AN: I own nothing.
It was the middle of the night at Castle Brightmoon, center of the kingdom with which it shared a name, and outside, all was peaceful. Insects chirped as they flew about the air, amphibians croaked nearby ponds and streams, waiting to catch said insects for their late supper. Small mammals scurried through the surrounding forests, picking ripe fruit from the branches of magnificent trees. However, inside the elegantly crafted seat of power, all was awake, alert, and in a panic. A few hours ago, an unwanted guest had invaded the living quarters of the castle and was now being held in a specially prepared holding cell to await interrogation.
It was for this purpose that Queen Angella II, along with her sister-in-law, Head Sorceress Castaspella of Mystacor, made their way through the halls of the mighty fortress. As they walked, the queen finished giving her orders to the captain of the guard on increased security.
"Double the perimeter guard and triple it at the Moonstone. Nobody sleeps until we figure out how Shadow Weaver got into the castle."
Understanding her orders, the captain bowed and left to perform the assigned tasks. Not two seconds later, Angella stopped in front of a spare guestroom, much to the Mystacorian's confusion.
"Why are we stopping here?"
"This is where we're holding the prisoner."
"This… is your prison?" Castaspella asked in disbelief.
"Well, technically it's the spare room," Angella admitted, "but it is more than adequate as a holding cell. We removed the cushions."
The sorceress blinked in response, clearly having expected more from the leader of the Rebellion.
"Most of the cushions."
"This is the prison?" Came the equally disappointed voice of the queen's ward, Adora, as she approached with Angella's daughter and Castaspella's niece, Glimmer, and Bow Alexandria, Brightmoon's tech master.
"Yes, it's the prison!"
Adora inwardly flinched from the monarch's exasperated tone, knowing this would not help the case she was about to make.
"Your majesty, I know Shadow Weaver, I know her tricks." the young warrior explained, "I need to be there for the interrogation, I'm the only one who can-"
"Shadow Weaver is dangerous," Angella interrupted, "I will not let that woman near you, near any of you. You are to stay away from this room."
"But your majesty,"
"That is final."
Adora looked down dejectedly, knowing the queen wouldn't budge from this stance. Without another word, Angella and Castaspella entered the 'prison', locking the door behind them as a guard took her place in front of it, standing watch.
The blonde groaned, "I need to get in there! Shadow Weaver could've gone anywhere, but she came here. I need to know why. If the queen would just listen to me…"
"Adora," Glimmer consoled, "Maybe this is for the best. Shadow Weaver raised you, she knows how to get in your head! We can't risk her manipulating you."
"That won't happen!"
Adora began to think, how could she get in to see her former mentor? Then, she had it, the perfect plan! Breaking into a theatrical yawn, Adora innocently smiled at her friends.
"Fine, I guess we should all just, head back to bed, get some sleep, heh. Let the obviously unqualified Brightmoon guards handle this!"
The genuinely yawning 'warden' looked at the terrible actor with annoyance. Obviously, she wasn't the only one who hadn't bought the cheap bait.
"You're going to try to sneak in, aren't you?" Bow asked skeptically.
"What, no!"
With a nervous laugh, Adora began to walk away as her friends looked at each other with suspicion, only to immediately turn back and bolt for the door.
"No!" scolded Glimmer, grabbing the troublesome warrior and teleporting them to elsewhere in the palace.
Bow rolled his eyes and set off to find the two women. This was going to be a long night.
Aside from the odd disheveled rodent scurrying across the cold floor in search of crumbs, the cellars of Brightmoon were lifeless. Nothing was to be found here amongst the dim lighting except food stores and Snowland whiskey, which itself was only of interest to the guards and occasionally, Princess Glimmer herself. Then, against all possibility, the silence was broken by a loud groaning noise as a large blue box faded into existence between the stacks of crates, scattering the present vermin towards the darkest corners of the alcoves. The groaning stopped with a resounding thump, and the now solid Tardis sat amongst the Salinean wine as if it had always been there. After a moment, the door at the front opened and out stepped the Doctor, a bit shaken up after the recent turbulence but none the worse for wear.
"Woo! Now that's what I call wake up call!" He laughed, grinning like a madman. "Nothing like a crisis to get the blood pumping! Now, where did you bring me this time old girl?"
A quick glance at the bottles, cans, and assorted vegetables brought an easy summary as to the kind of room he was in, alongside an appreciation for the Tardis to park inconspicuously. As he strolled through the maze of boxes and foodstuffs, an open crate caught his attention and he picked up one of the bottles it contained.
"Plumerian Ale?" The Time Lord read off the label, confused.
He had lived for centuries, been all over the universe, and never had he heard of a Plumerian before. That turbulence he experienced, that feeling, it couldn't have been, could it? The Doctor examined more labels, encountering more unfamiliar names, the pit of his stomach filling more and more with dread.
