Chapter 15: The Joust
Two Weeks Later
"Here, drink this."
"What is it?" Adora asked while taking the cup.
"Ale. Very strong ale."
"Oh, uhhh, I don't know if I wanna be drinking before this thing." She had nothing against ale, she liked it in fact, but getting drunk before beating each other up seemed inadvisable.
"You know how bad it hurts when you get hit? Or when you get unhorsed? That shit's gonna bite you in the ass during the actual tournament. The more pain you feel, the easier you are to beat. So drink up and then you won't be able to feel a thing."
"Well, I guess you guys are the experts." She took a deep drink from the mug and then another.
"The trick is getting drunk enough that the pain is dulled but not enough that you can't fight. It's a delicate balance," Brett Battlefield said while shaking around a...pill bottle? "And then you take a handful of these and then you really can't feel anything. And that makes you invincible."
"Those are just your average over the counter pain pills. What are they gonna do?"
"If you take a handful and then drink, a lot actually."
"Won't that mess up your liver? And maybe your kidneys? Both, maybe?"
"Look, we all decided this tournament was gonna go until incapacitation," Susan Slayer said, scratching at the base of one of her horns, "That's gonna hurt like a motherfucker. This will at least mitigate some of the pain. And you'll heal us after everything is said and done, right?"
"Right."
"Well, then, there's nothing to fear." She shook out a small handful of pills and downed them with a swig of ale. Adora exchanged a look with Brick, who looked as off-put as she felt. When she handed over the pills, Adora took out exactly four. Which was actually much higher than the recommended dose but nowhere near the amount Susan suggested. Despite her misgivings, she also drank it down with ale.
Brick followed her lead and took four pills. Then they passed along the bottle and the Eternians took handfuls. She watched them gulp the pills down and wondered if she'd regret only taking four. It was true, jousting hurt horribly. They'd been practicing now for two weeks and she'd felt the falling and the hitting and the fighting every single day. She liked it, the sport and the excitement. In many ways, it seemed like it'd been invented specifically for her. What other sport combined sword fighting, horseback riding, and hitting people as hard as possible? She loved it more than she expected, but Spirits did it hurt. But maybe that actually added to the fun. The pain, and the bone-deep need to avoid it, made things real. There wasn't just losing, there was shattering your ribs and being eviscerated losing. She liked that; it made her sharper.
"Do you think Spirits are gonna interrupt us? Join in on the fun, perhaps?" Susan asked.
Adora took another hearty drink and looked up at Avis, Gillion, and Vatova inching towards each other in the vast sky. This evening, the trio would align, causing the division between this world and the Spirit world to become its thinnest during the whole year. For most people, that meant one of the biggest holidays of the year—the Day of Restoration. A day for celebrating ancestors, lost loved ones, and offering gratitude to Etheria's Spirits.
She didn't know how common a Spirit sighting was for the average person. She'd heard of a fair few since the magic had been released; some areas more active than others. For herself, she'd seen no less than a dozen Spirits each Day of Restoration. The first year after Prime, she'd still been getting used to the idea of Spirits when she was inundated with them. Some good, some neutral, and some evil. They'd been repressed, fading, for nearly a millennium. They wanted to meet the person who'd set them free. She'd tried to indulge them. And while not as numerous as that first anniversary, Spirits returned year after year to see her. To talk sometimes. Sometimes just to stare.
She didn't quite know what role she played with the Spirits, what She-Ra was supposed to do with them. Frustratingly, she'd never received any kind of manual about this stuff. By herself, she'd decided that pissing off the Spirit world was low on her To-Do list and she tried to spend most of the day with them. For better or for worse.
"No, the Guild put their magical barriers around the arena. They won't bother us here. After that, it's anyone's guess."
"That sounds kind of...ominous?"
"I wouldn't worry," Adora assured her, "The Spirits keep to themselves mostly. And they're usually quite friendly. There's a few that mean harm but they're rare. Honestly, as long as you respect them and keep your distance, you won't have any problems." Everything about that was true—evil Spirits were few and far between. But with the woods acting the way they were this year, they'd decided to schedule the tournament today in hopes of keeping people inside and away from Spirit hot spots. She hoped it worked, she didn't want to venture into the woods for a search and rescue operation.
Brett Battlefield shook his head and said, "I can't believe you have free-roaming Spirits all over Etheria. And you can interact with them. It's hard to believe sometimes. Our gods aren't exactly accessible."
"Usually you can't just interact with them. I mean, I can. But that's not true for ninety-nine percent of the population. It's only today when the division between our world and theirs gets razor thin and anyone can see a Spirit."
"That's still crazy to me." Battlefield glanced at his squire. "How long until we go on?"
"Soon, my Lord. They're just wrapping up Bronco Busting now."
Right on time, the booming voice of the announcer came over the arena's sound system. "In joint friendship and admiration, the King of Eternia and Queen of Etheria invite you to experience the exciting new sport of champions, jousting. Much beloved on Eternia, the tradition of fighting for honor and renown has extended back centuries. Today, knights of the Eternian throne will challenge our very own to prove their mettle in battle."
The Eternian swung their horses towards the gate that'd be opening any second. "May the best team win," Brett said.
