Adora paused, her fist raised in front of the door. Was this really worth it? It was early—too early, even by the Fright Zone’s strict, relentless schedule—and Scorpia wouldn’t appreciate being woken up for something so trivial. But on the other hand, it wasn’t as if Adora was getting any sleep herself, and Scorpia had said that she could come find her, if she needed someone to talk to…

Adora took a deep breath, and knocked—loudly enough to be heard inside, but quietly enough that she wouldn’t disturb Scorpia’s neighbours. After a few moments, the door opened, and Scorpia stood in the doorway, blinking sleepily down at her.

“A-Adora? What’s the matter? You look awful!”

“I’m sorry,” Adora said quietly, as Scorpia all but pulled her into the room. “I couldn’t sleep again. Can we talk? It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk, I just needed some company…”

“We can talk,” Scorpia said, her voice soft. “Let me put on a kettle while you tell me what’s wrong, kiddo.”

Adora perched herself on the end of Scorpia’s bed, and flashed her partner a grateful smile. “I had another nightmare about Catra,” she admitted, before shaking her head. “No, not Catra. She-Ra. There’d been a battle, and we’d lost, and She-Ra was striding across the field and… you know how she always looks almost happy when fights go her way? Like she’s relishing in the victory? I was on the floor, hurt and begging her—begging Catra—to just help me up, and she was walking towards me with that look in her eyes, and she hates me, Scorpia, and I don’t know what to do—”

Strong arms wrap around her shoulders, and Adora leans into Scorpia’s embrace. She hadn’t even noticed that she was starting to cry until she blinked, feeling the dampness on her lashes. After a moment, Scorpia pulled back, her claws resting gently but firmly on Adora’s shoulders, and her face inches away, a lopsided, reassuring smile on her lips.

“This isn’t about your dream, is it?” Scorpia asked. Adora opened her mouth to reply, but the words wouldn’t come—she shook her head, sucking in a shaking breath. “I know Catra means a lot to you, and that isn’t going to go away overnight. You shouldn’t expect it to!”

“B-but Shadow Weaver said—”

“Shadow Weaver is a fine leader, Adora, but she’s not really the best person for emotional guidance.” Scorpia grinned. “Can you imagine asking her for advice with a crush? She’d probably be all, ‘You’re letting yourself get distracted, these feelings are a weakness, you must conquer them so that we can conquer Etheria!’”

Adora laughed, despite herself, chuckling quietly. It felt like sobbing. There was a whistle and a click, and Scorpia rose from her slouch and walked across the room, pouring two cups of tea and leaving them to steep.

“If you ask me, I think you need to find a way to talk to Catra, somehow,” Scorpia said. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve both got a lot of things left unresolved between you that are hurting you. Some closure could be good!”

“I don’t want closure,” Adora muttered. “I want Catra.”

“I know,” Scorpia said. “But she’s with the Rebellion now, and I don’t think she’s coming back any time soon. If you don’t get closure, you’re going to have this hanging over your heads every time you fight, and it’s going to make you miserable, Adora!”

Adora took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say that all I need is closure. How, exactly, am I going to get that? The only times Catra and I see each other these days are on the battlefield.”

For a moment, Scorpia frowned in concentration, before her eyes widened and her jaw slacked, her mouth forming a little ‘o’ of surprise. “I… I have an idea,” she said, quietly. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it…”

---

“Sparkles! What new princessy hell is this?”

Catra stood in the doorway, brandishing a pale blue scroll in the air. In front of her, Bow and Glimmer appeared momentarily frozen, huddled on a cushion in Glimmer’s bedroom, a similar scroll open on the floor next to them. She could see the way their faces lit up as they looked her over, and even before Glimmer could start talking she was regretting asking.

“You got your invite too?” Glimmer appeared next to her in a shining flash of magic, and Catra had to catch herself from taking a step back. “That’s great! We were worried Frosta wouldn’t send you one since… y’know, you’re only a part-time princess and all.”

“Why are we having a ball in the middle of a war? Do you princesses not have any priorities right now?”

