These Violent Delights

by thelogladyslog

Adora has the perfect life-the perfect wife, the perfect kids, the perfect job. So why does she keep getting the feeling that something's wrong? The trees aren't where they're supposed to be in the Whispering Woods, the animals aren't acting right, even she isn't quite feeling her usual self. But if anyone can figure out the problem, it's Adora.

14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Dinner Guests

Nervous was a gross understatement. She was sweaty. She felt sweaty. Not a new sensation necessarily, but way more intense than usual. They'd been preparing their cottage for the whole day, airing it out after being locked up for weeks. All four decided it would be the ideal place to host her parents rather than the castle. And it felt wonderful to be home. Everyone kept saying it, even Reyna, who'd seemed the happiest with the castle arrangement.

On top of some cleaning, they'd also been cooking all day. Adora's famous roast and gravy had been a tremendous effort, doubling in difficulty because both kids wanted to help. Somehow, she'd been able to pull it off despite being covered in flour and dutifully covering everyone else. Catra started it by smattering flour across Adora's face and it escalated from there. By the time everything was cooked, all four were pretty much dusted from head-to-toe.

After an intermission to take a shower and get cleaned up, they'd had a conversation with Reyna in an effort to prevent her completely innocent, but wildly inappropriate comments that sometimes spilled out. She was one hundred percent sure to comment on Adora's parent's accent and perhaps inadvertently offend them. Catra was kind and provided a crystal-clear explanation as to why that wasn't appropriate. Still, she expected the worst. Something along the lines of 'Why do you sound so weird?' was almost certainly going to come out. She mentally prepared for that, along with everything else.

"I saved some pictures of us when we were little. When we were dissolving the Horde, I found them in some files, put them away, and then I pretty much forgot about them. And I was wondering if you'd like to show them to your parents. So they can see what you looked like as a kid," Catra asked. They were in their room, putting on the final touches to their outfits. Nothing fancy but they upgraded a little from their casual wear.

"Oh, ya. Good idea."

Catra walked up to her, distracting her from her selection of rings. She rested both hands against Adora's chest and looked up. "I know the Horde's been a sore subject lately," she said in a low voice, "And I don't want the pictures to bring up anything. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Adora smiled and hugged her closer. "For sure. Don't worry about me."

"Too late." She laid her head on Adora's chest and curled her tail around a leg. Adora pressed a few kisses to the top of her head. "I'll field any question you want me to. Just look a little panicked and I'll take over."

"Mmmhhhmmm, mmhhhm. Quick little question about that. Don't I always look panicked?" Adora asked.

"...Well, shit."

Movement by their door caught her eye and she glanced up in time to see Finn stride into their room. "Your mom and dad are here and—Ewww, gross."

Catra stepped back a few feet and crossed her arms. "Just be happy we love each other, kid. Not everyone's parents do."

"Ya, ya," they said while turning and flicking their tail dismissively, "Speaking of which, your parents just got here so you guys better pull it together." It wasn't bad advice, she did actually need to pull it together.

After they listened to Finn pad back down the hall, Catra said, "Brat cat."

"I wonder where they get that from?"

"I wouldn't know." Catra turned towards her with a slight grin. "And if you need help, look calm. I'll immediately know that something's wrong."

"Deal."

They walked out together to find Reyna pressed up against the window closest to the front door. Her ears smashed up against the glass and her breath fogged it up, obscuring any view of outside. "Are they here? Can you see them?" She yelled.

"Yup, they're walking up right now," Finn said.

Adora swung the door open but before she could greet them, Reyna shot out and only barely put the brakes on before hitting them. Hitting her eighty-year-old parents. Her soul temporarily left as she contemplated the awful consequences that almost played out. Catra chased her out and put her hands on Reyna's shoulders, keeping her in place. They'd covered everything except barreling straight into very fragile people. Somehow they'd left that out.

"Hannah, Fisher, I'm so sorry about that. She is just very, very excited to meet you. Aren't you Reyns?" Catra said.

"Yes," she said while sticking her hand out, "My name is Reyna and I'm six-years-old. Pleased to meet you." Well, at least she had that training down.

Her dad took her hand and shook it before bowing. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Reyna."

Her mom also bowed and said, "Lady Reyna, I've heard so much about ya."

Reyna bounced up and down in her shoes. Her dress twirled around as she squirmed around, but Catra kept her firmly on the ground. "No one's ever bowed to me before. Only to Mom and Mommy."

"Really?" Hannah asked, cocking her head in what seemed like genuine confusion.

"Well, let me jus' say that I am honored to be the first," her dad said, "It's not everyday that ya get to bow for a fine Lady such as yerself."

Reyna giggled about the same time Adora recovered her senses enough to walk out behind them. Finn stayed close by her side and remained silent as they approached. Adora placed one hand on Catra's shoulder and the other across Finn's back. Anchoring them or herself, she couldn't quite decide.

"And ya must be Master Finn. Such a handsome young fellow," her mom said, smiling that reassuring smile of hers. She'd only seen it a few times, but Adora was becoming quite partial to it. She then bowed, which had the effect of freezing Finn.

"Master Finn, an honor and a pleasure," her dad said while also bowing. So much bowing. Finn gave her a sideways glance, clearly confused as to the high level of formality. Truth be told, she felt a little confused about the whole thing as well.

Finn fiddled with their bowtie before answering, "It's so nice to meet you both. I've been looking forward to this all weekend." Despite Finn's obvious anxiety, their words flowed smoothly and carried an air of...properness.

"They really have," Catra said, "They've been talking about it for days. We've been trying to decide between three different bow ties."

"This one suits ya," her dad said, "It matches yer blond hair so well." He squinted and added, "Wow, ya look jus' like yer mom."

"Which one?" Finn asked.

Her dad looked between her and Catra for a few seconds before laughing. "Both, I s'pose. I was thinkin' more about yer Mama Adora with yer hair and eyes. But ya look like yer Mama Catra too."

"What about me?" Reyna asked, hands on her hips and tail wiggling impatiently.

"Well, ya look like yer mamas too. And I can see ya inherited summa their same fiery-ness."

Reyna smiled wide at that and puffed her chest out. "Thanks, grandpa." Adora's heart stuttered at the comment. She'd said it so nonchalantly that Adora's brain had to replay the whole thing twice. Grandpa. Grandpa.

"That's our kids," Catra said, wrapping an arm around Reyna's front, "The best of both of us." Feeling like she had to do something, Adora gripped Finn's shoulder and squeezed. They glanced up at her, but she couldn't figure out their expression.

"I like to think we got none of the bad traits," Finn said, "Like the puns. Spirits, the puns." They shuddered, obviously and dramatically.

"Puns?" Her Mom asked.

"Oh, I got this," Adora said. Finn groaned and a sparkle of delight bloomed in her chest, making her smile. "You know why I don't trust stairs?"

"Why?" Her dad asked, still not quite understanding.

"They're always up to something. Heh, get it?" Reyna squealed with laughter, Finn muttered something under their breath, Catra rolled her eyes, and her parents grinned. An effective pun by anyone's measure.

