His eyes fly wide open “You, my darling wife may come to regret those words.” I stop his mouth with my fingers, and wiggle my hips. “Oh, I do hope so, Raymond I do hope so.”

He hovers over me, his forearms either side of my head as a broad smile lights his face. The lines of sorrow and pain have disappeared, replaced by love in the deep, blue fire of his eyes. He is giving me time; my husband is in no way lacking and I remember overhearing a kitchen maid whispering to her friends, she had it on good authority that. “Sieur Raymond is hung better than his stallion.” and I bite my lip trying not to snort. Raymond frowns a little mistaking the sound for one of pain. “Isabé, Mon Coeur, for God’s sake, say if I am hurting you” I reach a hand up to his face, laying my palm against his cheek. “Raymond, my love I won’t break, though I might bend a little.” There, I’ve said it. “ My Love." I have said it, and meant it.

I hear a clatter and thud somewhere in the distance as our breakfast is set down in the passage and Raymond bellows towards the door. “Take it away, it will be long past breakfast before we are done.” I hear a girlish giggle as the housemaid picks up the tray and scuttles off, no doubt to give a lurid account that “Monseigneur and his Lady are “Putting the devil into hell.”

In the shadows of the Chateau stables two figures stand close together, for all the world they look like lovers embracing, but one mistake, one unwary move and the embrace will prove fatal for one of them.

“Be still Fontaine, the knife is exceedingly sharp, a sudden move and it will easily pierce your skin, and should you try to harm me, you would get no further than the courtyard; there are bows trained on you. Her words ghost against his cheek as low and soft as a lover’s. He holds his breath, shifts slightly and feels the point of the dagger press hard against him, it has pierced his clothes, now it pricks against the skin of his groin and he winces. “This is a warning to you Théo, when you travel South, I shall be there watching you every step of the way though you will be hard pressed to see me.

“Do you think I'm frightened by threats from de Merville’s Whore, I am not travelling South bitch.” The point of the double-edged dagger is pushed a little farther and he hisses in his breath.

“Oh’ but you are Fontaine, less chance for you to conspire against the King, with that bastard John Lackland and if you even look sidewise at Monseigner Raymond or Isabé beefore we leave I will slice you into ribbons and feed you to the pigs. Now be a good boy and run back to your Maman” Eleanor stands aside to let him pass and as he walks by she adds. “You might want to tell her, His Majesty knows her trade and recommends she retires, she'll understand. I suggest she takes his advice for if she persists, then one day they'll be fishing her body out of the Seine.” As he turns to look back at her, Eleanor has the pleasure of seeing his face grow pale.

“I’ll see you dead before I’m done, Fontaine you bastard!”

When I wake, Raymond is sprawled on his back still sleeping, the fingers of his left hand are tangled in my hair; I am curled against him, my left arm is draped over him and my left thigh pins his legs to the bed. Taut and firm beneath my cheek his stomach rises and falls with the steady rhythm of his breathing. If Raymond is asleep then a certain part of him most certainly is not. I giggle to myself as I shift a little and trail a finger down the thick vein along the back of his cock and press my lips together to hide a snort as it twitches upwards. Very gently I curl my hand around him, caressing the velvety softness to set up a gentle rhythm, pulling the skin a little further back each time I stroke my hand up and down him. “You witch Isabé.” His voice is a sleepy, guttural, whisper, and as I brush my lips against the tip of him, his hips snap upwards and he curls his fingers even more tightly in my hair.

Now, it is my turn; and my revenge will be so very sweet.

*I marry you wife* this is later medieval French from the region of Bordeaux, taken from a record held in the cathedral there. It is from a much later date, but I just wanted to create the sense of a service which would have been conducted in a mixture of Latin and Old French

**Do you take (bride's name), here present, for your legal wife according to the rite of our holy mother, the Church?**

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years

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Frosta Fanfiction Seasons 1-5

Season 1

A young girl, eight years old, stood at attention as the crowd watched. She had short dark blue hair and wore a dark blue dress with white fur covering her shoulders and her wrists. The front of her dress was decorated with seven short icicles carved into diamond shapes. Her round dark eyes met a dozen other eyes in front of her.

“Today,” announced Frigid, a blonde general of the guards, “is a day of both celebration, and mourning. His Majesty King Freeze led several of our strongest men into battle against the Horde on the edge of the Kingdom of Snows. Their leader, Hordak had attempted to invade our kingdom and steal our wealth and resources. King Freeze held Hordark off…but gravely, didn’t make it.”

The crowd muttered in low voices and several younger individuals gasped.

A tear threatened to fall from Frosta’s eyes, but she held it in. She couldn’t afford to be seen as a weak child during her coronation.

As an only child, Frosta had always known that she would become a ruler someday. Both her parents had taught her etiquette and rules early on. After observing weekly meetings with the king and the council, she could recite the anthem and the names of the other kingdoms with her eyes closed.

Despite all the formalities, Frosta still had time to closely bond with her parents in the late evening. She remembered the warm smile behind her father’s dark beard as he watched her practice her ice magic in her bedroom. When she had accidently froze a butler against the wall who had arrived to her room, her father showed her how to melt the ice surrounding him.

“Frosty, you must always be careful,” explained her father. Frosta rolled her eyes at her silly nickname, but smiled all the same.

Frosta remembered the subtle reassurances from Queen Iceis, her mother.

“Follow me,” she had said to her daughter. The two royals entered a hidden passage that led to a dark cave. They both stopped at a ledge.

A young Frosta pointed at something glowing from above. “What’s that?”

“The Fractal Flake,” the queen explained, the light briefly illuminating her long black hair. A large snowflake-shaped crystal hummed with power and stayed in place. She could feel the pulse from the gem similar to how she felt her heart beat.

“This gem has powered our kingdom for hundreds of years,” said the queen. “Its power has been used by kings and queens of the past to protect our land, as well as replenish their power. There will come a time, when it will be your turn to assume the throne. When you do, the crystal’s power will be transferred over to you, amplifying your power.”

Frosta’s eyes filled with both wonder and concern. “I know I’ll be able to do it…but what if I cannot?”

“You will,” said her mother. “There is a reason why we have taught you how to stand your ground so early. It is to best prepare you in case the inevitable comes.”

Frosta tried to pronounce “inevitable” and asked what she meant.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” said the queen. “Now, let’s be off to dinner. The food-tasters should tell us reports on the food when we arrive.” Frosta wrapped her arms around her mother in a hug. Shortly after, she returned the embrace.

Frosta didn’t know how fast time could fly by, until now. How could her mother’s clear ice blue eyes sparkle with happiness at her, only for them to roll back into her head, days later. Iceis’ pale white skin became sheer white as her body struggled to fight off a mysterious poison that had entered her veins. Medics and healers rushed into the queen’s chambers, doing all they could to heal her. All the meanwhile, Frosta looked on in fear from the distance, feeling ever so small and vulnerable.

“Definitely poison, alright,” stated a food taster, lifting his nose up to the silver wine chalice the queen had drunk out of. “The Horde must have slipped some in when they arrived with barrels of wine and fish for us.”

“We gave away our weapons to them for nothing,” spat a guard. “But surely, they would want us on their side. It must have been a mistake.”

But the queen’s pained gasps and coughs suggested otherwise. No longer able to stay in one place, Frosta rushed over to her sick mother. Her mother’s hand was ice cold, yet the young princess did not let go.

“My time is almost done, Frosta…” she stuttered. “Remember all the things I have taught you…”

“Mother, please…I’m not ready…”

“You are ready…you must be ready,” said her mother. “Make sure that all your subjects are well cared for. Enforce the rules when necessary. Be strong as a glacier, sharp as ice…but remember to be soft as snow at times.”

“I…I will make you proud, mother,” mumbled Frosta, her eyes turning red.

Iceis squeezed her hand tighter. “Oh, Frosty…you already have…”

Her head turned to the side and her hand went slack in Frosta’s.

“No! No! Mother!” cried Frosta. One of the guards tried to pull her to the side, but she screamed and sobbed loudly. It was the only time when she did not care when she acted like a child. It was even harder to get back into her responsibilities the next day. That was the day when the calls of war were heard.

It was the last time she would ever see her father’s face.

Frosta’s thoughts were interrupted when she felt something hard being put on her head. It was a small ice crown.

Who would have imagined Frosta being crowned on her birthday…and her feeling like the world was already weighing down on her.

Another man with brown hair stood by her side and spoke. “By the power vested in me, I hereby crown you, Frosta, Princess of Snows.”

The crowd clapped politely, while a few other people looked at her with pity and disbelief in their eyes. Frosta stared at them icily, daring them to challenge her.

‘Don’t underestimate me because of my age,’ she thought. ‘You have no idea what I can accomplish.’

“Happy Birthday, Your Majesty!” called several teenagers as Frosta climbed down the stairs and walked toward the snack bar. For the rest of the day, she was bombarded with gifts from other kingdoms and endless requests of joining the Rebellion.

“Bright Moon needs you, Your Majesty,” said a messenger of Queen Angella who had been sent to her kingdom. He wore armor and the white garb of Bright Moon. A small insignia, a crescent moon, was pinned to his chest over his heart. “The Horde have almost destroyed the Whispering Woods and the Meadowlands. They could be up to something else!”

Frosta ignored him and popped a frost covered fish egg into her mouth. “Not interested. Being involved with the rest of Etheria has only caused problems for our kingdom. It would be beneficial if the Rebellion and the Horde could solve their problems like real adults. I suggest you do the same.”

The messenger looked aghast. “But the princesses…”

“Nope.”

Frosta walked away, leaving a bewildered messenger behind.

A strong burly man walked over to her later on while she was chewing a ball of dark chocolate candy. “The Horde and I have the best technology in the land. With our people and your kingdom ruling together, all of Etheria could be ours!”

“Not today,” Frosta replied with a wave of her hand. “Have a nice evening.”

Desperate to get away from the crowds and noise, Frosta headed back toward the council room.

“Scribe Chiller,” she ordered. The black haired writer looked up from her seat. “Yes, Your Majesty?” she asked.

“I want you to create a new law for this kingdom. Call it the Neutrality Treaty. We will not be involved with the Horde nor the Princess Alliance anymore.”

“Yes, Princess,” she nodded, not daring to question Frosta’s orders.

For months afterward, Frosta felt safer and more secure in her icy palace. The rules and regulations that had formerly confused her, now served as a good way for her to escape her troubling thoughts.

Soon enough, the hidden pain of the loss of her parents and the ever increasing stress of her job made her perfectionistic.

The rules had to be followed by the book: no cracks were to be evident in the ice walls and floor. All the beds had to be carefully made and smooth. The food had to be meticulously decorated and prepared. And for Snows sake, nothing on the plate could be touching each other!

Some people may have been put off by Frosta’s perfectionism and her antisocial ways. The more traditional nobles and several jokesters called her derogatory things like “youngster,” “ADHD Autistic Anarchist” and “Lost Frost.” But she didn’t care much anymore. How could she? Sharp comments weren’t going to penetrate her stone cold stance. There was no point in pretending like everything was fine and dandy when she still felt that hollow loneliness each and every day like a gaping hole.

Frosta lived by the rules and her role, day by day, only letting her emotions flow freely in her bedroom when she cried herself to sleep. In the back of her mind, she hoped to have her father and mother appear by her side once more. She imagined them saying that there hadn’t been a war. That they had made peace with the Horde and that they would live safely in Snows for the rest of their lives. Certainly, she could enjoy herself and become queen at 16, the traditional age where she would be shown proper respect.

But just as quickly as they came, her hopeful thoughts faded away in a cold blast.

It wasn’t long before Frosta was almost twelve years old. Her kingdom had kept to itself for a long time. They had more than enough resources to keep busy and stable.

The day came when Princess Frosta put together a rule list for the Princess Prom event. The sooner she got this event over with, the better. Already, the scribe was working on dozens of other copies to send out across the land.

“All Princess Ball: Winter Wonderland.” Was written in elaborate script at the top of the scroll. The rules were listed below.

“Rules:

No weapons allowed in the palace. Castle guards are the only ones permitted to carry weapons.

No use of magic powers for harm or fist fighting. Any form of violence will not be permitted.

For the chefs: All food must be prepared properly (fish and meat frozen with the right amount of ice power).

All guests must wear formal attire: (dresses, suits, ties, etc.)

Any princess may bring a plus one individual with them to the event

Princess Frosta is eleven and ¾ years old. No one is allowed to mock her or make any comment on her age or experience.

The day of the prom arrived. A guard stood by a table, confiscating weapons from the guests. Adora was very reluctant to let go of her sword. Snow and icicles wrapped around the columns in the hallway. On and above the double doors were stain glass snowflake designs. The ballroom was shining with rows of icicles arranged in rows. People from all walks of life were dancing under colored strobe lights and pop music. A chandelier of long icicles hung from the high ceiling. A small band of beautiful women were playing string instruments on top of some stairs in a corner. An array of fruits and exotic food were positioned on ice covered shelves, made to be preserved throughout the night. There were small sandwiches, wrapped hotdogs, cookies, and cupcakes with wintery designs and colors. A large jelly-like sculpture was positioned at the edge of one table.

A line of guests walked up the steps to Frosta, who was sitting on her blue and white throne. The people bowed and greeted her, and they were then escorted back down the stairs by guards. Frosta didn’t particularly enjoy the moment; for her it was just another chore, albeit a necessary part of the ancient traditions. It was then that Adora and princess Glimmer arrived to the front. Adora bowed and Glimmer curtsied.

“That’s Frosta?” Adora whispered to Glimmer. “But she’s like…ten!”

A collective gasp came from the crowd as they heard Frosta’s age mentioned out loud by Adora.

“I’m eleven and three quarters,” said Frosta coldly. If she could, Frosta would have told her to shut the hell up.

“Revered hostess,” said Glimmer. “We come under the ancient rules of hospitality, bringing greetings from Bright Moon.”

“And She-Ra” added Adora.

“You are welcome under the rules of hospitality,” Frosta stated. “Leave conflict at the door. Enjoy the ball.”

Glimmer tried to remediate the situation and Adora started to say something about the Rebellion but Frosta had enough. The two princesses were moved along by Frosta’s guards down the steps.

Later on, during the party, Frosta went over by the snack bar, wanting to be left alone. She observed the light orange jelly and the fruit on the table. However, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, Adora walking over to her from her right.

Chatting with this disrespectful blonde stranger was the last thing on Frosta’s mind.

“Revered hostess,” said Adora with a bow. “I’ve come to apologize. I was so rude.”

“Yes, you were,” Frosta replied bluntly.

Then she turned back to Adora. “But you’re only an honorary princess. You can’t be expected to know better.”

Changing the subject, Adora looked around at the magnificent walls of ice and the vast architecture of the place.

“Your kingdom is beautiful. I’m honored to be here.”

“Thank you,” said Frosta, not looking at Adora.

Frosta sighed in annoyance, knowing why Adora had decided to speak with her. “And now I expect you’re gonna ask me to join your Rebellion?”

“You know about that?” asked Adora.

“Of course I do,” Frosta replied. “Princesses talk, you know.”

Just then, one of Frosta’s guards came over with a tray of food. He offered some to the princesses.

Frosta looked at the tray with disapproval. “The snow peas and the cookies are touching. Do it right.”

The guard left.

“Princess Frosta, the Rebellion needs you,” Adora pleaded. “Your kingdom is powerful. Your alliance could defeat the Horde.”

“The Horde hasn’t threatened us here,” stated Frosta. Despite several mishaps, the Horde had kept to themselves thanks to the Neutrality Treaty. Not even the Horde soldiers could get into the kingdom back when she lost her parents.

“Because the Kingdom of Snows is so out of the way,” Adora added. “Joining the Rebellion is your best bet.”

At this point, the ice princess was getting frustrated at the sight of a stranger telling her what her best choices were.

She had heard comments like that quite often in the castle, especially after the death of her parents.

“Are you sure you know what’s best for you?”

“You’re too little to run a kingdom! Do you even know what you are doing?”

“Maybe she’s too scared to associate herself with the outside world. Not doing what is best.”

The truth was, no one knew what was best for her…except herself. She certainly wasn’t going to let another person test her like that.

Frosta spoke. “The Kingdom of Snows has defended itself well for thousands of years. We do not need your help or your rebellion.”

She turned to Adora. “Please continue to enjoy the ball.” She left with her guards by her side.

Frosta was sitting back on her throne, doing her usual routine of meeting and greeting her guests. She was about to go into another state of boredom when she saw two guests that stood out from the crowd: Catra and Scorpia from the Horde. Catra was wearing a fancy maroon suit, while Scorpia was wearing an elegant black dress and red gem earrings.

“Revered hostess!” called Adora in concern.

‘Not this again,’ thought Frosta.

“They’re from the Horde!” Adora yelled, pointing at the two villains.

‘So what?’

“Hostess,” said Catra. “Princess Scorpia was invited per the rules of this ball. Rules which I personally have utmost respect for.”

“You do not!” shouted Adora to Catra.

“Princess Adora!” said Frosta sternly. “The rules state clearly that all princesses are welcome.”

“They’re up to something. I can feel it!”