"It came from down here!" A loud voice echoed across the room, armoured footsteps marching down the stairs and snapping the Doctor back to the present.
"Come on Mike, why would Horde soldiers be in the cellars? What are they gonna do, conquer vegetables?" This voice, with the tell-tale signs of exasperation, complained to her companion as the Time Lord dived behind a stack of crates, not wanting to reveal himself just yet.
"Don't give me that Suz, I know what I heard! A large groaning sound, like machinery. Maybe that's how Shadow Weaver got in here!"
From his hiding place, the Doctor could see the elegantly dressed individuals approach as Suz, he assumed it was, exhaled in frustration. "Do you see any large machines here?"
"…No." Admitted Mike, while their secret observer correctly guessed these two were guards of this mansion/palace/castle.
"Do you see any holes in the walls, any tunnels?"
"…No."
"Well then, that can only mean one thing. Your hearing's off!"
"But I heard something!"
"Mike, you've been up since sundown. Don't you think maybe, just maybe, you're fatigued?"
The Doctor couldn't help rolling his eyes as the guards started to bicker like children, there was always at least one pair in a place that could afford such room. He didn't know why, but whenever rich people hired others to protect their estate, the Odd Couple always seemed to make an appearance.
"You can leave if you want, but I'm searching this place from top to bottom!" Mike stated, finally at wits end.
Suz growled in frustration. "That's the way you want to be, fine! But I'm betting you fifty gold that there's no one here!" Stomping over to a stack of crates, the angry guard shifted them to one side and glared back at her beat partner. "See?!"
Mike just stared, unsure weather to grin in smug satisfaction or to level his lance.
"What?"
The Doctor cleared his throat, getting Suz's attention and smiled in embarrassment. "Sorry, but um, I think you owe your friend fifty gold."
The Horde Empire was never considered much of a happy place, if at all. Usually, its citizens worked and lived as the cogs in some great engine, and nowhere looked the part more than the capital province, the Fright Zone. Ugly, misshapen towers pierced the clouds, themselves long since turned green with pollutants. Robotic drones flew across the mechanized landscape, making repairs and covering more volcanic land with cold, warped steel. Within this imposing environment, Commander Catra Felonius, right hand woman to Lord Hordak himself, woke up in a panic.
Last thing she remembered, the air was becoming poison to her lungs, she passed out and now, this place. Catra's eyes widened in realization as she noticed the manacles on her wrists, and a look up filled her with horror at the sight of the scratch marks in her cell. She remembered it all now, Hordak had discovered her failure with Shadow Weaver, she tried to bluff him, and now the former right hand was reduced to just another prisoner. Just to rub salt in the wound, Catra had been placed in the witch's former cage. Whatever she thought of the Empire's leader, the commander had to admit he knew how to send a message.
"Catra! Catra!"
The feline gasped in surprise as a great, big scorpion woman skidded to a halt in front of the cell's energy barrier, a look of relief plastered across her kind face.
"Catra! I found you!"
"S-Scorpia?" Catra stuttered, confused by the sudden appearance of the force captain. "How'd you get in here?"
"Oh boy," Scorpia smirked mischievously, thinking of the guard that was okay probably. "It was quite the heist, really high-level dangerous stuff. Now, come on, I'm busting you out! We don't have a lot of time before-"
"Before what?" The commander asked, exhausted defeat lacing her voice.
Scorpia winced at the tone and sighed, "Hordak, he's, he's called an assembly to witness your punishment, but I'm sure it's probably nothing." Noticing the resigned look of her captive friend, the force captain continued resolutely, "Whatever it is, I'm not gonna let it happen! I'm gonna get you out of here!"
As her would be rescuer struggled with the energy barrier's controls, Catra felt her resignation morph into frustration. Didn't that scorpion thing understand yet, how pointless it all was?
"Stop it!" She snapped, the despair finally boiling over. "I never stood a chance. I did everything right, I thought I could prove myself, but it doesn't matter what I do. I don't. Get. To win!" As Catra spoke, the young woman realized something else, something which stung the most deeply. "Shadow Weaver was right."
"She's not right! Don't give up yet, I can save you!"
"You really care, don't you?"
"Of course, I care! You're Catra! You're our leader! You're…, you're my friend. You're everything to me."
Catra stood up and approached the barrier, smiling at Scorpia like an adult would a naïve child, then laughed in mockery.
"Caring about people is what got me into this mess! Get out of here, or they'll take you down with me."
Scorpia couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What?"
"Are you stupid?! I said leave!"
The force captain recoiled from words as if struck.
"Guards!"