"May the best team win," Brick echoed.
"Good luck out there," Adora said. They'd need it. They might be more experienced at this but she and Brick had everything they needed and more to win—the training, the grit, the showmanship. She wasn't worried.
"Representing King Elric, Princess Lavinia, and the Eternian throne is Lord Brett Battlefield the Fearless, Commander General of the Eternian military, son of Beatrice and Major Battlefield." The arena's gate swung open and Brett Battlefield's horse cantered through. He raised his sword to the cheering crowd and hit them with an easy, handsome smile.
"Next up is Lady Susan Slayer, the Relentless, knight of the Eternian throne and Captain of the Eternian Royal Guard, daughter of Thomas and Shadow Slayer. Folks, give the Lady a round of applause!" She thundered through on her own steed and waved at the adoring crowd.
"And now, put your hands together for our very own!" She heard the crowd swell to a roar and her pulse began its steady roar in her ears.
Brick held out an open palm and she took it. "Let's fuckin' do this."
"Damn right," she said, gripping his hand tighter for a second before letting it go. "We got this. You got this."
"First up, we have Crown Prince Brick, the Brave. Son of Queen Glimmer and King Bow and heir to the Etherian throne." He adjusted his crown before the gate swung open once more and he galloped through on his giant black gelding, Marcellius. The pounding of Marcellius' hooves reverberated through the arena and she could feel the crowd's electricity from here. Lucky for them, this crowd seemed desperate for entertainment and they wouldn't have to try hard to keep their attention.
"Flag, please." One of her attendants handed her the Etherian flag—Bright Moon's purple crescent—and she adjusted her grip on its wooden handle.
Despite carrying the flag of Etheria, Adora wore the more individualized house symbols of her family. Over her heavy plate armour, she wore a golden and white tunic that came down to her knees and the Sword of Protection's likeness was stitched onto the fabric on her chest and upper arms. Swift Wind was draped in matching white cloth along with his own armor. It was all brand new, in the last year or two they'd finally gotten their own family sigil. "Okay, Swifty, you know what to do. The more over-the-top, the better."
"You came to the right horse." He danced a little under her, no doubt feeling the crowd's excitement.
"And, last but not least, we have our very own Princess Adora! Defender of Etheria, Lord Commander of the Royal Military, destroyer of Horde Prime, and legendary warrior, She-Ra!" The gate swung open and Swift Wind bolted through. The flag flapped around wildly as she hoisted it high above her head. The crowd was a sliver of movement and color for a brief moment before opening up into a massive spectacle that lined the arena. She couldn't even hear the sound of Swift Wind's hoofbeats above the cheering.
It went straight to her head, the crowd's energy converting into a headrush. With each passing second, a surge of electricity flashed through her. She could do anything, beat anyone, win any contest. She knew that but now she believed it. Her muscles twitched and the flag trembled slightly in her grip. Everything in her was winding up, getting ready, producing the needed edge.
Swift Wind galloped around the arena, tail and head held high in a display of utter confidence and sheer cockiness. Never one to be overshadowed, Adora waved the flag around and stood up in the stirrups. Every eye looked, every neck turned towards her. If this wasn't power, what was?
She returned to Brick and Sunny, handing the flag over to the young scorpioni. One day she'd join Brick and Adora but for now she'd act as their squire. A duty that could only be characterized as unfun, not at all glamorous, and completely needed. Sunny handed a lance up to Brick and then Adora for the final ceremony before the action.
"Sir Battlefield and Lady Slayer fight for the Eternian throne, for King Elric and Princess Lavinia." As the announcer began, the pair started riding around the arena, collecting rings of cloth and beads around their lances. Lucky audience members got to place them, having been chosen previously for the honor. Admittedly, Adora didn't quite get it. It was about honor or prestige or something. Brett and Susan insisted on keeping the tradition so here they were. She just wanted to get to the hitting.
"Prince Brick and Princess Adora fight for the Etherian throne, for King Bow and Queen Glimmer." At that prompting, Adora trotted one way around the arena while Brick went the other. She paused Swift Wind in front of a lovely woman and lowered her lance towards her. The woman smiled brightly and glanced up through her lashes as she placed some beads around Adora's lance. Now she was starting to see why this part was so popular.
After collecting their ribbons and beads, she and Brick joined Susan and Brett where they'd lined up in front of the Royal Pavilion. Glimmer stood in flowing purple and white robes and began speaking into a microphone on center stage. "The winner of this tournament will not only bring honor to themselves but honor to their families, their planet, and their royals. King Elric and I will present the first ever Etherian Jousting Tournament Medallion to the victors." Adora exchanged a look with Brick, they'd both suggested renaming the medallion to something else but Bow held firm to the ridiculous name. "Get a drink, an encouraging word from a loved one, and then we'll start." She stepped back from the mic as Adora and Brick dismounted and approached the pavilion.
Catra waited for her at the base of the stage, looking absolutely amazing in her maroon shirt, tan riding pants, and white and gold cape. They'd been carefully planning and coordinating their outfits for weeks but seeing how they matched in person put an extra spring in Adora's step.
"You like the emblem, our emblem?"
