Disclaimer: I don't own She-Ra!

Title: Deluge

Summary: Frosta knows death. She knows the stiffness, the cold, the long funeral procession. She knows what it's like to watch her people chip away at a frozen lake and lower their caskets into the sloshy waves. The lake never fully melts. Everyone in Frosta's line goes there, someday- giving back to the cold that gave to them.

Frosta's scared to swim.

...

Frosta knows death. She knows the stiffness, the cold, the long funeral procession. She knows what it's like to watch her people chip away at a frozen lake and lower their caskets into the sloshy waves. The lake never fully melts. Everyone in Frosta's line goes there, someday- giving back to the cold that gave to them.

Frosta's scared to swim.

It's a different kind of silence as they sit on an uncomfortable stone bench, but it feels related. A cousin to it, perhaps. Bow fiddles with his little pad thing that normally she adores watching, loves the weird little lines and beeps, but tonight it's too bright. Sea Hawk is still on one side of Frosta, but that's only because Perfuma cried herself to sleep on his shoulder. Glimmer's on the other side, staring blankly at the wall. Adora's pacing, the heavy boots of She-Ra making an obnoxiously loud thud-thud-thud as she moves.

Glimmer starts to shiver, and Frosta, hoping to help, unshucks her top layer of furs and drapes them across her back. She's older than the ice Princess, but not much bigger, so they fit almost perfectly. The Commander starts to cry.

"I'm sorry," Frosta says. Whispers, really. She hadn't meant to make Glimmer feel sad.

"You should get some sleep," Sea Hawk told her, gently ruffling her hair. He didn't sound nearly as exuberant as he usually was. "It's gonna be a long night, but things'll be okay. Mermista will be fine."

"She'll be fine," Adora echoed, still pacing. "Until we have to go retake that bridge. What then? We need her water abilities."

Glimmer pulled Frosta's furs close and tried to sound put together. It worked, until her voice hitched midway through. "Let Catra have it for now. I'm sure she'll hate every second she has to guard it."

Frosta slid down in her seat, ignoring the pain it caused her rear. She didn't want to talk about strategy, or fighting. She wanted Mermista to be okay. She wanted to go home. She wanted to get the whistle of retreat out of her mind.

(She almost kept going. What if they'd followed her instead of doubling-back? What would've happened to Mermista then?)

She tightened her grip on her forearm and waited. It hurt, and it'd bleed through for sure, but Frosta couldn't imagine bringing it up now. They had enough to worry about as is.

Author's Note: Not really my best work, but I wanted to write some Frosta, so I did lol. I've got some ideas for a Bow-Entrapta thing, as well as a George and Lance meet Bow's weird friends 'fic. Season two gave me a lot to work with is what I'm saying kslslokcs

-Mandaree1