Adora felt that it wasn't enough.

What she'd said churned in her gut. Had her bones feel like soup the more she ran it through the sieve that was her guilt.

And she'd said it while Catra had been shot.

Her tongue was like lead, slack and useless, as she made her way to the Mess Hall.

It was when she spied a hulking figure - leaned over a set of soups in front of disgruntled looking kitchen staff clutching ladles - that she made her choice.

"Ooh, the lentil looks really good today. Ah, gosh, but you can't go wrong with Rogelio's tomato, you know?"

"Umm," Adora cleared her throat.

"Hmm? Oh, hey!" The lady - Scorpia, Adora remembered - cheerfully greeted.

She didn't seem so imposing up close, especially with a smile so wide that on anyone else it would've appeared unhinged. Her stinger was actually swaying. Scratch that, it was wagging.

"Hi, I'm Adora. I mean, you probably knew that," she fidgeted. "I was wondering, you seem pretty close with Catra, right?"

"Oh, right. You're the She-ra lady, and-"

Scorpia's eyes narrowed and Adora took it back. Imposing it is.

"I'm Catra's best friend," Scorpia declared loudly. "And yeah, I know you. What do you want?"

Her energy remained infectious, even as the undercurrent of suspicion carried over like a blaring trumpet.

"It's just, um…it's been a couple days and I noticed I've never seen her eat here?"

Scorpia seemed to decide on the lentil, before swiveling to face Adora.

"She…sometimes skips meals," Scorpia sighed. "If she remembers to eat she might ask for something to take back to the office, but most of the time…"

She trailed off, an uneasy crease to her brows, a foggy look of indecision before she gave in.

"I know she's busy, but I wish she'd take care of herself better."

Adora steeled herself.

"Maybe I could bring her something? Do you know what she likes?"

"Why?" Again, the veneer of suspicion.

"I just…"

"The other day I saw her upset," Scorpia's tone was accusatory. "Coming from your room. And don't think I haven't noticed you eyeing her like she's something your shoe scuffed. Why do you care?"

"No, I didn't-" Adora stuttered.

She tugged at her collar, cheeks colored in splotches of shame.

It wasn't Scorpia's towering frame, the bulk of her arms folded together, or even her features pursed in a scowl. It was seeing that same hurt flashing in her eyes that Catra had bore, had worn like dusk brimming behind drawn curtains, that had Adora wilting in front of the lieutenant.

"Yeah," Adora admitted, averting her gaze. "You're right, I said some stuff I'm not proud of. That's why I'm hoping to make it up to her. To make things right, or at least try."

Scorpia appraised her. Foot tapping, eyes still narrowed, expression pinched like she couldn't make out something in the margins.

Finally, she sighed.

"Catra likes tuna sandwiches," she begrudgingly offered. "I'll get Rogelio to make some."

"Oh. Really? Th-Thank you!"

Scorpia jabbed a pincer just short of Adora's nose.

"I'm watching you. If this is some…ruse or something! I don't care what documentation you and Catra drew up, I am not above hauling you out of here myself."

"No, I promise!" Adora nodded vigorously, finding it wise not to mention her thoughts on how She-ra could lift Scorpia one handed.

She heard the door to the kitchen swing open as Scorpia ducked her head through, and began to wait.


It had been a long, sordid while since Catra's work was interrupted so repeatedly in so short a span of time. So when the knock came again, for the third time in just about as many days, she had a pretty good guess for who it was.

"Come in," she almost rolled her eyes.

"It's me. Um, Adora," Adora mumbled as she pushed the office door open with her shoulder.

"Yeah, I figured."

She pointedly eyed Adora's hands, which were laden with a tray of sandwiches, soup ensconced in a bowl, and a glass of orange juice with a bendy straw protruding towards her almost menacingly.

Catra's nose wrinkled.

"Tuna, huh? You talk to Scorpia?"

A faint blush dusted over the bridge of Adora's nose.

"She might have mentioned something."

"Well, then she might have also mentioned that I'm not to be disturbed while I'm in here unless it's urgent. Don't want more blondies shouting at me about my war crimes, you understand."