“That’s enough!” Frosta reprimanded. “You look at me and see a child, but I have worked too hard to gain respect, only to throw away because you feel they’re up to something.”

It was quite clear that Adora had no evidence to back up her statement.

“The All-Princess Ball is neutral. I will not dishonor that legacy,” finished Frosta. “Scorpia is a princess. Princesses get plus ones. They. Stay.”

Adora grumbled in defeat and deviance.

After the guests left, pushing Adora and Glimmer below the stairs, Frosta grumbled, “Teenagers.”

The guests were all scattered around the ballroom now, eating food, and chatting with their friends. With no more people to greet and the time drawing near, Frosta stood up and announced, “It is my solemn duty as hostess to announce, it is time for the first dance of the ball.”

The crowd flooded toward the dance floor, laughing and pairing up in couples. Frosta watched and saw Adora and Catra dancing…and arguing at the same time. The dancing remained uninterrupted…until Adora suddenly pushed Catra into an ice structure, breaking it. The music stopped and the crowd gasped.

‘I knew Adora was trouble,’ thought Frosta.

Frosta stomped over and with a raise of her hands, entrapped Adora in a cage of ice.

Frosta glared at Adora. “The Princess Ball is a ceremony of unity. Violence is strictly forbidden.”

“You don’t understand…” started Adora.

“I understand perfectly,” spat Frosta. “In accordance with the rules set down over the centuries, I hereby revoke your invitation. You are to leave my kingdom and never, ever…”

A sudden loud explosion interrupted Frosta’s reprimand. Then a series of crystal bombs went off one after the other. Guests screamed and ran away in a panic. The food and plates crashed to the ground and crack appeared in the walls.

“Remain calm! Stop!” ordered Frosta to the crowd. Frosta knew what she had to do next. There was no time to stop the mysterious intruders. She had to keep her kingdom safe. She ran off, flanked by two of her guards.

Frista raced down the hall toward the secret passageway.

“Help get everyone out of here. If you see the intruders, freeze and restrain them.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said the guards.

Frosta opened the ice covered door, which blended in well with the rest of the ice wall from a distance. Heart pounding, Frosta ran in the dark, searching for the beacon of light. Finally she found it: the Fractal Flake. She stopped, took a deep breath and raised both of her hands.

In several seconds, the falling debris that had threatened to fall on the guests froze in mid fall. Slowly, the castle started to amend itself. The roof closed back together, a light fixture flew back up into place and the large star structure outside the palace was fitting itself back together. Frosta strained herself and grunted with effort. If she was going to risk collapsing or even death protecting her kingdom, then that’s what she would do.

Once the palace was fully repaired, Frosta gasped for breath and fell to her knees on the cold ground.

How did all of this happen? Here was an event that only happened once a decade, which was supposed to be harmonious and secure. Seeing the two sides in harmony would have strengthened Frosta’s confidence of her rule.

Now, everything had fallen apart.

Frosta had lost her parents. She had lost her sense of security and safety.

And now…though she was reluctant to admit it, she had lost her trust in the Horde.

She wiped away some tears that had fallen down her face.

‘I have failed you, mother, father,’ she stuttered through her sobs. ‘I almost failed my kingdom. What am I supposed to do now?’

She clenched her fists and stood up. “I…I must go back outside. Tend to those who may be wounded. Reassure the public.” She remembered some advice from her father: “Professional in public, playful in private.”

Maybe…perhaps maybe…this Adora person was right after all.

But would joining the Rebellion really be her best bet? Even if it meant going against her centuries long tradition of neutrality? Her Neutrality Law was, in fact, nothing new. Her parents made a similar law, as did her grandparents and the ones before them. It was expected of a ruler to be partial and logical…never to fight unless the enemy invaded first.

Which of course, they had.

With one last surge of energy, Frosta stood up and raised her hands once more. This time, huge towers of ice rose up from the outside and encased the palace like a triangular shield. Now her kingdom was more isolated and insulated than ever.

She now felt safe…but never had she felt more alone.

She made her way out of the chamber and was met with one of her messengers, a young man named Frigid. “Your Majesty, no one appears to be hurt after the bombs went off. There were reports of two men in blue coats taking away Princess Adora’s comrades.”

Another messenger came over, this time a woman with dark hair, Glace.

“We think that Bow and Glimmer have been taken away by spies. They disguised themselves as our guard!”

“And the Horde must have set off the bombs. That scorpion princess was suspiciously nowhere to be seen…”

“Alright, I understand,” said Frosta holding up her hands.

She cleared her throat. “Strengthen the defenses. Search the castle for any other intruders. See to it that all weapons are observed and stored away.

“Yes Princess,” said Glace. The two messengers wandered off to their duties.

Days and weeks passed. Frosta sat in with the council, going over document after document. She wore her usual blue coat, tan pants, and blue boots. She was about to sign a Treaty from the Horde when she felt a strange uncomfortable feeling in her stomach.

It wasn’t from hunger nor was it cramps. It was the everlasting feeling of fear and dread. Even her hands had begun to shake of their own accord.

“Excuse me for a moment,” she said. Frosta walked fast out of the room, leaving the council members in confusion.

When Frosta felt the Fractal Flakes power diminish, she knew that something was not right.

It felt like another, much darker power was trying to corrupt it. Although it felt far away, she knew that the force could grow increasingly closer. It was a feeling of dread that she couldn’t seem to let go of.

Her fears were further confirmed when she saw a pale blue light shine up into the dark sky. She knew what it was: a distress beacon from BrightMoon!

Perhaps it was the time for her to do something different.

Perhaps it was the time for her to take action and go outside her comfort zone.

Making her way into her office, she came across the Neutrality Treaty that she had meticulously put together…and threw it out of a nearby open window.

The wind blew away the documents and Frosta felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Her previous life of rules and solitude had blown away.

If the Rebellion truly needed her help, than that is what she would have to do.

“Princess?” asked one of two guards, who were standing outside her door. “Are you alright?”

“Go back to your positions. Don’t let anyone know I’m gone. If I don’t come back…”

“You’re leaving?” asked one of the guards.

“To help save the Rebellion. I sense that something bad is happening.”

“But the Neutrality Treaty…”

“Is henceforth disregarded!” she declared. Frosta never believed that those words would ever leave her lips.

Her guards stood in frozen shock. They wondered if Frosta had lost her mind.

Which, due to the events, she most likely had.

“If I don’t make it, tell the people that I left this world with honor,” she finished, managing to make her face emotionless.

“Princess, wait!” the guards called with concern.

But Frosta jumped out the window and shot long sheets of ice from her hands as she fell.

The ice rose from the ground and created an icy path that Frosta slid down and across. She moved gracefully as if she were wearing ice skates instead of her blue boots.

Red lightning flashed across the sky, lighting the world in a blood red glow. The sight made Frosta’s hair stand on end.

‘No time to back away now. I must do what is right for my kingdom.’

She slipped over the Whispering Woods…or what was left of them. The majority of the ground was frozen below. As she came up to the palace of BrightMoon, she saw quite a sight.

Horde tanks were firing green blasts at the castle. One of the blasts fired by Catra made impact with the large stand that held the Moonstone upright. It stared to crack in half and threatened to fall, bringing the Moonstone to its doom under the lake. With a quick flick of her wrist, the stand holding the gem was encased in ice.

She proceeded to blast more Horde soldiers away with her powers.

Adora and the other princesses looked happy to see her.

Frosta flipped through the air and landed in front of She-Ra. “I hope I’m not too late,” she stated.

“No, you’re right on time,” said Adora.

For the first time in a long time, Frosta smiled. Then feeling impatient with Glimmer teleporting again and the group reuniting, she said, “Let’s do this already,” holding her staff in front of her.

Feeling a new energy within her, Frosta fought alongside the other princesses, forcing the Horde to retreat. She shot blasts of ice from a long staff she carried in her left hand.

Soon, the Moonstone brightened up the world, healed Glimmer and made things right again. When Frosta joined the other group of princesses who gave She-Ra extra power in rainbow waves, Frosta had never felt such happiness before. She glowed in a blue aura, with Perfuma and Glimmer on either side of her.

With victory for the Rebellion, Glimmer shook Frosta hard with glee, which she did not expect nor appreciate. Later, Frosta found herself cheering with Perfuma after the rainbow of power had been unleashed. “We did it!” both of them cheered. “We defeated them together! Isn’t this wonderful?” She happily hugged Perfuma and she hugged her back.

‘So this is what friendship is like,’ Frosta thought. For the first time in a while, Frosta truly felt like a kid again.

‘Mother and Father would be proud of me. If only they could see me now!’

As Frosta said her goodbyes and skated back to her kingdom, she did not know what the future would hold for her. In the back of her mind, she knew that the Horde was still out there. They would stop at nothing to conquer the land of Etheria along with the whole world. Now, she realized that her kingdom would be included on their list.

Her visit back was met with celebration and some apprehension. There were still people who could not accept a mere child ruling their kingdom but they were few and far between. The castle was now fully cleaned, repaired, and routines were set back in order. It was the same as it usually was.

Only this time, Frosta made plans to interact and travel with the Princess Alliance and help out in any way possible. Even though at times, she still had high expectations of other people.

No matter what the future would bring, Frosta would meet it head on like an unyielding glacier. To herself, she had the audacity to thank the Horde for what they had done. For without their involvement, Frosta would not have grown stronger and more resilient. Their attack at the Princess Prom made her want to defeat them more than ever before. It was a peculiar surge of adrenaline that she formerly, was not allowed to feel.

Being with her friends was…freeing. Weird, no doubt, but also freeing.

Frosta smiled as she hugged Perfuma.

“Yeah! We did things together! Isn’t this wonderful?”

Deep down inside herself, Frosta knew she had made the right decision. She would not just honor tradition…she would expand upon it, alter it to better her kingdom for the good of her people. It was a daunting task for such a young girl who was so used to routine…but then again, she was one not to be underestimated.

One thing was certain…her memories of her new friends would stay frozen in her mind for a long time.

Season 2

Time had passed since the Rebellion had been victorious at the battle for Bright Moon. Frosta had grown more light-hearted and friendly with the other princesses. She was more than happy to accompany them on their journey. She liked to imagine herself in large ice armor smashing through the Horde's robots and creating ice weapons from her hands. After being secluded in her ice palace and having to learn her responsibilities for four years as a ruler, she felt a new thrill of freedom with the others. She felt like she had made friends at last. In contrast to her previous cold and distant attitude, she has been shown to be reckless and wants to prove her strength in order to impress the others. She had learned how to be professional back at the castle, but around the other princesses, a different side of her appears...one that is enthusiastic, though socially awkward. Due to her traumatic situation at a young age, and being the youngest princess, she did not have a normal childhood. However, Adora and the others show her that it's never too late to make friends and step out of one's comfort zone once in a while.

Frosta smiled as she pounded her ice covered fists against one of the Horde bots that had been swarming the frozen forest. Frosta knocked one robot aside and gasped as another one flew at her.

“Got it,” said Mermista, stopping the robot with a wave of water and tossing it to the side. Bow lodged an arrow in the robot, causing it to explode.

Perfuma arrived on the scene, vines trailing in her wake. “Sorry, Frosta,” she said, feeling bad that she had accidentally flung the robots high into the air before.

“Wow, flower princesses can’t aim,” said Mermista with a playful grin.

“I-I’m working on it!” Perfuma stuttered.

“Look out!” cried Frosta as another robot appeared.

“Got it!” called Glimmer. The pink and purple haired girl teleported herself and the bot up into the pink sky. She kicked the robot down to the ground, where it exploded in a stream of smoke.

“Thanks for dropping in,” said Glimmer with a grin.

Frosta appeared by Glimmer’s right side and let lot a loud laugh.

“Dropping in, because you dropped him from the sky. Good one.”

Frosta slapped Glimmer playfully on the back, resulting in a glare from her. She rubbed her arm in pain, since Frosta’s ice hands had hurt. Glimmer wondered off in search of another bot, Frosta eager to follow.

Glimmer noticed another wondering bot and summoned a thin purple staff from purple light in her left hand.

“How’d you do that?”

Glimmer noticed Frosta and shouted in surprise.

Frosta showered her with questions. “Can you teleport anything you want? Like a cannon? I can make ice cannonballs.”

“What? No. Just the staff. It was my dad’s…Ugh. Actually, I was sort of in the middle of something here. Do you mind?”

A purple beam emerged from Glimmer’s staff but with a shout, Frosta had impaled the bot with a large ice spike.

“It’s more effective if you hit their core processing unit,” Frosta explained.

“Ugh. I know,” said a frustrated Glimmer. “I was about to…”

“Hey. There’s another one. Let’s get it,” interrupted Frosta. Glimmer groaned as Frosta hurried off.

Eventually, all the bots had been defeated.

Adora, Bow, and Glimmer walked down the hall at Bright Moon castle, Glimmer’s home. The other princesses had also arrived to the Rebellion’s base and were waiting inside the council room with Queen Angelina.

“You should have seen it,” Glimmer exclaimed. “With the Moonstone super-charged, I’ve been so much more powerful. I took out, like, at least five bots,” she bragged.

Bow rolled his eyes from behind her. “Just like the day before, and the day before that.”

Glimmer turned around and looked at him. “So? What are we supposed to do? Not fight? We have to protect the woods. The Horde is going to keep taking ground until it regrows.”

“I know,” said Bow. “But how long can we keep this up?” He faced Adora.

“Did you learn anything from Light Hope?”

“Uh…” Adora smiled nervously and pointed at her sword in her other hand. “Getting way better at transforming my sword. Look.”

The sword morphed into a golden water pitcher.

“A pitcher,” said Bow with a nervous chuckle as Adora gave a small thumbs up. “That’s so useful.”

“We can picnic once the woods regrow,” said Glimmer.

“We should turn it into a dagger,” said Frosta eagerly from behind her. Glimmer screamed.

Frosta continued. “See me take out that bot with daggers?”

“Where did you come from?” asked Glimmer.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” she stated.

Glimmer narrowed her eyes at Frosta. “Well, we have to go. We have an important meeting.”

“The war council?” Frosta asked. “I’m heading there, too.” She winked and whispered, “Better, hurry, you’re gonna be late.” She hurried down the hall, went into the room and took her seat.

Glimmer’s eyebrow twitched as Bow said playfully, “Do we have a new addition to the Best Friend Squad?”

“Shut up,” she replied with a sigh.

The council meeting was about to go underway.

Perfuma went up to Mermista. “Sorry, heh, I think that’s my chair.”

“Yeah, don’t you find it helpful to shift perspectives, sometimes?” Mermista asked, clearly not giving up her seat.

Perfuma’s eye twitched and she hummed, sitting down on her knees with her hands together, trying to calm herself. Glimmer, Bow, and Adora entered through the doors.

“Aunt Casta! You made it,” said Glimmer.

The woman beside Angelina smiled, her hair in black braids. “I wouldn’t miss it, dearest. The first war room of the new alliance. How exciting.”

Angelina glanced at her sister. “Shame you couldn’t be there where the alliance was formed.”

“I knew you’d bring that up…”

“We have a great deal to discuss,” said Angelina cutting Castaspella off. “Please take your seats.”

Frosta took her spot next to Glimmer and smiled. Glimmer grunted in response.

Frosta listened as Swift Wind and Glimmer reported on territories taken by the Rebellion or the Horde. Bow came up with a plan to capture one of the Horde bots for the possibility of using it against them. After a while, the queen rose from her chair. “Glimmer, take your patrol out and capture a bot for Bow to study and carry out his plan,” ordered Angelina.

Frosta stood in front of Glimmer, making her flinch. “Commander, I have ideas to improve. First we should all have code names. I’d like to be Frostbite. And you can be Sparklebomb. Second…”

Glimmer cut her off. “Oh uh, Frosta. I need you to stay back and help Spinnerella and Netossa guard the castle. Great, thanks.”

She vanished before Frosta could get any words out.

With the council dismissed and the mission in place, Frosta decided that she was going to help Glimmer and the others. There was no way she’d stay back and miss all the good fighting. As quietly as she could, Frosta followed the other princesses out the door and toward the frozen forest.

“Okay,” said Glimmer, pacing back and forth as the others stood in a line. “We’ll split up to cover the most ground. “Adora, Bow and I will go east. Mermista and Perfuma, you go west. Swift Wind, cover the sky and tell s when there’s a bot nearby.”

“And remember, we want an intact bot,” Bow added.

“What if it’s just like, a little waterlogged?” asked Mermista.

Perfuma chimed in, “And also covered in ferns that secrete corrosive poison?”

Frosta jumped out from behind the white Pegasus. “Or what if it’s totally smashed by my ice hammer?” She formed an ice hammer from her hand.

“Frosta!” gasped Glimmer. She sighed and walked fast toward her.

“You’re supposed to be defending the castle with Netossa and Spinnerella.”

Frosta crossed her arms, already tired of being told what to do.

“I know I ignored orders, but, no offence, those orders were wrong. You need me here.”

Glimmer put her hand son her hips. “You can’t just go running off whenever.”

“But I did,” said Frosta. “And I’m here now. And I’m not going back.”

“Fine. You can be in Mermista and Perfuma’s patrol.”

“I’m going with you.”

