Chapter 13: Humble Pie
She sat up from the dead ground. Nothing grew here and nothing would for a long time. The poisons of the Fright Zone leeched deep until roots withered and died. The acidic air stung now in a way she didn't recognize. Probably she'd been so used to it in the Horde that she hadn't noticed how it burned her eyes and throat. Distance and time stripped her of that proximity protection, and she recognized the yellow haze and scorched ground for its wrongness.
Adora climbed to her feet and turned in a circle to get her bearings. This was the training grounds for the Horde's Vehicular Assault Training, or VAT. And she knew what happened next.
Right on time, the squeal of brakes rose above the rumble of engines, and she tracked the slow slide towards catastrophe. Two skiffs moved inch by inch towards each other, too fast, too slow. They collided in an explosion of metal, plastic, and people.
Sometimes she dreamed about this. But it'd grown rarer and rarer in recent years. Sometimes it happened in reverse. She'd watch one mangled piece of machine and flesh disassemble until two skiffs emerged, wholly intact. People's shredded arms would fly back onto their bodies and their ripped muscles would merge back together. A shattered headlight would suck pieces back into itself until it tumbled back to the front of the skiff and fit perfectly back into its normal spot. The skiffs would reverse and drive backwards from each other until they twisted and turned and reversed all the way back to one of the Horde's garages. Then someone turned the light off in the garage and everyone took jerky, wrong steps back to their bunks and floated back through their dreams.
But sometimes it happened at full speed and people and parts exploded into a mix of something synthetic and organic. The skiffs bled out their oil. The people spilled out their parts. And Adora was first on scene. Sometimes she appeared from nowhere and Adora watched herself try to save people who couldn't be saved, who were already gone. Sometimes she rewatched it through her younger eyes, inhabited her younger body, and went through the motions she didn't remember but her hands must have.
This time she stood and watched her younger self sprint through the mud. Even from a young age she ran to danger. She was sorry she ever got the chance.
The other Adora splashed through the iridescent, oily mud and the rivers of blood. Perhaps the only natural thing that touched this ground in years and years. And even now, forty years separation, she marveled at how much blood steadily marched onwards. Surely people didn't have that much blood. But they did. They did. They did.
"Let's not watch this." A hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her so hard backwards, she almost fell. Normally, she'd be mad. She might even start yelling. But this time she agreed, she didn't want to watch. So, she twisted in the hold and ran behind a little girl with black hair. Ran where, she didn't know, but she wanted to escape so badly that it didn't really matter where they landed.
The shaky form of a building, like someone almost remembered it, appeared through the Fright Zone's noxious smog and they slowed into a walk towards it. Walking, walking. She wondered, like she often did: Should they be running away?
Unlike the industrial efficiency of the Fright Zone's architecture, this building had a swooping elegance that reminded her of Bright Moon. It was made of mostly brick and had the accompanying reddish tint. Several towers, located in the middle of the square shaped building, rose upwards. It seemed important, but lacked the hustle and bustle expected. Where were the people?
"Where are we? What is this building?"
"It's like the one from the other night. Where you laid on the bed?" The little girl said.
"Like the Cadet Quarters from the Fright Zone?"
She nodded. "Like that. Just as bad. I think-"
A window opened, screeching so loudly it cut their conversation to its knees. A person appeared at the window, a woman more specifically. She wore a faded floral dress, washed twenty times since its prime, and her face twisted with hate. No other word for it. Even from this distance, she could see how the woman's eyes burned like two smoldering holes in her skull.
Movement below the woman caught her eye and she saw a little boy standing in the women's clutches. He had cropped brown hair, a wool cap, and an indecipherable age. He looked old somehow, he didn't smile, but he was small. Maybe about as tall as Reyna but skinnier and ready to blow away with any wayward wind. And he was familiar. She'd never met him before, she was sure about that, but she recognized him. The vacancy. The distance between him and right now. How he should've been running but he stood still. She knew him.
And then something happened. He suddenly soared through the air, hurtling too fast, too slow. The drop was at least forty feet, and she knew she couldn't catch him in time. She still tried, running forward as hard as she could. He didn't scream so Adora did it for him. She screamed because she knew what happened next.
He bounced once and then broke apart on the grass. Some part of her stuck onto the image of his skull expanding, exploding into a shocking burst of red. An unbelievable amount of blood poured out of his small body, like someone turned on the tap. The rest of her focused on the bounce. The way his body remained intact as it flew upwards before collapsing, finally, into a bloody heap. People bounced like that? No. She'd imagined that.
Her eyes wandered upwards and landed on the wide-open window. The curtains billowed outwards, but something anchored them to the building, kept them safe, so they just flapped uselessly in the wind. The woman stood there, arms out and palms flat, before she pulled the curtains back in and shut the window.
"Come on you naughty girl." A woman's voice hissed in her ear. She looked down at the hand gripping her arm and then up at the adult looming over her. "You see stuff that isn't there all the time. You don't remember things right." She dragged Adora away from the building, the distance slowly shrouding it until she tried to draw in the details by memory. "There's something wrong with you. You didn't see anything, alright? And you better not tell anyone what you think you saw."
Adora wouldn't; she'd been too well trained to do something like that.
Another hand wrenched her away from the woman, and despite its incessant pull away, she stopped and let herself catch-up. It was the same little girl as before: black hair, light skin, and wearing a beautiful black dress with a red necktie. "Come on, we have to run," she said, while yanking at Adora's arm again. She looked back at the woman stalking towards both of them and decided to comply. Like a rabbit cornered between a wolf and a cliff, she jumped, wanting to bounce and shatter rather than get eaten.
So she ran after the little girl, ran for her life, ran for her sanity, ran for the boy. She'd remember him even if no one else would. She'd carry the truth even if no one else could. What else was there to do? Nothing could save him now. Not even Adora, with all the power in the universe.
When they'd run, and then run some more, a gray lake and a matching pier appeared in the mist. A boat was tied to the dock, and she knew the little girl was leading her to it. In all actuality, they'd left the woman far, far behind but the need to escape remained. Because leaving meant more than outrunning that hazy building or that hateful woman.
She leapt into the boat after the girl and grabbed for the oars. With a tremendous push from her foot, they sailed away from the dock until Adora could dip the oars in. With no plan or sense of direction, she rowed until her chest and arms burned with a comforting pain. After setting the oars down and searching for a landmark without any success, Adora turned her attention back to her companion.
The same woman from her previous dreams sat on the opposite side of the boat, but the little girl was nowhere in sight. Completely vanished. Had she fallen out and Adora not even noticed? She looked over the side of the boat and began peeling off her jacket. She'd jump in, she'd vaporize the water, she'd turn back time. Anything, anything to save the girl.
"What are you doing?" The woman asked.
"A little girl was just here. She–she must've fallen out and I have to find her. Please, did you see her? Did she fall out?"
A hand on her wrist stopped her scramble and she glanced up at the woman. "I'm that little girl. Don't jump out of the boat, okay? I'm her and I'm okay."