Perhaps, Catra thought when Adora flinched, this was a little harsh. It was possible she wasn't entirely over Adora's acidic condemnations from when she was in this office last.

"You've gotta eat, though," Adora pressed on. "I know you skip meals."

"Gee, mom, thanks for the tip." Catra snarked. "I'm not helpless. I'll eat when I eat."

"And when'll that be?" Adora frowned.

Catra twirled her pen, unimpressed. Claws rapped along manila folders as Adora held the tray somewhat limply by the fingertips.

"Catra, I know I wasn't fair to you. Let me at least show you that I mean it when I say I'm sorry. It's not like I've got much else going on around here, what with me being out of a job and everything."

"Poor Adora," Catra's tongue lingered on its curvature. "No longer the bright, shiny war hero amidst swooning citizens and dazzled members of the court."

"I was hardly that," Adora grumbled.

She set the tray firmly on her side of the desk.

"You had us running ragged. We were so pressed into a corner I was fighting for my life most of the time."

She pushed it towards Catra.

"Come on. Indulge me. You can say it was to make me feel better if that's what it takes."

Catra sighed.

She grabbed one of the sandwiches by its tip, examining how it had been cut into a perfect wedge.

"Since it'll get you off my back."

She bit into the crust, crumbles dotting her lap as she shifted away from her work.

"Fuck, Rogelio's outdone himself," she chewed.

Adora smiled.


"So blondie," it came out slurred by a mouth full of food. "You gonna jus' watch me eat?"

Adora grimaced, narrowly ducking flecks of lettuce.

"Oops," Catra swallowed. "My bad."

"Horde isn't big on manners, huh?"

"'Scuse us for having bigger things to worry about."

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Adora very pointedly handed her a napkin.

"Thanks. Anyway, you don't have to sit here and monitor me. I promise I'll lick my plate clean."

She fluttered her eyelashes in contempt.

Adora looked down at her hands, folded primly together.

"Oh. Um, sure. I guess I just…like I said, I don't have much to do around here."

"What, and what you came up with was hanging out with me while I'm buried neck deep in papercuts? That's sad. I'll probably die of blood loss in the next hour from having my major artery severed or something. Come on, you could go into town or…or I dunno, what did you do in your free time back in Brightmoon?"

Adora stared at her.

"Free time. Right. That. Sure, I had hobbies."

Catra raised her brow.

"Uh huh. That's really selling it. You're telling me there's nothing you like outside of being a general?"

"Look, being She-ra comes with a lot of duties! I had to commune with the Crystal Castle and restore what I could of the Whispering Woods and help plan relief efforts-"

"Ugh, spare me the diatribe. You've got the time now, so buzz off and find something to enjoy yourself."

"Well…I guess I do sort of miss riding Swift Wind around."

"Is that…the horse you came with? You named your horse Swift Wind?"

Adora felt her cheeks burn.

"Shut up. It's majestic."

Catra peered over the rim of her lentil soup with disdain.

"Is it too late to get a divorce?"

Affronted, Adora folded her arms together, her lips pursed.

"Whenever you're done being totally rude-"

Catra laughed.

"I can show you to the stables where we're keeping him so you can get out of my hair. Sorry if he's used to larger accommodations, we don't really travel by horse around here."

About to acquiesce, Adora paused.

She glanced around the room, taking her first proper look since her first visit. It was enormous, with hardwood flooring stretched on either side of them, dust-ridden but barren. The walls were blankly pale, chipped paint curling at their corners, the entire expanse of it starkly, impassively bare.

No furniture save the desk at which they sat, though there seemed to be faint outlines where layers of dust thinned, in the shape of paintings or baubles lined up where now there was empty space. There was the staccato of flickering lights overhead, the faint whir of it perpetual and seedy like ticks gnawing on skin.

She took in Catra's tiny frame, dwarfed by the vacuousness, swallowed by it, like she was so alone the ashen room – blanched and hollow and clutching at her from boots to ears – would devour her whole.

"You should ride with me," Adora blurted.

