Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1 THE NEGOTIATORS

“Oh, hey, Catra!” 

“Scorpia,” Catra says, poking her head into the room. “Have you seen Adora anywhere?”

“Yeah, she’s at combat training. Why?” 

“We’re supposed to be having a strategy meeting,” Catra says, shaking her head fondly, and jogs off in the direction of combat training. 

Adora has taken a special interest in training cadets-- she thinks she’s qualified now, or whatever, just because she can fight sword and staff better than Catra and also do more push-ups in a row.  

(Okay, she’s definitely qualified.) 

Catra does indeed find her in the training room. At her entrance, the soldiers who are supposed to be in charge of training greet her with a chorus of “Lord Catra!” 

“Hi, I’m looking for my Lord.” 

Adora turns around from where she’s got her hands wrapped around some kid’s staff. “Catra!” 

“Strategy meeting.” 

“Oh, that’s right. I was just--” 

Catra grins. They haven’t scheduled the meeting’s start for another fifteen minutes. She knows Adora now. “You have ten minutes, or more if you can get back to the command room in under five.” 

“Oh, okay.” Adora turns immediately back to the training, sliding the kid’s hands further apart on his staff. She gestures at him to lunge again, and he does; she nudges his foot with her own. 

Adora’s extremely tactile with her training, and Catra thinks it might be her fault. 

Catra stays to watch ten minutes of training, after which Adora, mid-direction, says, “Two more minutes!” without even turning to look. 

So Catra stays two minutes longer. Adora gives one final nod to the cadets, and they respond with a chorus of “Thank you, Lord Adora!” 

Adora and Catra leave the room. 

“Three minutes to get back to command,” Catra says, faking annoyance. She uncrosses her legs and stops leaning against the wall. 

Adora grins. “Then we’d better--” 

Catra takes off-- 

“--run!” Adora finishes, and dashes after her. The floors make dull, loud sounds for each footstep they take, and the grating just before the command room rattles against its bed; Scorpia’s head comes out of her room. 

“What’s going--! Oh, it’s just you two.” 

“Hey, Scorpia!” Adora says. 

“Hi! I see Catra found you!” 

Adora waves as she’s pulled into the command room. 

Schedules are important for the Lords; even more so when they’re supposed to be having a meeting with each other. Both of their previous habits had been to work at something until it was finished and then pick up the next thing, regardless of what was supposed to be done when; when coordinating with someone sharing your position, that makes the overlap between schedules random and varying and for that reason useless. 

So, they schedule meetings now, and hold each other accountable for sticking to them. 

“Did we receive a reply from the princess?” Adora asks. 

They’ve been going back and forth for almost a year now. Brightmoon and Horde are in a cease-fire while they negotiate this meeting-- and, for that matter, the Horde is currently doing exactly no conquering. 

“Yeah, Gemma brought it in earlier.” 

They open the letter together. It’s on parchment, addressed to Lord Hordak in an exacting calligraphic script, and sealed with rosy-pink wax. 

Catra shakes her head, like she always does, at the color of the wax stamped with the triple-moon seal of the Princess’ correspondence, then digs off the wax with her nail. “Blah blah blah formalities-- okay-- meeting date confirmation, yes, three months from now, blah blah offers Brightmoon Kingdom’s Stonewoods City as a place of meeting.” 

“In Brightmoon!” 

“Yes; do you know where that is?” 

“That was the closest fortified city to Grayskull.” 

“Well, that makes sense, I guess. How far inside the border?”

“Three hour’s travel by horse, so two by speeder, I guess?” 

Catra nods. “First, we should probably move to Grayskull for now.”

“We also need to finalize what our position is--” 

“We should probably try to guess what points the Princess will bring up--” 

“Who will go with us--” 

“We’ll also need to figure out how to conduct a negotiation; I've never done that before.” 

“And,” Adora finishes, “Who will be Hordak.” 

Catra stops jotting shorthand notes down. “...I’d assumed it would be me.” 

“We’ve been sharing the job equally for at least two years.” 

“Yes, but--” Catra stops. Adora’s right, of course; her first campaign was two years and seven months ago, and that was the last job they hadn’t shared. 

“And you just admitted you haven’t done any negotiations before--” 

“So we have the same level of experience,” Catra says quickly. 

“Yeah, and I know Brightmoon better than you.”

“Wait, I know at least the things that Hordak should know about Brightmoon.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“So you know the Princess’s name?” Adora asks. 