Finn dragged a hand across their face and said, "I don't wanna live in this house anymore."

"Good thing we're living at the castle, then," Catra said, catching the full brunt of Finn's disapproving look.

"Why at the castle?" Her mom asked, "This place seems perfectly nice."

"Now that is an interesting story. Come on in," Adora said, sweeping her arm towards the door, "And we'll tell you all about it."

A few hours later, when everyone was stuffed and pleasantly acquainted, they retired to the living room. Reyna sat in Catra's lap while Finny sat between Adora and Catra. Her parents sat on the other couch, their hands folded politely in their laps and their spines as straight as they'd get.

"Well, I have some news of my own," Finn started, scratching the back of their neck, "I, uhh, got into the play. I got a part."

With her free hand, Catra gave them a side hug and said, "That's great news! Which part? The dashing hero?"

"The villain, actually. I hear they have more fun. The actors, I mean. Playing the villain is more fun. That's what I hear at least."

Thinking back on things, it did seem like the villains had more fun, actors or not. The moral high road tended to be a bit serious and often clashed with anything resembling fun. She certainly didn't remember having much fun.

"Congrats, Finny. You've earned it. You've been practicing that audition for weeks." Adora brought her hand up from the back of the couch and tousled their hair. "Now, we'll have to practice sword fighting every day."

"Ya," they said, looking up at her with a smile, "And the villain, Discord, is a super interesting character. He thinks he's in the right. That he's doing the right thing. He's not just evil because he feels like it."

"Those are the worst kind," Adora said. She'd fought so many people over the years and, yet, Horde Prime's conviction to his cause stood out. As did her own. She still remembered her dedication to the Horde, how she'd believed down to her core they were doing the right thing. How she would've fought for the Horde if called upon. How easily the arguments for moral righteousness had been twisted and how she'd believed them. "And maybe the most sympathetic."

"Oh, I agree," Finn said, "I can't wait to dig into it. And since you guys were in the Evil Horde, maybe you can give me a few pointers." Giving their kids advice on how to be evil was a new one. That definitely wasn't mentioned in any parenting book.

She looked at Catra, hopelessly lost while trying to find the right words. "Sure, whatever you need from us," Catra said, "I'm just so happy you got in. You'll do amazing." Catra hugged them again while her eyes twinkled with affection. She was such a good mom. For what felt like the millionth time, Adora thanked the Spirits that she co-parented with Catra.

"Congratulations. That's great news," her dad said, "But I'm confused about what ya said about the Evil Horde. I thought they were jus' called the Horde."

"So," Catra started, adjusting her grip on Reyna a bit, "When we were in the Horde, we called it the Horde. But when we got out, everyone else called it the Evil Horde and that's pretty descriptively accurate. So we started calling it that, too." She leaned towards the table while still holding a now yawning Reyna. "And speaking of the Evil Horde, we have some pictures here that we thought you might be interested in seeing." She grabbed the stack of pictures and started handing them to Adora to hand to her parents.

"I wanna see," Reyna said.

"What do we say?" Adora asked.

"Please."

"Very good." She handed back the photos for Reyna's approval process.

"Okay," Catra said, holding a photo up and showing everyone like she'd done with picture books, "This one is from when we were about your age, Reyns. We were waiting our turn for instructions."

"What kind of instructions?"

Adora took one look at the photo and knew they'd been geared for hand-to-hand combat. Six year olds training to be soldiers for real. Not the fun training she did with the kids. The kind where you got screamed in the face and told to repeat a maneuver until you got it right and you were so overworked, you threw up.

"Physical fitness," Catra answered, not a hint of the truth in her tone.

"Wow, I can't believe you guys were together back then. I thought you'd met when you were teens or something," Finn said.

"Oh no," Catra said, "We met when we were really young. My first memory is of mom. She was my best friend. Still is." At that, Adora draped her arm across the back of the couch and rested her hand on Catra's shoulder. She rubbed her thumb up and down as soothingly as possible, hoping to convey that she felt the same.

"Better not tell Glimmer and Bow that," Finn said.

"No kidding," Catra said, "Be careful with those, okay?" She said to Reyna before planting a kiss on her forehead. "These are our only copies and they're the only pictures we have as kids."

"I'm being careful." Reyna's ears swiveled sideways, annoyed. She did retract her nails at least. Although, would damaging the pictures be such a loss?

"Alright, thank you." Catra raised the next photo to show everyone. "And this is proof that mom's annoyed me my whole life."

Adora peered closer and laughed at the image of her lifting Catra off the ground. Her younger self's smile spread from ear-to-ear while Catra looked ready to claw Adora's face off. If she had to guess, they were around nine. Which meant things had been bad for a while. But they still had each other. Others weren't so lucky; she had to remember that. "Awww, you thought it was funny. I remember how much you laughed. That's why I kept picking you up. You were just looking grumpy for the photo but you were actually having fun."

"Are you accusing me of being dramatic?" Catra arched an eyebrow.

"I would never dream of such a thing," Adora said, winking. She peered down at the photo, now in Finn's hands. Their happy faces didn't jump out as much, she just saw Catra's bandaged hand. Her tiny hand wrapped in white cloth. What was it that time? Mouthing off? Training accident? And what was the cost of this picture? Who took it? Did they yell at her and Catra right after? Hit Catra and make Adora watch?

Finn passed it to her and then she handed it over to her parents. Reluctant hands acting as an extension of a reluctant heart. The idea of sharing seemed therapeutic, the actual sharing not so much. It felt real. That was the problem. With her kids and parents looking, she'd been seen. Catra was always looking and that was fine, normal even. But this was something else. Something unfurling from its compartment and crawling into the rest of her life.

"Ya look like a clone of yer Mama Catra when she was a little girl," her Dad said, raising his eyes to Reyna, "I'm not sure I'd be able to tell ya apart if ya were in the same room."

Adora's heart froze, and she stared at Catra. Waiting for the reaction to the word 'clone.' Waiting for the uncomfortable shiver and the downcast eyes. The hand on the back of her neck. But Catra just hugged Reyna even tighter and did a series of rapid-fire kisses to her face, eliciting that sweet giggle. Catra acted like she hadn't noticed the word and maybe she hadn't.

"Moooooom," Reyna chastised.

"What? I can't kiss my mini-me?"

"Not in front of grandma and grandpa." Reyna tried to whisper this, but it was the world's loudest whisper and her parents' mouths curved in amusement.

And here she thought that Reyna would be the problem. She feared her daughter would say something or be off-put and accidentally rude. Instead she was taking Adora's parents in stride, easily accepting them into her life. How simply they'd become grandma and grandpa, and that was that. Adora wished she had the same ability, the same effortless acceptance. And why didn't she? Why didn't she?

"And here's an interesting one. It's Adora's photo ID picture from every year." Catra carefully held up a long piece of paper with about fifteen or so headshots of Adora. "There aren't many just by herself. And this one was part of her official Horde record. I found it in this thick file with a bunch of other stuff, mostly just paperwork. It was quite a find. You can really see how she changed over the years." Catra brought it down for Reyna and combed her hair while Reyna painstakingly looked at each and every picture.