"Well, it's better than a giant BM on your chest," Catra said, nodding to Brick's outfit. Never before had she made that connection but, Spirits, was Catra right. Without really meaning to, she burst out laughing, drawing an inquisitive look from Brick, who stood a few feet away talking to his parents. She shook her head at him, vowing to never point this out to the young man. She made a mental note to confirm no other uniforms carried the unfortunate symbol.
"You're right about that." Adora propped her arms on the fence and grinned at Catra. Something far more important was on her mind. "So, I was thinking you could give me a good luck kiss. If I get one from the most beautiful woman on Etheria, I can't lose. Or so the legends say."
"The legends, huh? The legends about jousting, the sport that's existed for two weeks?"
"They're blossoming legends," Adora said, "Young legends."
"How convenient for you." Catra cocked one eyebrow before placing her hands on either side of Adora's face and leaning in for a kiss. A great kiss, a winning kiss. A kiss that earned them much fanfare and cheering from the crowd.
After breaking apart, Adora rested her forehead against Catra's. "The kids are gonna hate that," Adora said, nodding to a camera aimed directly at them.
"They better not be watching. We paid good money for the babysitter to distract them." At first, Adora had told both kids they could come watch. They'd make an afternoon of it, get some lunch and cheer on Mom. That was before she practiced for the first time. That was before she'd broken her wrist for a few seconds before healing it up. That was before she knew that blood was going to flow. After she realized, she had to tell them they couldn't come anymore and they couldn't watch it on TV. Which was a super fun and constructive conversation on all accounts.
"Are you sure about this?" Glimmer asked, loud enough for her voice to carry over, "This seems more dangerous than I thought." Adora straightened back up and focused on Glimmer and how she exchanged nervous looks with Bow.
"You asked for a show, now you're gonna fucking get one," Brick said while adjusting a gauntlet, "Everyone's gonna know the Eternians after this. Mission accomplished, right?"
"Well, ya, but we don't wanna see you hurt, son," Bow said, "Nothing's worth that."
"Don't worry about me. I'm a healer, right? I'll heal myself."
"Brick—"
"Queen Glimmer, King Bow," Susan said with a bow before turning and whispering to Adora, "Are you guys ready or what? It's not like you're going off to fucking war."
Catra laughed and pointed at Susan. "I like you."
"You're gonna like me a lot less after I beat your wife in front of your whole planet," Susan said, her mouth quirking up at the edges but her eyes keeping their intensity.
"Ya? Good luck with that. You're gonna need it."
"We'll see, Princess Catra, we'll see." With that, she turned and mounted her horse.
"Did you just trash talk for me?" Adora said, not even trying to keep the amazement out of her voice.
"Yes, so now you have to win. Do not, and I repeat, do not get your ass beaten on live TV. It would be bad for our name."
"Well, I was gonna lose, but now…"
"Ya, ya," Catra said while playfully shoving at her shoulder, "Don't keep the adoring crowd waiting. And be careful."
"Always am." Adora turned back around and mounted Swift Wind. She moved around her shoulders to get her armor sitting better and readjusted her neck guard. Over and over she'd been told how this was the most important piece of armor, second only to her helmet. Wood shrapnel was common, splinters the size of fingers expected. Watch your neck, watch your head, watch your eyes, she'd been told. Not necessarily in that order.
Glimmer was back on stage, all smiles and no concerns. Outwardly at least. "I wish all four of you luck today. May the best team win," she said into the mic, "Now let the games begin!"
Adora and Brick shook hands with Brett Battlefield and Susan Slayer before going to their side of the arena. "Okay, they may have experience," Adora said while putting on her helmet and buckling it to her armor. They had a tendency to fly off mid-action. "But we have grit and we have courage. And, dammit, we can ride."
"Ya, I know. Stay on my fucking horse and everything else will work out. We got this, Adora. We do." He pulled his own helmet on, which had flowing red plumage like a horse's tail. He tilted his head down to look at her through his helmet's slit. "I won't let you down."
"It's not about letting me down, Brick. This is just a game, let's have fun." After a final nod, she guided Swift Wind over to Sunny and put out her hand. "Lance, please, Sunny."
Sunny handed up a lance and said, "Good luck out there. Kick some major ass."
"Planning on it." Lady Slayer lined up opposite Adora, her horse shuffling a bit under her. She couldn't see her face but she felt her eyes, watching, appraising. Her horns stuck out through the top of her helmet, larger and wider now than they'd ever seemed. In practice, she'd been a downright menace. Underestimating her now would be a mistake.
Swift Wind reared up to his full height while letting out a whinny that echoed through the stadium. His front legs kicked out and Adora tightened her grip on the lance. She rocked her head forward so she could see from her helmet's barely-there opening. From her vantage point, high atop Swift Wind, the people surrounding them seemed tiny, hilariously so. Breakable even. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm herself. She had to remember that these people were people, not Princesses, not She-Ra. And that they were, in fact, extremely breakable.
"Riders in position!" The announcer called. "Riders go!"
Swift Wind came down and took off down the railing. No matter what happened, she needed to stay aboard. Adora tightened her legs around him and hunched forward, leaning into her lance's frenzied search for shield. Swift Wind's and Lady Slayer's horse's hooves beat the ground like a drum, thrumming deep in the ground and rumbling through the stadium. Adora watched the other lance get closer and closer while positioning her own to hit Lady Slayer in the shoulder. With any luck, she'd knock the other woman from her horse and get some points.