“Glimmer," Catra answers promptly.

“And you know her full title?” 

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Glimmer.”

“And her military title?”

Catra winces. “Uh... head... general?” 

“A--”

“Army General,” Catra corrects quickly. 

Adora narrows her eyes at Catra, but Catra doesn’t back down.

Finally, Adora speaks again. “Technically, you passed, but I’m going to keep asking questions.” 

Catra nods and hides her grin by turning back to her notes. “Okay. Well, we can put off choosing Hordak for a week. Shall we get to the rest?”

...

Adora, being Adora, is taking the quizzing very seriously. She lays in their shared bed that night with her arms folded behind her head, on her back, staring at the ceiling, thinking. 

Catra tries to tug her onto her side. It doesn't work, so she flops down on Adora's chest, her face landing in the space framed by Adora's head and arm. 

"Comfy, Catra?" 

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"What questions to ask you. I’m trying to make them fair.” 

“Why?”

“So that I can prove I should be Hordak. It wouldn’t be a good proof if I cheated.” 

“You’re so precious,” Catra says with a soft laugh; if she were in Adora’s position, she would certainly cheat. 

As it is, right now, she redoubles her efforts and finally wrestles her girlfriend's hands out from behind her head to wrap them around herself. Adora shifts obligingly so they are curled around each other, legs tangling. Catra begins to hum. Maybe it'll make Adora sleepy. 

“I can feel the rumbles in my chest,” Adora giggles, like she does every time. 

"Shhh," Catra says, and squeezes Adora closer and falls asleep. 

...

Scorpia, Lonnie, and Gemma join Catra and Adora for lunch the next day, and Catra shares the news. 

“We’ll be leaving for Grayskull soon,” Adora adds. “Within the week.” 

“I’m going to make Gemma take all your correspondence,” Lonnie says with a teasing glance at Gemma. “Up for the task?” 

“Why are you making it sound scary?” 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Catra says. “I do all the planning; you just have to make sure you’re getting the right information to the right people so that they can carry out the instructions.” 

“That doesn’t sound too bad...” 

“There’s a lot of information and a lot of people,” Adora says. “But, hey, Lonnie and Scorpia will be doing most of the work, anyway. We’ll be busy negotiating.” 

“Good luck.” 

“Thanks.”

“Have you decided who’s going to be Hordak yet?” Scorpia asks curiously. 

Catra and Adora glance at each other. “We’re working on it.” 

“Catra’s been Hordak longer--” Lonnie says. 

“But Lord Adora knows Brightmoon Kingdom,” Gemma says. 

“Beat me to it!” Scorpia says, pointing at Gemma.

“That’s exactly what we said!” Catra says. “We’re working on it. Adora insists on quizzing me--” 

“I feel like this is a fair metric--” 

“What kinds of questions?” Lonnie asks. 

“Well, what’s the Princess’s full title?” 

Scorpia shakes her head. Lonnie crosses her arms and says, “Not my problem.”  

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Glimmer? Acting in capacity as Army General of Brightmoon?” Gemma says. “It’s on the stationary--” 

Adora nods and exclaims approval. 

“This is why you got the apprenticeship,” Lonnie laughs. “So, Catra, did you get it right?” 

“I did, thank you. Besides, I know everything Hordak should know, don’t I?” 

“Do you?” 

“By definition--” 

“I mean, we could always call ol’ Hordak up--” 

Catra laughs and waves that away. “He’s retired. I’m pretty sure that means he doesn’t want his replacements calling him up to ask how correctly we should acknowledge the Princess of Brightmoon.”

“Yeah, probably not.” 

“You know,” Scorpia says, “you do have the two armors-- you could both be Hordak.” 

“No!” Catra and Adora exclaim in unison. They share a glance in silence for a moment. 

“...well, we agree on that,” Catra continues. 

“Still not willing to let the illusion go?” Lonnie asks. 

“I’m not sure admitting to the Princess that my leadership is a big international lie is the way to start this meeting,” Catra says. 

“It worked on me,” Adora quips. “Well, mostly I was just too shocked at your appearance to focus my all on sabotaging the ship.” 

“I knew you were only with me for my looks.” 

“You got me. That’s why I turned traitor to Brightmoon.” 

Lonnie and Scorpia laugh. 

“Why did you turn traitor?” Gemma asks. 