"Wow, you used to be so pretty," Reyna said, amazement ringing loud and clear. So she really was just hideous these days, huh?

Catra looked over, clearly fighting laughter. Finn just laughed. "Thanks so much," Adora replied.

Reyna, not quite understanding sarcasm just yet, said a simple, "You're welcome."

Adora looked at the pictures as much as possible from a distance of a few feet. She really had been pretty, beautiful even. She remembered, somehow, impossibly, how much trouble that had caused. How much pain. How pretty had been weaponized against her.

She was just a kid. Pretty had been turned around on her as an adult and she'd seen it for what it was. That wasn't the case as a child. It was just another reason to be special. Another nice word to manipulate her. A shiver ran through her body when she remembered how she'd said it, whispered it into Adora's ear. Like it was normal. Like it made things okay.

She shook her head. Her parents, Catra, her kids. They had to be front and center right now. Nothing else.

When the headshots made their way to Adora, she wordlessly gave them over to her parents. Like everyone else, they seemed thrilled. Taking their time to look at each year. Would they notice, as she did, how her face dimmed with each passing year? How her eyes looked bright when she was six and sunken by the time she'd turned fifteen? True, she'd grown tall and strong and beautiful. But she could see the wear and tear. The changes subtle, perhaps, but there—the slow degradation of self (if there was much self to begin with), the flicker of childlike wonder getting beaten out of Catra and rung from Adora by extension, the weight of duty shackling itself to her feet. Every picture telling the story of how she'd lost something integral and vital and alive. Something gone forever. Something unrecoverable.

And all these yearly changes neatly lined up and cataloged reminded her how she'd been able to run. Sometimes she wondered how she'd been able to leave when Catra couldn't. She looked at these pictures and remembered why, if only for a moment.

"Awww, look at ya with yer front tooth missing," her dad said, glancing up with a goofy grin. Now she knew who she got that from.

"Believe it or not, that one came out naturally," Adora said.

"Did the other ones come out not naturally?" Finn asked.

"We were a bunch of kids thrown together with minimum supervision, we found the stupidest ways to do...everything. I remember one time—" Catra cleared her throat, causing her story about a stubborn tooth, a string, and a door to die on her lips. To her credit, she did know better than to mention the hammer incident. "—I remember one time when I went to the dentist for a toothache and everything went perfectly and was fine. The end." She'd smashed her face into a door while they were sledding down a staircase and needed an emergency appointment. One tooth was still chipped to this very day.

"That's a lame story," Finn said. She liked lame. When things were predictable and routine and boring. They had nothing close to a lame childhood and that was still somehow a problem.

"It is. But you know what? Lame is underrated."

Finn gave her a weird look and started to open their mouth before Catra said, "Alright. And moving on. Next up is a picture of our squad. There's Lonnie, Kyle, Rogelio, me, and mommy. Mommy was our squad leader. She's holding the flag, see?"

"Seeing you in Horde armour and holding a Horde flag is kinda disturbing, not gonna lie," Finn said.

"I get it, trust me," Adora said. They looked around fifteen or sixteen in the picture. Adora knelt in front of everyone else, stretching the flag between her gloved hands. Red wings on black fabric. She'd held it with pride. With a smile.

"Well, I like your current uniforms better," Reyna declared, "That green is yucky."

"Ya, this is definitely an aesthetic but it's not yours."

"Thanks, kiddos."

"If I may ask, how did ya get out of the Evil Horde?" her mom asked. Melog, who'd been snoozing away on the living room floor, raised their head at this question.

"That is a long, long story," Adora said, "And someday, I'll tell it to you. But the gist is that I saw the Horde for what it was. And I wouldn't participate anymore. The blindfold fell off and the truth became clear. The Horde wasn't what I thought it was. And I'm not like that."

"Like what?" Her mom said.

Well, for one, she wouldn't burn civilian villages. Wouldn't taze innocents. But how to put this delicately? "I'm not evil. I won't commit it and I won't help those that do." On purpose. Because she'd actually helped quite a few different people and entities be evil. Enabled was the right word. But that was when she had more power than experience. Things were different now.

"It's nice that ya got the choice."

Now it was Adora's turn to be confused. "What do you mean?"

"Ya make it sound so easy. So black and white. This is good, this is evil. It's hard to know what's right and even harder to leave. We peasants don't get choices like that, ya know?"

"I understand the complexity, I really do. I'm making everything sound so clear cut when it was actually far from it." Adora massaged her temples. If only they knew the half of it. "But I do think we all get choices like that. And yes, it helped that I'm She-Ra. The Rebellion was more welcoming than they would've probably been otherwise. I'm not trying to dismiss that advantage. But I would've left anyway, even if I wasn't She-Ra. If I was just a simple cadet or even a Force Captain, I would've realized sooner or later that things weren't right."

"Then yer better than most," her mom said, "I knew what Evangeline was doing to blanks. Knew for months. But it didn't impact us so I didn't care. Until it did. Then it was too late and the time to fight had come and gone. I guess my point is—I admire ya for leaving when ya saw what was happening. I'm glad ya weren't like us."

She knew her mom couldn't possibly mean her words the way Adora was internalizing them. She knew there was no intention of further separation. Knew she didn't mean to draw attention to the fact that they were different from each other, by miles, by oceans. She'd meant it as a compliment—you had the courage, the constitution, the resolve that we lacked. But it felt like a step back, their understanding regarding each other showing its paper-thin make-up.

"Who's Evangeline?" Finn asked.

Before anyone else could react, Catra was on it. "She's an Eternian and she's been causing some problems. That's why we have our Eternian guests at the camp. We don't know much about the situation but we're still investigating." Perfect answer. Vague but truthful. She squeezed Catra's shoulder, hoping to convey her approval.

"So she's a bad guy?" Reyna said, glancing between Catra and then Adora's parents.

"As bad as they get," her mom confirmed, "And you know what's weirder? I used to support her. Blanks gotta bad deal on Eternia. I thought she'd turn that 'round."

"She kinda did," her dad said.

Her mom chewed on her lip. "Not in our favor."

"I wouldn't hold ya breath that any changes will ever be made in our favor."

"What do you mean?" Finn asked, their eyebrows furrowing. Lots of questions from them. Which was good. Really. She wasn't gonna ask many questions, so someone had to.

"We ain't like ya, Master Finn," her dad said, "We ain't royal. Things are different for peasants. And that's just the way it is."

"Oh."

"But that's enough about us," her mom said quickly, "I wanna know more about ya and yer moms. Are there any more pictures of ya two together in the Horde? It just makes my heart so happy that ya had each other. Even if the circumstances coulda been better."

That was putting it mildly. And how could she explain how they had each other until they didn't? How did she explain the fallout, the war between them? The past she couldn't change. The hero she couldn't be. Not for Catra, at least. How did she begin to tell that story?

Why did she agree to this dinner? And was there a polite way to tell them to leave?

"I got lucky," Catra said, "I got so lucky. Having Adora there made all the difference. She made things so much easier."