During training, they were told over and over again to tip their helmets up at the last possible moment. This, Battlefield and Slayer explained, would help keep splinters from popping their eyes open like little meat bags. Adora kept her gaze on her target, the closest shoulder, until they were an instant away from hitting. She rolled her head up before slamming backwards into her saddle. Vaguely, she noticed the rhythmic up and down of Swift Wind's haunches against her head as she laid almost flat across his back. Who knew where her shield and lance were. She could still be holding them, they could be flying through the air, who knew?
Someone was talking, the drone of their voice piercing her dazed consciousness. For some reason, this was the thing that brought her back. Gripping onto that, she hauled herself upward until she was once again sitting in the saddle rather than barely clinging on. With one hand, she took Swift Wind's reins. Not that he needed it but he probably wanted to know his passenger wasn't dead.
"Adora? Oh, thank the Spirits," Swift Wind said. Oh, so his voice was the voice. This was one for the history books because Swift Wind's voice had never previously been, and probably would never again be, a soothing anchor to reality.
"I'm here, Swifty. I'm here." She leaned forward to give him a little pat.
It felt like she'd been down and out for ages, but she'd really been out of it for a few seconds. She regained enough sense and strength to reel him in a little and they came to a stop by the fence between herself and the audience. People scrambled backwards from the fencing, their eyes wide and movements jerky. "It's okay," she tried to tell them, "I'm okay. This is all part of the fun. It's just a game." Yet, they ran.
"-a tremendous blow!" The announcer said, "Two points to Princess Adora for shattering her lance and three points to Lady Slayer for hitting her opponent's shield dead center."
Damnit, starting off behind was never good. She swung Swift Wind around to face the arena once again and to survey the damage. Sure enough, her lance lay in pieces and her shield sat completely abandoned on the ground. She unbuckled her helmet and slid it up. Not really meaning to, she gasped for breath as soon as fresh, cool air hit her face.
Across the arena, Lady Slayer's horse let out a shrill call as it bucked under her. Its airborne feet moved her around with sweeping efficiency, almost colliding with the barrier separating the audience several times. People backed away and attendants helped those sitting close move backwards. Slayer passed her lance from one hand to the other effortlessly and for the first time, Adora wondered if they could lose. It had all been so easy, so obvious. Of course they'd win. Then she got hit so hard she'd ascended for a few seconds and nothing was assured anymore.
But she'd taken that hit and she could take more. Sure, her shoulder felt like it'd been trampled by a whole team of draft horses but she was still on Swift Wind and she could still fight. That wasn't nothing.
"And now, Prince Brick and Lord Battlefield will take their places," the announcer said. Brick slid his visor down but she could tell he was looking her way. She tried her best to send good thoughts his way but that was about all she could do for him. This wasn't her fight.
He lined up Marcellius with the railing and heaved his lance up from where Sunny offered it. Brett Battlefield did the same, though his smaller stature and horse weren't quite as imposing as Brick's solid frame.
"And...joust!" The announcer called.
Marcellius reared a little before kicking into gear and extending into a fast canter. His black mane and tail, along with Brick's fiery helmet plume, blew backwards with the movement, creating a dazzling vision of man and beast locked in total coordination. She admired the simple beauty of it before focusing on the coming hit.
Brick's lance slipped a little, dropping her heart into her stomach. She almost turned away, unwilling to watch the one-sided victory, but she was too frozen to even blink. At the last second, he repositioned his lance and tipped his head back. Both lances cracked audibly before shattering against the other's shield. Wood reigned across them and the arena, causing her to wince in sympathy. Brick gave as good as he got, and he'd given a lot.
Like she'd done, Brick slipped backwards in the saddle, his hands waving uselessly as he tried to grapple with the teeth rattling blow. For one horrible second, she thought he'd fall off Marcellius as he wobbled from side-to-side but his balance never veered into the unrecoverable. A few more strides down the arena and he pulled himself up. He steered Marcellius towards Adora before stopping beside her. "Holy fuck," he panted out, "We should be way more drunk right now." He hunched over the saddle and coughed a few times.
"Are you alright?"
"I'll live, I'll live. But we are way too sober," he said while clutching at his shoulder, "Fuck, I didn't expect it to hurt this bad."
"Do you wanna stop? We don't have to do this."
"No, fuck no. We can do this. Or more like I can do this." He raised his visor and grinned at her, a little forced maybe. "I'm not the one who's losing for us."
"We don't know what points you—"
"Two points to Prince Brick for shattering his lance and two points to Lord Battlefield for shattering his. Eternia leads by one point," the announcer cut-in. Some cheers accompanied this and Adora just barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.
"Hmmmm," Brick hummed, tapping one finger against his lips, "What were you gonna say?"
"Ya, ya. Let me go win and then we'll talk." Adora brushed Swift Wind's sides with her heels and steered him back to her position along the rail. Opposite her, Lady Slayer did the same with her antsy horse. She flicked her visor down and shook out her arms before taking a lance from her squire. Distantly, Adora noted how similar in physique she and Scorpia were. But which was more formidable—a stinger or a giant set of antlers? Hopefully she'd never find out.