Catra blinked.

"Y'know," Adora's hands were gesticulating wildly, herself barely able to keep from spluttering. "Get out of here once in a while. Take a break."

"Uh, pass. Way too busy. Plus, I've never ridden a horse."

Adora's face pinched.

"How do you people get anywhere?"

"Vehicles. Tanks?" Catra replied incredulously. "Princess, you've literally seen them on the battlefield."

"You drive those into town and other places?"

"No!" Catra hissed, indignant. "Use your imagination. If we've got those, it stands to reason we've got plenty of other modes of similar transportation, just without the mounted turrets and such."

"Okay, whatever," Adora waved away. "I'll teach you. And you don't really need to know how to ride, you can hang on to me."

"Yeah, no. Pass."

Catra's deadpan was so dry Adora felt strands of her hair wilt.

"Come on. Thirty minutes tops."

Catra was already scribbling away, but not without the tiniest tug on the corner of her lips.

"Bye, Adora."

Adora huffed, but took the empty tray and made her way to the door.


As she allowed Swift Wind to munch at the clump of hay she held out to him with one hand, she began stringing up the saddle with the other.

"Sorry I haven't been around the past couple of days," she crooned softly.

An affectionate snort as he pawed the ground and nudged her with his nose.

She smiled.

As she swung her legs over and stirred Swift Wind to a light canter, a vacant look misted her eyes.

She looked towards the town, just beneath the hill on which the castle stood, eyes still glazed in thought.

"It'll keep me busy," she mumbled the excuse. "At the very least."

The knock hadn't even finished before Catra told Adora to come in.

Another tray of tuna sandwiches.

"Adora, you're interrupting me. Again."

The undercurrent of amusement Adora didn't think she imagined.

Wordlessly she placed it in front of Catra.

"Even I don't eat tuna every day, you know," Catra chuckled.

"Oh, right. What else do you like?"

"If you insist on bringing me food," Catra hummed. "You can just get whatever's in the Mess. I'm not picky. But also please stop."

Adora crossed her arms, a strangely determined look cobbled together as if scratched on at the last second.

"You will eat and you will like it."

This time, Catra did roll her eyes.

"Anyone at court tell you you're really weird? Or are all princesses like this?"

"Okay first of all, it's not a court-"

She took a deep breath, trying to ignore Catra's raspy giggle.

"I was wondering if you'd like to come ride with me."

Catra scoffed.

"I already told you. Not happening."

"The wind in your hair, Catra! Landscapes rushing by in green blurs! If you'd give it a chance-"

"Give up, princess."

But Catra's smile was undeniable.

As Adora retreated back into the threshold of the office door, that same cobbled determination flashed on her face.


The next day saw Adora teetering carefully towards Catra as she held a bowl in her hands.

"Noodles today?" Catra observed.

"Yup," Adora nearly lost her balance. A bit of broth spilled over the side.

"It's really good," she said, not looking at Catra as she focused on placing the bowl gently to one side of what looked to be Catra's notes on some sort of trade legislation.

"Adora, this is unnecessary. Go play with Fast Breeze or whatever his name is."

"It's Swift Wind," Adora pouted. "And eat your food before it gets cold."

She sternly handed Catra a spoon and fork.

"And once you're done, you should come ride with me."

Catra groaned.

"You are impossible."

"Pot, kettle," Adora cheerfully retorted, first pointing to Catra then herself. "Eat."

Catra jabbed her spoon towards her companion.

"I'm not riding with you," her mouth was already stuffed with noodles.

"I'm telling you, you're missing out."

"I'm sure."

Once Catra was done, Adora shrugged and took the bowl with her when she left.

"You don't need to knock. I'm sure you'd barge in anyway with no consideration for privacy."

Adora smirked.

"I don't know what you mean. Here."

"An omelet in the afternoon?"

"Scorpia says Rogelio's going through a brunch phase."

"So you've been talking a lot with Scorpia?"

"She's really nice! Well, once she got past the whole…me being a total prick thing."

Catra, cheek bulging with egg, had to hold her hand to her mouth as she nearly spit it back up.