Did she? The inaction, Adora remembered. The watching too. The hitting, the beatings. Watching, watching. Not doing. How did she make things easier when she let that stuff happen to Catra? The freezing and the electrical shocks. Spirits, the look on Catra's face—the terror, the sadness, the betrayal. And betrayed by who? Shadow Weaver or Adora?

Everyone's eyes were on her, expectant. She'd been asked a question, that much was clear. "I'm sorry, what was the question?"

"Grandma wanted to know if you were She-Ra back then," Reyna said.

"No...Well, maybe. I don't know," Adora said, "I was eighteen when I found the sword and that's when I accessed her. But I don't know if she was always there or not. And I'll be the first to admit that it's kinda strange that I don't know. You see, I'm the first in a thousand years and I don't know everything."

"Yer the first She-Ra in a thousand years? How'd that happen?"

"My predecessor, Mara, broke the line. And I'm restarting it. And because of that, I don't have the same information that the others had. Past She-Ras train the new one. But I didn't have them. Not when I was first learning anyway. I was trained by…." An evil holograph? Where did she even begin with that? "...Someone else. And I wasn't told about these things. Still, to this day, I don't know everything about She-Ra."

She stopped but wanted to keep going. Explain how hard it could be. She had a weight the other She-Ras didn't carry. Not directly anyway. She alone shouldered the expectations of the thousand-year hiatus. After all, the first She-Ra in a thousand years had to be perfect. For herself but more importantly for She-Ra. What other option was there? Even more than that, she represented the continuation, the very existence of She-Ra. How many of her foremothers could say the same? She'd gathered that a successor was a given for all previous She-Ras. They didn't worry about She-Ra like she did. They weren't crushed like she was.

She almost repeated this. Almost told them her admittedly unpleasant truth. Her parents wouldn't get it. Neither would Catra nor the kids. In fact, no one could understand. Through no fault of their own. But still, she was alone in this.

"That sounds complicated," her dad said.

"It is."

"So do ya like being She-Ra?"

"I do. I know I sound ungrateful, but I really do love it and it's such an honor. I'm in a position where I can make a difference, a real difference. That's everything."

"And you can turn into an eight-foot-tall warrior woman with a giant sword and great hair," Finn said, "Let's not forget that."

She laughed and said, "That certainly doesn't hurt."

Both her parents smiled before her mom asked, "So ya had no idea ya were magic when ya were in the Horde?"

"No, not at all. In hindsight, it was pretty obvious. I mean, the way—" Her mind caught up with her words and she slammed her mouth shut. She wasn't ready to tell her parents about Shadow Weaver. Besides, she'd already said enough in front of Finn and Reyna. They were her kids, not her therapists.

"The way?" Finn asked, one eyebrow raising.

"Never mind. That doesn't matter. And to your original question, Catra was, is, how I survived the Horde. We were a team back then. Same as we are now. Maybe we were fighting different battles then but we still have each other's back."

Her mom took a breath before glancing between Finn and Reyna. It seemed like she wanted to ask a question but thought better of it. "Well, I'm so glad that ya found that kinda love. That makes my heart so happy."

"Me too," Adora said. She turned her head to smile at Catra and found her wife already regarding her carefully. That's just how Catra was—always considering Adora, always looking out for her. She was the one more attuned to the family's emotions. She was the glue that held it all together. Just Adora and the kids would've been pure chaos and, honestly, repression and silence. A souvenir from their time in the Horde. Catra navigated them away from those treacherous waters. Not only feeling affection towards all three but also knowing how to show it. Admittedly, a quality that Adora sometimes lacked.

"Me three," Finn said, "I wouldn't be around otherwise." Everyone chuckled, causing Finn to smile widely. They were settled into the couch, lounging backwards and crossing one leg over the other. Relaxed. Finn relaxed. When had that ever happened? Besides herself, Finn was one of the most anxiety ridden people she knew. And here they were, relaxed with grandma and grandpa. Meanwhile, Adora felt so filled with anxiety she could run ten marathons and wage exactly one galactic war.

She looked at the others; they seemed equally at peace. So everyone else was handling this? Everyone else was having fun and enjoying the company of her parents?

Movement caught her eye and she watched Catra bring up another picture. "This is a good one. An action shot of Adora. She was a leader, even back then. And a great tactician. You know, she was at the top of our class."

"Catra was right there with me," Adora pointed out, "We were pretty much unbeatable."

"Well that doesn't surprise me at all," her dad said.

Adora peered over Finn and caught a glimpse of her younger self in mid-yell and furiously pointing towards some unknown training simulation. She looked like she was ordering someone around (probably Kyle), desperately trying to avoid an unsuccessful mission. She was young, maybe about ten but this was when she was getting big. Broadening and getting taller. She filled out so much earlier than any of her peers. She was heads and shoulders above anyone else for a long time. Which she enjoyed. Less fun were the comments, the looks, the leering. She didn't understand all the new attention that started when she was eight or nine or ten. And really, she shouldn't have been confused, shouldn't have wondered at the many adult gazes. She understood that now. Back then it was just disconcerting. Until, of course, it turned normal.

"Is that why the war dragged?" Reyna asked, "Because you two were the best?"

Her heart stuttered and she accidentally let out a weird nose somewhere between a gulp and an inhale. She looked at her hands, which gripped her knees so hard her knuckles turned white.

These pictures were a bad idea. An incredibly bad idea. She thought it'd be alright, distance and time and processing making the Horde a footnote in her story. It wasn't working like that. Maybe had never worked like that and she just never took the time to notice.

She stood, drawing startled looks from everyone, even Reyna. Shit. She needed some excuse for her outburst. "I need to go check on dessert," she announced before fleeing towards the kitchen. In her escape, she caught a glimpse of the next picture and wished she hadn't.

"Why does she need to check on ice cream?" Reyna asked. Adora didn't wait around to hear Catra's answer. Instead, she practically ran into the kitchen and stopped in front of the window that overlooked their backyard.

Despite her best efforts, she did remember the picture. And it was fine on the surface, it was just her and Catra as teens leaning towards each other, their faces too close to be mistaken for any platonic interaction. Catra brought it to her not long after the Horde had been dissolved. It'd been with an IO9, a cadet observational form. She didn't remember most of what it said, only that it contained something like, 'Many have noted, as have I, that Cadet Adora and Cadet Catra are exceptionally close. They share a bed at night and are rarely seen apart. The extent of their relationship is unknown and should be investigated further. Considering Adora's status, further monitoring has been requested."

A little further down the form, Shadow Weaver denied the request. Something that, to this day, neither could figure out. Didn't Shadow Weaver want to know? She had no qualms about violating their privacy before, why was that the line? Thirty years later and they had no answers.

That could be the theme of her life. Why? At one point in time, she'd asked everyone that question. Those who heard rarely thought to answer back.

A familiar heat lapped against the insides of her skull, sending her brain up in flames. Stress. That's what her therapist said the sensation was. A physical manifestation of worry. But that answer always seemed too...easy. It felt like so much more. Somehow both a lockout of herself and flashing, fleeting recognition. Recognizing that things were so bad a fire had to be started to destroy the evidence. To reset. That's what a fire was. A reset. And she needed one badly.