Adora contemplates. “Mostly, I felt trapped in Brightmoon. I was nineteen and already knew my daily schedule for the rest of my life. Catra captured me and broke through the propaganda and taught me how to use a dagger-- and here I am.” 

Gemma nods. “Must be nice to have had that choice.” 

“Yeah. It was.” 

...

The next question Adora asks Catra is, “Who is the official leader of Brightmoon’s army?”

“The queen,” Catra answers. 

“So, why are we working with the princess?” 

Catra winces. “Uh, because... she’s... old enough to... help rule the kingdom?”

“Military leadership is traditionally passed down when the eldest son turns twenty--” 

“The queen doesn’t have any other children,” Catra cuts in, relieved to know this one. 

“And her--”

“Her husband is dead.” 

“Military leadership will be passed on again when...?” Adora prompts. 

“When... Glimmer gets married?” 

Adora nods and more questions don’t seem forthcoming; Catra breathes out a sigh of relief and moves from where she’s been frozen, about to pick a staff from the wall holders. 

“You know, it’s somewhat scandalous,” Adora says. “Twenty five, unmarried, not even a suitor.” 

“You’re twenty five and unmarried--” 

Adora shrugs. “That’s another reason I left.” 

Catra frowns. “What if she just wants to keep acting as the general, huh?” 

Adora plucks her own staff from the wall and taps it against Catra’s ankle. “C’mon.” 

“Yeah, yeah.”

Catra steps out to the center of the mats and settles into her staff stance, and Adora does the same. They begin to trade blows, back and forth in a pattern, warming up. 

“Were you really going to have to marry someone?” 

“Yes. Especially with no parents around, the social expectation was high.” 

“Any candidates?” 

“Jealous?” 

“Pfft.” Catra looks away. “No.” 

“Yeah, that was convincing,” Adora says, and switches the side she’s supposed to strike on, moving slowly enough that Catra should catch the change; she doesn’t, and Adora taps Catra’s ribs lightly. 

“Ow!” 

“Are you gonna fight me, or are you just gonna think about my potential marriages?” 

“Yeah, but you don’t-- well-- let’s just fight.”

Catra rushes back into the warmup, skipping the rest of the slow pattern to enter the fast pattern. Adora says nothing and goes along with it. 

...

Lonnie and Gemma are busy, so only Scorpia sees them off to Grayskull, shouting her now defunct phrase "Have fun storming the castle!" as the boat breaks away from the dock. They’re hitching a ride on one of the ships that travel consistently between Grayskull and the Fright Zone. A cohort of five guards chosen to attend the negotiations accompanies them as well. 

The trip to Grayskull goes well, but is largely work-filled; Adora and Catra are trying to get ahead so that they can focus solely on the negotiations once they reach Grayskull. 

On the fourth day, they pull into Grayskull Harbor. There are two large Horde ships parked alongside a trading vessel from the Kingdom of the Northern Cliffs and one that Adora and Catra can’t immediately place; probably just a trader from one of the islands in the south. It’s almost sundown, so any stalls they can see from the boat are closed or closing. 

Manor Grayskull has a chimeric look to it now. The manor itself encroaches onto the now unused fields, and the village has grown into a sea-trade town that stretches for the harbor. The orchard is larger now, but still well-maintained. 

Catra and Adora still have a place in the manor which they accept gladly. They’re greeted by Jack, the same commander who was originally in charge of the next town over; he also has charge of Grayskull. It’s slightly unusual, but then again, Grayskull never expected itself to be a proper town and is only just going that way now. 

“Lord Catra, Lord Adora, hello.”

“Hey, Jack,” Adora says. “I haven’t been here in so long. The town is looking well.” 

“There was definitely an absence to fill for sea trading. I wouldn’t be surprised if Grayskull really developed into something large.” 

Catra grins proudly at the harbor. “My finest moment, I think.” 

...

The next question Adora asks is about the correct way to address an advisor, and the order in which to address an advisor and princess; Catra gets both wrong. 

After explaining the correct answer, Adora says, “I was going to think of harder ones, but I guess we know, now.” 

“Well, you could just teach me.” 

“I could, but, Catra--” 

Catra laughs at Adora’s petulant tone. “You can be Hordak. I trust you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Besides, I rolled my ankle while we were sparring the other day--” Catra sticks her leg out and rolls her foot. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Well, the boots make it worse.”

“You know, it is your choice to add all those extra inches.” 

Catra waves that away. “You’ll be Hordak, and I’ll be advisor Catra.” 