“Catra!” Glimmer stared up at her in shock. “The Princess Prom is a time-honored tradition, hosted every decade for hundreds of years to foster a spirit of unity and camaraderie between the princesses. It’s a rare opportunity to socialise, to network, to relax from the stresses of running entire kingdoms! It’s the most extravagant event in the Etherian social calendar, and a princess’ first Prom is a huge and important rite of passage and—”

“What Glimmer means,” Bow said fondly, his hand resting on Glimmer’s shoulder, “is that this is really exciting for us. She’s been waiting for this for almost her whole life.”

Glimmer nodded enthusiastically, almost bouncing on the spot in excitement.

“And besides, if you’re really worried about the war effort—”

“Of course I’m worried about it!”

“—then we can take the opportunity to try and get Frosta onside,” Bow finished. “The kingdom of Snows is neutral in the war, but has strong defenses and a military presence comparable to Brightmoon. If we can win Frosta over, it’ll be a huge boost to the Rebellion.”

Catra frowned. She hated to admit it, but Bow had a point—Brightmoon’s army wasn’t powerful enough to take any ground back from the Horde, but with Snows onside they might be able to push in from the north and reclaim some ground…

Still, it’d be a party full of princesses. Hardly Catra’s idea of a good time.

“Fine, I’ll come to the stupid party,” she muttered. “At least if I’m there I can make sure you two don’t mess up the diplomacy.”

Glimmer huffed, pouting and folding her arms across her chest indignantly, but beside her Bow smiled, soft and warm. “Great!" he said. "In that case, I’ll leave you two ladies to sort out your outfits!”

“Wait, what?” Catra stopped as Glimmer’s eyes lit up, a hairbrush mysteriously appearing in her hand as Bow pushed past Catra. “No, Bow, c’mon, don’t leave me with Sparkles! She’ll make me wear a dress or something!”

“What’s the matter, Catra?” Glimmer grinned, winking at her. “Is the mighty She-Ra afraid of a makeover?”

As Glimmer approached, hairbrush raised, Catra swallowed, hesitated, and then, all thoughts of decorum lost, tried to make a break for it.

---

Catra stood in line with Glimmer, her eyes wandering as she took in the sights. The Kingdom of Snows was a beautiful place, if a little too cold for her tastes, and the castle was as gorgeous as Brightmoon’s, a far cry from the desolate, harsh architecture of the Fright Zone. Beside her, Glimmer shivered, and Catra smirked.

“Should’ve worn a jacket, Sparkles,” she said, quietly. Glimmer stuck her tongue out in response, and Catra rolled her eyes, letting her gaze wander over the crowd. A lot of people had already arrived, princesses and other assorted nobility from across Etheria mingling in crowds around the ballroom. On a balcony, Catra spotted princess Entrapta, standing by herself, muttering into some device; by the buffet table, princess Mermista and the buffoon Sea Hawk were talking with a couple of princesses Catra didn’t recognise.

“Do you see Bow and Perfuma anywhere?” Glimmer asked. “I know Bow left before us to meet up…”

“I haven’t spotted them, no,” Catra replied. “They’ll be here soon enough, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” Glimmer muttered, as the last couple ahead of them ascended the steps to greet the host. “Why would I be worried? There’s nothing to worry about. It doesn’t matter whose guest Bow is!”

Catra held back a sigh. This was why she was here—there was no way that Sparkles was going to be in the right headspace to make any progress with Frosta. Someone had to keep their eyes on the prize, after all.

The two of them walked up the steps, and bowed to Frosta. Beside her, Glimmer recited the traditional greeting, and Catra inclined her head in acknowledgement as she was introduced. There was something that didn’t feel quite right about being introduced as She-Ra, but if the surprised gasps from around the ballroom were anything to go by it had at least gotten everyone’s attention.

“You are welcome in the kingdom of Snows under the ancient rules of hospitality,” Frosta said, her face a mask of formality. Impressive, for one as young as her. “Leave conflict at the door, and please enjoy the ball.”