If she could just reframe, maybe she'd like her parents, maybe she could go back in there and look at more pictures and not feel like she was walking those halls again. She should be happy. She should be over at least one moon that her parents were alive and well and wanting a relationship.

"It's so easy with Adora." Catra's voice carried in from the living room. "I've heard people say that marriage is hard work and I suppose that's sometimes true for us. But I don't know. It never feels like hard work. Plenty of other stuff is hard work, but never Adora. We fit together so well. And I'm not just saying that…" Catra went on, the raspy lilt of her voice still floating through the air. Adora braced her arms on either side of the sink and let her head dip forward until her chin touched her chest.

Meeting her parents was supposed to be easy. And fun. She'd wanted this meeting for fifty years, always wanting to know where she'd come from and who her family was. Now they were here, and the time had come. And everyone was ready except her.

"Are you okay?" Catra's hand pressed against Adora's back before she scratched up and down. Adora straightened back up and closed her eyes. So her discomfort hadn't gone unnoticed, she didn't shove it down.

"Where are the kids?" Adora said.

"They're showing their rooms to your parents."

Adora nodded. She planned to reassure Catra that everything was fine, but the truth slipped out without warning. "This is weird. I don't know what I expected but it wasn't this."

"Weird how?"

"You don't think it's weird? That we're here? Explaining all this stuff to my parents. Of all people. Telling them why I left the Horde. What it was like. I hate talking about that stuff, Catra. I'm no good at it. I'm not like you, I can't think so quickly on my feet. And they keep catching me off guard with questions. Questions that, honestly, I should've been prepared for. But I'm not and here we are. I don't know how—It's too much. It's way too much."

Catra leaned back against the counter and loosely held one of Adora's hands. "It's the pictures, isn't it?" Catra held her gaze until Adora looked away. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have brought them out. I'm sorry. I'll go put them away and find some way to get your parents to leave."

"No," Adora said a bit too forcefully. Catra raised her eyebrows but said nothing. "No, it's okay. That's not good for anyone, especially the kids. They're having so much fun with them. I just…I just need some time and then I swear I'll be alright. I'll go check on the animals and get my head on straight."

"Adora…"

"I'm okay. I'll be okay. I just need a break." To seal the deal, she pressed a kiss to Catra's forehead. She was fighting dirty with a move like that but she wanted a pause, not an end to the evening. More for everyone else's sake but still.

"Okay," Catra breathed out, "Take as long as you need. We'll be here."

"Thanks." She kissed her forehead again before turning to leave the kitchen. She could hear the joyful chatter of the kids upstairs as she slipped to the front door. They wouldn't notice her absence for a little while. She might even return and be good to go before they came back downstairs.

She pulled on her coat and stepped into the fading twilight. Immediately, she heard the calls of a Firefinch and its babies, singing to each other, finding each other before the night blanketed the forest. Other animal calls further reassured her that the woods weren't scheming, at least for now. Animals would be silent, waiting, hidden if something stirred, if something watched.

She maneuvered down darkened stairs and through still grass until she reached the barn. Percival let out a soft whinny of greeting as she unlatched the door and she found him and Snowball hanging their heads over their stalls. In secret, she often fed them horsey treats that everyone else was restricted to giving once a day. In recognition of this ritual, both horse and pony pricked their ears at her and tracked her every move. After giving both a carrot-flavored treat, she rubbed Percival's velvety nose and smoothed out his forelock.

This was nice and this was fine. Their horses weren't better company than her parents, but she sure did enjoy their equine presence a lot more. It all made sense in here. She gave them treats, they loved her. She didn't have to choke out answers about the Horde and they didn't expect her to. She didn't see them and feel a seedling of anger. Or like she wanted to know everything and nothing about them. Easy, easy, easy.

"What am I doing?" Adora muttered as she sat on a nearby bucket. She really should be back in the house, enjoying her family. But how could she when someone was bound to ask about Shadow Weaver? And then, worst of all, how did she explain that, despite everything, some part of her still loved Shadow Weaver? That she was still more of a parent to her than they were. That had always been hard to reckon with. In therapy, she'd skirted away from that truth as long as possible. Yes, she'd been a vile abuser. Yes, she did shower Adora with affection. Yes, Adora did everything to earn her praise. Yes, she did—

Adora stood and began pacing back and forth. Counted her steps. One, two, three...Fifty seven steps between the first barn post on the eastern side and the last barn post on the western side. Counting made things easier, it gave her a focus that wasn't memories. Like when Shadow Weaver…

She shook her head. "Come on, again. One, two…" If anyone looked in a window right now, they'd think she was crazy with the pacing and wild gesturing. They'd think she was crazy if they knew the reasons why she'd left the house.

Why couldn't she be that person? The one who took everything in stride and all the worries in the world just flowed seamlessly off her back. Were other She-Ras like that? Probably. They would've had no problem with all this. They would've handled the situation with grace and dignity, known what to say, what to do. But Adora just wasn't like that. And everyone paid the price.

Sometimes she thought of herself as the Almost Hero. So close to being who she needed to be and yet falling short of every expectation. Her parents were just another example of this. It was almost great with them, she almost liked them. But she hadn't quite gotten there.

And they'd poisoned something in her, by virtue of not being there, by virtue of being victims themselves. Her wellspring of hope tainted, its taste a little bit off. Her parents' greatest gift to her was simple: hope was great until it wasn't. That at some point, hope turned into its own cage. A place she knew well. How many times had she looked out some Fright Zone window and hoped that her parents would come? How many times had she looked at Catra and hoped their situation would improve? How many days ended the same—with no one coming to save them? This she could answer. It was eighteen years worth of days.

She checked her watch; the time she could reasonably be in the barn for dwindled. Someone would wonder, some kid would loudly comment on her absence. She sighed and walked towards the door. Ready or not, she had to go back in.

After shutting the barn for the night, she patted her jacket for a cigarette. Spirits, did she need one. Or at least, she needed one for later. She knew, she just knew, that everyone would smell it on her and lose it. So she'd have to do it in secret, at night, and—

Movement caught her eye, and she jerked her head up in time to see a figure walking slowly towards the house, their face cloaked in shadow. Who was this? What did they want? She summoned the sword and felt its familiar weight. She gripped it tighter and advanced forward. "Who goes there?" She growled. If they could breach her magical defenses, no telling what they were capable of.

"I'm here for dinner," a deep voice responded. In the poor lighting, she could only make out a tall shape with their hands raised. "My parents told me to come here."

As she got closer, familiar features began to form. Neatly trimmed, short strawberry blond hair and a matching red beard gave him away. No wonder he breached her magical barrier, he was human. And her brother. "Red? It's so good to meet you finally. I'm Adora."

He glanced down at the Sword of Protection, prompting her to send it away. Still, his eyes lingered on her hand, where she'd curled her fingers around its hilt. "They tell me you're She-Ra."

"I am."

"They tell me you're my sister."

"I am."