Adora deflated, something inside of her losing its ability to do anything. She laid backwards against the wood and stared up at the Horde-manufactured urine yellow sky. The only response she could summon was a low, "Do people really bounce like that?"
Silence made the distance between them a canyon and she couldn't see a way back. They somehow knew too much and too little about each other to have a conversation. But, surprisingly, the woman answered, "Ya, they do. But you know what, we got away just fine. From whatever the fuck your thing was and whatever the fuck my thing was. That counts for something."
"We might've gotten away but what about everyone else?" Adora asked. And that was the sticking point, wasn't it? What about everyone else? The left behinds? And the dead? What did they do with them? She waited, as if this woman could answer the lingering questions of her life.
Finally, the woman said, "They won't get away with it. I made sure of that." Somehow, impossibly, that made her feel better. The separation between them fell away, and Adora believed her fully.
Adora sat up and braced her arms on the side of the boat, ready to throw up or row back to the shore. Whatever the mood called for. "You're so strong." The woman leaned forward, closing the gap, and ran her hands along Adora's arms.
Adora looked away from her touch and towards the dead still water. No waves, no ripples, no breeze. The boat stayed perfectly still. "Me? You're the strong one."
"You think so?" The woman asked. She sat back in her seat and seemed curious, open. Decidedly not disintegrating.
"You saw that–that happen. And you survived it." Adora audibly gulped and the woman cocked her head. "You saw him get murdered. And then...and then you were told to forget."
"It didn't make me strong." Adora knew what she meant. "And I didn't forget. And you survived, too. That wreck may have been an accident, but those kids still died."
"Ya, they sure did." Adora drummed her fingers against the wood and looked out, trying to find a horizon. Any one would do. "No one said anything to me, you know?" Adora said, "But I guess they were impressed. I got called to the next accident and then the next. And so on and so forth. I even helped dig graves."
"So many accidents with children, these places." The woman paused and pursed her lips, looking hesitant for the first time. "Why'd they do that? Get you to go to these accidents and make you dig graves, I mean. Surely adults were around to handle that stuff."
Why? Who was to say? Despite the lasting uncertainty, she had a feeling why. "To toughen me up, I think. I was supposed to be...I was too soft to be the person I was supposed to be. They thought I needed to see that kind of stuff and handle it."
"And were they right? Could you handle it?"
"I couldn't until I could. As it turns out, you can get used to anything," Adora said, "So, to answer your question, she was right. It did toughen me up."
Some version of her somewhere lived in a world where she didn't see the crash. Where she didn't have to toughen up and she got away with just being her. She'd like to meet that version and ask what the trick was. How was she like that? How did she feel and what was her life like? Did it feel easy? Were her troubles conquerable?
"Do you ever think about what could've been? Who you could've been if that hadn't happened? How things would be different?"
Adora laughed at the timing. "I was just thinking that exact thought, actually. I wonder if she'd be a better person. I wonder if she'd–." Adora paused. Would that version of herself have convinced Catra to leave? Seen the Horde for what it was sooner? Fought back? Saved Angella?
"I think I would be better," the woman admitted. Adora took her gaze off the water and looked at her. They were pretty much perfect strangers and she'd just admitted something that wounded just as well as any sword. It must've taken courage to think it, let alone say it. "I've made so many mistakes. Mistakes I'm not sure I would've made if I hadn't…. been there."
This time, Adora leaned forward and took her companion's hands. She deserved that at least. And if Adora couldn't fix what they'd seen, put that little boy back together, then she had to do something. So she said, "I understand." What else could she do? What else could she give? She wondered and wondered. But understanding was all she had.
The woman's green eyes fixed on Adora's. "You know, so many people have said that to me over the years. You're one of the few I actually believe."
"I wish I didn't get it."
"Me too." They both opened their mouths to add something but neither ended up saying anything. What was there to say? Yet, she didn't feel distanced by the silence. "I think," the woman said slowly, "we should wake up now."
A dim streak of light greeted her entrance back into the world. Its presence jolted her already heaving chest into taking shorter, shallower breaths. Where was she? The beige curtains and masonry didn't match anything in her life. She did, however, recognize the shape pressed against her front. She buried her face into the back of Catra's neck and tightened her grip around her stomach. She willed Catra to pin her here, to this world. Tack her against the bed. Anything to keep her on the map.
Catra let out a "Brrrrrr?" of an early morning greeting and shifted against her, not turning around to face her. Which was okay because the memories of the previous night chased away her faint heart.
After dinner, they went dancing. And after dancing, they'd decided to get a hotel room rather than ride all the way back to Bright Moon. And that turned out to be a very, very good decision.
"Shit, you're sweaty," Catra said in her scratchy morning voice.
"Go back to sleep."
"I can't." Catra stretched and lazily shifted onto her back, her eyes still closed. Adora refused to budge and kept holding on for dear life. "Not when you're squeezing the life outta me. What's up? Ready for round...hmmm….ten? I think we were around there." She smirked and cracked her eyes open. As soon as their gazes met, her smile dropped, and her eyes opened wide. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" She propped herself on one arm and peered down at Adora.
"I had a...a dream. A bad one. A really bad one."
"What was it about?" Catra asked.
What was it about? What theme ran through it and provided a cohesive thread? "Blood, I guess."
"You had a dream about blood? Nothing else?"
"No, there was plenty else. But that's what it was about."
Catra's body obscured the struggling streak of light and Adora could only make out the fuzzy edges of her form. For whatever reason, the inability to see most of her wife made the weight of sharing less impossible. "Bow and Glimmer told me what you said about blood. About how you've seen a lot of it before. Does it have something to do with that?" Catra brought up a hand and smoothed back stray pieces of blonde hair. "I should've asked this first: Do you wanna talk about it?"
"No, but it kinda feels like Marge's presence has entered the room and I will be kicked out of therapy if I don't talk about it. Something about vulnerability being important to relationships?"
"Ahh, yes, that little inconvenience," Catra said. They both chuckled but then the seconds ticked by, and the air felt heavy between them. She hadn't had this much trouble talking to Catra….maybe ever. But she had to try.
"You've known me my whole life," Adora started, "You know what the Horde was like. You won't–your eyes won't get big when I tell you this and you won't look like a kicked puppy."
"Well, now I won't." Catra lowered herself until she laid fully on top of her. Her palms laid flat on Adora's chest and her ears stood tall, pointing towards Adora. She remained silent.
Adora smiled and let her head fall back against the pillow. How much was this hotel? The excessively fancy ceiling trimming didn't bode well. Price was the last thing on her mind last night and she couldn't recall how much she'd handed over to the night clerk.
Catra headbutted her chin lightly. "You're kinda scaring me right now."
"Do you remember when Trixie and Jorge got into that accident? I can still see their faces perfectly."
"Ya, I remember. I especially remember the funeral. Closed caskets, as I recall. That was the first time anyone I'd ever known died."
She brought her head back down and used Catra's glowing eyes to anchor herself. "It was definitely closed caskets. They were too messed up for anything else. And I know that because I was there."