Glimmer leaned in, angrily. “Don’t push your luck.” She stomped off, Frosta glaring behind her.

Frosta wondered off with Mermista and Perfuma and, using her soft padded boots, snuck out of sight. She soon noticed Adora, Bow, and Glimmer fighting off a larger robot that looked more advanced than the previous ones.

It wasn’t long before the group was surrounded by four of the new robots. Now was her chance.

Frosta jumped with her ice fists ready and landed on top of one of the robots.

She hit the top part of the robot that held the purple lit camera.

“Frosta!” yelled Glimmer. “Do you even listen when people tell you things?”

“What?” asked Frosta, still attacking the bot.

Glimmer waved her staff. “Get away from that bot!”

“It’s the bot you should be worried about!” Frosta replied. A metal claw picked up Frosta by her jacket and flung her over a cliff.

“Frosta!” Glimmer cried as the ice princess screamed and fell. Teleporting, Glimmer grabbed hold of Frosta in midair and teleported them to another area before they both hit the ground hard.

“There you are. We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” said Perfuma, arriving on a vine.

“Yeah. Everywhere,” Mermista deadpanned.

Frosta stood up and rubbed her nose, while Glimmer rubbed her head.

“That was incredibly stupid!” Glimmer scolded. “You could’ve gotten hurt, or gotten one of us hurt!”

“I was just trying to help,” said Frosta.

“This is serious, not a game,” said Glimmer. “You need to stop getting in our way.”

Frosta stared at Glimmer, stunned. Tears fell from her eyes as she ran off.

“Frosta, wait,” pleaded Glimmer, but she had already left. Frosta climbed up a rock overlooking the land and sat down. So apparently, her friends thought of her as nothing more than a burden. She had wanted to make friends and not feel as lonely as she had for countless years.

Frosta could hear Glimmer’s feet from behind her. Frosta turned her head. “Come to yell at me more? I just wanted to be your friend.”

“By ignoring us and throwing yourself into danger?” Glimmer asked.

“Sorry, I don’t know how to act.” The next words she said were painful for her to hear. “I’ve never had any friends before.” She turned away, head in her arms.

Glimmer teleported next to her and sat down. Frosta looked up at Glimmer, with a sad look on her face.

“I was eight when I took over the throne. Kind of hard to make friends when everyone is your sworn subject.”

“I know how you feel,” said Glimmer, empathetically. “I didn’t have any friends before Bow and Adora.”

“You?” Frosta asked, surprised. “Figured everyone would wanna be your friend.”

Glimmer chuckled half-heartedly. “Yeah, definitely not everyone.”

Then glimmer added, “And I’m still learning how to be a good friend, too.”

They both went silent for a moment, staring at the ground. Gathering her courage Glimmer turned back to Frosta. “I’m sorry I yelled. It’s just…I guess you remind me of…me.”

Frosta was not expecting to hear that. Being more of an introvert and not having the same carefree personality as Glimmer, comparing herself to the Brightmoon princess would be the last thing she would consider.

Glimmer continued, “And I can do really dangerous stuff sometimes.”

“I remind you of you?” asked Frosta, her eyes big and shining.

Glimmer nodded. Then disgust crept into her voice. “Ugh. And I even sounded like my mom when I yelled at you. Please don’t make me to that again.”

“Deal,” said Frosta with a small smile. Frosta held out her hand. Glimmer was about to shake it, but Frosta briefly held it back. “Does that mean we’re friends?”

“Yes,” Glimmer answered. “And we…I could really use your help.”

Relief filled Frosta and she stood up. “You want me to come back? I knew we’d make a great team. So should I do ice hammers or daggers? Your right, one of each.” An ice hammer formed in her left hand and an ice spike from her right.

Glimmer laughed nervously and rolled her eyes, deciding to go along with it. The two of them climbed down and hurried after the others.

Frosta noticed the robots crawling toward the crystal tower and shot some ice underneath their metal legs, causing them to skid.

“Ice of you to drop in,” she said with a laugh.

Glimmer teleported her to safety to avoid an incoming laser. Both girls barreled into the bot and Frsota banged a large dent in it with her ice fist. “Showed you, bot face.”

Catra charged at the last remaining robot, landing a punch, which sent it back. Glimmer blasted it back with her magic.

“You ready, ice princess?” asked Mermista.

“Yeah,” Frosta replied.

Mermista shot water at the bot, pushing it back against a cliff.

Yes!” Frosta said as she froze the water.

Perfuma held the bot in place with vines.

Bow held a piece of tech in victory and the princesses cheered.

The princesses watched in amazement as auras outlined their bodies and the forest magically grew back to normal. Frosta’s aura was dark blue.

“Whoa. Did we do that?” asked Frosta, looking around.

The answer was a clear yes.

Frosta laughed and hugged Glimmer.

Later, the girls were back at Bright Moon castle. Frosta relaxed as Glimmer brushed her short blue hair.

“So, we’re okay now the woods are growing back, right?” Frosta asked.

“Light Hope says there’s still a lot to fix, but at least it won’t be as easy for the Horde to attack us.”

Frosta looked at Glimmer. “Thanks again for saving me, you know, after that bot threw me off the cliff.”

“Friends stick together. No princess left behind,” replied Glimmer. Adora held Frsota’s hand and the three of them laughed.

During another day, Frosta and Mermista met with the others during a battle plan.

“Mermista said you were playing. We wanna join,” said Frosta.

“Ugh. We’re in the middle of a very serious planning session,” sighed Adora.

“We have lots of ideas for plans,” Perfuma added.

“Aren’t you on watch right now?” Glimmer asked.

Adroa groaned. “But only if you’re serious…”

“I’m sitting next to Glimmer!” Frosta said joyfully as she sat down.

“I have ideas,” Frosta said. “Staring with we punch them!”

One by one, all the members fantasized battle plans, each with their unique twists. In Bow’s fantasy, Catra turned into a purple mountain lion.

“Wait, she can do that?” Frosta asked.

“No,” said Bow. “But I ran out of figures and only have this left, so she can now.”

Perfuma then began talking about using a plant golem to take down the tower.

Then Mermista fantasized about having She-Ra’s powers, holding a trident and calling herself “Sea-Ra.”

Frosta interrupted Perfuma. “The Winter’s Bane needs no help from a plant.”

Frosta imagined herself in full body ice armor similar to a transformer. The enemies were frozen in her ice. Frosta spoke in a dramatic voice.

“My enemies know me as Frostbite Winter’s Bane. My friends call me Bane. That is, if I had any. But no one comes close to the Winter’s Bane! She’s got a board sword that enhances strength plus three. Her finishing move is the Snow Strike.”

She pointed to a sketch of her character.

“What’s that pink blob?” asked Mermista.

“Her sidekick, Glimmer.”

The group continued talking, with Frosta adding her own ideas. “Frostbite uses Snowstrike to encase the tower in ice, then crack it, kapow!”

“Frostbite smashes the wall!” Frosta exclaims.

“The ice armor cracks as you hit stone,” Adora says.

The group then began talking about Catra.

Frosta disagreed with Perfuma and said, “No, no, no, she’s more like ‘I love ruining parties.’” She imagined a drunk Catra holding a glass of wine, with sunglasses.

Adora soon began worrying that the Horde would defeat them and was about to give up. Her friends gave her words of encouragement.

“The Winter’s Bane stands with you. Also, me, Frosta stands with you. I can’t tell if we’re still in character.”

The princesses soon launched their improvised attack on the tower, Perfuma staring with her plant golem. Frosta encased the cannons in ice.

“Yay, Frosta!” cheered Perfuma.

Frosta’s arms, hands, and chest were covered in ice armor. “This is colder than I thought, but not a problem.”

She charged through the line of Horde robots, knocking them over the wall with her ice fists. “Snow Strike!” She knocked two robots down and then a third.

“Huh?”

One of her hands was free from the ice, but water splashed on it, making ice appear again.

“Thanks, Mermista!” Frosta called.

“You mean Sea-Ra, Princess of the Oceans!” She conjured up a wave that splashed throughout the tower.

Adora, Mermista, Perfuma and Frosta yelled their battle cries.

“Charge!”

“I am Sea-Ra!”

“Plant magic!”

“The Winter’s Bane!”

The princesses were soon glowing and knocked off Scorpia and the other Horde soldiers. The Rebellion swiped down the red Horde flag and cheered.

Season 3

Perfuma, Mermista, and Queen Angella analyzed the holographic map on the round table in front of them. Over toward the back of the chamber, Frosta stood by a map, sticking another smaller map into place with an icicle. Netossa and Spinerella watched intently. They were all trying to come up with another way to defeat the Horde.

Mermista gasped and fell backwards out of her chair, when an exhausted Glimmer and Bow appeared with Huntara.

“You’re already here. Perfect,” said Glimmer nervously.

Mermista picked herself up. “Yeah, where have you been?”

She glanced over at the lavender skinned warrior. “Is this some new She-Ra form?”

“No. This is Huntara,” Glimmer explained. “She’s the leader of the Crimson Waste. Or was.”

Huntara observed the map with fascination and swiped at the image with her hand, a child-like expression on her face. Swift Wind arrived and pushed her out of the way.

Glimmer continued. “Uh, we don’t have time to get into it. We need to get to the Fright Zone.”

“The world doesn’t stop just because you aren’t here,” Angella warned. “We have been planning our attack on the Horde.”

“That’s a relief,” added Bow. “Because Catra kidnapped Adora.”

Everyone gasped, including Frosta, Netossa, and Spinerella, who turned around.

“The Horde has Adora?” Angella asked.

“Which also means they can open a portal because they have her sword,” Glimmer explained.

“What? I don’t understand…”

“There’s no time.”

“Glimmer, slow down…”

“We need to get to the Fright Zone now,” Glimmer spoke in urgency.

“We?” asked Angella. “You are not going anywhere until you explain.” She stood up and unfurled her white transparent wings. “Glimmer, outside. Now.”

Frosta continued observing her maps, as Glimmer and Angella walked outside, the doors closing behind them.

When their conversation was over, Frosta and the others rushed from their hiding spot behind the doors. Several of the princesses whistled innocently, like they had not been eavesdropping.

Later on that night, Perfuma, Frosta and Mermista used their powers to hoist themselves onto the raised platform. Perfuma got up using vines, Mermista via a rising wave of water, and Frosta, via ice.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mermista asked.

Glimmer summoned her staff into her hand. “Don’t try to stop us. This is the only way to save Adora.”

“We’re not trying to stop you. We wanna come with you,” Perfuma said.

Mermista smirked. “We could do the whole “you can’t come with us, it’s too risky” thing…”

Frosta stepped up. “Or you could just accept that we are coming. Because we are.”

Shadow Weaver spoke from behind. “A larger group will be a disadvantage. I won’t…”

Mermista interrupted her, pointing at her. “We’re calling the shots. You’re gonna have to make that thing bigger, weird, scary lady.”

Reluctantly, Shadow Weaver complied.

“Quickly now,” she urged.

She spread out tendrils of dark purple magic from her hands and down below, the complex circle of symbols and shapes lit up. Shadow Weaver made another symbol in the air, identical to the symbol on the ground. She extended her hand through the small hole, beckoning Glimmer to take it.

After a brief hesitation and a deep breath, Glimmer’s hand grasped hers.

The moment their hands touched, dark purple power swirled around the area, the energies of the Black Garnet and the Moonstone converging. It wasn’t long before all the group members were transported into the heart of the Fright Zone.

“We did it. I did it. Oh that was amazing,” Glimmer exclaimed, jumping for joy.

“Hmm,” said Bow in thought. “Kind of figured Hordak’s sanctum would be way scarier and not so empty.”

“Yeah no,” Mermista added. “Decorating is not their strongest suit.”

“We aimed for Hordak’s sanctum, but obviously, we missed,” said Shadow Weaver. “We’re not far. Stay behind me. And try to be quiet.”

The door opened to reveal a blue skinner reptile humanoid, holding a blue cup in his hands. All the princesses and Bow turned around. The Horde cadet dropped his cup in shock, spilling the rocky and sloppy contents on the ground.

“We have to go,” called Shadow Weaver, pushing a button and opening a metal door.

“I’ll hold her off,” said Perfuma, before Mermista, Bow, Glimmer, and Frosta hurried after the sorceress.

As the group ran, the door ahead opened up, revealing Lonnie and Rogelio. Glimmer stood, conjuring balls of glittery light in her hands. Frsota already had formed ice fists around her hands.

Lonnie pulled a lever, sounding the alarm before pulling out a stun weapon. Rogelio roared and charged.

Mermista walked forward, pulling water from beneath a sewer grate to the right. “My turn. I didn’t almost drown in these sewers for nothing.”

Frosta strode forward. “I want in.”

She waved her hand and Mermista’s water turned into shards of ice. Mermista fired them at Rogelio and Lonnie, catching their hands and legs in ice.

“We’ll keep them busy. Go,” Mermista called. Mermista and Frosta stayed behind to fight off incoming soldiers while Glimmer, Bow, and shadow Weaver disappeared down another corridor.

She-Ra walked through the portal. In one strike of her sword, she broke it and the machine collapsed.

“Adora!” shouted Glimmer and Bow, both running over and embracing her in a hug. All of their eyes shone with tears.

“See? We told you, you could do it,” mentioned Glimmer.

“Who hoo!” Frosta cheered. “Yes, we did it. We did it.”

Frosta ran over and hugged Adora as Perfuma and Mermista also joined in.

“Touching as this is, we need to go,” Shadow Weaver cut in. “Now.”

She held out her hand. Glimmer stepped forward and took it. The others let go of Adora and took their positions. The black power swirled around them, transporting them back to the raised platform where the Moonstone resided.

Everyone laughed and shouted with joy; Perfuma even hugging a stiff unamused Shadow Weaver.

“We did it,” said Bow, lifting Glimmer up and carrying her around.

“Did we do it?”

“We did it,” Glimmer assured. “I’m probably going to be grounded for the rest of my life, but reality is back to normal.” Bow gently put Glimmer down.

“Speaking of which, I guess I should go find my mom. Maybe she’ll be so happy to see me that she’ll forget about grounding me.”

Adora slowly walked over to Glimmer, head lowered, and silent.

“Adora, what is it?” Glimmer asked in confusion.

Adora transformed out of her She-Ra form and embraced her in a somber hug. Glimmer knew then what she was telling her.

Adora started to cry. “Angella, she…she stayed behind. She…she saved us.”

Tears pooled in Glimmer’s eyes. Frosta and the others gathered around, comforting Glimmer and Adora.

Season 4

Glimmer, Adora, and Bow followed Castaspella down the hall. Castaspella explained the process of Glimmer’s coronation.

“So the ceremony begins with the Ritual Quest, followed by your first speech as queen. And most importantly, the whole thing ends with a Grand Ball!”

Adora gasped. “Oh, there’s a quest! We’re great at quests.”

Castaspella continued, “The Quest of Queens, in which Glimmer will forge her connection to the Moonstone. The Moonstone’s power has been balanced between you and your mother since you’ve been born, but now, with her…her absent…”

“So, about that quest!” Bow cut in. “We’re great at quests, right?”

Castaspella cast a spell, a blue circle design in the air, which a scroll appeared. She tossed it over to Bow.

“Yes, it’s in the scrolls. Secret ritual, witnesses, light, etcetera, etcetera. Oh, and you’ll need this.”

She threw an elegant lantern into Bow’s arms, the interior glowing with a white flower against light blue.

A shirtless man with wild white hair arrived with a large bouquet of red and pink roses, nettled in green.

“Are those the flower arrangements?” Castaspella asked in amazement. “Glimmer, what do you think?”

Glimmer mumbled awkwardly raising an eyebrow. “Oh uh, they’re, uh, fine?”

“You’re right, they’re awful!” said Castaspella. She turned to the man. “Burn them at once. Also, you’re fired.”

The man sobbed into the bouquet and ran off.

“Aunt Casta, you…” Glimmer began.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” said Castaspella, touching Glimmer’s nose. “In addition to being a powerful sorceress, I am also a legendary party-planner. This will be a coronation for the ages! Glimmer, take us to the terrace!”

Glimmer merely sighed and walked on.

“Oh, we’re…we’re walking, are we? Great. We can use the exercise.”

Glimmer, Bow, and Adora stood outside in the castle grounds, Frosta across from them. Frosta had made something for Glimmer’s coronation as the new queen of Bright Moon.

“What do you think?” Frosta asked Glimmer. She presented a grotesque ice sculpture of Glimmer and Frosta with strong muscles, looking angry.

“I wanted to do something special for you,” she explained.

Glimmer lowered her head. “This is going to be awful.”

But oblivious Frosta wasn’t paying attention. “Awful inspiring, right? I can make more!”

Glimmer held up her hands and gently placed hers on Frosta’s. “I appreciate the idea. But I need someone for a very important job to, uh, greet the guests.”

Frosta jumped into the air in excitement. “Oh! You need a bouncer?”

Frosta smashed her newly created ice fists together.

“I’m on it! Bouncer!”

She happily ran off.

“Wait, I didn’t say bouncer,” Glimmer began, but the ice princess had left.

“Glimmer!” called her aunt. “I need your opinion on color schemes.”