At this, he finally looked up. Slowly, he said, "I almost didn't come tonight. I hope I didn't miss everything."

If anyone was missing anything, it was her. His coldness didn't match her parents' open arms and warmth. No smile graced his face, no affection lit his eyes. What could've offended him? She came up blank. "No, my parents—our parents—are still here. With my wife and kids. There's still plenty happening."

"Why are you out here then?"

Why indeed? "Just closing the barn up for the night."

He nodded. "Did I miss dinner?" A polite ask and nothing more, they both knew. At such an hour, people were done eating or having dessert.

"Yes, but we have plenty of ice cream."

He nodded again and glanced back towards the house. She didn't know what else to say so she said nothing. What a relief that neither could carry a conversation away from being awkward. He felt more like her brother right now than any previous moment.

Sensing he wasn't quite ready to go in, Adora turned around and leaned up against the barn. He followed and they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, still not talking. But it was coming—some conversation, some bleeding. She started digging her cigarettes out but thought better of it. This didn't seem like the kind of talk that needed to happen over a smoke. That'd come later when she was alone and winding down.

"I kind of hated you." Oh. So this was a smoking conversation. Adora shook a cigarette out and then offered one to Red. "Thanks," he said while taking it. She took her lighter out and lit him up before doing the same for herself. "I was always, always being compared to you. An infant. A missing infant. I'm not magical and no one would let me forget I was the brother of the Lost Imperator. I had to be ten times better than everyone else just to get any kind of acknowledgement."

"You know," Adora said, after exhaling some smoke, "I have a certain knack for making people feel that way. Call it a...calling of mine."

His eyes shifted towards her, and he looked at her for a little without saying anything. "I know it's not your fault. How could it have been? You were just a baby. But goddamn did you follow me around. Someone I hadn't even met. I'm sixteen years younger than you, you know? That should've been enough time to get out of your shadow, but it wasn't."

Adora took a long drag of her cigarette and looked out to the woods. Somehow, despite her best efforts, she always ended up here—staring at the trees and hoping something would suddenly make sense. In this case, she wondered if there was a way to cast a shorter shadow. And would anyone bother explaining why she'd been chosen as the Imperator and then She-Ra? Because she needed some sort of explanation as to why she'd caused so much havoc in everyone's life.

"I'm sorry, it's not fair to dump all that shit on you. I know that none of it wasn't your fault."

"It's okay," Adora said, sounding much more reassuring than she felt. Perhaps that was something she'd picked up from being a mom. "You feel how you feel. And I can see how you would start to feel resentful. Being compared to anyone sucks. And I think you deserved better."

"I got better, eventually. I went to the best school in all Eternia. And then I worked for the Department of Scientific Affairs for a while before I became its Deputy Director. And now...well, I'm not sure. The Director was killed in the coup so I'm not sure what that makes me. I don't even know if DSA still exists." He drummed his fingers against the barn and didn't turn to look at her. "It's all a fucking mess, in case you didn't pick up on that."

She shook her head. What should she say? What could she say? "I had these visions of you," she started, "You and the other Eternians who fled. I saw you trying to help them and get the portal working. I saw that you never gave up. Even before I knew you were my brother, I thought, 'Now there's a guy who's doing everything he can for his people.' Maybe they didn't know how lucky they were to have you but I did. And you didn't do any of that because of me or despite me. You did it because you're you. I'm sorry about the coup but I'm glad you were there for your people."

This made him turn and he looked at her wordlessly for several seconds. "You're not what I expected."

"What were you expecting?" She asked.

"I don't know. When mom and dad said that they'd found you, I had no desire to meet you." He puffed at his cigarette, smoke dancing upwards. "But you're nice and you're calm. Even after I told you that I hated you." Had she ever been accused of being calm before? She savored the once-in-a-lifetime compliment.

"Well, I know it's nothing personal. How could it be?" She patted his arm, trying to convey a sincerity she didn't feel. Because it was personal, wasn't it? Everyone liked to pretend there was a She-Ra and an Adora and they were related but different. But they were the same. And anything that She-Ra was, Adora was. And perhaps, for at least one brief moment in time, the same could be said of the Imperator. So anything the Imperator did to her family, to her brother, Adora did. Anything someone hated about She-Ra, about the Imperator, they hated about Adora.

She swallowed hard and looked back out to the house. She wasn't being fair. Maybe he was someone worth knowing but how would she know that without trying? He was her brother. They both deserved to get to know the other, the real other. Not the stories, not the comparisons, not the missing sister, not the unknown brother. The person. "We don't know each other. But, you know, I'd really like to."

"Ya," he said, a smile ghosting his lips, "Me too."

She grinned in return and smothered her cigarette against the ground. "Come on, I want you to meet everyone." She turned and walked towards the house, listening to his footsteps as he followed behind.

After a few more hours of conversation (mostly on everyone else's part), they officially called it a night due to Reyna's bedtime but unofficially because of Adora's frayed nerves. Catra kept close the rest of the time, sitting next to Adora and leaning into her side. She could feel Catra's quiet assessments of her and she initiated the evening's close just when Adora felt like she needed another barn excursion.

They bid her parents and Red goodbye, which took a full twenty minutes of knee slapping and a slow parade to the door. Once they'd finally made it outside, Adora escorted all three back to their camp and returned to a quiet house. Catra must've already put Reyna to bed, and she could hear faint talking coming from Finn's room. They must be gaming.

It was earlyish yet but she needed some sleep. Hopefully an early night and a full eight hours would reset her and she'd be alright. When she walked into their room, Catra was settled under the covers, datapad in hand. No doubt reading.

"Hey," Catra said while setting the datapad aside, "It seems like this was a rough night. Do you wanna talk about it?"

Did she? Adora pulled off her clothes and got into her sleepwear. "I don't think so. Not tonight at least. I just wanna sleep. Thank you though. And keep reading. The light won't bother me." Adora slipped under the covers and slung an arm over her eyes. As a byproduct of military service, she could sleep almost anywhere, anytime. Barring nightmares, of course.

"That's okay, an early night won't hurt me." Some things clattered around on a side table followed by the light getting switched off. Catra snuggled into her side, her tail draping over Adora's stomach. "Goodnight." She kissed Adora's cheek before rearranging her pillow and getting comfortable.

"Goodnight." But sleep wouldn't come. Too many questions swirled, repeating over and over again in her head. Why couldn't she just love her parents? What was the hold up? Why didn't she even want to talk with them? And perhaps the most persistent question of them all: What would've happened had she stayed on Eternia?

"Catra?" Adora whispered, not quite sure if her wife was still awake, "Do you hate me?"

Without a word, Catra rolled to the side of the bed and switched a lamp on. So, she was awake. "Did you just ask if I hate you?" Her incredulous face floated in front of the light as she peered down at Adora.

Not able to speak at this particular moment, Adora simply nodded.

"Adora...what? What in all of Etheria are you talking about?" She crawled back across the bed until her head hovered above Adora's. She seemed wide awake, her eyes almost unblinking as she watched Adora.

"Never mind, forget about it."