Brick may have won but he wasn't going against the better of the two. Brett Battlefield was good but he was no Lady Slayer. The ease and calmness with which she handled her horse and lance was that of a seasoned veteran accustomed to winning.
Adora slammed her helmet back down and buckled it back to her plate armour. Lady Slayer may be good but so was Adora. She could win this and she could live to tell the tale. "Alright, Swifty, come on." She cracked her neck for good measure and heaved her lance up with one arm. With the other, she threaded her fingers through her shield's leather strap.
"Riders ready?" Came the announcer's voice. "And joust!"
Lacking the same cockiness as before, Swift Wind broke into a fast trot before transitioning into a canter. And this time Adora focused less on thinking she could win and more on the actual winning. She lowered her lance down and stared at her target—Lady Slayer's shield. When she began learning about combat and aiming, someone told her that her sword, her spear, her whatever would follow where her eyes went. So she kept them locked on the winged lion painted on her opponent's shield. A twinge of hesitation, a reminder of the coming pain flittered through her mind, some weak sense of self-preservation fueling the thought. With practiced ease, she shoved it aside and leaned forward. A second before impact, she tipped her head back and tensed.
Funny how these things worked. Funny how she felt every muscle go rigid and she somehow had more time to wait. Funny how seconds lasted so long that thoughts could wiggle in—thoughts wondering at the silence of the crowd, thoughts wondering how she could hear her own ragged breaths in an arena of thousands.
And then they were gone in a flash, in a hit. Everything besides warming pain was ejected but she held on. The weight of her lance pulled one shoulder down and the other cracked backwards as it absorbed Slayer's blow. Instead of falling backwards, she slumped forward. Pain ricocheted throughout her body, neither having a clear beginning nor ending.
"Nice one!" Swift Wind called. And then, "Are you okay back there?"
"I got my lance. I got my shield."
"Well...that's true." The rhythmic movement underneath her ceased and for the first time in a long time, she felt she could try to sit up. She winced at the sudden infusion of light through her helmet but stayed the course until she was sitting. Her head pounded and it wasn't the booze.
She got it now. When they first started practicing, she'd asked several times why jousts lasted three rounds at the most. 'It's too hard on the body to do any more than three. I'm sure you've been hit before but it's nothing like this,' Lady Slayer had explained. And she'd been right. There was nothing quite like it. Two rounds in and her body was spent. She hadn't broken anything, and she felt snapped into pieces.
And, yet, she loved it. Maybe she shouldn't. But she'd earned every point she'd gotten, she'd taken every hit and stayed aboard. Challenges like this didn't come along all that often anymore. Challenges that proved she could still rise to the occasion.
"Two points to Princess Adora for hitting the Lady's neck and one point to Lady Slayer for shattering her lance. Etheria leads by one."
At this, Adora raised her lance and head before urging Swift Wind into a fast trot. If there was one thing she'd learned over the years, it was to take every victory lap she could get. So she flew along the outside railing, prodding and rousing the crowd with her own electric excitement. The freakish silence came to an end, and cheers followed her all along her path. She found one of the many cameras, and mouthed, "Number one," while raising a finger. Etherians were modest by nature, but something about her unabashed confidence appealed to the masses and the stands lept back to life.
She'd always been good at this—rallying people to her, injecting vigor back into a rapidly dying situation. And here was another opportunity to do what she did best. Despite her pounding headache, she grinned wide.
"A bit full of ourselves, aren't we?" Brick yelled over the crowd as soon as she returned to his side.
"If I can't celebrate my win, why even bother?"
"I dunno? The women, the men, the fame, the fortune?"
"I just wanna impress my wife," Adora admitted.
"Good thing Catra is impressed by being a cocky asshole, then." He slid his helmet back down, and adjusted his shield.
"Are you being sarcastic right now?" Adora glanced between him, and the Royal Pavilion. She could make out Catra's ears but not her expression. Maybe that victory lap actually wasn't the smartest move? "Are you being sarcastic, Brick?" Without replying, he urged Marcellius forward and the pair realigned against the railing. "Jerk," she muttered, although some part of her agreed with his assessment. Maybe she'd gotten into this all a little too much.
"And joust!" Marcellius reared a little before horse and rider took off towards Brett. Knowing Brick, he'd somehow get three points and lord them over Adora for the rest of eternity. He'd land the perfect hit, of course, and—
And then he was on the ground. And then he wasn't moving.
A collective gasp hushed the crowd, and a muffled "Motherfucker" saved her heart from the oncoming freefall. He rolled over onto his back, and grabbed towards his legs with jerky movements. He unbuckled his helmet, and the coat of sweat on his face gave him a shiny, waxy appearance.
Perhaps he could limp along for the rest of the tournament. Bear his injury for another round so they could win. Then she'd heal him and they'd be the talk of the feast. But as soon as she got closer, she understood this was a lost cause. White bone peaked out from under his shin armour, catching the sun and gleaming. Strange how natural bone was and yet its jagged edges picked at some basic instinct, something that told her to be wary. Blood dribbled down his armour and sank into the sand, turning it crimson. "Oh Spirits. Fuuuuck. Fuck me. Shit," Brick moaned out as he laid backward and threw his arms over his face.