“Uh…blue?”

There was an awkward silence.

“What about purple?”

“Excellent choice,” said her aunt. “Isn’t this fun? Soon you will have to make many decisions just like your mother…”

Adora and Bow rapidly shook their heads.

“That is, uh…chop, chop, everyone! Adora, move the ice sculpture to the side!”

Adora walked off, grunting with moving the heavy blocks of ice.

“We still need flower arrangements!” called Castaspella. “Where’s that florist?”

“You fired him,” said Glimmer.

“Oh, right. Perhaps you’d like to do the flowers, Glimmer?”

Glimmer looked toward Mermista, who let out a long drawn out yawn.

“You know, I bet Mermista would love to do the flowers! Right Mermista?”

Mermista spoke with sarcasm. “Wow, how did you know? Flower arranging is my passion.”

“Ah, wonderful!” said Castaspella. “Now let’s talk stem length.”

Perfuma cried out loud, “What? No! Why?” Her giant dark pink flowers wilted as she sank to her knees, upset of her position being taken.

Swift Wind turned to Glimmer. “Is now a good time to talk about my song for the coronation? I will require a stage and oats for the backup horses.”

Frosta created a thick wall of ice between them and the horse flew off.

“Stop bothering Glimmer! Bouncer!”

“Hey!” said Adora, sliding over. “I think it’s all really coming together, don’t you?”

Adora led her over to Bow.

“Yep, it’s gonna be perfect! What else do we need to do, Bow?”

Bow held a long scroll on his hands.

“Still don’t know what the lantern is for! This is so official and confusing. It says Glimmer needs to wear some ceremonial robe. I don’t know where to get all that!”

“Maybe if we all looked together…” Glimmer suggested before Adora cut in.

“Don’t worry! We’ll find it!”

“But…”

Castaspella interrupted. “Glimmer, you’re needed in the Dining Room to choose the napkin folding technique! I’m thinking swans. What do you think?”

“Uh…”

“You’re right, it’s a terrible idea. I should just fire myself.”

“Aunt Casta, no…”

A gush of water then soaked both of them.

Glimmer pulled a starfish off of her and Castaspella threw away a vine of seaweed.

“Mermista! Vases!” Castaspella yelled.

Mermista stood in a large puddle of water and seaweed. “Don’t stifle my creativity!”

“Ugh. Please.”

“It’s okay. We will handle everything,” said Adora, transforming her sword into a mop. “You go have fun!”

Bow scooted away.

Glimmer sighed. “Fun. Right.”

After Adora arrived from inside the castle later on, Frosta walked over to her.

“Adora, I’ve been freezing anyone trying to sneak in, but I’m running out of space to put them.”

She mentioned to Sea Hawk frozen in mid-run.

“Unfreeze him right now!” Adora demanded.

Frosta nodded and ran off.

Perfuma snuck over to where Mermista was busy putting things together.

“Mermista, um. Flowers are sort of my thing.”

Mermista had put coral, starfish, shells, and seaweed onto a large rock.

“Uh, it’s art and it’s what Glimmer wants. New queen, new era.”

Frosta then noticed Perfuma and Mermista fighting over Mermista’s sculpture and pushed the two girls apart by their faces.

“Stop fighting! You’re ruining Glimmer’s big day! Bouncer!”

Bow walked over. “Okay, has anyone seen a sacred lantern?”

“Yeah, there,” said Mermista, pointing to Swift Wind, Adora’s self-centered and valiant steed. The horse had the lantern hanging from his horn.

Bow sighed and walked over.

“Oh!” said Adora. “We’ve been looking all over for it! Thanks, Swifty.”

Swift Wind held it out of arms reach, attached to his horn.

“And I’ll present it to Queen Glimmer. Then she’ll be all, “Swift Wind, why don’t you sing the coronation song you made up?”

Swift Wind then sang obnoxiously. “Queen Glimmer, it’s your day. We’re all excited for you.” Bow and Adora wrestled with the winged stallion. Frosta went to check on Sea Hawk, and he was still frozen.

Mermista and Perfuma stood close to Glimmer.

“Glimmer, can you please tell Perfuma to stop questioning your wise judgement?”

“What? I’m not…”

Frosta interrupted Glimmer, grabbing hold of her face.

“Where do you keep the blankets? Sea Hawk is whining about being frozen.”

“Why did…”

Glimmer,” said her aunt, cutting in. “The quest is due to begin. Where’s the latern?”

“I have it!” called Swift Wind. “And now, my song!”

Perfuma argued with Mermista. “Everyone knows Glimmer would be happier with me on flowers!”

“Glimmer disagrees,” Mermista deadpanned.

“Glimmer, your guests are waiting,” Castaspella reminded her.

As Perfuma and Mermista argued, Frosta yelled, “Everyone, stop bothering Glimmer! She has a ton on her plate.”

Swift Wind belted out more off-key words, “Till the end, until I die, of course.”

The commotions, the noise, the pressure, the loss of her beloved mother…

It was all too much for Glimmer.

“Everyone, just stop!”

Glimmer’s yell was so loud, that the ice Glimmer head broke off and rolled to her feet. Everyone gasped.

Castaspella put a comforting hand on her niece’s shoulder. “Glimmer, we will fix all of this.”

Glimmer walked over to Bow and held out her hands. Bow handed her the lantern.

“Let’s just get this over with,” said Glimmer, before walking away.

Glimmer made her way over to her room and sat sadly on a round lavender cushion. She stared at her hands, and watched a few sparkles appear around her hands. Glimmer remembered how she recently looked at the shimmering MoonStone high above on the golden stand. Her body has glowed and sparkled pink, like the stone was calling to her.

But to take all the power for herself, and her mother not being here…

Glimmer had been fine with the shared power she possessed for all her life. The sudden changes were hard, shocking…heartbreaking. For Glimmer, receiving her mother’s power felt overwhelming. Could she be prepared to be Queen of Bright

Moon, even with Angella not around to guide her?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Bow, Adora, and Castaspella entered the room.

“Well, it took some searching, but we finally found the Royal Coronation Robe!” said Bow.

Adora held a white sheet in her hands. She walked over and draped it over Glimmer. Glimmer glared at the heavy thing on her.

“Wow, Glimmer…” she began. “You look…um…”

Adora held a thumbs up, staring at the way too big robe.

Glimmer gave a nervous smile, then looked downcast.

Concerned Castaspella made her way to her niece.

“Oh, my little Glimmer. I’m so proud of you.”

She tenderly touched her cheek.

“I know you’re going to make such a wonderful queen.”

In an attempt to cheer her up, Castaspella continued, “Almost time for your quest! Give me a tick and this robe will fit like a dream!”

“Of course,” sighed Glimmer, sitting down on the cushion. “The quest we still don’t know anything about. But it’ll be fine. Castaspella will fix the robe, Bow has the lantern, and I’ll have you guys by my side the whole way.”

Later on, a nervous, sad, but determined Glimmer walked between the woodland man creatures, across the white bridge and over to Bow, Adora, and her aunt. A banner with a golden symbol of the MoonStone stood proudly over to the left. Her ceremonial robe now fit her perfectly. It was white with a golden symbol of a crescent moon pointed upwards on the back. The waterfall curtain behind them fell with barely any noise; the water reflecting sunset colors of light orange, pink, and blue from the top to the bottom.

Glimmer held the lantern in both shaking hands. She walked over with determination and then turned to face the crowd.

Castaspella opened up her scroll and read aloud.

“We are gathered here today to witness the crowning of Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon as she completes the Quest of Queens and begins her reign as our new leader. She will be accompanied by two witnesses, Master Archer Bow, and Adora, She-Ra, princess of Power.”

Mermista closed her eyes and opened the curtain of water with her powers. Perfuma, Sea Hawk, and Frosta stood with her to watch in their fancy Princess Prom gowns.

Castaspella continued. “Let the light guide you and go forth in peace and safety to emerge as Queen of Bright Moon.”

Glimmer, Bow, and Adora stepped in, and the watery curtain closed behind them.

Later on, the sky had turned dark. When Glimmer emerged from the Chamber of Queens, triumphant in her quest, the hall was all set up for the party. Frosta had made two new ice statues of Glimmer and Queen Angella holding hands. Perfuma had created vines of green with flowers in them that hung from the top of blue and purple banners on either side. Glimmer cried tears of joy.

“This place looks amazing!” Glimmer exclaimed, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Perfuma, Mermista, and Frosta arrived in the same gowns they wore to the previous Princess Prom.

“We wanted it to be perfect for you,” said Frosta.

“So we worked together to finish,” added Perfuma.

“That was my idea,” said Mermista.

“Glimmer,” said Castaspella. “It’s time.”

She mentioned to the golden throne high up. Smiling, Glimmer walked up the floating golden round steps and up to the throne.

She took a deep breath, having planned what her speech would be.

“I am here today because Queen Angella, my mother, sacrificed herself to save Etheria. We can’t let her bravery be in vain. But there’s so much we still need to do. Hordak is still in power, and we know there’s an even larger Horde army out there somewhere. We can’t let them win. It’s time for us to take back our home. Together, we will push out the Horde, once and for all!”

The crowd cheered and stood up in an ovation, fists and hands in the air. Frosta and Perfuma hugged each other as they cheered. “Yeah!” cheered Bow and he and She-Ra hugged.

Glimmer smiled at the ice statue of Angella, the ice face smiling and eyes closed…at peace. Seeing her sweet angelic face, Glimmer knew her mother would be proud.

“Mer-Mysteries”

Known books:

“Mer-Mystery: The Pearl Who Knew Too Much”

“Mer-Mystery: Secret of the Abalone”

“Mer-Mystery: Serpent of the Sea”

“Mer-Mystery: The Maltese Otter”

“Mer-Mystery: Salt-er Ego”

Potential titles:

“Mer-Mystery: Rip Current Events”

“Mer-Mystery: Seaweed Scandal”

“Mer-Mystery: The Missing Mermaid”

“Mer-Mystery: Lost at Sea”

“Mer-Mystery: Cat-Fished”

“Mer-Mystery: The Case of the Great White”

“Mer-Mystery: Hidden in the Coral Reef”

“Mer-Mystery: Devious as a Clam”

“Mer-Mystery: Brainwash in the Deep Blue”

“Mer-Mystery: Murder at Salineas Shore”

“Mer-Mystery: The Stolen Trident”

Mer-Mystery: Atlantis Apocalypse”

“Mer-Mystery: Sea Shell Standoff”

One stormy night, the princesses sat together in one of the chambers of Bright Moon castle. Frosta had a bored look on her face, arms crossed, next to Perfuma who stared off into space. Other sin the room included Mermista, Sea Hawk, Perfuma, Flutterina, Adora, Bow, and Glimmer. Glimmer stood facing the fire in the fireplace. Mermista sat on the couch next to Sea Hawk who was lying down, tired.

Glimmer turned around. “I called you all here to discuss what happened today. The mission to retake Dryl was a complete disaster. We barely made it out. I wanna know why.”

Bow spoke up. “The Horde knew we were coming. They were ready. How do they keep doing this? We thought they were tracking Adora, but she wasn’t even there today.”

Mermista then slammed her hands down on the table. “Isn’t it obvious? There’s a Horde spy somewhere in Bright Moon.”

Outside, the sky lit up white as thunder rumbled.

“And no one is going anywhere until we figure out who it is.”

Thunder crashed again.

Mermista,” said Glimmer, “It’s very unlikely that there’s a spy…”

“We need to investigate,” Mermista cut in, pacing back and forth. “I’ll be the lead detective since I’ve read every single Mer-Mystery book.”

“Mer-what?” asked Adora.

Mermista moved over behind the couch dramatically. “Mer-Mystery. It’s only the best undersea mystery novel series ever. There’s 18 of them. It taught me everything about solving mysteries.”

She leaned in, and said louder, “Murder mysteries.” Sea Hawk fell down on the couch in shock.

Perfuma raised her hand. “Um, but no one’s been murdered.”

“Yet!” added Mermista, moving between Frosta and Perfuma, making Perfuma flinch. “First, we need to question the suspects.”

“Who are the suspects?” asked Frosta.

“Everyone is a suspect,” stated Mermista.

“Everyone?” asked Bow. “Is anyone else sweating? I’m sweating.”

Glimmer sighed. “This is a waste of time. We know that the Horde is pulling their troops back for something big. That’s what we should be investigating.”

“No, Mermista’s right,” said Adora. “And it can’t be me the Horde’s tracking, since, once again, you used me as a distraction today. A spy is really the only thing that makes sense.”

Glimmer crossed her arms. “Maybe they didn’t fall for the distraction because you’re a bad actress. And who would the spy even be, anyway?”

“Heh,” said Adora. “How about the Horde officer who’s living at…I’m sorry, being held prisoner at Bright Moon? Shadow Weaver has actual spies. We met them.”

“Shadow Weaver does seem like the obvious suspect,” said Mermista. “Which means it definitely isn’t her. It’s never the obvious one. Like in Mer-Mystery: The Pearl Who Knew Too Much. You think it’s the pearl, but it’s not.”

“Spoilers!” cried Perfuma, flinching again.

Mermista pointed off in the distance. “It’s time to interrogate the castle.”

Lightning and thunder crashed once again.

“How are you doing that?” Frosta asked.

“I practice at home!” Mermista answered dramatically as thunder boomed again. Glimmer facepalmed and groaned.

As lightning flashed across the sky, Flutterina hummed a happy tune as they went inside a tent on the Rebellion campsite. Checking that the coast was clear, they transformed into Double Trouble. The chameleon flopped onto a cushion and took out a tracker pad, pressing a button. Catra’s angry face appeared on screen. “Move. Now. We don’t have all night, Kyle.”

“Meow. You all right there, kitten?” they asked.

Catra stared straight ahead. “About time you checked in. Are the princesses still moping around about Dryl?”

“No,” they said with a scoff. “Watching them mope was my favorite. Now they’re playing detective, searching for the elusive Horde spy who foiled their plans.”

“Wait. Spy? Is your cover blown?”

“Please,” they said. “Who would suspect a goody-two-shoes like Flutterina? Besides, if they get suspicious, I’ll do a quick wardrobe change and throw the blame onto someone else.”

They transformed into a guard.

“They better not,” Catra demanded. “Keep them in Bright Moon. If they catch on before the plan is complete, before our bug mission is done, I…”

They transformed back. “Darling, darling, don’t worry. I’ll just tire them out a bit.”

A dark brown skinned guard sat on the couch in front of Mermista and Perfuma. Mermista slapped her hands on the table. “Where were you when the murders happened?”

“The what?” asked the guard.

Mermista slapped her hands again, Perfuma winced and shook her hand.

“Don’t think you can get away with it,” added Perfuma. She turned to Mermista. “Although, there still aren’t any murders, Mermista.”

“Yet.” Mermista planted her foot on the table.

“I sincerely do not have time for this,” stated the guard.

“According to a bunch of other people…”

“Witnesses!” yelled Perfuma. “…you weren’t where you were supposed to be at the battle for Dryl.”

“I followed the plan exactly,” said the guard.

Perfuma planted her foot on the table causing the flower shaped head lamp to shake. “A likely…sorry, a likely story!”

“Admit it,” said Mermista. “You were slipping away to warn the Horde of our plan. Just like in Mer-Mystery: Secret of the Abalone. That one’s really good. You should read it.”

Perfuma took notes on her scroll of paper in fancy cursive: “Maintain scowl,” “Hit the table,” “Secret of the Abalone.”

The guard moved the spotlight away. “Look, this is what happened. “On approach to Dryl, Glimmer filled me in. She-Ra would lure away the Horde. Team A, Frosta, Bow, and Flutterina, would scout ahead. Team B, Sea Hawk and Mermista, would guard the exits. Team A indicated the coast was clear, and we converged on their signal. That’s when Frosta ran into us and said, “We haven’t finished scouting.”

Team A sent the all clear. If you wanna know what went wrong, ask Bow.”

“Okay, I confess, it was me” he cried.

Frosta stared back at him in her chair. “We’re not even interrogating you.”

“I mean, if I am the spy, it’s an accident. I think. Can you be an accidental spy? Do I have an evil alter-ego? Or was I brainwashed and I’m just realizing it now?”

A shirtless man with a flower necklace sat next to Bow. “So, like, are you guys still questioning me or…”

Bow took the spotlight and held it up to his face. “It all goes back to what happened in Dryl. Everyone was in position, and I was using my new tech to look for remaining Horde soldiers. But then, my goggles glitched and I don’t know what happened. I started to see double. That’s when the other team came in way too early. I tried to signal everyone to fall back, but my tracker pad was missing.”

“Whoa,” breathed the shirtless guy.

“Don’t you see what this means?” Bow asked. “Either I lost my tracker pad at Dryl, and that gave the Horde vital information, or I did it on purpose because I am the spy, and I gave the signal and I didn’t even know.”

Bow grabbed the guy’s flower wreath. The shirtless guy stared into Bow’s eyes. “You’re blowing my mind.”

“Bow!” called Frosta. “You aren’t the spy!”

Bow’s voice rose up in panic. “You don’t know that! It all makes sense. Who else could it be?”

