Chapter Twenty-One

A week passed. For the Eternians, it was the most peaceful week they'd had in two years. Skeletor had yet to make any of his usual, unwelcome appearances. No one was fooled into thinking that the villain had actually abandoned his plans for world domination, but at least he was on a temporary hiatus.

The lives of the Royal Family slowly approached something akin to normalcy. Queen Marlena began to attend meetings with her husband. The Royal Council eagerly welcomed her back, a courtesy she discovered they had not extended to her daughter. It saddened her; but like King Randor, she understood their hesitation. She, too, realized that naught but time would ease the minds of the doubtful.

Many people were introduced to Marlena. She finally met the infamous Cringer, a creature that certainly lived up to his moniker. He seemed to like her, though, a sentiment that had no doubt been influenced by Adam. She also met Orko, a floating magician who had been visiting a relative on his home planet when Adora and Marlena first arrived. He performed a trick involving an entire tray of pastries, most of which ended up on Duncan when the spell backfired. Marlena surmised from Duncan's long-suffering expression that such mishaps were not unusual.

An afternoon came when no meetings had been scheduled, and court was not being held. Adam and Teela spent the time showing Adora the Evergreen Forest, while Marlena took the opportunity to wander the palace. She eventually found herself standing before the entrance of the Royal Museum. Her old spaceship gleamed temptingly in the light, causing her eyes to burn with sudden tears. She nodded to the guards, then stepped past them and into the large room, making sure that the door slid closed behind her.

Randor found her there an hour later, sobbing into the side of the spacecraft. His heart broke to see his wife pouring out her sorrow to cold, uncaring metal. He knew she was deeply ashamed of her tears, which she perceived as an unforgivable weakness.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." She had lamented just yesterday, when a chance meeting with the midwife who had helped deliver the twins caused her to tear up for the third time in two hours. "I've cried more this week than I have in the last eighteen years."

Randor strongly suspected that the previous lack of tears might be part of the problem. As he walked briskly forward and pulled her into his arms, he thought about how different Marlena and Adora's experiences with the Horde had been. He knew his daughter had suffered. Raised to believe that her parents were dead; placed under a spell and tricked into serving the very creature who had abducted her; almost dying at one point because of neglect and ignorance. He knew that Adora wept sometimes for the life she had been denied, and that both she and Marlena were struggling to adapt to their new lives.

Yet Randor also had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that Adora had been treated relatively well by Hordak. She had never been beaten or starved, nor had she even known that such atrocities were happening all around her. Marlena, however, had been made well aware of Hordak's cruel nature. She was beaten and starved, and not just by Hordak. Randor, who was not by nature a violent person, had fantasies of killing the man called Bridden, and often had to remind himself that Marlena had already done it for him.

"I did not intend to kill him," she had confessed when telling Randor about her life as a Horde prisoner, "But I'm not sorry that I did."

Randor did not think that one of the abductees had suffered more than the other, for both had endured so much. He supposed that it came down to this: Adora had never been aware that there was anything amiss with her life, or that she should have been leading another one, until she broke free of the Horde. Marlena, meanwhile, had known all along that their lives could have been- and should have been- so very different.

His wife started to pull away just then, drawing Randor's attention back to the present. "I'm sorry," she whispered, beginning to dry her eyes on her sleeves, "I did not mean to…"

"It's fine," he gently interrupted, "There's no need to apologize."

"I just can't stop crying."

"You will." He raised her hands to his face and kissed her wrists, savoring the sensation of her pulse beating against his lips. "As time goes on, you'll begin to heal. We all will."

"Heal," she repeated wistfully. Such a beautiful word that was, yet such an elusive concept. It was hard to believe that there might come a day when she was not plagued by nightmares of the past. She thought about the years that stretched out before them, a future filled with promise and possibility. She imagined Adam and Adora marrying, starting families of their own; grandchildren running through the palace, their youthful merriment ringing in the corridors. She smiled at the thought of growing old with her husband, content in the knowledge of his companionship and love.

Marlena suddenly realized that, for the first time in almost two decades, she had a choice: mourn the years that had gone, or rejoice in the years to come. She could neither recover nor change the past, but she could certainly fill her future with the love of her family. Her smile widened. She laughed and, in a sudden burst of passion and joy, threw her arms around Randor's neck and kissed him soundly. Randor laughed with her, delighted at the change in her demeanor.

"We really are going to be okay, aren't we?"

"Of course we are, my love." Randor answered. He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, "Because we're all together now."

Adora stared down at her plate, where heaps of hot food waited to be consumed. Conversation flowed around her, but she could not even begin to concentrate on it. Her family did not appear to notice her silence, though she knew it was only a matter of time before they would. Adora forced herself to look up and at her family while they chattered animatedly. She narrowed her eyes and studied each of them in turn.

Her father was laughing at something, probably a comment from Adam. The light caught the jovial sparkle in his eyes. He was holding Marlena's hand above the table, stroking her fingers while he conversed with their son. For what was probably the first time in years, Randor looked truly happy and at peace with his world.

Her mother was leaning forward, smiling as she concentrated on her husband and son. Her hair was pinned on the top of her head. Her tiara sparkled brightly amongst the red tresses, and she wore this symbol of power as confidently as if it had always been there. She looked as if she was starting to gain back a little of the weight she had lost, and her skin no longer had the wan hue of someone who has never felt the warmth of the sun. Marlena's smile shone out from her beautiful face, and her laughter was that of a woman in love with life.

Her brother was punctuating whatever he was saying with wide, rapid hand gestures. Unlike his sister, Adam had already consumed much of his meal. Adora had never told Adam, but she had suspected that there was tension between her brother and father. Tonight, however, this conflict had disappeared. Adam's speech was confident, and Adora knew from past dinners that he was including their mother in the conversation as effortlessly as if Marlena had eaten every meal with him. Adam had never met a stranger- that was part of his charm.

Adora's stomach knotted. What was wrong with her? How could she even consider this? Surely there was another way! But bearing the Sword of Protection meant that there was only one way, one path for her to follow. She almost started to weep then, for she knew that what was undoubtedly the right course of action was also the one that would hurt her family the most.

"Adora?"

The princess had the feeling that Marlena had said her name several times already. She flushed guiltily.

"Yes, Mother?"

"You've been rather quiet this evening. Is something wrong?"

They were all smiling gently at her, their faces filled with love and concern. She sighed and squared her shoulders before answering.

"I was just thinking about the war on Etheria." Adora wanted to stop there, but Marlena was nodding encouragement, so she continued. "The rebels are full of such hope and optimism, but they are fighting a war they cannot win… without help."

"What kind of help?" Randor asked. It was clear from his tone that he was immediately eager to assist. "We are at war with Skeletor, and I don't know of too many soldiers who would be willing to fight on another world. But we can certainly send any supplies that might be needed."

"That is very kind, and I'm sure the rebels would be grateful for whatever assistance you can provide." Adora swallowed several times before continuing. "But I was thinking that… well… that I'd like to help them, too."

Adora looked at each of her family members. Randor looked confused, Adam looked like he might have an idea of what Adora was trying to say, and Marlena… Adora's throat closed up. Her mother's face had become as pale as in the days of her imprisonment, and she was shaking her head slowly from side to side.

Oh, Mother! Adora raised a hand to her aching throat. Please forgive me this betrayal! She stared into a corner of the room- looking at all of them, looking at none of them- and forced the words from her clenching throat.

"I am going back to Etheria."