"Can you heal yourself?" She asked.
"I'll try." He glowed gold and went still. In an agonizingly slow pace, his bone pulled back towards his leg and disappeared back under his armour with a wet pop. She wasn't particularly squeamish but her stomach still turned at the noise. "Oh, fuck."
"Stay down, Brick. I'll get Battlefield for you. We can still win this." Adora turned Swift Wind and pointed at Lord Battlefield. "I want a rematch for Prince Brick."
"Anything for the Prince," Battlefield said, swinging his horse back to the railing. From the corner of her eye, she watched Sunny drag Brick safely away and suddenly it was just her. Two against one. And no way was she going to lose.
Another attendant hoisted her lance and shield upwards, and it was on. Adora laced her hands through the shield's straps, and braced her lance under an arm.
"And joust!" The announcer yelled.
Brett's horse let out a call uncomfortably close to a scream, but it still charged forward under the prodding of his spurs. Its eyes rolled white, and its nostrils flared with effort, with terror. Her own chest clutched around her heart, but she aimed her lance anyway. She kept her eyes on his shield until the last second, then she jerked her head up.
A shower of wooden shrapnel exploded as his lance hit her square in the shoulder. That awful, deep sound of her bones snapping under the blow lending some clarity to the white hot pain flashing through her. Her shoulder was shattered, her armour buckled. That sound, shockingly loud to her own ears and sending her stomach plummeting, played as she fell backwards off Swift Wind. Her hands uselessly flapped through the air and she watched Swift Wind's legs stride farther and farther away—riderless and stirrups smacking against his sides. She watched and watched, existing in an odd place between injured and heading for worse. Of course, worse came. The railing collapsed under her weight before dumping her on the ground with a half somersault. The punishing hit from the railing and then the ground knocked the wind out of her and she rolled to a stop with an audible wheeze.
Well...at least she couldn't fall off the ground.
"Fuuuuuuuuck," she groaned. She tried moving her shoulder but her signals weren't getting through. Her hand laid there and for a moment it felt like it belonged to someone else. She flopped her head to that side and watched her white tunic turn red. A piece of wood, now glistening in the sun, stuck out from under where her shoulder plate met her chest plate. A point of weakness, she realized a little late. The sand under her shoulder grew redder by the minute, and she should've taken more than four pain pills.
She felt more than heard footsteps approaching and looked over to where Sunny was supposed to be seated. The young woman was standing, mouth agape and eyes wide. The color drained out of her face when they made eye contact. "My sword!" Adora yelled, reaching out her good arm. Sunny didn't move, didn't even blink. "Sunny! My sword!" The footsteps grew closer but this wasn't over. Far from it.
Snapping out of her trance, Sunny grabbed her sword and tossed it into the sand next to Adora. The sound of it hitting the ground far too loud. She unbuckled her chinstrap and tried to refocus. Where was the audience? The cheers? Even when she rolled her helmet off and the world became a little clearer, she couldn't hear the audience's usual roar. Was it her? Gone deaf? She looked around and saw the people standing, hand over their mouths, horrified. They thought it was over. It wasn't.
"Do you yield, Princess?" Brett Battlefield asked as he walked into her line of sight. He held his sword towards her, ready and waiting.
"I do not." In one fluid motion, Adora grabbed her sword and slammed it into his, causing him to back off. In his off balance, she took the opportunity to stumble to her feet and recollect. Like the slow but inevitable wave of blood turning her clothes crimson, heat marched steadily through her veins, pushing her forward and turning the pain into kindling. It was just her and Battlefield now. Her magic tapped at her, wanting to be used. To heal and to fight. To dominate and win. But she pushed it down, she'd agreed to not use it.
"They say you're the best swordsperson in the galaxy," he said, "Let's see it."
"Be careful what you wish for." She lunged forward and this first strike told her everything she needed to know. He was too slow, too off-balance, too little to her too much.
When he sliced downwards, she deflected and knocked him out of alignment. After that, there was no ebb and flow. No trading of blows. Adora had him on the defensive and kept him there. She opened him to attack while he tried to keep her out.
She hadn't fought someone like this for quite some time. For years now, she'd been primarily training people and she had to be careful with them. Had to be gentle. She welcomed the opportunity to fight someone closer to her own abilities. To show her skill. To bleed a little and earn every inch of ground.
With one final blow, she slashed out his legs from under him, spraying blood onto the sandy ground. He slipped out from under his legs and crashed downwards. Incapitated, as the rules stated. She closed the few feet of distance and moved her sword away so it wouldn't drip down onto him.
"Fuckin' get him!" Someone screamed from the stands. But what else was there to do? She'd already gotten him.
"Do you yield, sir?" Adora asked, more out of respect than anything else. He was done for.
"I yield, I yield." He raised his hands in surrender and let his sword fall to the ground. Satisfied he meant it, Adora pulled back her forward momentum.