Meanwhile in Shadow Weaver’s dark garden…

Adora paced back and forth. “So you’re telling me, you really didn’t know about the plan to retake Dryl? Really?”

Shadow Weaver held a dark rose in her hands. “Not a bit. I’ve been busy with my garden. She’s always been paranoid like this, you know.”

Glimmer giggled under her breath. “I’m not being paranoid,” Adora argued. “You were spotted around the castle without your guards this morning, and I wanna know why.”

“Actually, Adora, that’s…” started Glimmer.

“I was engaging in a ritual,” Shadow Weaver explained. She recounted the time when she stood by her magic basin, naming ingredients and adding them in.

“Essence of Echinacea. A dash of Gingerroot. Ah. My daily morning ritual.”

She held a cup of tea in content.

Adora burst out laughing. “Okay, you expect us to believe you were just having tea? She’s the spy. You’re the spy. Who else could it be?”

“I am not the villain of this story,” stated the sorceress. “As to your question, Glimmer saw fit to grant me free rein of the castle. My guards have been dismissed.”

“No guards? Seriously?” Adora glared at Glimmer.

“Yes, seriously,” she shot back. “What has she done other than to help us?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Girls,” warned Shadow Weaver, “Every moment you waste here, the Horde gets that much further ahead. In order to catch a rat, you need to spring a trap.”

“Well in order to catch the spy, we need you to admit that you’re the spy,” blasted Adora.

“Let it go, Adora,” said Glimmer. “There’s lots of other people it could be.”

“Like who?”

“Ah,” Sea Hawk sighed happily, propping his feet on the table back in the chamber. “I love recounting the epic tales of my exploits. My heroic exploits.”

Mermista groaned out loud, Perfuma sitting next to her on the couch. “It definitely isn’t Sea Hawk. Why did you even bring him in?”

“You said everyone was a suspect,” mentioned Perfuma.

“Exploits for the ages,” Sea Hawk began. “Narration. I was supposed to be guarding the door. But Perfuma relieved me of duty so I could join the fight. I advanced through the courtyard, avoiding the booby traps, risking my very life, just like in Mer-Mystery: Serpent of the Sea.”

“Wait, is that were my book went?” asked Mermista. “Sea Hawk, I’ve been looking for it.”

Sea Hawk continued his story. “That’s when the clouds parted, and the moonlight illuminated my dearest Mermista in the distance.”

“Moonlight?” Mermista sighed. “The battle happened this morning.”

“I made my way over to her when…we were ambushed! My sole aim was to protect Mermista from the Horde. Thinking quick, I took on the 40 or 50 Horde soldiers surrounding us, and saved Dryl.”

“We lost Dryl, and you punched, like, one guy before Glimmer got us out,” Glimmer said with a laugh.

“Exactly 100 guys!” he countered.

Both woman facepalmed. “Wait, wait,” said Perfuma, “I was with the General the whole time.” She leaned in and glared at Mermista, crossing her arms. “And why weren’t you with Sea Hawk, Mermista?”

“Because Frosta waved me over, but disappeared before I could reach her.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. She was with Bow, and then Glimmer, and the others were…”

“Who wants to watch me do some squats?” Sea Hawk asked, beginning his exercise.

Mermista then proceeded to shove him out of the room.

“I bet Adora and Glimmer don’t shove suspects out the door.”

Flutterina sat innocently on a chair, while Adora and Glimmer stood apart, turned away from each other.

“Okay, Flutterina,” asked Glimmer, “Where were you at the start of the battle?”

“With Bow and Frosta, of course. Like we planned. Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” said Glimmer. “Now…”

Flutterina spoke up, “It’s just that, everyone’s so on edge after what happened in Dryl. Have you tried interviewing Shadow Weaver about it? She seems kind of untrustworthy.”

“Oh no,” said Adora with sarcasm. “According to Glimmer, she’s totally trustworthy, and it’s fine to just let her walk around the castle whenever she wants.”

“Can we please not start this up again?” Glimmer asked.

“I’m just saying, it would’ve been nice if you told me.”

“I don’t have to tell you about every decision I make.”

Adora panted in anger. “But you tell Shadow Weaver?”

“Maybe it’s because Shadow Weaver actually listened when you and Bow kept leaving without me!” Glimmer fired back.

Flutterina smiled. “You two seem like you have a lot to talk about. Maybe I’ll just come back later.”

Glimmer added, “I don’t know why I’m going along with this. The Horde is obviously planning something. We should be out there, looking for them, not stuck here, playing around.”

Double Trouble grinned deviously through their disguise as Adora and Glimmer continued their argument.

“No one’s playing around, Glimmer. There is a reason we’ve been losing.”

“And we’re going to keep losing soon if we don’t act.”

Mermista opened the door, the other princesses behind her, startling Flutterina. “There you are. Why are you just standing around? This isn’t Mer-Mystery: The Case of People Who Just Stood Around, the sequel I wrote right now about all of you.”

“Who is even left to question?” asked Glimmer.

Later on that night, several other people were questioned.

“I think I saw Mermista with Bow’s tracker pad,” said an elfish man standing with Entrapta’s baker and servant.

“Wait, you guys have been here the entire time?” asked Bow. Perfuma and Mermista stood with him.

“Tiny scone?” asked the baker, holding up a small desert.

During another interrogation, Mermista, Frosta, and Sea Hawk talked with one of the guards. “I can’t believe you read those too,” said the guard. “Mer-Mystery: The Maltese Otter is my favorite.”

“Ugh, that one’s so predictable,” groaned Mermista. “I saw that twist coming a mile away.”

Swift Wind was next and he did a pose on the table along with a neigh.

Mermista, Perfuma and Adora rolled their eyes.

“Swift Wind, you weren’t even there,” stated Adora.

“I told you how I took out 100…no 150 guys right?” asked Sea Hawk.

Mermista groaned again, frustrated.

Bow them walked over to the front, tears in his eyes and held out his hands. “You have to arrest me for everyone’s safety. Otherwise, my evil alter-ego might do it again.”

“Bow, knock it off,” Glimmer demanded.

Swift Wind posed again with a mace in his mouth.

“Still no,” said Adora. “And put that back.”

Mermista took a look at the other people coming in for the interrogations.

A group of people, one with three eyes…

“It’s not them,” said Mermista.

A bunch of fauns and a dark skinned lady with bull horns…

“No,” said Perfuma.

Netossa and Spinerella in fancy clothing, holding a bouquet of flowers. Two butlers standing awkwardly to the side.

“No,” stated Glimmer.

The shirtless guy came forward. “Okay, dude, I think, like, maybe She-Ra did it.”

“Hey, we already questioned you,” Frosta reminded him.

“Oh yeah, I came back for the tiny scones.”

“I made a fresh batch,” said the smiling baker as the guy popped one into his mouth.

“Fizzy beverage?” asked another server.

“If you just lent me the book, then I’ll show you who done it,” said Mermista to Sea Hawk.

“We should interrogate him again,” argued Perfuma.

“Happened in Pearl in the Window,” Mermista mentioned.

Glimmer stood in her darkened bedroom, watching the lightning flash outside. She conjured her staff in her hand, getting ready to handle the issue herself.

“Glimmer? Where are you going?” Adora asked as she walked behind her.

“This isn’t working. Nothing we do is working. The Horde is always ahead, and I just can’t wait for the next bad thing to happen.”

Adora walked over. “So what? You’re gonna teleport into the Fright Zone and try to solve this by yourself?”

“Someone’s gotta do something.”

“Glimmer, please,” begged Adora. “You can’t leave in the middle of the night without backup.”

Glimmer shook her head. “The less people involved, the better. We don’t know who to trust.”

“And what about me? Were you gonna tell me? Or Bow?”

“Adora, I…”

“Stay. Please. I know we can figure this out if we work together. No more secrets and doing things without us.” Adora placed her hands on Glimmer’s shoulders.

“We need you here. I need you here,” she said softly.

Glimmer’s staff vanished and she put her hand on Adora’s. “Okay. I’m here.”

“Adora! Glimmer!” called Bow.

Frosta opened the doors to Glimmer’s darkened bedroom, spotting Adora and Glimmer. “Where have you guys been?”

“The communication panel in the war room has been severed,” said Perfuma with concern.

All the princesses made their way to the room and sure enough, the holographic map had a hole in it.

“When did this happen?” Adora asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Mermista. “We were passing by the room when we saw it.”

“Wait, we saw you run out of here two minutes ago,” Frosta accused.

“Uh, what are you talking about?” the mer-woman asked. “I was with Perfuma.

“Could the storm have done something to cause this?” Perfuma suggested.

Glimmer then glanced down at a broke tracker pad on the floor in a puddle of water. “This wasn’t an accident. It was sabotage.”

As it began to rain outside, all the members met once again in the chamber sized living room. Everyone remained seated in the same positions as before, but with Glimmer standing by the fire again.

“The General is working on restoring communications. In the meantime, there’s a backup device in the dining room, should we need it.”

Mermista closed the doors. “All of us knew we were trying to unmask the spy. And we were the ones who made the plan to take back Dryl. We’ve ruled out all other suspects. Which means the only person the spy could be is one of us.”

Perfuma gasped.

Frosta stood up on her chair. “Perfuma let the Horde take the doors.”

“I wasn’t there,” she argued. “Wait, your team was the one who told us to come in, and you led Mermista way.”

“I did not,” Frosta snapped.

“Trying to throw the blame on someone else, huh, Frosta?”

Frosta pointed at Mermista. “If Mermista knows so much about mysteries, she’d probably know how to plan the perfect crime.”

“And there was water by the tracker pad,” Perfuma mentioned, glaring at Mermista.

“Water that could’ve been melted ice,” Mermista replied, pointing at Frosta.

Bow cried again. “It’s probably me.”

“It’s not you, Bow!” Frosta shouted.

Mermista countered, “Or maybe it is, like in Mer-Mystery: Salt-er Ego.”

“It couldn’t be me. I was busy fighting at least 200 soldiers,” Sea Hawk bragged.

“This is a waste of time, Glimmer,” said Adora. “Shouldn’t we be…”

“Stop. Stop questioning my choices, stop whining about being a decoy, just stop. Okay?”

“I’m not whining,” said Adora. Sea Hawk did squats on the table.

“All you do is question me, question my authority. It’s exhausting.”

Sea Hawk shouted and buried his head in his hands. “Okay, I lied. I didn’t fight 300 soldiers. Mermista, will you ever forgive me?”

“Sea Hawk, we all knew that,” Mermista deadpanned.

“I don’t know who to believe anymore,” said Bow. “I can’t trust my own eyes. Who am I?”

“Look at what she’s doing to you,” Adora argued. “Shadow Weaver wants power and you are listening to her.”

“Oh what? Are you jealous because you aren’t Shadow Weaver’s favorite anymore? Or are you just mad that I’m queen and in charge and you’re not?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Adora said.

Glimmer wasn’t done. “You just run around playing the perfect hero. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me.”

“Because you stopped including me in your decisions. We used to be a team. And now? I don’t know what we are.”

Flutterina had disappeared and quietly opened the door to the darkened dining room. Flutterina crouched down.

“Come on, backup communicator, where are you?”

The lights turned on and Flutterina gasped.

“Hey, Flutterina,” said Glimmer. “Looking for something?” Glimmer and Adora stood, triumphant.

“Glimmer? Heh. Adora. Hi, hi. Uh, just looking for the bathroom.”

Flutterina ran into Bow who stood with Frosta, Perfuma, and Mermista, all grinning.

Flutterina backed up on the floor. “Okay. Okay. This looks bad, but it isn’t what it looks like. So let’s all just…”

Flutterina kicked Adora in the foot and ran off. Adora grabbed onto it in pain and fell down. The spy grinned and ran toward the door…only to be blocked by a force of magic. The spy stood trapped, standing on a glowing light blue circle.

“Oh,” they said with a laugh, touching the force field around them. “I see.”

Glimmer stepped forward, having cast the spell. “Give it up, Flutterina. If that’s really who you are.”

“Magic. How very clever,” remarked the trickster.

“Isn’t it? Shadow Weaver helped,” said Adora.

“You see…” Glimmer began, but both girls were shoved aside by an excited Mermista. “The reveal of how they caught the murderer is my favorite part.”

Glimmer sighed.

“In order to catch a rat, you need to spring a trap,” recounted Adora. “So we set up one of our own.”

“Classic murder mystery move,” added Mermista.

Perfuma spoke, “There’s no murder…never mind.”

Glimmer began, “We knew a backup communication device would be irresistible to whoever destroyed the original.”

Adora added, “We wanted the spy to feel safe enough to make a move, so we created a diversion.”

“Adora managed to be a really good actress for once,” said Glimmer.

“It was really hard. Do not ask me to do that again,” she said.

“So that brings us back to you,” stated Glimmer, walking over. “Who are you really, Flutterina?”

The shapeshifter transformed into Glimmer, causing the queen to yelp and step back. They then transformed into Bow, Frosta, Perfuma, Mermista, and Adora.

“Please…” they said as they transformed into their true form. “Call me Double Trouble.”

“You’re a shape-shifter?” asked Adora in shock.

Bow gasped. “It wasn’t my goggles glitching. It was you pretending to be Frosta at Dryl!”

“And Perfuma said Double Trouble. “Don’t shortchange my credits, darling.”

They gave a bow and moved their tongue over their eyelid, making everyone gasp in disgust.

They continued. “May I say, as one actor to another, that was truly a masterful performance. I really bought that you two were furious at each other. If you would indulge me, were you inspired from any real emotion or experience?”

Glimmer glared. “Enough. It’s over, Double Trouble. Now tell us what the Horde is planning.”

Double Trouble laughed. “Over? Oh, love, it’s just beginning. The Horde has been planning a massive attack for some time now. I let Catra know that you were going to Dryl. After that, all I had to do was plant seeds of doubt. Sowing chaos where I could.”

Double Trouble has disguised themselves as Frosta, Perfuma, and Mermista, luring the group away. They also smashed the holographic map with a hunk of metal and broke the tracker pad when no one was looking.

“It wasn’t hard. I just had to keep you isolated and at each other’s throats until the plan was underway. Salineas. If the Horde controls the seas, they control Etheria.”

Mermista looked downcast and twiddled her dark blue braid.

“That will never happen. We won’t let it,” Glimmer claimed. “Now that we know their plan, we can stop it.”

Double Trouble laughed again. “No. Stop it? Oh, this was a ruse, darling. A distraction. The Battle of Salineas is over. It happened earlier this very evening. It’s too late. Salineas is gone.”

“No,” breathed Mermista.

“No!” cried Glimmer. “No, it’s not too late. It can’t be.”

In desperation, Glimmer teleported her friends over to Salineas. Glimmer raced up the hill, spotting a bright red Horde flag waving in the wind, the black symbol on it. To everyone’s horror, the magical gate was broken and filled with gaping red holes like wounds. Horde flags stood guard at every corner. Black smoke rose up into the blood red sky. A lone doll was floating in the water.

Mermista sunk down to her knees and sobbed.

“We can fix this,” Adora assured. “We have to be able to fix this, right?”

“This won’t happen again,” said Glimmer, tears in her eyes. “I won’t let it. We won’t give up. We will take back Salineas. Take back all of Etheria. No matter what it costs. No matter what the Horde throws at us next.”

Hordak and Catra smiled at their victory, while out in space, Horde Prime grinned sinisterly.

Frosta watched the simulation of the planet blowing up in boredom, sitting at the holographic map table.

“So how do we stop it?” Frosta asked.

Frosta yawned. She closed her eyes and accidentally banged her head on the table startling herself awake.

“Maybe we should continue this in the morning? Not that I’m up past my bedtime. I don’t have a bedtime. I can go to bed whenever I want.”

Frosta rubbed her eyes when she saw Scorpia sitting on Emily.

“Horde soldier!” yelled Frosta as all the princesses got ready to attack.

Frosta jumped into the air. “You ruined Princess Prom!” she shouted, landing on the ground with an ice fist, where Scorpia had been standing a moment earlier.

Frosta sent out a sheet of ice, causing Emily and Scorpia to slip and fall to the outside.

Scorpia was tied up and she told her story.

Frosta led Scorpia to a comfortable spare room with her ice spear.

“Hang on. I get to stay here?” Scorpia asked.

“This is the only other spare room we have. But don’t go thinking it’s a sleepover. We’re guarding you.”

Frosta later asked, “How strong are your pincers? Can you crush things or just cut?”

“Oh you know, they’re good for general pinching. And cutting through basically everything.”

“Really?” Frosta asked, excited. “I gotta try that.” She created ice claws from her hands.

“Oh, are you…are you crying? Is it because I made ice pincers? I’m sorry. That’s your thing. I get it.”

“No it’s not that,” said a sad Scorpia. “The Horde always told me I was different, that I wouldn’t fit in with you all. But you’re making me feel like the opposite of not belonging, which I guess is belonging?”

“I used to feel that way too,” Frosta explained. “And then I met Glimmer and the others and I realized that none of us fit in. We’re all different, but that’s okay.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” said Scorpia.

“Well don’t get used to it,” Frosta said, serious again. “You’re still our prisoner.”

She created her ice spear and walked off, but then stopped.