Catra blinked once, twice and then said in a low tone, "What do you mean?"
"I was there. That day. When it happened. I was there with Shadow Weaver to learn about skiffs. And I was the first one that got to them. And there was so much blood, Catra. I still can't believe how much there was. I had to…" She looked back up at the ceiling, focusing on a particular piece of ornate carving, "I had to do that stuff a lot. I helped with the bodies. Recovered them. That kind of thing. And every time, I thought that there was no way that people had that much blood. That's what the dream was about. I think."
"The fucking adults didn't do that? Are you fucking kidding me? And don't get me started on the fact that accidents happened that often." A pause. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I–I don't know," Adora said. Was that true? In many ways.
"You wanted to protect me? Be a Mother Hen? Adora, I could've handled it." Catra rolled off her and sat on the opposite edge of the bed, miles away from Adora's reach. "I guess I get not telling me at the time. But it's been thirty years. You've had all the time in the world to talk to me about this."
She wanted to take it all back. Say something funny when Catra first asked what was wrong. Reel her words back in and rearrange them into something recognizable and safe. Of course this wasn't what Catra wanted to hear, especially after such a good night. She scrubbed at her face and wondered if it was possible to just curl up around each other and fall asleep again.
"It drives me crazy when you don't tell me stuff. When you keep things close to your chest. It's like you don't trust me with your thoughts," Catra said, her back still turned. Because of Adora, now everyone was having a bad time at–she checked the clock–4:41 AM. "I know I've hurt you but I swear, I won't again. I've tried to make up for all that shit I put you through. But I still feel like you don't tell me everything. Like I said, it's like you don't trust me."
Adora rolled/shimmied over and put her hand on Catra's back. She got through about two and a half strokes through her short fur before Catra stood up, out of her reach. Adora face planted into the sheets and barely suppressed a groan. Fights were never good. Fights at 4:41 AM existed in a realm of sheer pain.
What should she say? She wanted to say, 'I did just try to tell you something, though. And you shut me down.' But that seemed like it would only fan the fire. And she had neither the energy nor brain cells to come out swinging. "Come back to bed, Catra. We can talk about this later."
"No, I think I'm gonna go for a walk." She pulled her clothes on and then her shoes, prompting Adora to sit up. She was really going to go for a walk? At–she checked the clock–4:44 AM?
"Catra, it's gonna be cold and awful out there. At least stay in the lobby. And please, please be careful." What kind of people were up at 4:44 AM anyways? Probably not good people. Probably criminals. Maybe someone that would hurt her. "Actually, maybe I should come with you. I won't say a word. You won't even notice me."
For whatever reason, that finally made Catra smile. She came and sat next to Adora before running her hands through her tangled hair. "I'll be okay. And I'll be back soon. I just need to clear my head."
Adora nodded, hoping to project that she understood. Even though she really didn't. "Do you want my sword?"
"You can't carry an unsheathed sword around in a hotel."
"With enough confidence, you can carry an unsheathed sword anywhere," Adora said.
Catra let out a light laugh before standing. "I suppose that's true." She moved towards the door. "Love you. I'll be back soon."
"Love you, too," Adora said, "Call me if anything–," the door shut and Adora fell back into the pillows, "-comes up." She groaned and looked at the bedside table. Hand carved. This place was definitely expensive.
"Why?" She whispered. She really, really needed someone right now and her person just strolled out the door. And if Catra didn't even want to hear what happened to her in the Horde, then no one did.
And it was her fault really. She had been withholding stuff from Catra, of course she'd sense that. She was too smart and perceptive not to. But she'd told her everything, everything, except for Mara's warning about her death. She'd told her the truth when it came to the Horde. At least as much of the truth she knew. She'd been ready to tell her everything about the dream.
And at the end of the day, it was also just hard to talk to anyone about the Horde. Including Catra. Maybe especially Catra. She didn't have it as bad as Catra; she wasn't beat. So complaining about it felt...wrong. In the grand scheme of things, what happened to Adora really wasn't that bad. She'd survived, hadn't she? She'd been able to leave when Catra remained trapped. That wasn't nothing. She'd been the lucky one in so many different ways. She'd do well to remember that.
And besides, maybe she'd retrigger something awful for her wife and then she'd never forgive herself. She couldn't bear the thought of causing that kind of turmoil. She had to...well, she had to protect her. A notion that would probably piss Catra off, but Adora couldn't help it. She couldn't help it for their first eighteen years together, she couldn't help it when Catra was leading the Horde, and she certainly couldn't help it for their thirty years of marriage. It felt baked into her flesh. An automatic response that flared at every given opportunity. This situation was no exception.
And even when Catra was good at hiding it, she knew how much it hurt her wife to hear about the bad stuff that happened to Adora. It wasn't the same horror as Glimmer and Bow. The same unbelieving stares. She wasn't surprised like they were; she seethed. But it wounded Catra all the same. Which was nice in a kind of terrible way. She cared so much about Adora. That much was obvious. But it made it hard to share sometimes. Upsetting her like that felt vicious, it felt cruel. Sometimes she spared her the agony of knowing.
Adora shifted on her side and stared at the strengthening beam of sun. She could fall asleep again. When she closed her eyes, however, she knew sleep wasn't coming back. Not without Catra and especially not when she was wandering around all alone. She could get dressed and follow her in secret. But that seemed like a bad idea too. Catra needed space and she had to respect that. So, she settled on plan C and just laid there.
A while later, the door clicked open behind her and she turned over on her back. In the little light filtering through the curtains, she could see Catra moving around at the far end of their room. She said nothing, just waited. For what, she didn't know.
"Have you been waiting for me this whole time?"
Adora decided not to mention how she'd imagined every possible situation in which Catra was murdered, maimed, accidently killed, or seriously injured. And how this kept her body thrumming with energy. "Yes, of course."
Catra walked over while pulling off various pieces of clothing. Promising. Very promising. She put a flower (?) on the table and pulled the edge of the cover back before slipping under. She maneuvered until she hovered above Adora. "You didn't have to do that," Catra said.
Adora placed her hands on her upper arms and, Spirits, were they cold. "Yes, I did. Now come here so I can warm you up." Catra searched her face for a moment before laying her full body over Adora's. She welcomed the crush and moved her hands vigorously over back, hoping to get some heat restored into her freezing body.
Her purr rumbled out from her chest and Adora relaxed as much as she could. Which, honestly, wasn't that much. She rubbed her cheek against Adora's chin over and over again while her tail swished across Adora's legs. "I think you're warming up."
"I think so too," Catra murmured. She licked Adora's neck a few times in long, soothing strokes. "I'm sorry I was such an asshole."
"You weren't really. You were just upset."
"I was. I can't even begin to describe how fucking mad I get when I think about what happened to you in the Horde. But that's no excuse for not listening. I was acting like an asshole and I'm so sorry." She shook her head, tickling Adora with her soft curls. "I got mad at you for not telling me stuff in the middle of you telling me stuff. It doesn't make any sense. And I made it about me. Like somehow this shitty, horrifically traumatizing thing that happened to you affects me more. But I'm here now and I promise I'll listen."