“Shall we find a spot to go wait for Bow?” Catra asked, as the two of them descended the stairs from the throne. “Maybe find somewhere with a good view of the door, and the queue?”

Glimmer nodded, her face twisted in an unreadable expression. Catra grimaced, but put a hand on her shoulder. “You know it’s all going to be fine, right? You and Bow are, like, disgustingly inseparable.”

“I’m sorry,” Glimmer said, as Catra led the two of them over to a quiet-looking spot at the side of the room. “I’m just… Promise you won’t be mad, okay?”

Catra frowned, but nodded. Glimmer took a moment to steady herself.

“It’s just… with everything you’ve told us about you and Adora”—Catra sucked in a deep breath, her claws digging into her palms—”I worry, y’know? I used to think that Bow and I would always be best friends, but now we’re meeting all these other people, and what if he likes them more than me? What if… what if he leaves?”

“He’s not going to abandon you, Glimmer,” Catra said, quietly. “You two have something special. Even I can see that.”

Glimmer closed her eyes, her face scrunched up in worry. “You and Adora had something special, too.”

“Yes,” Catra replied through gritted teeth, “but unlike me and Adora, you two aren’t actively fighting a war against each other. If that’s what it took to tear the two of us apart, you and Bow are going to be fine.”

Catra let her eyes wander once more around the ballroom, scanning over the line of arriving guests for Bow and Perfuma, as she heard Glimmer’s slow, calming breaths beside her. She wasn’t going to let herself get distracted by… whatever this was between Glimmer and Bow, or by thoughts of Adora. She had a mission, dammit, and nothing was going to come between her and completing—

For a moment, the world stopped, and all that Catra could see was the young woman in the red dress, standing nervously at the back of the queue, her gaze darting around the room, searching. Adora’s hair was tied up, held in place not with her usual, practical hair-tie but with a gorgeous, dagger-like pin. Her dress was long, pinched in at the waist by simple cord, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. And then her eyes met Catra’s, and she beamed, and before she knew it Catra was taking a step towards her…

Glimmer’s voice dragged her back to the present. “What’s is it? Have you seen them?”

“No,” Catra replied, not quite able to tear her eyes from Adora. “Not them.”

---

Catra was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, once she and Scorpia had greeted the hostess. Adora couldn’t keep herself from smiling, at that—it might have been bittersweet, but there was something genuinely pleasant about Catra waiting for her.

“Catra,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s good to see you!”

“What are you doing here, Adora?” Catra’s voice stung. Not that Adora could blame her—it wasn’t as if she’d given any warning that she’d be here. “How did you even get in?”

Adora felt her smile faltering, and plastered it back into place. “Catra, this is Force Captain Scorpia,” she said, hooking her arm around Scorpia’s claw. “She’s a princess, and she invited me along as her plus one.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Catra,” Scorpia said, smiling warmly. “Adora’s told me a lot about you.”

Catra frowned. She seemed wary—of course she would be wary, she had every right to be wary of enemy soldiers in territory that was, in all but name, on her side, even if only the Rebellion would use such underhanded tactics. “If the Horde breaks hospitality—”

“We would never!” Adora said. “This is a purely diplomatic outing.”

Catra’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and for a moment the two of them simply stared at each other. Then Scorpia cleared her throat. “I, uh, well I’m going to check out the buffet… table… You come find me when you’re done here, okay Adora?”

Adora nodded, and flashed Scorpia a grateful smile, as her partner stepped gingerly through the crowd of princesses, her tail and claws held tightly to her side.

“So…” Catra began. “That’s Scorpia, huh? Seen her around a few times. You two pair up a lot?”

“Yeah,” Adora said with a shrug. “She’s a bit more experienced, which is nice while I’m still learning, and I think we work together quite well.”

“That’s cool.” Catra nodded, her lips pursed tightly. “Glad to see you’ve replaced me so quickly.”

“Repl—replaced you?!” Adora’s jaw dropped. “Catra, she’s not a replacement for you! Shadow Weaver asked us to work together, and now she’s doing me a favour, but she’s not my best friend, or even close to that. Do you really think I’d be here if she was?”