Swallowing, she guffawed.

"You must've really been a lot. Usually the only violent thing about Scorpia are her hugs. And I could totally milk your apology, you know. Never let you live it down and such and such."

"You could, like the despot you are," Adora joked.

"Anyway," Catra frowned. "What is that?"

In Adora's hands – Catra wondered where she even fit it while carrying a wide plate brimming with omelet – was green. Its leaves almost like flesh, small bulbs of it arranged in a rounded, flowered pattern.

"It's a succulent!" Adora happily exclaimed. "I thought it could brighten up the room a bit. Make it feel a bit more lived in. I noticed that you don't have decorations or furniture or anything."

"It's an office space," Catra's listlessly pointed out. "Not where I sleep."

"Could've fooled me."

Adora reached behind her with both hands and retrieved a small wooden stand, colored black, its surface sleek and polished.

"You can put it on this. I went into town and bought this from the local woodworker's. And I've got some custom orders lined up too. They should be ready in a week or so."

"Adora," Catra grumbled, exasperated. "I never asked for any of this."

"I'm not letting you work in these conditions," Adora set her jaw. "It is depressing in here."

Catra said nothing, just fished a stray onion onto her fork.

"And, I was also wondering…"

Catra groaned.

"Adora. Come on."

"You will literally never want to go a day without it if you just try it once!" Adora insisted.

"I will allow the plant. Because you're incorrigible and insufferable and I want you to leave before I blow a blood vessel."

"I'll get you to ride with me."

"Rogelio was sent from heaven to feed us and you are so fucking lucky he was or I'd throttle you right now."


She-ra had to duck her head to fit in the doorway as she lugged the slats of wood behind her.

"What the fuck."

Catra could only ogle as Adora grunted and heaved sections of plank over against the wall. Her long, golden tresses were briefly caught in some metal screws as she unrolled a belt of tools.

"What. Are you doing."

"I'm building you a shelf! Oh, hang on."

Adora clambered to her feet and back outside briefly.

She brought in a plate of pasta. The sauce, its creamy texture an unassuming salmon pink, was still simmering quietly.

"There you go," Adora put it in front of Catra, before pulling up a sleeve and stomping doggedly towards the pile of segmented wood.

"Okay, you said that as if it explained anything."

"You're literally constantly swimming in paperwork," Adora had the absolute gall to roll her eyes at Catra, as if she was the one who was one candle short of a fuse.

"I don't how you've survived until now without something to hold it all," Adora mumbled over nails held in her mouth as she slotted pieces together. "At least with a shelf, you can start organizing them in bulk somewhere in the office."

"You are clinically insane."

"On that note, wanna go for a-"

"No."


It was a day warmed by sunlight, filtered sparsely through the curtains, mingling with the dim stuttering gleam of the overhead lights, that Catra finally broke.

It was seeing that damned plant sitting in the corner innocuously, doing nothing to offset the grotesque sheen of Prime's stripped walls. God, but they were ugly.

It was seeing that shelf, expertly crafted, painted a pristine, shimmering blue, documents wrapped in manila stuffed haphazardly along every row. Something Catra would die a thousand deaths over than admit actually helped her keep track of her itinerary. She'd even fit some of her favorite books, worn leather steeped in shadow, kept carefully at the back, in the corners.

It was seeing Adora shuffle in on cue, arms brimming with dumplings, dimples criminally creased in a way that framed that nauseatingly hopeful luster of her eyes. Eyes that were storm clouds, steel set like the blue of a parting sky.

"FINE."

Adora hadn't even asked yet.

"Uh-"

"Fine," Catra seethed. "If it'll get you to stop bugging me about it."

"Are you saying-"

"Yes, Adora. I'll ride your fucking horse with you."


Author's note:

The wait was liiittle longer than I would've liked, that one's on me. We're at an interim where it's a bit harder for me to progress in a way that fits the vibe I'm going for, ya feel me. Once we move things along I've already got a ton of stuff in the works for once they're more comfortable around each other.

Feedback is love!