She appreciated that but somewhere in the wait, she'd lost her appetite for telling. It was all just details anyway. She needed Catra to see the big picture. But where to begin? "Do you remember everything that happened in the Horde?"
"Ya, pretty much everything I'd say. Why?"
"Well, it's not like that for me. I know I don't remember everything. There are months, even years, I can't remember. It's all dark. Just blacked out lines of text. And sometimes things just come back to me. And weirdly, sometimes I lose them again. I could not tell you the whys or the hows but it's true. And things have been coming back to me lately. Like what I told you earlier. So…" Adora sighed. "I'm not trying to keep stuff from you. It's just that I can't remember so much of what happened."
"You don't remember whole years?"
Adora looped her arms around Catra's neck, satisfied that she'd recovered much of her lost heat. "Nope, it's like my brain stopped recording. I could not tell you what happened during Year Seven even if I tried."
"Year Seven?" Catra asked, "We would've been what? Twelve or thirteen?"
"Something like that."
"Has it always been like this?" Catra kneaded her chest a little more intensely than usual, perhaps unknowingly.
"Ya, I think so. When I first joined the Rebellion, Bow and Glimmer asked me questions I had no answers to because I couldn't remember."
"And what did they say?"
"I think they thought I was lying. Because how could someone not remember what happened three years ago? But I really couldn't and I wasn't lying. And then they stopped asking questions."
"You seem bothered by that," Catra murmured while rubbing her cheek against Adora's.
"I don't know. I guess I am. I don't know if I could tell you why." The light from the window grew more and more intense minute by minute. Which emphasized two key points: they were up way too early, and this conversation was way too much. And Adora considered herself a morning person. "It's just...it's nice when people keep asking, you know? Even if you can't answer."
Catra nodded into the crook of her neck. "Why do you think you can't remember?"
"That's the question, isn't it? Why?" She gathered Catra's hair up in her hands and put it over one shoulder. "I'm gonna be honest, I don't think I wanna know. My brain deleted this stuff for a reason, I'd rather not dredge it all back up."
Catra looked up, alarmed. "Don't you think cramming it down will only make things worse? For me, getting it all out there was extremely freeing. I don't think I could've healed had I held anything back."
Adora shrugged or at least as much as she could with Catra pinning her down. "Remembering doesn't save those kids' lives. It doesn't un...whatever me. I've made it this far, haven't I? My brain is trying to protect me; I'm gonna let it."
"Adora." Catra smoothed the back of her hands over Adora's cheeks. She gave a faltering smile and her eyes lacked their usual glint. "I think this is a very, very bad idea. I know you didn't ask my opinion but I can't stay silent on this. The fact that this stuff is coming up right now is like a blazing red flag to me. Don't you think you're trying to tell yourself something?"
"Maybe but I don't wanna know what it is. I've been fine for a very long time because I couldn't remember a damn thing. I'm content with keeping it that way."
Catra searched her face for several excruciating moments. For the first time, she noticed the bags under her eyes. They really needed to go back to sleep, good Lord. "It's up to you how you want to handle this. Of course. But I'll do anything to help. I'll make an appointment with Marge or I'll come with you or watch the kids or...I'll be there if you want to talk about it. Just say the word." She lowered her head back to Adora's chest and whispered, "I know I just fucked up bad and made a compelling case for why you can't tell me anything, but I promise that you can."
"I know and I trust you. If I change my mind, you'll be the first person to know." She scratched Catra's ears exactly the way she liked. "Now, can we please go back to sleep? We don't have to check out for hours."
"Yes, we can," Catra said, "But first, I have something for you." She leaned over and grabbed the flower she'd brought in. "As soon as I walked out of this room, I knew I'd fucked up. So I tried to find something that would express...how sorry I am. And then I found this, the glacier lily. A gorgeous flower that happens to be my favorite in the whole wide galaxy." She tucked some hair behind Adora's ear before continuing, "This flower only knows people by their horses. We still call that diplomat from Arilia blue roan, you know?"
"I would do anything to get my hands on that horse. Gorgeous, gorgeous animal."
"And that brings me to my next point. This flower also happens to be a huge animal lover. Especially of cats."
"A feline fanatic, perhaps?"
"Stars, preserve me," Catra muttered under her breath, "And it's also simultaneously the least funny and funniest...flower that I know."
Adora looked between her and the flower. "This is a metaphor, right? The flower is me? Or else I'm gonna feel very upstaged by a plant."
"This flower's ego is also delicate as a petal and in need of constant validation in the form of sunlight and water."
"Alright, okay," Adora said, "This metaphor is starting to fall apart now."
Catra laughed and stretched up to kiss her. "From now on, this flower will be the Adora flower. For my one-of-a-kind wife."
"That still feels insulting somehow. Like a nice way of calling me weird."
"Do you want me to call you weird in a mean way?"
"That sounds kinda sexy, not gonna lie," Adora said.
"What?" Catra practically shouted. She set the flower down carefully before shoving Adora's face away with a palm. "Now that's weird, that's fuckin' weird."
In retaliation, she wrapped her arms around Catra and flipped her like a pancake. "Now what are you gonna do? Huh?" She expected her to try and scramble away, instead she reached up captured Adora's lips with her own. After who knows how long, they broke apart, leaving Adora wanting and wide awake. "That's cheating."
"Maybe but you can still win this one."
…
The following day, they dragged her to the Eternian camp. She'd been in the middle of helping Catra help Finn with their audition lines when Glimmer, Bow, and Brick showed up at their door. 'Today,' Glimmer had said, 'You're going to meet your parents.' That had, of course, sent Reyna into a frenzy and Finn even seemed interested. 'Later,' Adora told them, 'You can meet them later.' Which she meant but that also meant she herself had to meet her parents and she couldn't stall any longer. So now they were here, riding out to the camp with little more than an impulsive decision driving them forward.
"I just can't wait for all the Eternians to fawn over you like we did."
"I don't get it. What do you mean?" Adora gripped her reins tighter and glanced around. No one seemed particularly confused.
"You know how when you defected, and everyone started throwing themselves at you?" Glimmer said, "Everyone always wanted to get your attention?"
"Ummm, pardon?"
"Spirits, Adora. You really didn't notice all the blushing, all the staring, all the touching?" Glimmer turned around in her saddle and raised both eyebrows like Adora was supposed to know what was going on.
"No? And why would I? People are just like that."
"No, no they are not," Glimmer said while massaging the bridge of her nose.
"Hot people really do lead different lives, huh?" Brick said. Wow, and what a contribution to the conversation. She hit him with her best 'shut up' look.
"No, I don't believe that. The Princesses weren't like that. We were just friends. And why would you guys act like that anyway?"
"Are you fucking with me right now?"
Adora shifted in her saddle and glanced at Catra, hoping to get some help. But all she got back was a classic Catra smirk. What did that even mean? "No?"