“I don’t know, Adora,” Catra said, her voice quiet and cold. “I don’t know why you’re here in the first place. And you can drop the bull about diplomacy—we both know the Horde doesn’t do diplomacy with princesses.”

“I’m here to see you, Catra! I’m here because I wanted to try and smooth over…”—Adora gestured between them, her voice rising, though she never quite yelled—”this. Us. Every time we see each other we end up fighting and—”

“We’re on opposite sides of a war, Adora,” Catra interrupted, deadpan. “Of course we’re fighting.”

Adora threw her hands up in exasperation. “You know that’s not what I mean! Ugh, you can be so annoying, Catra!”

There was a moment of silence, as Adora registered—too late—how loud she was talking. Catra flinched away from her. The weight of dozens of eyes fell on her, and her shoulders sagged beneath them.

“Shadow Weaver was right,” Adora muttered. “This was pointless. I’m going to get some fresh air.”

---

Bow took slow, calming breaths as he walked over toward the cloakrooms. What was wrong with Glimmer tonight? She was being completely ridiculous! Talking about forgiveness like he was the one making things weird, all while going out of her way to avoid him and turn down opportunities to spend time together! He needed some distance, and he needed some time to think, and he needed—

“Hey, Bow.”

—well, he certainly didn’t need her.

“Catra,” he said, curtly, “now really isn’t the best time…”

“I need your help,” Catra said, falling into step beside him. “You’re… good. With friendship stuff. I’m not.”

Bow stopped still. “What are you talking about?”

“Adora’s here,” Catra said. “And I don’t know why, but I said something stupid and I think she’s mad at me.”

“Okay,” Bow said. “Back up a second. Adora’s here? As in, Force Captain Adora, the one who leads strike teams for the Horde on valuable missions against princesses, is here at a party hosted by and for princesses, and you’re worried because she’s mad at you?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Catra said. “She said she was going for some fresh air and then she all but ran out of the ballroom. What should I do?”

Bow closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was too many levels of weird, but if Catra was finally opening up… “Well, it sounds like she wanted to cool off. She didn’t say she was going home, did she? So I imagine that once she’s calm she’ll be ready to talk again. And when she is, you’re going to apologise.”

“Right,” Catra said. For a second, Bow was taken aback—maybe his own experiences were clouding his judgement somewhat, but Catra was the last person he expected to be okay with apologising. “But do I go to her? Do I wait for her? What if she doesn’t come back?”

“I…” Bow shook his head. “I don’t know, Catra. You know Adora better than I do. What would she want?”

Catra frowned for a moment in thought. A dozen expressions flickered across her face—pain, regret, wonder, surprise—before she swallowed. “Okay. Yeah. Uh, thanks, Bow. Really.”

“Hey, it’s cool,” Bow said. “You know you can come to me anytime, right?”

Catra flashed him a grateful smile, and sprinted towards the exit. Bow shook his head as he watched her run, before another shiver reminded him exactly where he needed to be.

---

The view from the balcony of Snows Keep was gorgeous, looking out over a forest of snow-covered ferns under the shimmering of green and purple lights in the night sky. Adora sat with her legs swinging over the edge, one arm wrapped around the railing she leaned against. It was a far cry from the smoky plumes and towering wrecks of the Fright Zone, but the view left a bitter taste in her mouth, like everything she’d seen in the months since becoming a Force Captain. She should have been sharing these moments with Catra, like they’d planned.

Adora shivered in the cold night air, the chill of the ice against the skin of her arm not completely nullified by whatever princess magic held this castle together. Behind her, she heard the soft patting of footsteps on ice. She didn’t need to turn around. After a moment, she felt familiar hands placing a jacket around her shoulders, and then Catra was sitting beside her, staring out at the view with a frown.

“I’m sorry,” Catra said. “I was being an ass.”

“You had every right to be,” Adora replied. Catra turned to look at her, uncertain. “I did kinda show up without any warning. And we are enemies, technically.”