Catra dipped her head and nuzzled against Adora's face and then neck. One ear glided along Adora's skin, tickling her. "It's okay. You can tell me. I won't get upset," Catra said. Her hot breath on Adora's neck made her shiver.

When she pulled back a little, Adora admired the worried view. She placed her hands on either side of Catra's head and ran her fingers through her slightly frazzled hair. "Your tufts are going gray."

"No wonder if you're asking me questions like that." Catra leaned down and kissed her lightly before adding, "I don't hate you. Quite the opposite, in fact. Why would you think that?"

Adora ran her hands up Catra's arms, which were braced on either side of her. "You once said that I always get what I want. And I have. Again. I get the loving parents and a long-lost brother. Meanwhile, we don't know a single thing about your family. Doesn't that piss you off?"

"No," Catra said instantly, "Lots of things piss me off. Like when my flowers get hailed on, or when the kids track mud all over the place, or when Scorpia forces me into doing karaoke. But not this. I'm so happy for you, Adora. And for the kids. And for myself. Your parents are wonderful and it's nice that we're getting to know them. They remind me so much of you. Every time your mom laughs, I'm like, 'Oh, I've heard this before.' And your dad has that same idiotic, dopey smile that you wear when you're being goofy. It's cute and it's lovely. And not even once was I thinking about my parents or being jealous or anything like that." Catra lowered herself down so they were pressed chest-to-chest. "And ya, I guess I really did say that, huh? How shitty. I still can't believe some of the stuff that came outta my mouth. I'm sorry I was such an asshole back then."

"You don't have to apologize, Catra. That's long been forgiven. And I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I just couldn't stop thinking about what you said. Because I think you might've been right. You see-"

"Woah, woah. I was not right. Not even close. I was being selfish and shortsighted. Why would you think I was right anyways?

"Red told me he hated me," Adora said before stopping to absorb the magnitude of that statement, "Because he was always trying to get out from under my shadow. And it sounded so familiar. Like how I was the golden child and got everything I wanted. And how I made others–you–feel like you were my sidekick. It's like I'm listening to the same story. And it's like I played the same part. And I wasn't even on Eternia, dammit."

"Red told you he hated you?" Catra's jaw tightened, causing Adora to immediately regret saying anything. She just wanted everyone to get along.

"Well, yes. But he didn't mean it like that. He was just compared to me, his missing infant sister, and that turned him bitter. Understandably so, in my opinion."

"He couldn't have said, 'Hello, it's so nice to meet you. I'm so happy you're alive, by the way.' First meeting and he jumps immediately to, 'I hate you?' The nerve on this guy. And I thought he was so nice," Catra said, bunching Adora's sleepshirt in her fists. "Goes to show what I know. Well, I say fuck him."

"Catra, love, you may be blowing this out of proportion. Just a little." She stroked down the side of Catra's face with the back of her hand.

"Maybe. But you don't deserve that. He may have lived in your shadow, but things haven't been all fun and games for you either. You know what I think? He sounds selfish. All he can think about is what happened to him. Did he ever ask what it was like to be stolen? How it feels to know that you had a loving family waiting for you?"

"No...I guess he didn't," Adora said before scrubbing at her face and feeling the heat of an oncoming headache settle behind her eyes. "But he's been through a lot. He saw the coup, all those people getting killed. I think it's understandable that he's focused on himself."

Catra gnawed on her lower lip as she regarded Adora carefully. "You're a better person than I am. And I love you for your kind heart. But I don't wanna see you get hurt and mistreated. Stars know you've been through that too many times. And mostly that's my fault."

"Catra…" She shouldn't have said anything, now she'd hurt her wife's feelings. And for what?

"I'm sorry that this is reminding you of our childhood. And—," Catra took a breath in, "—what I said and what I did."

"That's all water under the bridge and I'm not mad. I just can't believe I keep making people feel this way. Like they're second best and it's all the Adora Show. I really don't mean to do that. And it's just so upsetting my brother feels that way too."

Catra rubbed her cheek against Adora's chin and said, "That's not your fault or your responsibility. You were like what? Six weeks old when you were stolen? Whatever your brother feels doesn't have to fall on your shoulders."

"True," Adora admitted, "But that's easier said than done. Especially with all my complexes."

"Especially with all your complexes," Catra agreed with a chuckle.

Adora opened her mouth to say more but decided against it. She had neither the desire nor heart to upset Catra anymore. Unintentional or not, guilting her wife with all this stuff wasn't fair or nice. So, she switched subjects. "Do you like my parents?"

"I love your parents. They're great. They're so sweet and nice. It makes so much sense that you're their daughter." Catra nestled her head under Adora's chin and sighed. "...But maybe you don't feel that way?"

Adora stared at the ceiling and marveled at how special it felt to be back home, in their own bedroom. They'd have to go back to the castle tomorrow but at least they were back in the cottage today. Until now, she hadn't quite appreciated how much she'd missed feeling home and feeling safe.

"That bad, huh?" Catra said against her neck, "What don't you like about them?"

"It's not like that. It's not about liking or disliking them. They just don't feel like my parents. I don't know what to say to them. I don't know how to explain the Horde to them. I just don't know what to do with them." Adora massaged Catra's ears and closed her eyes when Catra began purring.

"I don't think you have to do anything with them. I think you just have to be yourself and everything else will fall into place. They already love you, I can tell."

"Are you telling me to relax?" Adora asked, "Because that's never gonna happen."

"I would never, ever offer that advice to you. I'm not a big fan of pissing into the wind."

"Well, good," Adora said before kissing the top of her head, "Because I'm not a big fan of getting pissed on."

"What the fuck?" Catra said, raising her head, "That's the worst way I have ever heard that saying get rebuked." She stopped, perhaps contemplating. "I kinda wanna say thank you, though. Just because the levels of revulsion I feel right now are so hard to achieve."

"Just another free service I provide." Adora yawned and closed her eyes again. Talking about all this stuff did have the effect of winding her down. Not resolving things, exactly, but bringing them in from the dark.

Hair tickled her nose as Catra nudged her jaw. "So...do you wanna talk about anything else? Whatever you need, I'm all ears. Mommy issues, Daddy issues, Shadow Weaver issues...?"

"Spirits, I have no idea where to start with Shadow Weaver. Maybe I'll just never talk about her? Maybe I'll just say things were fine in the Horde and leave it at that."

"Maybe. But honestly? I think they can handle the truth."

"Well, I can't," Adora said.

Her arms fell away from Catra as she sat up and looked down at Adora. "Adora, that's the hundredth comment you've made about the Horde this week. If you don't wanna talk about it with me, I really think you need to go see Marge."

"Ya, that's probably a good idea. I'll set something up." She looped her arms around Catra's neck and tugged her down. "Now, let's go to bed, I'm exhausted."

It was no surprise when she entered the dreamscape of the Whispering Woods. These odd little dreams were so commonplace now that it almost would've been weirder to have a dreamless night. Still, it was weird to enter and immediately know it was a dream. In all her previous dreams, for the entirety of her life, she'd slithered into them with no conscious idea that they were dreams.

But it was fine. Really. So she knew it was a dream. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe she could work some things out here.