“But I’ve got first watch, so I’ll be up if you wanna talk more.”

Scorpia smiled.

Later, Bow and Adora snuck out of the castle.

Frosta opened the doors.

“What’s happening?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Uh…you’re asleep,” said Bow. “Yeah, you’re asleep. This is a dream. A dream.”

“Yes, the flying unicorn dream,” said Swift Wind. “Classic.”

“I know what you’re doing,” said Frosta. “And you better hurry.”

“You’re…you’re not gonna stop us?” asked Adora.

“I didn’t join the Princess Alliance just to fight. I joined to save people. And the Horde, even after everything they did…they’re people, just like us. I’ll cover for you, but you have to go now. Everyone will be up soon.”

Bow and Adora nodded in thanks, jumped onto Swift Wind and flew off.

Frosta looked on, hoping they would be alright.

Frosta became superpowered and fought with Perfuma against the Horde bots. Perfuma glowed green, Frosta glowed blue, each shooting out plants and ice respectively.

Frosta, Perfuma, and Scorpia yelled in pain as their powers were used. They huddled together until the pain was over. Frosta was last seen with Perfuma, looking at the sky, now filled with stars.

Season 5

Episode 1: Horde Prime

Horde Prime’s spear shaped ships hovered around Etheria. One of their massive vertical white ships landed on the ground, crushing trees underneath. The double doors opened and an army of white robots with laser guns marched down the walkway and through the grass. White small drones flew overhead. They scanned the forest, emitting beams of green light.

Two Etherians huddled together; a young white skinned boy with curly brown-red hair and a winged dark skinned woman with yellow clothing and short green hair. They saw the ships and started to run, only to be surrounded by several more. Green light shone onto them.

“For Etheria!”

Adora jumped into the air and smashed a drone with her long stick. She smashed the drone with her stick before it could fly away. The Etherians smiled before gasping again. Another oncoming drone was shot by Bow’s arrow.

Bow smiled and stepped on the fallen drone.

“Two down!”

Swift Wind kicked another drone with his hooves, sending it crashing to the ground.

“And a whole Galactic Horde to go!” Swift Wind called.

Perfuma trapped another drone with thick green plant vines. Frosta hit the drone with her ice fists.

“I’ll get the next one, I guess,” Mermista mentioned.

Swift Wind landed.

“It’s okay, you can come out now,” Adora called.

More Etherians emerged from the woods. Bow and Perfuma helped them across a log bridge while Frosta stood guard with her ice fists at the ready.

Frosta’s advisors and loved ones had warned her to be careful during the battle. Some didn’t even want Frosta to go out and risk endangering herself. But Frosta had to help her friends.

Adora smiled at an Etherian before gazing up at the looming spire space ship.

A random green laser shot through the air.

“Run!” Adora shouted.

Three white robots burst through a tree which exploded. Perfuma retracted the vine bridge.

Mermista grinned and got into position. “My turn.”

She summoned a large wave and knocked the robots down.

Bow called out to them, “Come on, let’s go before they…”

Adora shouted and dashed forward.

“Adora!” Bow yelled. Frosta stood with her ice fists. What was going on with her?

Adora leapt and kicked a white bot in the chest. Her staff and the robot’s arm sword clashed. The robot pointed its gun at her and narrowly missed. The robot soon fizzled and exploded after Adora moved out of the way.

But more robots and drones were coming.

Adora grinned and raised her staff. “For the honor of…uh…”

She stared in shock as she couldn’t transform into She-Ra.

A robot shot a blast that missed, then clutched her staff with both arms, throwing her hard into a tree.

Bow shot another drone before looking over.

“Adora!”

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Ow.” She winced as the bot walked closer.

Mermista blasted the robot away with water. She rushed over to her.

“Adora, chill. You’re not She-Ra anymore, remember?”

Adora spotted another bot, stood up and left. “I’m on it!”

“Ugh! I just said…” Mermista groaned.

“Gotcha.” Adora slid on the ground, using her legs to trip another robot. She yelled and broke the robot’s visor.

The Rebellion headed back to camp, which was protected with magic overhead in white and pink bands.

Bow and Entrapta were discussing plans at a table. Both were typing into hand held devices. Entrapta had on her bug shaped purple mask.

“Adora, did you get any sleep?” Bow asked.

Entrapta lifted her mask.

Ignoring the question Adora asked, “Have you finished the updates to Mara’s ship yet? How soon can we take off to rescue Glimmer?”

Bow spoke, “It’s a little more complicated since…”

“Space!” Entrapta exclaimed dlightfully. She took Bow’s device with her light purple hair. She twirled around and tapped the screen with her hair tendrils. She used her hair as a chair. “Sorry, I’m just so excited. In order to achieve maximum velocity for lift-off, the repairs and upgrades to the shields, the engines, and the life support should take us approximately…oh. A very long time.”

“We don’t have time,” Adora stated. “Glimmer’s up there, somewhere, waiting for us. We just have to figure out where.”

Bow placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find her. I know we will.”

Entrapta popped up. “This isn’t just a little update. Space has a lot more dangers and variables, crushing pressure, freezing temperatures, vaporization.” She moved sideways, shivered and waved her hair in dramatization for each one. “All it takes is one little hull breach and then, whoosh! That’s it.”

The purple screen icon showed hovering figures with xs for eyes.

Entrapta continued. “Besides, there’s no telling where Glimmer could be. Space is always expanding, always getting bigger and bigger.”

She let out a laugh, which unnerved Bow and Adora.

Entrapta stood up. “But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll determine her precise location soon.”

Adora sat on the bench and pinched her nose in frustration before going inside another tent. Shadow Weaver, Frosta, Micah, Perfuma, Mermista, and a guard were there. A map of the land showed red icons for Horde Prime’s territories.

“Are you kidding me?” Frosta asked in disbelief.

“The sorcerer’s spells will keep us hidden only for so long,” said Shadow Weaver. “Then what? This is the only way. Your daughter understood well enough.”

She jabbed at Micah who shoved her hand aside. “You don’t talk to me about my daughter.”

“She would never have us abandon Bright Moon,” said Shadow Weaver.

“We couldn’t hold Bright Moon with the Galactic Horde attacking us form overhead. We need cover,” stated Micah.

“Which is precisely why we should use the Heart of Etheria,” Shadow Weaver stated.

Everybody groaned.

“Come on!” Frosta yelled.

“I can’t. I just can’t,” said Perfuma.

Mermista looked at her, annoyed. “Okay, so we’re not doing that, because A, without Glimmer and, most importantly, without She-Ra, the Heart of Etheria won’t work. And B when it did “work,” it nearly destroyed everyone. So, no thanks.”

Frosta crossed her arms. “Oh and also, C, we don’t like you and we don’t want your help.”

“Also, D, are you still our prisoner?” Perfuma asked. “Could we get a rundown of who is and who is not our prisoner anymore?”

Adora walked up front. “Arguing is not going to help us. We need information on Horde Prime to find Glimmer. And we won’t get any of that sitting around here.”

“Adora’s right,” said Micah. “The best thing we can do now is focus on evacuations, scouting missions, and keeping everyone safe until we can learn more of Horde Prime’s plans. Our scouts report that another one of his spires has been spotted near Thaymor.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Didn’t we just save Thaymor?” Mermista asked.

“No, you’re thinking Elberon,” said Frosta.

Mermista flopped back into a sofa. “Ugh. Can everywhere stop getting invaded for like, five seconds?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll bring them back here,” Adora called.

“Alone?” Perfuma asked, placing her hand son her shoulders. “Adora, you really ought to bring backup. You’re not you know who anymore.”

“Fine. I’ll take a team,” said Adora.

The group began to leave.

“I still believe in you, Adora,” said Micah. “You saved me and I know you’re gonna save my little girl.”

“I promise I’ll find Glimmer, Your Majesty. Wherever she is, we’ll get her back.”

Adora sighed and followed everyone out.

Swift Wind flew overhead and scouted the area. More woodland creatures with human appearances walked down the path.

Swift Wind landed by Scorpia.

“No bots in sight. I don’t wanna jinx it or anything, but this is a pretty great first mission together.”

Scorpia smiled. “I am so happy you said that, ‘cause I feel the same way. We’re kind of a great team. Between your hooves…”

“And your pinchers…” he added.

“And our positive attitude, nothing can get in our way.”

Swift Wind laughed. “Oh, uh, just so you know, I have been known to sing from time to time.”

Scorpia’s eyes lit up. “What? I love singing. Catra always said it was annoying. Man you guys are the best.”

“That’s the last of them. No bots, no drones, we’re all clear,” said Bow.

A young dark faun dropped a She-Ra doll.

“Wait!” called Adora. She picked it up and handed it to her. “Here you go.” The girl’s eyes shone in thanks.

Bow’s device suddenly beeped.

“Uh oh,” said Swift Wind. “Beeps and that look are never a good combination.”

Bow put on goggles and looked ahead. He spotted three clones. “We’ve got trouble.”

Bow, Scorpia and Swift Wind ducked behind a rock.

Swift Wind whispered, “Is that Hordak? Three Hordaks?”

“That’s not Hordak,” said Bow.

Scorpia put the goggles on and gasped. “Clones.”

“We need to get out of here,” said Bow.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” said Adora as she shouted and charged at them.

“Wait! Adora!” shouted Bow.

Scorpia raced after her and stung her in the back. Then the group ran as fast as they could.

Adora hung upside down then opened her eyes.

“No!” she gasped.

Swift Wind laughed. “You’re awake! Hello, Adora.”

“What happened?” she groaned.

She fell to the ground. “Where are those clones? Did we get them?”

“Okay, um, don’t get mad, but I may have had to sting you,” said Scorpia. “Just a little.”

“What?”

“You were refusing to retreat, and we really, really needed to run away.”

“Space clones!” exclaimed Swift Wind.

“You stung me?”

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Scorpia said. “But I don’t regret it, and will do it again if needed. Mm. Sorry again.”

“Adora, you can’t run into battle like that,” scolded Bow. “Not anymore. You have to stop acting like your invincible. You aren’t…”

“You don’t need to say it,” Adora muttered. “I know. I made that choice, I’m living with the consequences.”

“What were you trying to do?”

“Maybe I could get those clones to tell us where Glimmer is being held. Then at least I’d be one step closer to saving her.”

“That’s…not a bad idea,” Bow remarked.

“Wait, what?”

“Trying to fight a group of clones by yourself is reckless. Catching and questioning one clone is also reckless, but this time we do it together.”

After they interrogated the clone, a pink moon of magic appeared in the air.

“That’s from Micah! They’re in trouble!” said Bow. The group rushed off to camp sliding down a steep rocky hill.

Back at camp, Mermista and Frosta were busy fighting off Horde Prime’s forces. Mermista summoned water from barrels and Frosta slide on an ice wall. She froze some bots then stabbed other bots with icicles in midair. Perfuma smashed more bots with a large vine. Behind her, Micah, Shadow Weaver and some guards were running off.

Entrapta bent down to pick up scraps of metal.

“This is amazing! Alien tech from a distant world.”

Micah used a sphere of purple magic in a sigil shape to make an overhead bot explode. He conjured a shield to protect Entrapta as smoke clouded the area. A robot raised a spear arm.

“Micah!” gasped Shadow Weaver. She threw a grenade at the robot, which exploded and fell.

Miah scoffed in thought before he and Entrapta left.

“You’re welcome,” Shadow Weaver said in frustration.

More bots closed in.

Scorpia blasted them down with red electricity from her claw.

“This way. Excuse me, pardon me,” she said as she ran forward. “Hi. Hello. How are you? Watch out there.” Micah picked up Entrapta before she could look at more scraps.

“Come on,” said Bow. “Adora, wait!”

“I can do this,” she said as she rushed forward.

The rebels were struggling as more bots arrived.

Scorpia rescued Adora as she struck down more bots surrounding Adora.

“Adora, are you okay?” Bow asked.

“No. You were right, Bow. I can’t fight them all. I’m not strong enough, I’m not She-Ra. I’m not a hero anymore, I’m just me. And I can’t do this alone.”

“But Adora, you aren’t alone. You’ve never been. We’ve got this. Together.”

“Together,” Adora said. They clasped hands then ran into the battle.

Mermista send up pillars of water while Scorpia punched a bot to the ground. Frosta punched a bot with her ice fists while Perfuma summoned her plants.

“Scorpia! Coming at you,” Adora called as she swiped a bot with her staff. Scorpia shocked the bot with a blast.

“Bow! The drone!” Adora called.

“Got it,” said Bow as he notched an arrow and fired.

Mermista swept several bots aside with water.

Frosta shot ice at bots and three inched closer.

“Frosta, ice catapult,” Adora ran with her staff out. Frosta ran to her, launched herself off the stick and rammed into the bots.

“We can’t stay here. It isn’t safe anymore,” said Adora.

“We’re kind of running out of places to hide,” said Bow, with a look of worry.

Adora gasped as visions of the Whispering Woods entered her mind. “I think I know where we can go.”

More bots and drones rushed forward.

“And we better hurry. Come on.”

Adora led the way into the woods.

“Adora, were are we going?” Bow asked. Bow was followed by Mermista, Frosta, Perfuma, Micah.

“It’s around here somewhere. A place where we’ll be safe. Madame Razz brought me there, and I saw it again in my dreams. I just have to hope it lets us in.”

Adora spotted a light between two trunks.

“There.” She pulled it and the trees parted.

The nine members breathed in awe.

The area was surrounded by sparks and spirals of magic. The sparks danced through the air like fireflies as crystals stood out in random places.

“Whoa,” Adora breathed as she ran to the center.

“Wow,” said Scorpia as the others admired the area. A few three-eyed teal colored deer peered out to see the visitors.

Frosta admired the scene as well, her hair short and blue. She wished her parents could see a beautiful place like this. She knew that they would be proud of her, how fast she was growing up…not that she had much of a choice in the matter. The battles were constant, always filling her up with adrenaline and energy. She fought tough and acted tough in order to be taken seriously.

Frosta imagined a future where everyone was older. She would be ruling her kingdom as a teenager, winning every boxing match in her spare time. Entrapta would make inventions with Hordak and they would fly to distant worlds. Mermista and Sea Hawk would be up to their sailing adventures and hopefully not setting more boats on fire. Adora and Catra would laugh and spend time together. Glimmer and Bow would be together as well, perhaps getting ready for Scorpia’s ball at BrightMoon.

Adora and Catra…

Bow and Glimmer…

Netossa and Spinnerella…

Scorpia and Perfuma…

Mermista and Sea Hawk…

Entrapta and Hordak…

Frosta felt like she was the only one would won’t get into some kind of relationship in the future. But at least she would have Glimmer and all her friends around.

“Where are we?” Micah asked.

Adora smiled. “The deepest part of the Whispering Woods. Horde Prime won’t find us here. We’re safe. Now we just need to set up camp and…”

Adora grunted and clutched her head, sinking to her knees. “Adora!” cried Bow. “Adora!”

The visions of She-Ra flashed in her head: her sword shattering after stopping Light Hope, the Fright Zone, Etheria in space, She-Ra in her golden form…just out of Adora’s reach…

Episode 2: Launch

Frosta and the others listened to Horde prime’s message.

Frosta came into the room and saw Adora lying down.

“Is he dead?” Frosta asked in shock.

“What? No,” said Bow.

“Okay, good, ‘cause Adora does the planning, and we’re wondering if there’s a plan…”

Bow held up his hands. “Look, the upgrades to Mara’s ship are done, but we can’t go anywhere until Adora’s back on her feet.”

He turned back to Adora. “So go to sleep and everyone will…”

Swift Wind cut a hole in the tent with his horn. “Did someone say “Swift Wind?!”

Bow covered the horse’s mouth just as Micah came in.

“Is Adora feeling better? Did you tell her Horde Prime’s message? Does she know he’s looking for her?”

“What?” Adora sat up.

“Okay, that’s enough,” said Bow. “Adora, rest! Swift Wind, head!”

Swift Wind pushed Adora back down gently.

“Everyone, shh!” said Bow.

“She will be fine soon, right?” Frosta asked.

“Yes. She just needs sleep,” Bow mentioned.

Frosta, Micah and Swift Wind left.

Entrapta appeared in the tent.

“Adora sick log, day three.” She spoke into her recorder.

“Nope!” said Bow and pushed her out.

Entrapta wailed. “Wait! But it’s for science!”

Mermista, Perfuma, Frosta, Scorpia and Emily sat by a fire outside.

“Look we have to do something,” said Mermista. “We don’t know when Adora is gonna get better, and even when she does, we have no plan for how to get Glimmer back. We know she’s on Horde Prime’s ship, but we don’t know where that is, like, in space.”

Perfuma spoke, “Well, then it’s up to us to make a plan to find Glimmer. With these.”

She held figures of Bow and Adora in her hand.

Frosta stood on a log. “We don’t need dolls. We just need these!” She made ice fists.

“What are you gonna do with those?” Mermista asked.

“Punch Horde Prime,” Frosta grinned.

Perfuma cleared her throat. “Perhaps if we meditate we can access our princess connection to find Glimmer’s spirit out in space.”

Entrapta walked over. “Hello. Oh hi. Were you guys talking about space?”