“I don’t want to fight you.”

“Me neither.” Adora’s voice trembled. “I’ve missed you, Catra.”

Catra didn’t reply. Her arm wrapped around Adora’s shoulders, and Adora let herself be pulled, resting her head in the crook of Catra’s neck. She was warm, and soft, and felt like home.

Minutes passed. Adora lost herself in the steady rise and fall of Catra’s breath, the gentle thumping of her heart, the comforting quiver of her purrs, and for the first time since Catra turned away from her at Thaymor Adora allowed herself to relax.

“So,” Catra said, at last, “you wanted to see me, huh?”

Adora chuckled. “Yeah. Scorpia reckoned that neutral ground would be a good place for us to get closure, but if I’m honest I just wanted to spend time with you, without all the fighting hanging over our heads.”

“You could’ve asked me,” Catra said. “It’s not like I have anyone else I’d bring as a plus one.”

“And how would I have done that? Sent you a letter?” Adora snorted. “‘Dear She-Ra, please may I come to the dance with you? Your mortal enemy, Adora.’”

The two of them giggled at that. “We laugh, but I would have said yes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Catra said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ve missed you, too, dummy.”

Adora grinned, wide and free. She twisted herself around in Catra’s arms, looking up at her; Catra was looking down at her, her eyes bright, a lopsided smile on her lips.

“I like the dress,” Catra said. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you in one, but… it suits you.”

Adora felt her face flushing, and she glanced away, out towards the trees. “Thanks,” she said. “I like your suit, too. Especially the jacket, which I might not give back. It’s warm.”

Catra laughed. Adora looked back up at her, grinning. “I’m serious.”

“You can have it,” Catra said. “I’m not exactly cold. You know, fur and all that.”

They were quiet for a moment. Behind them, Adora could hear the band strike up a gentle tune, soft and quiet, a steady beat pulsing outward. Filled with determination, Adora stood up, shrugging off Catra’s arm, and smiled down at her, her hand held out.

“Dance with me?”

Catra smiled, taking her hand in her own and pulling herself up. “Do you even know how to dance?”

“Scorpia showed me a bit,” Adora admitted, wrapping her arms around Catra’s shoulders as Catra’s arms slid around her waist. “I didn’t want to be underprepared for this, you know?”

Catra laughed, quietly. “Of course you trained for a prom. That’s so you.”

Adora laughed with her for a while, as the two of them swayed gently to the beat, spinning slowly on the spot. After a while, Adora spoke up. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For this.” Adora lifted her head from Catra’s shoulder and pulled back, Catra’s face just inches from hers. “I know that once all this is over we’re going to have to go back to fighting, and the war, but… just for tonight, it’s nice to forget about all that and just be us.”

“Yeah,” Catra said, her voice scratchy. Adora could see the damp of a tear forming in the corner of her eye—she lifted her hand from Catra’s back and gently wiped it away, her face flushing under Catra’s grateful smile. “This is nice.”

And it was. Adora felt closer to Catra than she had in years—not even when they were kids, huddling behind crates in whatever forgotten corridors of the Fright Zone that they could find, had she felt so free, so bursting with joy. And maybe that would make leaving at the end of the night all the more painful. Maybe, in the long run, Scorpia’s suggestion of closure would have been for the best.

But tonight, Adora thought, with Catra’s eyes wide and staring into hers, as they rocked to the beat of the sweet music behind them, she wouldn’t have had it any other way.



Explosions rocked the keep. Adora was flung to the floor as the ground beneath her shook, Catra thrown sideways from her. Adrenaline pumping, she sprung to her feet, glancing over at Catra, whose unspoken question of concern mirrored her own. Adora glanced towards the ballroom—the crowd was screaming, running in panic but without any coordination.

“We have to help them,” Adora said, turning towards the door. “You go grab the sword—we might need She-Ra to get people out if there’s structural damage. I’ll make sure the guests get as close to the exits as we can.”

Catra grabbed her wrist as she turned to go. “Be safe,” she whispered, her eyes pleading. Adora slid her arm through Catra’s hand, and gave it a squeeze with her own.