“What’s your term of address?” 

“Huh? Oh, uh, hm.” Catra ponders that. “Uh, Counsel? I think that’s the term we used back in Halfmoon.” 

Catra so rarely talks about her home country unless she’s trying to develop titles and culture for Horde. Adora’s always curious to know more. “Did Halfmoon have one or many Counsels?” 

“One or two. I can’t remember.” 

“So I introduce you as Counsel Catra?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s solved, then,” Adora says, feeling all warm inside from Catra’s trust. 

...

Three months and a full ream of paper in letters sent later, Catra and Adora are preparing to depart for Stonewoods. Adora wakes and springs out of bed, excited. Catra rises slightly more sedately and dresses quickly: dark red, charcoal grey, and black, in the style of a crisp if slightly stiff suit. Underneath, she wears a training vest for protection. It doesn’t fully cover her sides, but it’ll hide underneath her clothes where armor would not. She leaves off the jacket long enough to help Adora with her armor. 

Together, they work through all the complicated pieces of the Hordak armor, and then Catra closes the faceplate over Adora’s face and they’re ready to depart. 

Adora and Catra ride at the front of the contingent of speeders, although Catra lags behind a little so that Hordak is in the lead. As they near the massive wrought-iron gates of Stonewoods, they’re taken in by a group of Brightmoon guards on horseback and brought to the cobble castle flanked with massive oak trees in the city’s center. Denizens of the city stare out of windows as they pass. Catra turns occasionally to look at interesting things in the city; Adora keeps her head forward. 

At the castle, they dismount. Opening the castle is yet another production; the doors are oak reinforced with iron and nine foot tall with proportional width. They open silently to reveal a great hall lit mostly with candles in sconces; the few windows are woefully inadequate. After the morning sun of the city, the hall is practically gloomy. 

Adora thinks briefly how they’d hold this meeting in the Fright Zone: the powerful indoor lighting and reflective metal surfaces combining to create a room that matched the luminosity of the outdoors, and then thinks again of how before she entered the halls, she’d expected of them the gloom she’s seeing now.

Princess Glimmer is standing at the head of the hall, with her advisor by her side. Adora notices immediately that she is standing on the small riser at the back of the room, and everyone else is standing off it, and she is still shorter than everyone except Catra. She is wearing, Catra thinks, too much pink for a serious meeting; then she recalls Adora’s horrid bathroom design before the manor’s redesign and wonders if this is just the aesthetic of Brightmoon. The advisor is to be addressed as Sir Bow, according to the correspondence and to Adora; he is a tall, fit, dark-skinned man who towers over the princess. He, too, is young for this; Adora had honestly been expecting someone old and wizened but Sir Bow looks barely older than herself. 

Sir Bow steps forth and Adora catches his hand to shake before he can bow. “Lord Hordak,” he says. 

“Sir Bow.” 

“If I may introduce you to Her Royal Highness Princess Glimmer of Brightmoon, Army General.” 

“Pleased to meet you in person, Princess Glimmer. Thank you for your invitation to Brightmoon and Stonewoods,” Adora rasps through the mask, and inclines her head barely. Princess Glimmer does the same, unsmiling.

“Thank you for your participation in this meeting.” 

“This is my advisor,” Adora adds. “Counsel Catra.” 

Catra, too, shakes Sir Bow’s hand and performs a shallow bow for Princess Glimmer. The guards are dismissed to stand further away, and Catra and Adora and the Princess and Sir Bow sit down across a small table that has clearly been brought in for this purpose. 

The Princess seems determined to show no fear throughout the negotiation, but Adora can tell that the Hordak visage and voice is as off-putting as intended. Princess Glimmer speaks much more than her advisor does, only deferring to him in the case of pulling exact statistics about her country, which he looks up in a small magenta-covered notebook. Catra has her equivalent in an average-sized manilla folder, but she and Adora both have memorized the vast majority of the statistics they need, having spent weeks planning their precise position on any topic. Catra barely speaks at all. Adora darts a glance out of the corner of her eye. Catra looks unusual; she’s so typically standing or in motion or lounging with her feet kicked up on the table, but now she’s sitting straight and still and quiet. 

Princess Glimmer reiterates the plan she's proposed over weeks of letters: an end to the war in return for a one-time exchange, from Brightmoon to Horde, of land, a portion of which she sketches on a map Sir Bow brings to the table. She justifies it with all the Horde soldiers who won’t die fighting for it. It’s an almost trivially small portion, but Adora is meant to propose an unthinkably large swath, and then they’ll argue back and forth, and eventually they’ll attain the amount of land that Brightmoon is able to give and Horde won’t be insulted by. 