"Adora, you show up one day and you're tall and you're ripped and you're swaggering around with unabashed confidence and you're gorgeous and you're an exotic Horde officer. Oh, ya, and you can turn into a fuckin' eight-foot-tall warrior princess. Of course everyone had a crush on you."
"Really?" She thought for a second. "It wasn't my winning personality?"
"No."
"I wasn't even there and even I know that wasn't it."
"Actually," Bow started but she didn't bother to keep listening. A brick building on the horizon, about four stories, seemed so familiar. She took a deep breath and smelt the acidic bite of the long-gone Fright Zone. It had the same forty-foot drop. And if someone leapt from it? Or was pushed? Would their body bounce and then crack against the ground? Would anyone care? Or would they drag the sole witness away and tell her it never happened?
She shook her head. Tried to reframe. This wasn't her dream and whatever happened to that little girl, that woman, it hadn't happened on Etheria. She was going to meet her parents today. She had to think about that. What she'd say, what she'd–
"Hey." She felt someone brush her thigh and she refocused on Catra. She rode beside Adora on Melog and wore a concerned expression. "We were just joking. Of course people liked you because of your personality." Oh, right, that. She'd forgotten their barely breathing banter.
"Ya," Adora said with a laugh that sounded fake to her own ears, "Ya, of course I knew you guys were joking." The intersection of her parents and the dream felt like uncharted waters. Like she was entering a strange corner of life that few experienced, least of all her friends. Where did she even begin her explanation?
"Are you anxious-"
"Yes," Adora said, nodding. Always, forever.
"I–I didn't even finish," Bow said.
"Oh, sorry, go ahead."
"Are you anxious about meeting your parents?"
"Spirits, yes. I feel like I'm gonna throw up. And I want to turn around," Adora added, "And maybe cry."
"Oh...that's it?"
She laughed and her shoulders loosened one one-hundredth of an inch. "What do you even say to parents? Thank you? Thank you for giving birth to me? I appreciate the genetic material?"
"Go with the last one," Brick said, "I use that one all the time with my parents."
"He actually does," Glimmer confirmed, "Such a shit."
"I learned from the best." Brick smiled wide and his eyes glinted with that familiar… love that he had for his parents. A love she'd never known. Or maybe she had? Did Shadow Weaver count? Should she mention her to her parents?
"I swear our other kids aren't like this." Glimmer looked between her and Catra with an exasperated face. Like they didn't know their other kids and how each possessed a Glimmer provided bite.
"Macy is a little like this," Bow said, "She tried arguing with me about bows the other week. Bows! That's like my thing."
"We know, Dad. Maybe we can get her into maces and then she won't be a know-it-all about bows."
"Do not, under any circumstances, hand Macy a mace," Glimmer warned, "She is way, way too chaotic for that."
"Hmmm," Catra said, "Sounds like someone we know from a long time ago. Glitter? Glam? Some stupid name like that."
"You're a cat person named Catra, you have zero authority over this matter," Glimmer pointed out. Some horrible, secret part of Adora agreed.
Catra, always needing the last insult, muttered under her breath, "You named the future king Brick for fuck's sake."
"What was that?" Glimmer said sharply.
Wanting to head off another war, Adora interjected, "You know, I believe the correct term is magicat, not a cat person."
"Didn't you call Swift Wind a unicorn the other day? When he's clearly an alicorn?" Brick said.
"Anyone see Madame Razz around here?" Adora rose a bit in her saddle and scanned the nearby woods for added drama.
"No?" Bow said, "Why?" All heads swiveled her way and Adora tried to tamper down her grin.
"I need someone to bake me a humble pie." She couldn't help laughing at her joke and much to her delight, everyone else laughed too. Especially Catra, who was by far the most familiar with the intricacies that made up Madame Razz.
"That was actually funny," Catra said between laughs.
"Don't sound so shocked." Adora opened her mouth to add something else, but quickly shut it when she saw the front gate of the Eternian camp. As she'd ordered, the gate was being manned by soldiers. As they approached, the guards glanced up, did a double take, and started bowing, repeatedly and a little unnecessarily. Some bowed and then saluted her at the same time, clearly confused as to what the protocols were. She couldn't help but smile as she returned their salutes.
"Your Majesties," Captain Hane greeted as he stepped from the guard tower. He bowed first to Bow and Glimmer before bowing to her, Catra, and Brick. "Your Highnesses." She'd spoken to him a handful of times over the years and heard that he made a fine officer.
"Captain Hane," Adora said, "I'm sure glad that it's you in charge of the gate detail."
"Thank you, Lord Commander. And please, don't let us stop you." He eyed the soldier controlling the actual gate and it swung open. "Let me know if you need anything, Your Majesties."
"We will, thank you," Glimmer said, nudging her horse forward. The group followed her through the gate and Adora scanned the crowd for those people...her parents.
After walking a little further, they discovered the camp was too tight for their horses, so they tied them up and continued on foot. "If I see the King, he's getting' smacked in the face," Brick declared, "I don't care what…." His voice drifted off as she stared at a couple.
There they were. Her parents. Her real, actual parents. In the flesh. They sat around a beaten-up table which stood in front of a green tent. The same kind of tent she'd seen her troops use during field exercises. It matched the military equipment and supplies dotting the camp. Stuff that her department and her people had built and distributed. The swell of pride she should've felt failed to fill her up; it was hard to feel good about the camp's green hues and industrial capacity. Not when she was used to Etheria's usual pop of color.
The camp did everything it was supposed to. It sheltered, it fed, it provided. But it was too quiet, too still. Everyone moved slowly, like they were being tracked by a predator. The children didn't laugh and the parents stood under the flaps of their tents, gazing at some distant point. Even when the war was at its lowest point, the Rebellion hadn't fallen into this apathetic tar pit.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," she said, coming to a halt.
"What? No. Come on." Glimmer grabbed her arm and practically dragged her towards her parents. "I would give anything to see my Mom again. I'm not gonna let you regret not meeting them." Adora didn't know what to say so she shut up and let herself be pulled.
When all five came to stand in front of them, they lumbered to their feet, eyes wide and bodies clearly not cooperating as quickly as they'd like. "Your Majesties," the man, her Dad, greeted. Despite his heavy accent, his words were crystal clear. He bowed and the woman followed suit. Both kept their eyes lowered, never once meeting any of the five's eyes.
She'd seen them from a distance, when they came through the portal. And they looked miserable then. Now they looked worse. In the bright sun, she could see their worn faces more clearly. Unlike the King and Princess, they had deep wrinkles and tanned skin. They were a bit hunched and their hands didn't quite look right, they were twisted and lumpy. It was impossible to say how old they were but if she had to guess, she would've estimated they were in their eighties. Of course, who knew how First Ones aged.
But they did look like her, a lot like her. Especially her Mom. While she didn't have the same pale blue eyes, their faces were remarkably similar, sharing the same high cheekbones and angular jaw. Her hair streaked white and blonde, coming together in a flattering but probably unplanned arrangement.
Her Dad's heavy eyebrows, while lacking the same neatness she kept her own in, retained the same basic shape as hers and sat in heavy contrast to his lighter hair. The difference pulled his face together and she imagined he must've been a handsome young man.