“You too.”

And then she was sprinting, desperately glancing around the ballroom—for danger, for Scorpia, for anything—until she reached the center. “Everyone listen up!” She called out as loudly as she could, drawing as much attention as possible. “We need to make our way to the exits, but do not panic! Now follow me, and stay calm.”

It felt a little weird to be ordering around princesses, of all people, but she knew the crowd was mostly neutral on the war, and mostly civilian. She’d trained all her life to protect the people of Etheria from the chaos that princesses could cause (whether they wanted to or not), and she felt her chest swell with pride as the people around her began to follow her, calmly, towards the nearest exit.

The sickening crack of ice breaking drew her attention. To their left, a pillar, weakened by the blast, creaked and began to topple forwards. One stray person—distracted? scared?—was directly in its path. Without thinking, Adora sprinted forward, tackling them to the ground and rolling them out of the way, just in time for the pillar to come crashing down next to her, sending shockwaves reverberating through her body. As the dust settled, she looked up at a pair of goggled eyes framed by a mass of purple hair.

“You… you saved me,” the stranger said, dumbfounded. Adora pulled her to her feet.

“Come on, there’s no time to lose.”

The door, thankfully, was unblocked—Adora shepherded the crowd past her outside, keeping an eye out for any stragglers and anyone left behind. As they passed her, people asked if she had seen their friends, their loved ones.

“Have you seen Mermista?” one particularly frightened-looking young man exclaimed. “I lost her in the panic and—”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know her,” Adora said, gently, as she had ten times already, “but I’m going to do everything I can to make sure everyone is okay. The best thing you can do for her is to wait outside.”

She still hadn’t seen Scorpia when she shepherded the last of the guests out of the building, and neither Catra nor She-Ra had shown up to help. Frowning, Adora made her way through the ballroom toward the cloakroom, glancing around desperately for the sight of a black dress or a glowing sword. Even as she walked, she could feel the keep continuing to rock and shudder.

“Catra?” she called out as she approached the cloakroom. “I’ve gotten everyone out that I can, we need to go, now.”

“Adora!” Catra’s voice came first, panicked and scratchy, before her friend stepped out into the corridor, fright plastered on her face. “Adora, the sword is gone. None of the staff are here, and I can’t find the sword anywhere!”

A small part of Adora cheered, at that—maybe, without the sword and without She-Ra, Catra might finally come home, and the Rebellion might fall—but the look of despair on Catra’s face dragged her back to the present.

“We’ll look together, okay?” Adora said, glancing nervously at the pillars around them. This part of the building still seemed to be holding up, at least. “But we haven’t got long. If we don’t have time to get it now, we’re going to have to come back for it once it’s safe.”

Catra nodded and Adora took a step towards her, even as Catra’s eyes widened and looked up, past Adora and to the door behind her. Twisting around, Adora saw a Horde transporter hovering by the balcony; from the cockpit, Scorpia was waving frantically with one claw, a familiar blue sword held firmly in the other. Beside her, Lonnie was focusing carefully on the controls; behind her, Kyle and Rogelio were keeping tabs on what looked like two prisoners from the ball.

“C’mon Adora!” Scorpia’s voice boomed, echoing out of the speakers even as Adora tried to process what she was seeing. “It’s time to get going!”

“You did this…” Catra’s voice was soft with surprise, before dropping into a growl. “You did all of this to distract me!?”

“Catra, I swear, I had no idea!” Adora pleaded, turning back. Catra’s face was carved with anger, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “You have to believe me!”

“Adora, we have to get going!” Scorpia’s voice was tinged with concern, too, and anxiety. Or maybe that was Adora’s own. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling anymore.

Adora glanced back at the transport, briefly, and then back to Catra. There was no time to choose, there was no time to think. Even as Catra mouthed, “Don’t”, her eyes pleading and afraid, Adora took one uncertain step back towards the transport, then another. It was, she supposed, how they’d both known the evening would have to end.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice choking, as she turned and ran towards Scorpia.