"Well, I don't," Lady Slayer growled from behind her. Adora wheeled around in time to see Slayer's sword streaking through the air towards her. With her good hand, Adora raised her sword to block the blow and managed to hold her off. All this did, however, was enrage Slayer more. She came back down again, this time harder.
Adora almost collapsed to her knees from the blow, but somehow found the strength to stay upright. One arm ached with exertion, and the other painfully pulsated with her every heartbeat. But she'd let all her limbs get sliced to ribbons before she'd lose in front of her entire planet.
Slayer was good, great even, with her two-handed sword. Her power was undeniable, and she had a good eye to spot openings. Still, Adora was better, even with one hand. Slayer raised her arms to strike another blow, but Adora was faster. She stabbed at the spot where Slayer's breastplate and backplate met, causing blood to well from her side and cascade down her armour like a slow but steady river. Slayer let out a grunt, but she hardly seemed to notice the hit. The booze, the pills. Those handfuls made so much sense now.
She swung sideways, hoping to catch Adora off-balance, but this maneuver was entirely predictable. During her backswing, Adora sliced at Slayer's arm hard enough that she dropped her sword. And suddenly they were staring each other down, wondering what the next move was. Adora could cut her legs out from under her, but they'd barely started. That hardly seemed sporting.
Before she could consider further, Slayer's boot smashed into Adora's chest. She careened backwards, her arms waving as she tried to regain her balance. For a moment, it felt like she'd be okay but then she teetered backwards past the point of no return. Adora's back slammed into the railing and hands were all over. Torn up, scarred hands gripping at her. "Give it up, Etherian," someone yelled in her ear, "You've lost!" She was all for crowd participation but this was a little much.
Somehow she'd stumbled into the Eternian section of the arena and they weren't afraid to show it. Fists pounded against the railing, sending goosebumps up her spine. A chant of "Lady Slayer" began as a single voice before steadily increasing into a roar. She held her sword aloft but nobody made any attempts to wrestle it from her. This was all just a game, even for the crowd. Sure, no pretty girls would hand her flowers here, but it was all in good fun. She took a deep breath, and the momentary fear clouding her head cleared.
Then someone kicked her in the back, and she tripped forward and back into the fight.
Still bleeding, still angry, Slayer leapt forward and put too much effort into her strike. She over extended herself, setting herself up for a singular, powerful blow. She probably thought this was the move that would crown her champion, her calculations never reaching towards the future. But the off-balanced wobble was there. So was an opening.
Adora dodged to the side, and swung towards her unguarded legs. She'd agreed not to use the Sword of Protection, but this sword did the job. Maybe not as smoothly, but it cut all the same. Slayer reached too far to pull back quickly enough, and Adora's sword sliced open both legs. Her face flashed with surprise as she crashed into the ground, and her sword clattered uselessly to the ground.
And then...And then that was it? Adora looked around the arena but no one else charged forward, no swords flashed in the sunlight. Lady Slayer kept still, but sucked in a breath when she pressed a hand to her legs and it came back red. This wasn't a trick, there was no way she'd stand back up and keep fighting. But Adora kept waiting because it was all too easy.
"Do you yield, Lady Slayer?"
Slayer looked up and squinted, licked at her cracked lips. A smile played out across her face and, truth be told, she seemed way too friendly for someone who'd just lost so publicly. "I yield."
A pause. From her. From the audience. Did she really just win? She looked to the stands, where Bow, Glimmer, and Catra stood. Then her sword—blood red. Seemingly at the same time, the stands to her right erupted with applause while she raised her sword above her head. Some of the blood on her blade trickled downwards, staining her white sleeves red. This time, at least, it wasn't her own blood that dyed her tunic.
"And we have a winner! Team Etheria wins the tournament!"
Adora turned in a slow circle, hoping to bask in the adulation, but instead she found confusion, horror. The Eternian section was going absolutely wild but the Etherians stayed silent. She caught people glancing awkwardly at each other, casting their eyes to the ground. Everywhere she looked, her adoring fans reverted to the cowering populace she knew so well from the war. But why?
"Adora! Adora!" The Eternian section began chanting. Never before had she seen them so animated, so alive. Long gone were the dejected faces, the sunken eyes. Now they whooped and hollered, and jumped all over each other.
She looked again towards the Etherians, towards her people, but they stayed silent. Not knowing what else to do, Adora lifted her good arm and pointed her swords towards the Eternians. This caused them to lose it even more, their shouts now echoing across the arena. Unable to help herself, Adora grinned at the spectacle.
After healing up Brett Battlefield and Susan Slayer, Adora knelt before the Royal Pavilion. She hadn't healed herself yet, the treatment of pulling the wooden shrapnel from her shoulder far too gruesome for the audience. So she knelt with one hand on her sword, and bowed her head in a picture of perfect obedience. By winning, she'd also brought glory to Bow and Glimmer.
Someone brushed against her side, and she turned to find Brick kneeling beside her. He looked healed and healthy. Beside him, Slayer and Battlefield also paid reverence to the Etherian crown.