The group looked down and were silent.

Perfuma spoke. “Yes. We were talking about how to get Glimmer back from spa…”

Entrapta leaned in. “I’d do anything to go to space. An infinite universe of information at our fingertips, full of countless planets and stars and civilizations…”

Mermista covered Entrapta’s mouth.

“This isn’t like a fun field trip for you to run more of your messed up experiments. Our friend’s out there, remember?”

Entrapta smiled.

“Glimmer?” Mermista prodded.

Entrapta stared blankly.

Mermista groaned in frustration. “The sparkly one?”

“You’ve met her multiple times,” Frosta added.

“Oh, right,” Entrapta said, as Mermista facepalmed.

Scorpia had an idea. “Wow…hey Entrapta. Look over there! Is that a robot?”

“A robot? Where?” She ran off with a crash.

Scorpia spoke, “Look, I know that she can be kind of, “Whoa, science!”” She mimicked explosions and laughed. “But I promise, Entrapta has a good heart.”

Mermista crossed her arms. “She’s betrayed us before. For all we know, as soon as she sees Horde Prime’s ship up close, she’ll ditch us to join his army.”

“She did use her inventions to attack us a lot,” Perfuma added, in worry.

“I’m just saying,” said Scorpia, “none of us know how to track a spaceship, but Entrapta might. If you just give her a chance.”

Entrapta was on the top of a tent. After looking at Scorpia’s pleading look, Mermista sighed. “Fine.” They walked over to her.

“Okay, Geek Princess,” said Mermista, “are you gonna help us or not?”

Entrapta stared.

Mermista groaned. “If you help us find Glimmer, you can go to space.”

“Great!” she cried, sliding next to Mermista.

The five princesses huddled behind a bush, Frosta holding two green leaves for cover. Entrapta held a device and a metal U shaped antenna connected by a wire. The sky was full of stars. The tall spire was surrounded by flying drones and guards.

“The message from Horde Prime was transmitted through that spire,” stated Entrapta. “Which means it’s got a wavelength connecting it to his main base of operation, one that we can track.”

“Great. So track it,” Mermista deadpanned.

“Well, hypothetically we can track it. Horde Prime’s astral communication network is incredibly complex, and I’ve only been able to intercept parts. I’d need to gain as much proximity as possible to the receptor before I can triangulate their origin.”

The others were confused.

“I need to get close to the spire to track the signal.”

Everyone said “Got it.”

“If we follow that signal, we’ll find a ship of impossibly sophisticated design, the center of a super technologically advanced empire…”

“I think mostly we’re just hoping to find our kidnapped friend,” Perfuma replied.

“That spire is crawling with surveillance bots,” said Mermista.”We need to find a way to sneak past them, so we can get Geek Princess close enough to track the signal.”

“So what’s the plan?” Scorpia asked.

“Uh…that’s the whole plan. We sneak past the surveillance bots.” She groaned. “I don’t know. Adora usually handles the being in charge stuff.”

Persuma spoke next. “Okay, we sneak past the bots, and then if any of them see us, we…”

“Punch the bots!” Frosta made ice fists.

“Sure, sounds like enough of a plan for me,” Mermista said. “And someone needs to keep an eye on…”

Entrapta hummed as she walked. Mermista turned back in anger.

“What? Did she seriously just immediately run off?” The group followed.

The group waited behind a boulder as a drone sped past. They followed Mermista after she raised a hand. Mermista, Frosta, Scorpia, Perfuma and Entrapta. Entrapta was dragged by Perfuma’s vine. The group ran to another rock.

“Well, no signal here. We need to get closer,” said Entrapta.

Mermista groaned. “I hate the desert.”

She looked toward the spire. “All clear. Let’s go.”

The group ran off but Entrapta skidded to a stop. “Wait, I think I’m getting something.” She tapped her device with her hair. Perfuma turned back to her as the others ran ahead.

“Entrapta, we really need to get out of the open,” Perfuma urged.

Entrapta dragged Perfuma along as she climbed onto a rock. “Hang on, I’ve almost got it. I need to get up higher.”

Entrapta climbed. “So close, almost got it.”

She reached the top of the rock, her hair wrapped around the top point and checked her device.

Her device buzzed.

“Nope. False alarm. We need to get closer.”

A whirring sound grew closer as a drone passed by.

Perfuma flung Entrapta off the rock where she landed on the ground with a thud. She grabbed her and both pressed their backs against the rock wall. Perfuma held a hand over Entrapta’s mouth as the drone scanned the area. The drone beeped and flew off.

Perfuma whispered, “What do we do?”

Mermista, Scorpia and Frosta stood near several rocks.

Mermista held out her arm and with her other hand, made a walking motion with her fingers. She then moved both her arms, her hand sin fists in a running motion.

“I should run?” Perfuma asked.

Frosta sighed, head lowered. Mermista made full body jogging movements.

“Don’t run? Do run?”

Mermista circles her palms in the air.

“What?”

Mermista pointed and whispered, “Entrapta.”

Perfuma looked at her vine, which was empty at the end. She gasped in shock and looked around.

Entrapta was wandering around, looking at her device in thought.

Worst of all, she was walking right into the green scanner beams.

Mernista and Frosta ducked as Scorpia shot electricity that broke off a top part of a rock with an explosion. The drone flew off in distraction.

The group sighed in relief before Scorpia let out a scream.

Entrapta bumped into a tall white robot and fell down backwards.

Entrapta smirked as the robot scanned her. “Oh hello,” she said suggestively. “You’re very technologically advanced.”

The robot pointed its gun at her. Entrapta screamed. “Bad robot!”

Frosta froze the robot in ice and it fell down backwards with a clank.

Frosta pulled her along. “Come on!”

The robot beeped inside the ice. The spire glowed with red dots as more drones flew out from it. Scorpia peered from behind a rock.

“What do we do?” she asked.

Mermista had her head in her hands. “I don’t know. This plan was obviously doomed from the start. I’m not Adora. Why did I think I could be the leader?”

Entrapta moved the antenna close. “Well, still nothing. This transmission pattern is fascinating. We should get closer.”

“We can’t,” said Mermista, shoving the metal antenna away and sending it clattering to the ground. “Thanks to you, this place is about to be swarming with bots. We have to retreat.” She groaned. “I should’ve known better than to trust you.”

A pang of hurt came over Entrapta as Mermista continued.

“You don’t care about Glimmer or any of us. You only care about tech.”

“Are you all mad at me?” she asked.

Mermista seethed. “You’re seriously just realizing that? Yeah, we’re mad.”

“You don’t consider how your actions affect other people,” Perfuma added. “People who are supposed to be your friends.”

“Like us,” Frosta chimed in. “The ones who were getting beat up by your dumb bots. And whose kingdoms you almost destroyed!” Frosta had tears in her eyes.

Entrapta lowered her head. “I’m not good at people, but I am good at tech. I thought maybe if I could use tech to help you, you’d like me. But I messed that up, too.”

Entrapta ran off.

“Entrapta, no!” yelled Mermista as she ran after her.

Mermista grabbed her purple hair which made Entrapta scream in pain.

“I said we have to leave! Can’t you listen for once in your life?”

“I’m sorry I’m bad at listening!” Entrapta yelled. “I’m sorry I mess everything up!” She held up her device and antenna. “But you need this signal and I’m gonna get it for you.”

Mermista let go. “You’re still trying to get the signal?”

“Of course,” Entrapta said, this time tears in her magenta eyes. “Glimmer needs us.”

They both looked up as more drones approached. White robots marched outside.

“Okay Geek Princess, get that signal. We’ll cover you.”

Entrapta smiled and ran ahead.

Mermista turned to her friends. “Frosta, Scorpia, on Entrapta! Perfuma, with me! Now!”

Perfuma followed Mermista and Scorpia and Frosta raced ahead.

Scorpia and Frosta grinned before Scorpia lifted Frosta into the air. She did several flips and shot ice from her hands, destroying four drones at the same time.

Entrapta launched herself forward and was soon right in front of the spire.

She stared in awe at the technological wonder.

“Oh…what’s inside you?”

She slapped herself with her hair. “Focus, Entrapta. Glimmer needs you.”

She rapidly typed into her device and held the antenna into the air.

Mermista used her trident to battle a robot. A blast narrowly missed them. Mermista’s trident and the robot’s sword arm clashed. Her trident caught the arm and forced it to the ground. But the robot pointed its gun…

Perfuma’s plant vine lifted the gun away from Mermista. The plant vine wrapped around the robot before Mermista struck the bot in its metal head with her trident.

More bots stood in a doorway.

“Perfuma, cut off that spire.”

Perfuma yelled and plant vines rapidly grew in the doorway, blocking off the robots.

“Nice job,” said Mermista.

“Thanks,” Perfuma said. “I wish there was water here for you though.”

Mermista ducked in shock as a drone sped nearby. She looked down at the ground. “But there is.”

Old thick pipes ran along the ground.

“If there’s one thing I know in the Fright Zone, it’s the sewer system.”

She held out her arms and yelled. The pipes soon broke and sludge flowed out and blasted drones away. Scorpia and Frosta huddled for cover on the ground.

Scorpia made a face. “Oh, wow, that smells…” she gagged.

Frosta cheered. “That was so gross!”

The group ran over to Entrapta.

“Almost. Got it! Okay, good news and bad news. The good news, I’ve successfully triangulated Horde Prime’s flagship.”

“Hooray!” cheered Scorpia.

“Bad news, I intercepted the last message he sent. He’s sending reinforcement ships to Etheria. They’ll be here any minute.”

Scorpia lowered her arm. “I take back my “horray.”

The group rushed toward Mara’s ship.

“We’re exposed here,” Micah said. “We need to make these goodbyes quick.”

“We’ll be back as soon as we can” said Adora to Mermista. She gave her a hug. “The Rebellion is in good hands.”

“Yeah, as it turns out, I’m an awesome leader, so we’re gonna be fine,” Mermista said with a blush. And Entrapta helped.” She pulled her in, and whispered to her, “You’re still a weirdo, but you did good today. We’ve got your back any time.”

Perfuma, Frosta, and Scorpia nodded with smiles. Entrapta smiled as tears came from her eyes. The group sobbed and embraced in a large group hug.

Swift Wind pulled Adora to the side, grabbing her collar with his mouth. They stood facing each other. “Adora, I...I’m not going to…Oh! I don’t know how to say this.”

“You’re staying here,” said Adora.

“I don’t belong on a ship,” Swift Wind agreed. “I belong on Etheria, protecting it. And with you gone, someone’s gotta bring the gorgeous flowing hair. “He laughed then broke into sobs. “I hope you’re not disappointed in me.”

Adora held his nose and chin with her hands. “Are you kidding? I’m proud. You’re exactly where you need to be. I’m not She-Ra anymore.”

“But I’ll always be your loyal steed.”

Whirring sounds buzzed from ahead, as the drones approached.

“Surveillance bots. If they see the ship, they’ll alert the armada and stop us,” Frosta warned.

“What are we gonna do?” Scorpia asked. “Are we gonna stay here?”

“No,” said Micah. “We’re getting this ship off Etheria no matter what. I’ve got an idea.”

The row of bots fired their laser guns. She Ra and Swift Wind did a pose, then blasted the bots to the ground with a blast of magic.

“You want She-Ra? Come and get her!” Frosta slammed her fists to the ground, ice spreading along the ground. The bots were frozen in an ice wall.

More bots appeared, weapons raised.

“What do you think, Micah?” Mermista asked. “Have we wasted enough of their time?”

Micha removed his facial disguise. “Get my good side.”

Micah shot a circle of magic that blasted several bots away. Perfuma and Mermista lifted other bots in a wave of water and vines. Scorpia and Frosta punched the robots at every moment.

An engine roared and the group looked up to see the ship blasting off safely.

Everyone cheered and raised their arms.

“Whoo!”

“Yes! Yes!” cheered Frosta. “Go get our girl! Go, Adora! Go go go! Go save my best friend!”

“Hooray!” said Scorpia. “I reinstate my hooray!”

“You okay?” Swift Wind asked Micah when he transformed back into his regular outfit. “I know you wanted to go.”

“But If I hadn’t stayed, they wouldn’t have been able to take off at all. I trust my daughter’s friends. They saved me. Now they’ll save her.”

Micah looked up hopefully at a pink sky. “See you soon, baby girl.”

Episode 6: Taking Control

Frosta thinks that Micah sees her as a little kid and doesn’t like it. Micah tries to relate to her. Frosta saves the group by forming an ice shield when they’re attacked by brainwashed Etherians.

Episode 9: An Ill Wind

Frosta happily reunites with Glimmer, and they hug. Frosta punches Catra before Adora says she’s on their side.

Episode 11: Failsafe

Netossa tells Frosta’s weakness is fire.

Episode 12 and 13: The Heart

Frosta helps the team defeat the Horde bots and free the others. Frosta rides n Scorpia’s back as she celebrates their victory. Perfuma, Adora, Scorpia and Frosta embrace in a princess hug and laugh.

#frosta #She Ra

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

Text

Document: What Chinese Officials Told Children Whose Families Were Put in Camps https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/11/16/world/asia/china-detention-directive.html

Document: What

Chinese Officials

Told Children

Whose Families

Were Put in Camps

PART 2

Published NOV. 16, 2019 | New York Times | Posted November 16, 2019 |

This document, part of 403 pages obtained by The New York Times, tells Chinese officials in Xinjiang how to explain the disappearance of parents and families detained in camps built to hold Muslim minorities. Anguished students asking about their parents were told they had nothing to worry about.

LEAKED FILES EXPOSE HOW CHINA ORGANIZED MASS DETENTIONS OF MUSLIMS

Annex:

Tactics from Turpan City for answering questions asked by the children of concentrated education and training school1 students

1. Where are my family members?

They’re in a training school set up by the government to undergo collective systematic training, study and instruction. They have very good conditions for studying and living there, and you have nothing to worry about. Tuition for their period of study is free and so are food and living costs, and the standards are quite high. The provision for food is 21 yuan or more a day — that’s even better than the living standards that some students have back home.2 Our officials accompany them at study every day, offering counseling and assistance, and they eat the same food and live in the same dormitories, so you have absolutely no need to worry about how they’re doing. If you want to see them, we can arrange for you to have a video meeting.

2. Why do my family members have to take part in studying?

Your family member has been sent to study because they have come under a degree of harmful influence in religious extremism and violent terrorist thoughts. If at some point the “Three Forces” or people with ulterior motives incited or bewitched them, the consequences would be severe. 3If they came under the sway of extremist ideas and the “Three Forces” and did something that they shouldn’t do, they would injure not just innocent members of society, but also themselves and other family members, relatives and friends, including you. I don’t think that’s something you would ever want to see happen. So for everyone’s security, for the happiness of your family, and so that you can focus on your studies, we had to send them to a school at the first opportunity to undergo concentrated education and study.

______

Q. and A.

1 This is one of the euphemistic terms the Chinese government uses to refer to the sprawling network of indoctrination camps it is using to detain an estimated one million Muslims in Xinjiang. The region in the country’s far west borders Pakistan, Afghanistan and Central Asian countries and is home to the Uighurs, a Turkic group, and other Muslim ethnic minorities.

2 Former detainees say facilities are sometimes overcrowded and unsanitary, with food that can be poor quality and withheld as punishment. The provision of 21 yuan is about $3.

3 The “Three Forces” refers to terrorism, separatism and religious extremism. The government’s definition of extremism often includes behavior that would be considered ordinary elsewhere, such as growing a beard or praying five times a day.

See Document

______

We have recruited the very best teachers so that your family member will be able to escape from the poison of religious extremism. The teachers will give them free instruction in the Chinese language, the law, national policies and job skills. 4That way, after they graduate, they won’t do anything harmful to themselves or others, and they will have learned skills that improve their job prospects. Currently, we are bringing in business and investment and attracting companies, and they will need many skilled workers. In the future, they will be able to find work in these enterprises and lift the family’s income and improve living conditions.5

3. My relative watched only one terrorist video, or participated in one illegal sermon. They have already recognized their mistake. Is it all right if they don’t study?

It is to their credit that they have been able to see the error of their ways and done some quick soul-searching. But never underestimate how mistaken one’s thinking has become. Because they will never be able to thoroughly unmask and understand the reactionary nature of religious extremism unless they undergo an extended period of standardized study and training that is comprehensive, systematic and behind closed doors,6 with correct instruction and guidance from teachers. Otherwise, they will never be able to thoroughly eradicate this stubborn cancer in their thinking and could easily again be swindled and exploited by criminal organizations and the Three Forces to break the law and flout the rules. Then they will fall into an abyss of criminality that would ruin your fine, happy family. Treasure this chance for free education that the party and the government has provided to thoroughly eradicate erroneous thinking, and also learn Chinese and job skills. This offers a great foundation for a happy life for your family.

Let me give you an example: A lot of people think that catching a cold is a little problem that doesn’t need treatment or attention. There is this happy-go-lucky mind-set that it’s no big deal. But actually, if a little cold doesn’t get attention and treatment is put off, this little illness could

______

Q. and A., page 2

4 Language is a source of discontent in Xinjiang, where the government has emphasized the teaching of Mandarin over the native languages of the minority groups. Former detainees say these camps have a heavily regimented routine in which they must repeatedly renounce Islamic beliefs and pledge their loyalty to the Communist Party.