Someone elbowed her in the back, and she realized that she'd said nothing for a long time and that they were all just awkwardly standing around. What to say? What to do? Probably she just needed to do it, dive in. What else was there to do but tell the truth? She cleared her throat. "I think I'm your daughter."
This made them look up at the same time. Both squinted like they were giving her another look, a closer look. Would they find whatever they searched for? The family eye color? Her Dad's nose? Her Mom's hair?
"Natalia?" The woman croaked. Her eyes began watering and one shaky hand moved towards her hair. "Yer beautiful hair." Adora stayed still, happy to let whatever this was unfold. But then the woman snatched her hand back like she'd been burned on the stove. "I beg yer pardon, ma'am."
"Oh, no, it's okay," Adora said, "I don't mind. It's okay."
"We're flattered, miss, but yer too young. Our Natalia would be what? Forty eight?"
Her Mom nodded. "Forty eight."
Adora smiled, trying to put as much warmth as she could into it. "I am forty eight. I was stolen off Eternia when I was only a few months old and I've lived here since. I know there's a chance we're not related but what are the odds of–"
While still looking at her Mom, her shorter father engulfed her in a crushing hug. His cropped hair tickled her cheek and he smelt vaguely of sweat and the Etherian military's standard issue soap. She quit talking then and just let him hug her. Her Mom's tears spilt over and she sniffled hard while joining in the hug.
For minutes, maybe even close to an hour, everyone just cried. Few words were said; what could be said anyways? They'd been separated for forty-eight long years by Light Hope, by a false destiny, by a weapon, a war. She had a horrible, sinking suspicion they understood these things as well as she did and she wouldn't have to explain. It was the good stuff, the normal stuff, that seemed the hardest to communicate. How she'd lived a lot of life without them. In their absence, she'd been so many things: a soldier, a leader, a friend, a wife, a mom. Where did she begin?
And who had they been and become without her? How could she understand a loss like that? If Finn or Reyna were stolen, she'd have really, truly lost her mind. Anything or anyone she was supposed to be would've shattered into a million pieces. Pain would've been an understatement. How did you even begin to heal from that? Did you?
After they'd gotten the hugging out of their system, for now at least, and introduced themselves more thoroughly, Brick brought over some chairs and all seven packed together in a group. Adora almost sat down with the others but her Mom came over and reached up towards her face. Not really knowing what else to do, Adora bent down. Her Mom cradled her face gently and said, "I always thought ya were still alive. I never gave up hope. Never. Even when sumone said that ya were gone and I had to accept that. I jus' didn't. I knew ya'd find yer way back to us. I jus' hoped I'd live long enough to see ya again. And I did. Praise the gods." Fresh tears sprung up in her eyes and Adora felt her own welling up.
"You found me. Not the other way around."
"It don't matter who found who. What matters is that we're all here now. Together." Her Mom's eyes crinkled at the corners while a graceful smile painted across her face. The kind of smile that made everything feel alright. "After all these years, I can hardly believe it. It feels like a dream. The best kind."
"It does feel like a dream. I never thought I'd meet my parents. You know, I gave up on that idea a long time ago," Adora admitted, "I guess I shouldn't have." She considered for a moment how cutting these words could be. Her parents may not have given up on her, but she gave up on them. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
"Dontcha worry about a thing, darlin'. Ya never met us. Not really, anyways. It's hard to hold onto a hope that you can't see, can't imagine. You were jus' a wee thing when it happened. You couldn't have remembered us. I held ya, I loved ya, I knew ya. That's different. So, don't feel bad, okay? We have too much to be happy about."
"Okay," Adora said. She could still feel it, however. The wellspring of guilt she could draw upon infinitely for almost any event. It was gearing up for this one. She didn't give up on much. On really anything, depending on who you asked. But she did give up on her parents. That she did do.
And here they were, still searching for her fifty years later. Never having given up. Always holding onto some hope. Still loving her.
Maybe she should've tried harder to find them. Asked more questions of Hordak and Shadow Weaver and Light Hope. Been more determined when they went to a new planet. But she hadn't and they'd lost so much time.
Someone cleared their throat and Adora hugged her Mom lightly before taking a step backwards, out of reach. With an unreadable expression, her Mom sat back down. Adora tried deciphering for a second before giving up and taking her seat.
"Red's gonna be beside himself," her Dad said, "I dunno where he went today. Do ya?"
"I don't. But I hope he'll be back soon so he can meet his sister."
"Adora has a brother?" Catra said, ears perking.
"Ya. Our boy, Red," her Mom said, "He's a scientist, good one too. He got us here through that portal."
"Really?" Bow said, leaning forward, "I'd love to meet him. It couldn't have been easy to open that portal. I'd be interested in hearing how he did it."
"Course, Your Majesty. I'm sure he'd be happy to explain. He loves talkin' 'bout his work." Her Dad scanned the camp, squinting and shading his eyes in the Spring sun. "If only we knew where he went off to."
"That's okay. We can talk to him later. Now, we have plenty of time for that kind of thing," Bow said with a kind smile.
"We do, don't we?" Her Mom said, turning to look at Adora. "I still can't believe it. We have all the time in the world to get to know ya. And a week ago we had no idea it'd be like this."
"It is hard to wrap my mind around," Adora admitted, "You know, when I was a kid, I daydreamed about this very moment."
"Speakin' of, didya at least end up sumwhere nice? Where they treated ya alright?" Her Dad asked, "I know ya must've been separated from yer friends."
"How'd you know that?"
For the first time since their awkward introduction, he looked away, uncomfortable. "It's how ya carry yerself. It's different from the others." She waited for him to explain further but he stayed quiet. His nervous eyes darted from the ground, to her face, and then back again. She wanted to ask what was so different about how she moved but stopped herself from doing so. For some reason, prying seemed cruel.
"I kept myself goin' for so long by tellin' myself that you were in sumplace better. That you were bein' loved on and cared for," her Mom said, "Is it true? Did ya end up in a better place?"
Not quite. But what could she say? The truth? And devastate her parents? Her Mom held onto this for almost fifty years. How could she tell her?
Here was yet another thing the Horde destroyed.
An interesting sensation, thrumming and threatening to boot all rational thought, licked her insides with animalistic flame. The image of her slicing up and crumpling a Horde building ran through her mind. A retroactive, ultimately useless vision that held her attention. If the Fright Zone still existed, she could've done that. Made it fall. Made the metal squeal beneath steel and fist.
She glanced over at Catra, needing help. She couldn't tell this part of her story, though she'd done it a thousand times. But that was the wrong version, wasn't it? It missed some stuff. She'd sanitized and repackaged it. The experience was akin to a military school, she'd explain. It's where I'd learned to be a soldier, she'd say. But how to explain that it didn't so much as teach her how to be a soldier, as much as it made her one. Broke her bones and repositioned her so she'd fit the mold better. And she fit so well. And then she stayed that way. Still a soldier, thirty years later.