Knowing there was nothing more she could do, Scorpia took one last look at the defeated commander, then ran for an exit before she got caught and imprisoned herself. Granted, as Princess of the Fright Zone and the last child of House Volcanoc, she was legally Hordak's heir, so there wasn't much they could do to her. Still, temporary confinement would be highly inconvenient for the near future, and the force captain couldn't have that. Catra might be willing to give up, but quitting just wasn't in Scorpia's nature, and she would find a way to get her friend's liberty back. If only she knew how.
Meanwhile, Catra sat despondent in the cell, stewing over her misery. It just wasn't fair, Adora got everything, even after leaving the Horde! As for herself, a loyal soldier to the Empire, all that came in the end was a prison cell. Maybe, some people are just born lucky, while everyone else just gambles with the powers that be. Nothing left to do but sit here and wait for execution, after all, that's most likely what the punishment is, right?
Unknown to either commander or force captain, a lieutenant had watched the whole exchange from the security feeds. He smiled in satisfaction, deciding that this kitty would do quite nicely indeed.
As the dawn lazily rose over the spires of Brightmoon, a slender figure was silhouetted against one such tower, climbing down from a golden rope tied to the roof. How exactly this could be achieved was anybody's guess, but when said achiever was She-Ra herself, impossible feats were to be expected. To Adora, the one doing the climbing, this wasn't so much a remarkable skill of endurance, more of a necessary tactic brought about by failed opportunities. All night she tried to get into Shadow Weaver's "cell", and each time, when she was right outside the door or window, was caught by Glimmer, teleported back to her room, and had to wait for her and Bow to fall asleep to try again. By now Adora was exhausted herself, and if the Horde taught her one thing, it was that a soldier was useless without proper rest, so this would probably be the last attempt she could muster before collapse.
So, it was understandable that when she passed by an open window on her way down and heard someone clearing their throat, the brave warrior jumped in surprise and nearly lost her footing.
"Oh dear, please excuse me my lady, I'm very sorry to have startled you." A kind voice chuckled.
Adora groaned at having been caught again, and too tired to fight back, simply swung into the hallway and landed on the floor with a painful thud. "Good morning, Minister Norman, how are you?"
"Very well thank you, the sleep was long, and the dreams were sweet. Forgive my saying so, but you don't seem to have gotten much of either. Is something troubling you, my lady?"
As the minister helped her up, Adora felt grateful for the presence of the civil servant. He had been here since Glimmer was born, and to her knowledge, was a beloved confidant to everyone in the castle. Usually, she would be wary of handing out trust to strangers, but in her first month at Brightmoon, Norman just felt like someone that could understand and empathize, a far cry from the Fright Zone.
"I guess you heard the news?"
"That we have a witch in the palace, how could I not? Everyone from cooks to captains are talking about it and making vows to stay far away from her cell, lest they get turned into a newt."
Adora snickered at that oddly specific example. "A newt?"
"They could get better." Norman smirked with a shrug.
"Well, I don't think Shadow Weaver knows how to do that. But she did raise me, and everyone thinks that means I'm vulnerable to her manipulations! But I've learned, I've grown, I won't make the same mistakes again! I could help getting information out of her but," Sighing, the blonde woman confessed, "it still seems like no one trusts me."
Norman put comforting hands on her shoulders, and spoke firmly, "Look into my eyes. Trust is a hard thing to earn, and an even easier thing to lose. I've been the Minister of Coin for years, and there's still people out in the country who don't trust me, which considering I'm the tax collector, is to be expected. But that doesn't matter. What matters is being worthy of trust in the first place, and if some still don't trust you after that, it's their problem, not yours. You have proven time and again that the people of Brightmoon can trust you, and I know that most of them do exactly that. So don't worry about trust, that's one thing you've earned and earned well."
Adora smiled, feeling reassured on half of her problem. "Thanks, Minister Norman."
Bowing, the greying man returned the expression. "As always, the pleasure was mine, my lady."
It was at that moment Glimmer teleported beside them and growled, "Adora…"
Grabbing her friend, the princess sparkled them back to her room, once more waking up a peacefully sleeping Bow in the process.
"Look, I told you, I just need to talk to her!" Adora explained, her vigour renewed.
Glimmer groaned in frustration. "Adora! Shadow Weaver will try to hurt you again!"
"You don't know that!"
"Yes, I do! She's from the Horde! She's evil! Evil people don't change."
"I'm from the Horde, I changed!"
"That's different!" Bow cut in. "You're not like them! You're good, and kind, and-"
"And She-Ra?" Adora asked skeptically, then noticed her hand was empty.
Awkwardly, she felt about her person, trying to find the weapon that gave her the title, with no success.
Adora's face fell in panic. "Oh no."
"What?"
"The Sword's gone!"
AN: I have no co-author, but MorriganByrne has offered to be my Beta-Reader, despite neither of us knowing what that entails. Thank you to those who tried to apply for the co-author position, but as of this moment, the position is considered closed.