5 The camps have been described as a way to provide job training, but many detainees had careers as scholars, civil servants and entertainers.

6 Former detainees have described facing round-the-clock surveillance and the constant threat of abuse.

See Document

______

turn into a serious one, and it could prompt an even more serious illness, or even become life-threatening.

After you become infected by religious extremism and terrorist ideas, unless you quickly receive “transformation through education,” it will be very difficult to ensure that there won’t be a recurring impact that leaves you open to being incited and bewitched. Your thoughts can be restored to health as quickly as possible only with systematic, enclosed “inpatient treatment” in our schools that thoroughly eradicates religious extremism and terrorist ideas.

4. Since it’s just training, why can’t they come home?

It seems that you’re still misunderstanding how concentrated education is run. Usually, you would return home for winter or summer vacation without any problem. But if you were careless and caught an infectious virus like SARS, you’d have to undergo enclosed, isolated treatment, because it’s an infectious illness. If you weren’t thoroughly cured, as soon as you returned home you would infect your family with this virus, and your whole family would fall ill.7 The party and government would not be so irresponsible that they would let a member of your family go home before their illness was cured and thinking thoroughly transformed, a situation in which they would do harm to others. I don’t think that you would talk lightly about coming home either. Besides, it is a school after all, and each school has its own strict management. Just like you would not impetuously show up late or skip class or take a break at your school. If everyone did that, running a school would be a mess, and that would also deprive you of many opportunities to acquire knowledge.

5. Did they commit a crime? Will they be convicted?

They haven’t committed a crime and won’t be convicted.8 It is just that their thinking has been infected by unhealthy thoughts, and if they don’t quickly receive education and correction, they’ll become a major active threat to society and to your family. It’s very hard to totally eradicate viruses in thinking in just a short time. It needs to be dealt with like detox for drug addicts.

______

Q. and A., page 3

7 Party propaganda routinely uses the language of disease to refer to the perceived threat of religious extremism. Scholars and rights groups have said such language serves to justify mass detentions and dehumanizes the people being targeted.

8 Detention in the camps can lead to imprisonment, and the region has seen a surge in arrests, trials and prison sentences over the past two years, according to official data.

______

They must receive treatment in a detox center for some time before the scourge of addiction is totally beaten. Currently, only actively undergoing education and training can thoroughly eradicate this “malignant tumor” in their thinking, and only with healthy thinking can you have a happy family. I’m sure that you will support them, because this is for their own good and also for your own good. Freedom is only possible when this “virus” in their thinking is eradicated and they are in good health.

6. When can my family member graduate and leave school?

Anyone who understands Chinese medicine knows that treatment has a cycle. While they’re in concentrated, enclosed education and training, they are mainly studying the standard national language, laws and rules, and jobs skills. Based on the school’s “dual direction” assessment standards, they must be diligent in their studies, abide by the school rules and do outstandingly in morning exercises, chores, dining, study and so on. And family members, including you, must abide by the state’s laws and rules, and not believe or spread rumors, and take an active part in collective life. Only then can you add points for your family member, and after a period of assessment they can leave the school if they meet course completion standards. It’s just like you can only graduate if you pass all your classes at school.

7. Are my family members bad people? After they get out, will they be discriminated against and be treated differently?

If they don’t undergo study in a school, if your family member isn’t fully awakened, it’s entirely possible that they will become wrongdoers (criminals). The goal of placing them in study is to rule out this risk or reduce it to the absolute minimum, and enable them to also master one or two job skills. After they complete their studies, they can be just like you when you graduate from university by becoming a valued member of society who understands the Chinese language and understands the law and abides by it. If your family member doesn’t have a job and they are willing to work, they can find a satisfying job in one of the businesses that we’ve brought in or established. They can realize their desire for a steady job there or open their own business, making wages of 3,000 to 5,000 renminbi a month. So we must take a long-term perspective. Your family member may be misunderstood for now, but look at this in terms of development and change. In the future, they’re sure to win the respect of society, neighbors and friends.

______

Q. and A., page 4

9 Former detainees have described point systems based on their performance and behavior that can affect when they are released. This passage also appears to outline a system of points for family members outside the camps that treats complaints or dissent as grounds for extending a relative’s detention.

________

8. Can my family members ask for leave to visit me?

This is strict, regulated and concentrated training behind closed doors. It’s just like when you did military training on entering high school or university. There is a very heavy emphasis on discipline. In general, leave won’t be granted while they’re in training and study. If you want to see your family member, we can arrange for you to see them through video.

9. Can public servants vouch for them so they can get out?

The school gives each student a dual-focus evaluation and a daily specialized assessment. The assessment covers every aspect of life and study, as well as the behavior of family members, including you. If their daily performance is outstanding, after a period of hard work and after they have finished their assigned classes and have mastered a certain level of conversational ability in the standard national language and have acquired one or two job skills, they can submit an application vouching for them, and the school will carry out an assessment and evaluation. If they meet the right conditions, the school will process their departure.

10. My family members are all in study, we have 10 mu of land, but there’s nobody to plant it; if I don’t have money for school, what will I do?

The party and government will do everything possible to ease your hardships. Your family member is undergoing instruction and training in a school, and they don’t have to pay for their language study or job training. The government also covers their food, clothing, housing, water, electricity and even medical care.

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Q. and A., page 5

10 That is about $425 to $715 a month. Some exiles and researchers have said people from internment camps have been forced to work in factories with pay as low as $95 a month or even nothing at all.

11 The national language is Mandarin.

12 The detention program has caused widespread financial hardship among families who have lost breadwinners and businesses that have lost owners and employees. The campaign has even met internal resistance from some officials who were concerned that such sweeping internments would stall economic development. (The question refers to 10 mu, which is about 1.6 acres.)

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Village officials and the “visit-assist-unite” (fang-hui-ju) work team will also do all they can to help deal with family farming. Also, you don’t have to worry about your own tuition fees; the government will help you deal with that. As long as your situation is as described, we will help handle your tuition costs. At the same time, you can apply for a poverty allowance or a study loan at your school. It will never be that you won’t be able to afford tuition and your education held back because your family member is doing concentrated education and training.

11. My family has a lot of things to deal with and their length of time in re-education is a bit long. Is there any way their study period could be shortened?

If you’re worried that nobody is around to take care of your family and so won’t accept the training, that’s being irresponsible to your family and to society. Your family member’s thinking has been infected with a “virus,” and they definitely need swift “residential treatment” before illness breaks out and before they head down the road of criminality. One day sooner in eradicating this “malignant tumor” in their thinking means one day sooner that they may return to their family and society. Don’t ever take a happy-go-lucky attitude or become phobic about treating diseases and skip this optimum time for treatment. That’s how a small illness becomes a serious one, and could even reach the point where it becomes incurable. That would bring incalculable harm to society and to your family. By then, it would be too late for any regrets.

12. My family member is old, they would not do any harm to anyone, so is there any way they could be let out?

If they don’t undergo study and training, they’ll never thoroughly and fully understand the dangers of religious extremism, and then they will never thoroughly grasp that spreading extremist religious ideas and taking part in illegal religious activities are criminal acts. They will never grasp that they are on the road of no return, never grasp that they are becoming a public enemy, wrecking national and ethnic unity and endangering society. Participating in study and education is not just the right of every citizen, it also their duty. No matter what age, anyone who has been infected by religious extremism must undergo study. Only after they come to their senses will they stop spreading dangerous ideas to neighbors and friends who don’t understand the truth and can’t tell right from wrong. For instance, the poison of religious extremism is being deeply felt in Iraq, Syria and other Middle Eastern countries. The areas where Islamic State extremist forces have spread are in ruins and their people have fled, losing everything and suffering unspeakable hardship along with countless casualties. I’m sure that you and your family wouldn’t like to live in a country like that. Each of us makes our own small contribution to maintaining social stability and defending our home.

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Q. and A., page 6

13 The “visit-assist-unite” program involves teams of officials visiting Uighur and other minority families to gather personal information, including religious and ideological views.

14 Former inmates and human rights groups have reported that people as old as in their 80s are held in camps.

13. You gave my relatives passports and let them travel, and on television it said it was all right to travel abroad, but when they returned, they were taken away.

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Our national citizens can lawfully obtain passports and have the appropriate right to legitimate travel abroad. The party and government have always supported and encouraged this. But you have to clearly understand that the struggle against separatism in Xinjiang is grim, and hostile forces and elements abroad have not relaxed for one moment in subversion and sabotage in Xinjiang. They don’t like seeing how stable and unified our social conditions are, and don’t like to see our great picture of rapid economic and social development with the people living and working in peace and contentment. Whenever any of us visits a sensitive country, they will do their utmost to hoodwink and recruit them, try to fill them with religious extremism and brainwash them into becoming turncoats, pawns for subverting our government, pieces moved around at the behest of others. This must be taken very seriously by every citizen, because it concerns the lives and safety of our families and the stability of our society. Because they have visited countries where religious extremism is very serious and they may have come under its influence, the dangers are immense as soon as the buds of religious extremism appear. That’s why it’s really necessary to put them through legal-system education and patriotic education after they return.

Q. and A., page 7

15 Some detainees were targeted after they traveled to some two dozen countries, almost all Muslim majority, deemed sensitive by the authorities, including Turkey, Kazakhstan and Saudi Arabia. Such a policy was a sharp reversal from previous decades, when the authorities increasingly allowed Xinjiang residents to travel abroad.

Turpan City’s “Three Immediates, Five-Step Work Method” for Effectively Strengthening the Education and Supervision of Returning Students Whose Relatives Are Being Punished

Turpan City is seriously implementing the spirit of the autonomous region party committee’s “Announcement Concerning Doing a Good Job of Ideological Education and Management Service Work for Middle School, High School, University and Technical School Students Returning Home on Summer Break Period and Whose Family Members Are Being Punished During the ‘Strike Hard’ Campaign.” Persevere in getting things done right away, immediately organize special subject meetings, promptly implement emergency deployment plans for the educational management of students returning home in the summer whose family members are being punished,16 inseparably unite practice, draw up and give instructions to subordinates on special item work plans, amply display the important function of township (town, farm, street), village (community), former school and police station, “three departments as one,” be at the front of every work item, conscientiously report as soon as possible, discuss as soon as possible, resolve family difficulties as soon as possible, completely implement the “Five-Step Work Method,” fulfill the education of returning students whose family members are being punished, seamlessly link up stability control, ensure thought stability, prevent the emergence of no support, no understanding, contradiction, conflict and similar situations.

I. Support the “Three Immediates”

Immediately report: Returning students from other parts of China have widespread social ties across the entire country. The moment they issue incorrect opinions on WeChat, Weibo and other social media platforms, the impact is widespread and difficult to eradicate. Students must undergo ideological re-education so that soon after they return, they understand the true significance of why their family members are undergoing concentrated education and the problem of infection on arrival is dealt with, the students’ thinking must be undergoing reeducation. Plainclothes police, village and neighborhood officials and family members must meet them as soon as they arrive, to show humane concern and stress the rules.17

Immediate discussion: As soon as students return home, carry out direct thought guidance,remove doubt or misunderstandings. Avoid having officials with low-level understanding of correct principles leave students unclear during their first heart-to-heart guidance. Ensure that the first talk is given by a leading official of the township (town, farm, street), the head of the class at their former school, or the chief of the local police station who has previously been familiarized with policies and the returning student’s fundamental situation; jointly list a discussion outline; and personally give heart-to-heart guidance.

Immediately solve family difficulties: Respond to students whose fathers or mothers are undergoing concentrated education and training and who have adjustment problems when they first return home and face a serious possibility of experiencing turmoil after seeing the range of work and hardship in their families.18 Their paired poverty eradication partners must visit the home soon after arrival to understand the practical hardships of students’ families and coordinate to solve them so that students feel the warmth of the party and government. This ensures that they are focused on participating in education and training, social practice and job internships.

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Directive

16 The document advises officials to inform students that their relatives are being treated for signs of extremism, but throughout its instructions to the officials it refers to the relatives as being punished.

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17 The crackdown in Xinjiang heightened the authorities’ concerns about returning students, whom the Communist Party saw as a key part of efforts to mold Muslim minorities into loyal subjects. This passage reveals fears that such students could spread criticism of the camps, and orders the police and school and local government officials to help monitor them.

See Document

II. Strictly Implement the “Five-Step Work Method”

Step 1: Fully assess the situation, set up a file and take the initiative to link up. For each township (town, farm, street), village (community), visit-assist-unite (fang-hui-ju) residents’ village work team, village (community) police service room, quickly carry out a concentrated assessment and inspection of students in the jurisdiction who are studying outside, check one after another, implement one after another, register one after another, take the initiative to link up, ensure preparation to grasp the students’ time of arrival and train number.

Step 2: Psychological guidance and thought inspection. The township (town, farm, street) Ministry of Justice office that will receive the students will first organize the main leaders of the township (town, farm, street), the police station chief and former school class teacher to wait at the Ministry of Justice office. They will prepare a discussion topic outline in advance, wait for the moment the student returns to enter discussions and exchange (see “Tactics from Turpan City for answering the questions asked by the children of concentrated education and training school students”), understand the students’ living situation, and do a good job of the “five things to explain clearly” work, and according to the students’ clothing, behavior, spiritual outlook and other external expressions, be sure to check the students’ mobile phones, MP3s, MP4s, USB drives, multimedia cards and computers and other mobile storage devices, as well as books, to accurately grasp the students’ ideological trends and make sure they have not become infected and are developing in a healthy manner.

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Directive, page 3

19 The document orders the authorities to investigate returning students and search their phones, computers and other devices. Local officials must meet with them daily and assess their thinking and behavior.

See Document

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Step 3: Report as soon as one returns to the village and pair up to assist. After students have had their first talk on ideological persuasion on return to their township (town, farm or street), village (community) officials and work team cadres must immediately visit their homes and make sure that “for each one who returns, a report is made and registration is filed.” At the same time, every student who has a family member being punished must be matched in a “trinity” with their officials from the village or neighborhood, former school and the police station to ensure they have daily meetings and conversations. Give them guidance, organize activities and promptly understand the returning students’ thoughts and how they are behaving in reality.19 For those students whose parents are both being punished and who do not have other immediate family or have immediate relatives who are unable to provide care, develop a special work program, a visit program or an aid program according to the living conditions of other relatives in the family, the family’s income and other conditions. And have the township’s (town, farm, street) party and political team members responsible for managing it as a whole set up an internship position such that each person is supported by one plan.

Step 4: Educational practice and quantitative assessment. Township (town, farm, street) party committees, based on the current stability maintenance trend, will promptly arrange training activities for returning students that focus heavily on “535”: (that is, “Five Classes”: security, job internship class, legal class, ethnic unity class and mobile internet security class; the “Xinjiang Three Histories,” which includes ethnic history, religious history, Xinjiang history; as well as the “Five Identifications”: identifying with the motherland, the Chinese nation, Chinese culture, the Communist Party and socialism with Chinese characteristics.) They should adopt “point on point,” “one to one,” “many to one” and other methods, and patiently and carefully carry out the party’s policies on education and psychological guidance with returned students, provide them with employment and entrepreneurship positions, organize and develop volunteers and “ethnic unity family” cultural performances, visit their hometowns to observe the development and other activities, to let these students really feel the party and the government’s concern, so that they are not bearing an ideological burden, cherish their rare educational opportunity, and work at growing and become successful. Place returning students with family members being punished in concentrated education and training under “dual administration” and “dual assessment” with quantified assessment points administration. Assign quantified points every day to returning students’ words and actions, attendance in training, social practice, job internships, video meetings and other developments. At the same time, allow more frequent video meetings with family members while the students are on summer vacation, and tell the parents promptly how the students are doing at home, at internships; set up bridges linking the students with their parents to ensure that the individuals who are being punished are able to receive their education in peace while the returning students’ minds can be stable.

Step 5: Analysis and judgment and seamless connection. The person in charge at the township (town, farm, street) should compare the implementation of the “Three Immediates” and the “Five-Step Work Method” and seriously fill in the “Assessment and Control Files for the Returning Children of the Students of Concentrated Education and Training in Turpan City.” Hold daily seminars to comprehensively assess the returning students’ real-life performance and research solutions to existing problems and control measures. At the same time, carry out well the work of sending the student back to school by seeing them off at stations. The supporting cadres should take the initiative to connect with the head teacher who is receiving the student and inform the teacher of the student’s thoughts and actions to realize a seamless connection. After the students’ vacation is over and they return to school, every township (town, farm, street) should place the “Assessment and Control Files for the Returning Children of the Students of Concentrated Education and Training in Turpan City” under sealed management, make copies for the office of returning students’ management, the public security stations, and the concentrated education and training schools, for these files to be used as education and supervision reference material the next time the students return home.

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Directive, page 4

20 The document orders officials to keep detailed files on each student, copies of which are sent to the police, the indoctrination camps and other offices.

See Document

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To omit any identifying markings, these documents have been retyped to resemble the originals.

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