Moonlight streamed through the trees, getting broken up into segments as it met the trees' unshakable trunks. As always, this cast a silvery glow upon the scenery that lended itself to the lurkers and the stalkers of the night. Animals could slip through this lighting undetected and unknown. So could she.

Not quite having a concrete reason why, Adora kept close to the shadows and the trees. She avoided long stretches of light that would expose her and headed deeper in. Without a map or compass, she still knew she was moving to the deepest part of the woods. The trees got thicker and thicker the closer one got to the center until the brush was almost jungle like.

"Adora. I wondered when you were going to show up," a voice far to her right said. Her feet, along with her heart, stumbled at the intrusion. Thinking she was alone had lulled her into complacency, and she'd missed this newcomer. That didn't feel like a deadly mistake, however, so she paused her march. In the poor lighting, she couldn't quite make out who it was, but they obviously had no predatory implications. The person made their way towards her, making no move to conceal themselves.

Adora watched for a second before sitting on a nearby tree, which had been twisted into a comfortable seat by some parasite. The woman from her previous dreams sat next to her, surprising no one. She'd become a fixture of her nighttime excursions. Like the ghost of self-guided therapy. Adora didn't mind her presence, in fact she only felt comforted. And best of all? This woman wasn't real. This was just a dream. So, really, what was the harm in talking? She had to talk to someone. Someone who didn't know her or her parents. Someone who was a coping mechanism created by her own mind. Someone like this black-haired, contemplative woman. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

Adora looked out across the forest and scratched at the soft wood beneath her fingernails. If she said it out loud, there was no taking it back. No unsaying what was said. Even if she was only talking to herself, there was still power in saying the truth out loud. Did she really want that?

"I don't think I like my parents," Adora whispered, "And I know I should. They are objectively very nice people. They get along with my family. Really well, actually. It's just that..." How to explain this? "You saw where I grew up."

The woman nodded, causing some black hair to fall from her loose bun and frame her face in the moonlight.

"I spent all these days hoping for them. Hoping they'd come save me and Catra. I waited and waited for something that never came. I hoped and I hoped and what do you do when that hope dies out?"

The woman searched Adora's face before turning and resting her head on her interlocked hands. She said nothing for a moment, and just stared out into the forest. "If you ever figure that out, let me know."

"I just want to say, 'Where were you? Where were you when things were falling apart, and we really needed someone?' But that's not fair," Adora admitted, "None of that was their fault. I know that. Logically, I know that. But—"

"—But here we are," the woman finished. Now it was Adora's turn to nod. "Can I tell you something? One of my worst secrets?"

"Yes, of course."

"I hated my parents. I think I still do. And they weren't bad people," the woman said, "They loved me and I knew that. But there is such a thing as too little, too late. Even if it wasn't their fault. It's just that I...I had a lifetime of things to say and no way to say them. We ran out of things to talk about on our first meeting and we never thought of anything else to say. I went to my dad's funeral first and then my mom's. I didn't speak at either."

"Is it because you always wondered what could've been? If things had been different? If you'd been with them and not at that...place?"

"To tell you the truth," the woman began, "I'm less concerned with that and more concerned with what did happen. It wasn't their fault, but they couldn't fix it either. And if my parents couldn't even fix what happened, there was no fix. And that leads to the worst truth of all—what happened to me, happened for real."

"So they couldn't find you? Were you stolen? Is that why you were there and not with them?"

"They knew where I was. I guess I was kind of stolen, in a way. But they knew it was gonna happen, knew where I'd be taken," the woman said, "And that was that."

"If they knew where you were, why didn't they get you?"

"They were peasants. Nobodys. Farmers, if we wanna get specific. And I was taken by the Crown and sent to an academy. What were they supposed to do?"

"Come and get you? Find a way? If I were in their shoes, nothing could keep me from my child," Adora said.

The woman smiled too wide, borderline baring her teeth. Adora hadn't meant to upset the woman, but she realized now she'd pushed this all too far. "It's nice that you live in a world where everything can be solved. Where every problem comes with a solution. That if you want something badly enough, you'll get it. I wish I lived in that place. I really do. But I don't. I was the Queen's property, and then the King's, and nothing could've stopped that. End of story."

"I'm sorry," Adora began, "I didn't mean to offend."

"You didn't, you didn't." She said with a wave of her hand. "This is a sore subject, if you couldn't tell. I do wish things were different, as I'm sure you understand. But they aren't. And over the years, I've come to a sort of understanding. In the most biological sense, they produced me but it stopped there. Truth is, I never had parents. Never will. And that's that." And there it was, laid bare for her to see. Her worst fears about this whole situation vocalized. The idea that she'd never warm up, never see them as her parents, had crawled into the world of possibilities. The future with no clear resolution had materialized and she hated how easy it was to imagine.

"But hey, that doesn't have to be what happens to you," she said while taking Adora's hands in her own. "You seem pretty upset and that's a step towards fixing things. If you want a relationship with your parents, make one. Even if you don't feel a connection, keep meeting and talking until you do. Just because you had one bad dinner doesn't make a relationship impossible. It's not over till it's over."

"It's more than that," Adora explained, "I met my brother, too. And he made me realize that I play a very specific part in everyone's life where they're always in my shadow. They are always being compared to me and they're starved of attention because of it. I mean–why do I do this?" The woman cocked her head and moved slightly closer, like she was assessing Adora. "What are you doing?"

"Who are you, my friend? That's what I'm trying to figure out." She smoothed a thumb over Adora's knuckles and smiled kindly.

"Me? Well, I'm you. And I need somewhere where I can figure all this stuff out and this is it." Adora glanced down at their hands, thinking of pulling back. But what was the harm in staying put? "I just don't get how I always do this. I make people feel inferior. It's what I do. Even my wife–"

"Your wife?" The woman interrupted.

"Ya, I did this to her. When we were kids. I didn't mean to, you know? But like you said, sometimes meaning has nothing to do with it."

"Hmmm," the woman hummed, "You know, I did the same thing. I was always the big shot, the superstar. I always got the extra attention, the extra ration. And the others hated me for it. But it wasn't my fault. And you know what? I paid the price for being the favorite. I got pulled out of bed when they were still sleeping. I was used all the time. The adults were scared of me, true, but they were grooming me too. To accept the unacceptable. The treats, the attention. All of it was a way to earn my trust. Those sick fucks. And none of that was my fault. I was a victim, too." She scratched at an eyebrow with a single thin finger and cleared her throat. "I think it made me a little bit insane."

The blame Adora remembered. The jealous comments, too. And the treats, the attention. She was special, that's what they'd said, so she got to experience things that no one else did. That's what Shadow Weaver had told her repeatedly. And that made her a target for everyone. The adults when they'd realized she was fair game. The kids when she was singled out and praised. But she'd endured past the point of endurance. She went to the end of her rope and somehow found the courage to hold on. With a little bit of hindsight, she admired her younger self's grit, her ability to withstand attacks from all sides. She understood, too, why she'd come to a point where she could bear it no longer. "Maybe," Adora started, "Maybe me, too."