"Lord Battlefield, Lady Slayer. You have proven your worth by participating in this tournament. We thank you for your skill in arms, and your willingness to represent the great Eternian throne," Glimmer said, "Prince Brick, my dear son, you have also shown your mettle. It is with great pride that your father and I watched your performance. And, finally, Princess Adora, it is due to your strength and skills that we Etherians won today. Thank you for your service to us, and to Etheria." With that, Glimmer exited down the pavilion's steps and made her way to the kneeling four. She gave both Slayer and Battlefield a squeeze on the shoulder before she stopped in front of Brick to kiss his forehead and whisper some words of encouragement. Glimmer placed a medallion around his neck, and then finally approached Adora. Whatever look was on her face Adora didn't recognize. Tight jaw, piercing eyes, and slightly furrowed eyebrows didn't seem like a particularly positive expression, however.
Quickly and clumsily, Glimmer threw the medallion around Adora's neck. "We need to talk," she hissed before taking a step back from Adora. "Thank you all for coming!" Glimmer swept her arms around to the audience. "That concludes today's tournament. Be safe on your journeys home."
Glimmer walked back to the pavilion, and her circle of friends, advisors, and guards shrouded her from Adora's line of sight. Even Catra disappeared amongst the throng, but not before throwing Adora a thin smile.
Someone cleared their throat, and she turned to find Brick, Slayer, and Battlefield already walking towards the arena's exit. She clambered up to her feet, and followed them back to the staging area.
"–Better you than me," she caught Sunny saying to Brick. With impressive ease and strength, she pulled Brick's backplate and breastplate off in one swift movement. "Glimmer's gonna fucking murder you both. And I'll be one step closer to the throne."
"What?" Brick demanded. He ran a shaky hand through his hair just as Adora plopped down on a seat opposite of him.
"Kidding, Spirits. Did your sense of humour get bled out of you?"
"Something like that," he muttered, "Maybe knocked out. Fuck."
Adora grabbed the piece of wood still lodged in her shoulder and yanked. Fresh blood trickled down her armour, but it still didn't completely dislodge. Now her hands were slick with blood, and she struggled to get a grip on the wood. She twisted and pulled at the same time, hoping that the leverage would be enough to remove it. With a disturbing sucking noise, it finally came loose and she palmed the large splinter. It felt squishy under her touch as it had absorbed some of her blood. Its jagged edges looked nauseating, and she could see why the pain shot through her with white-hot intensity. More blood streamed down her, and she realized that her once white tunic was now completely dyed red.
Probably she should've healed herself immediately. She should've reached deep down, and let golden light bathe her in alleviating relief. But she let the blood flow; she let the pain settle. And it nestled into her so easily, like it had done this all before.
"Did you really have to do that right in front of me?" Brick asked, his face once again shining with sweat.
"Sorry," Adora said while closing her eyes. With a change of heart, she welcomed in her healing powers, and her ruined shoulder put itself back together with every wave of magic. Eventually only a dull ache remained, and an experimental roll of the shoulder was met with little resistance. By this time tomorrow, it'd be like she never broken it or gotten impaled.
Brick's eyes shifted towards something behind her, and her body tensed with the knowledge of what was to come. Some yelling, obviously. Some demand of an apology, as expected. But what exactly had she done? Adora turned in her seat, and gulped before looking between the tear streaked faces on Catra, Glimmer, and Bow. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"What's wrong? Did you really just ask me what's wrong?" Glimmer said, "How about the fact that my fucking best friend just let my fucking son do that!"
"Do what?" Adora asked. She glanced at Brick, who just stared at the ground.
"Partcipate in that fucking sport," Glimmer spat, "And that's a weak word. How about unnecessarily violent spectacle that can only be described as barbarism?"
"I don't understand. I thought we all agreed this was okay?" She looked at Bow for help but he stayed silent. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it was an issue. Jousting is just like that. It's just a game. None of it was real."
"Oh, ya? Was my son's blood being spilled just a game? Was that fake? Because it looked pretty fucking real to me." Glimmer's jaw jutted out and her eyes burned with a maternal protectiveness that Adora understood well. A lot of blood had flowed, that was true enough, but between her and Brick they could heal any wound. All of it was temporary. But then she thought about watching either Reyna or Finn go through the same thing, and her stomach somersaulted.
"Look, Glimmer, I'm sorry." Adora pinched the bridge of her nose. "I see now how it must've been horrible to watch. I should've known better than to let Brick participate."
"Yes, you should have." She turned to look at Brick, and her gaze immediately softened. "Now, come on. We need to get you cleaned up before the feast. And let's have a healer look at your leg. And Adora's shoulder."
"Mom, it's…" he trailed off when Glimmer's expression grew angry once more. "Alright, lead the way."
She watched the trio leave before turning her attention to Catra. Adora opened her mouth to say something, maybe apologize, but Catra was pulling her into a hug before she could get a word out. "You're covered in blood," Catra whispered, looking up into Adora's eyes.
"Ya, but I'm okay now. I honestly had a lot of fun. It kinda reminded me of the Horde, and the games we used to play. It's different when you have something to lose, you know? I mean, winning feels so much better. And, hey, now I can tell the kids that their mom is the galactic jousting champion." Adora paused for Catra's commentary, but none came. "You're not mad, right?"
"Actually," Catra started, "I'm seething."
"Oh…wonderful."
...
Author's Note: Thank you for the follows and favorites! And reviews are much appreciated!