Fingers slid over hers and then folded over her hand. She glanced up from where she stared at the ground to find Catra looking at her, so concerned it made her feel light-headed. She took stock of her friend's faces; they looked the same. And if they looked like that, she couldn't quite bring herself to assess her parents. How did she come unprepared for this line of questioning? Of course, of course they'd ask. How could they not? And by being unprepared, she'd caused everyone to hurt, to know that things actually weren't alright in the Horde.
In the silence, where she meant to say something, she ended up saying everything. She hadn't gone somewhere better. That much was now crystal clear to everyone. 'What happened?' would be someone's next question. 'I'd like to know as well,' was what she would say.
Catra pulled her chair closer to hers and wrapped an arm around Adora's shoulders. Adora leaned into her instinctively and got enough courage to look at her parents. Strangely, they rotated between two states: flicking their eyes back and forth between her and Catra, and having the deep horror of Adora's silence settle into their features, making them look even older.
"We were taken in by a group called the Horde," Catra began, her arm tightening around Adora, "I lost my parents, too, and they took in a lot of orphans. We were taught how to read and write and do math. As well as strategy and tactics. It was a military school basically and we actually received an excellent education. The people who taught, who ran it, well, they could've been better. They probably shouldn't have been around children, in all honesty. Adora was there for eighteen years. She was a great student and an even better friend."
That just wasn't true. She'd been an awful friend and whatever else she was to Catra. Now she wanted to stand up, promise to come see them another day, go home, and hug their kids.
Her Mom nodded but remained silent. Judging by her face, she knew some awful truths lay in the spaces between Catra's words, in the things not said.
"And ya two are….?" Her Dad asked.
"Catra's my wife." Adora sunk deeper into her. "We've been married almost twenty years now and we've been together–" She did the math quickly. "-Twenty-seven years."
This breathed life back into the moment, into her parents. They both smiled ear-to-ear and stood up. Her Mom reached out both arms, causing both her and Catra to stand instinctively. She hugged both of them before her Dad joined and they were all sandwiched together. It felt nice. It felt like a...like a family.
"I gained two daughters today. I may be the happiest woman 'live." Her Mom's tears started all over again and she may have seen a tear or two cascade down Catra's face. "Two wonderful, precious daughters."
"I feel the same, I feel the same," her Dad said. Catra definitely sniffled at that. It was good they moved away from the Horde and into safer territory. More hugging and less talking suited her in almost every situation.
They all retook their seats after a bit, but the beaming smiles stayed on her parent's faces. The need to bolt lingered but its intensity dimmed considerably, allowing her to sit still and pay attention.
"So, how'd ya two meet? Did I hearya mention ya were in the Horde together?" Her Dad asked. So much for safe.
Luckily, Catra took control once more. "Yes, we've known each other for as long as I can remember. My first memory is of Adora leaping on me and accidently kicking me in the face. She was a big clumsy brute back then."
"Still is," Glimmer added, "She accidently kicked Brick in the face last week."
"Pretty much every week, actually," Brick said.
"All this is telling me is that I should kick you in the face on purpose," Adora said, narrowing her eyes at Brick.
"I feel there may be a more constructive lesson to be learned," Bow said, "Perhaps one about not regularly concussing the future king."
"But I can do it semi-regularly?" This earned her a glare from everyone, even sweet Bow. "Just to clarify?"
"Ya'll jus' seem delightful," her Dad mercifully interrupted, "I can tell how much love ya'll have for one another. Friendships like yers are such a gift. I'm so glad ya found each other."
"Me too," Adora said with a smile, "We make each other better."
"Adora's about to tell you about how great we are and how lucky she is to know us. Trust me, that's the kind of person she is. But nothing about herself. So I'll get the ball rolling," Glimmer said, "I have good news for you two. Great news. Your daughter is an amazing person. And it's been a privilege to know her all these years. I can always, always rely on Adora. We all can. I wish I could begin to explain what she means to me, who she is. But it's hard to put into words. So, I'll just say that I am so looking forward to both of you getting to know her and vice versa."
"Thank ya, Your Majesty," her Dad said, "That means a lot to us." He put his arm around her Mom, almost mirroring the position that she and Catra were in.
"You got a good one. No doubt about that," Catra said, "She may be a big, magical brute but there's no one like her in the whole universe. I wouldn't trade our life together for anything."
"Me neither."
"Magical?" Her Mom leaned forward in her seat. "I thought when ya...when ya left that ya'd lost yer magic. I mean, ya weren't gettin' it from Eternia anymore."
"Not from Eternia, no. But I'm Etheria's She-Ra." Adora put out a hand and her sword's hilt landed in her palm with a satisfying thud. She turned to look back at her parents, expecting awe. Instead they flinched away and broke eye contact. "Spirits, sorry. I can make it go–" She fumbled with the sword a little, almost dropping it before letting it disappear once more.
"Don't be sorry now," her Mom said, still not making eye contact, "It's not yer fault. It's jus' that...that ya looked like Queen Evangeline. Her eyes look the same when she's the Imperator. Glowing and blue, I mean. And we saw sum of what she did. It's hard to forget that kinda thing."
"If I may," Bow said, "What happened?"
"Accordin' to Eternian law, the parents of the Imperator must live in the castle and be taken care of. We're supposed to live a life of luxury. As is customary." Her Mom held up her gnarled hands. "It didn't quite work out like that. When ya left, we were permitted to stay. Queen Beatrice thought she'd anger the gods if we were kicked out. And things were okay. As okay as they could be given what happened. But then the Queen died and King Elric took over."
"Hannah," her Dad said sharply, scanning the camp.
A look passed between her parents before her Mom continued, "Anyways, we still lived in the castle when the coup happened. We weren't directly targeted, thank the gods. But we were the King's wards and we thought we might get killed for that. So we escaped with the others. And eventually we came through the portal with 'em."
"Why would the Queen kill you because you were a ward? You didn't have a position in the government, did you?" Catra asked.
"Queen Evangeline, she's a mean sumbitch. And I mean that," her Dad said, "She cut through people we've known fur thirty years like they were nothin'. We couldn't know for sure she'd kill us, but I'd bet good money she'd want the parents of the previous Imperator dead. So we ran. Can ya blame us?"
"No, no," Catra held up her hands, eyes wide, "I meant no offense. I'm just trying to better understand the situation on Eternia."
"It's bad. There's sumthin' wrong with that woman. She actually cut people in half. Literally in half." Adora shifted around in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable no matter the position.
Out of habit she checked her watch...Aaaand they were already ten minutes late to pick up Reyna and Finn. "I'm so sorry to interrupt but we gotta go pick up the kids." She stood up from Catra's grip a little too quickly. Her words a little too clipped. Why couldn't she pull it together for this? Why couldn't she be less awkward?
Catra gently pulled Adora's arm towards her, checking the time for herself. "Oh, you're right. We are already very late. But let's–"
"Kids?" Her Mom's eyes were big as saucers and her Dad covered his open mouth with his hand. Damn. How could they have forgotten to mention the kids? Guess they were too busy mentioning everything else. "Ya...ya have kids?"
"Ya, we do," Adora said, "Two. They're amazing. We have Finn, who's twelve, and Reyna, who's six. We just love them to bits and pieces."
"They're pretty great," Catra said while standing and snaking an arm around Adora's waist. "They take after Adora." She looked over, a little shocked and expecting an accompanying one-liner, but Catra didn't say anything else.
"Well, they're way too awesome to be taking after you, that's for sure," Brick said. At least someone had a one-liner. Instead of saying anything, Catra half-heartedly barred her fangs at him.
"So we have gran'kids? Two of 'em?"
Adora nodded slowly, appreciating how much this information would mean if she were in her parent's shoes. "Yes, you do."
Both of her parents rushed forward and took her and Catra's empty hands in theirs. Fresh tears ran down their faces and their bloodshot eyes grew redder. "Praise the gods. They've truly blessed us."
"When can we meet 'em? Soon? And what sorts of things do they like? We'll bring 'em something."
"How about we have dinner the day after tomorrow and you can meet them then?" Catra suggested. "Is that good with you?" Catra turned her attention to Adora knowing full well that she didn't have anything scheduled. This was her out if she wanted. And disturbingly, she contemplated taking it. She could put this off again. She could pack away all these new thoughts and feelings for another day. And she could be a coward. Something she'd never been. But she could be that person right now.
But this wasn't just about her. Catra seemed like she genuinely wanted to be a family. And Finn and Reyna deserved to know their grandparents. "Ya, my evening is free," Adora said, "Does that work with you guys?"
"Oh, yes. Absolutely. We'll be there."
After saying goodbye to her parents, all five walked back to where they'd tied their horses. Nobody said anything, an odd tension making them uncharacteristically silent. If she was an outside observer, she'd guess someone had died. But why? She should've been happy, they all should've been. And she was, deep inside, but it all felt like something that happened to another person. While talking to them, she'd felt herself clawing out of her skin, leaving while still getting credit for sitting there. Still no reason why.
"Dammit, Adora, why are you so fucking awkward?" Brick said. He meant it as a joke, she knew by his tone. And he liked to rib and make fun of her. Which was fine and even fun most of the time. Just not this time. This time hit a little too close to home.
Catra looked at her face for a second before she whipped around. "Brick, seriously? You think right now is a good time to be an asshole? You need to apologize."
"I was just joking. Adora can take it." He nudged her with his shoulder but his features fell when they made eye contact. Her face must've been betraying her again.
"Part of being the King is knowing when you've made a mistake and owning up to it," Bow said, "Like, perhaps, right now. I think you owe Adora an apology."
"I am sorry," Brick said, "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't realize you're...I just thought you were happy to meet your parents."
"I am. I really am," she said while mounting Swift Wind. "I don't want to give the impression that I'm not. I mean, how many people have wished for an outcome like this and never gotten it? Really, I'm so grateful. But it's more complicated than I'd hoped."
"You didn't like them?" Swift Wind said.
"No, no. I did. They seem like lovely people. But…" How to make them understand? How to make herself understand? "...Right now is a very strange time in my life."
"What does that mean?" Glimmer asked.
If there ever was a time for complete honesty, it was now. "The Horde is all I can think about recently. It's all I dream about. And I don't even know why. Or maybe I do? I don't know. I just keep thinking–what would've happened if that portal never opened? If I'd stayed with my parents on Eternia? Would things have been different for me? For everyone?"
"Different how?" Glimmer said. She sounded defensive and Adora had said too much. Was she thinking about their Heart of Etheria fight? When she said that Adora made everything worse? Because now Adora was. But she wasn't mad. In fact, that was kind of her point. Things would be different if she were still on Eternia, if she'd lived with her parents. Maybe to everyone's benefit.
But if she said this aloud, they would all likely start arguing–trying to reassure, trying to shift her perspective. She'd appreciate their efforts and ultimately feel worse because they hadn't changed anything. Because at the end of the day, the objective facts were still there. Someone else was supposed to be She-Ra and maybe that person was better suited to it. Someone else, who probably hadn't come from the Horde, would step into her shoes and be free of all the things that held Adora back. And maybe they'd fill the gaps in everyone's lives better than she ever could.
Instead of saying this, she decided on something easier but no less truthful. "It's no secret that the Horde wasn't the most nurturing place. As it turns out, raising people to be soldiers from a young age isn't conducive to their development. So I know that. And I know what it's done to me. I look at my parents and I see two people who would've loved me with everything they had. And I can't help but feel a little resentful, you know? Not against them, just the circumstances." She sighed. "They were just a portal away."
"Yeesh," Swift Wind said, "That does sound complicated."
"No joking there."
"I don't think we say it enough, but fuck Light Hope. I can't believe that holographic fucker did that," Catra said, "And for the record, I think you have every right to feel conflicted. I think I'd be feeling the same way if I were in your shoes."
Adora nodded. "I thought you'd understand." If anyone could understand the strange circumstances and accompanying confusion that led to Shadow Weaver, the Horde, and finding her parents fifty years later, it would be Catra.
"What did you mean when you said you know what the Horde did to you?" Bow asked, open and curious. Not meaning anything by it. Still, Adora's chest tightened and she didn't want to be on this ride anymore. An afternoon nap would definitely be required after this.
'Haven't you noticed,' she wanted to say, 'that I'm never quite who anyone needs? I never quite get it right?' She didn't say it, however; she knew better. None of them would get it. So what could she say? The breeze blew across the field and swept into the woods, rustling the leaves. It was the only sound and it emphasized her lack of words, she knew. "The Horde made me who I am today, for better or worse."
"I think you're the person you are despite the Horde not because of it," Catra said.
"Who's to say? I never had a chance to find that out. And I never will."
"Your Majesties, Princesses, Prince," the King's voice interrupted from behind them. Great. Just what she needed. "I heard you were in camp and I'd hoped to catch you before you left."
Adora swung around Swift Wind as the rest of the group did the same. She didn't need to see Catra to know she bristled. "I think that's close enough, Your Majesty," Brick said, voice tight. His distaste for the King fighting his well-trained politeness.
"Yes, yes. Of course." To his slight credit, the King did look apologetic. "I am sorry for the way I behaved, Princess Adora. It was unbecoming conduct of a King."
"I believe it was unbecoming of anyone, sir," Adora said, not willing to let him off the hook that easily. "And now that you know that I'm a Princess and She-Ra, you're asking for forgiveness? What if I was a translator and nothing more?"
"Princess or not, I should not have behaved that way. That much is true. I come offering an idea, perhaps one that can offer some reconciliation..." He trailed off, eyes shifting between all five of them.
"Go on," Glimmer ordered.
"We have a tradition on Eternia. A festival of sorts. My people need some hope, need some fun. And yours need to meet us. To better understand us. So I was thinking we could jointly host this event and have it be a sort of mingling of our cultures. A reintroduction of our peoples would be my aim."
"What's this event called?" Bow said.
"Jousting."