Adora then introduces her and Catra’s contribution to the scope of the treaty: an invitation to a mutually beneficial trade agreement. As large as Brightmoon is, it shares the most border with Horde; it is also easier to trade with Brightmoon than to constantly be sending resources across the ocean that splits Grayskull from the Fright Zone. 

The negotiations take hours and are ensconced in banal formalities. Adora feels bad for the guards, who have to stand the entire time. As the negotiations drag on, Adora twice barely catches herself before calling Catra ‘Lord’, and wonders how many times Catra’s almost voiced ‘Adora’. 

The meeting is winding down and nearing its conclusion when Princess Glimmer suggests stopping for a meal. Adora and Catra are both hungry, and besides, when neither of them immediately reject the offer, the Princess passes a message to a guard and before they know it, food is being prepared. 

And then Adora remembers she can’t lift the helmet to eat. 

She sits up straighter in her chair and studies Princess Glimmer’s face. She looks... she knows what position she’s just put Hordak in. From the way her expression is barely this side of neutral from a scowl, Adora determines the Princess is not going to make navigating this interaction easy for them. 

Adora turns her head to Catra. They’ve agreed that they do not want to reveal Adora’s gender, face, or real voice. 

Catra nods. “I’m afraid we must decline the meal. We will eat when we return to Grayskull.” 

“The cooks are already preparing dinner,” Princess Glimmer says. “They were looking forward to showing you what Brightmoon has to offer.”

“Give them my apologies,” Adora says.

“May I ask why you are rejecting my offer of a meal? In Brightmoon, it’s considered polite to offer your guests food, or at least tea. I mean no insult.” 

Adora nudges Catra’s foot with her own, one tap for ‘ truth’.  That’s a problem, though; they have to come up with an answer. 

The first thing Adora thinks of replying boils down to “Yes, you can ask, but we will not answer,” but that is rude; they’re being rude by rejecting the meal in the first place. 

They also shouldn’t lie, or that’s Adora’s opinion on the subject; they shouldn’t develop any more lore for Hordak that the two of them have to live up to. By the way Catra taps Adora’s foot-- once-- truth-- she believes the same. 

Time is ticking for their answer and Adora blurts, “I will not remove my helm during a negotiation.” 

Which is, fully, the truth. 

Adora’s departed slightly from her typical Hordak cadence, but hopefully not enough that anyone gets suspicious. Princess Glimmer and Sir Bow look surprised at her admission, but though the Princess appears to try to come up with a further question without being rude, she says nothing other than to mention to the guard that actually, they will not take a meal. 

They resume negotiations and the meeting eventually finishes. By the end of it, Adora’s hunger is more noticeable, exacerbated by the thought of the meal she could have had; she wants to go back to Grayskull. 

She stands. Tomorrow, they’ll come back with maps and papers and official wax seals to finalize what they’ve agreed upon; they’ll probably have to work on it the next day, too. For now, Adora shakes Sir Bow’s hand and then Princess Glimmer’s, and Catra shakes Sir Bow’s hand and bows to Princess Glimmer, and they march out of the hall with their five guards in tow and two more of Brightmoon’s escorting them out. 

Another small contingent of Brightmoon guards picks up at the hall’s exit to lead them out of the city and then out of Brightmoon. At the border, they nod and leave back in the direction of Stonewoods. Catra and Adora and the guards carry on to Manor Grayskull. 

They dismount; Adora lifts her helmet and says, “I should have known they’d offer us a meal.”

“It’s fine, Adora. It’s dealt with now, isn’t it?” 

“I doubt it. The princess is too curious. She’s going to come up with something else and we’ll have to be ready.” 

“She can’t offer us a meal again--” 

“No, she can’t. I imagine she’s thinking of other ways to get me to remove the helmet, though.” 

Catra makes a face as she stretches out her arms, then picks up one of Adora’s hands to unclasp and remove the glove. Adora uses her free hand to work on the other glove while Catra addresses the plate over her arms. “Are we going to make excuses forever?” 

“This may...” Adora pauses, and thinks about what she means to say. “This may cement whether or not you can ever reveal Hordak’s identity.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, if we ever lie, then we can’t renege on a lie, which I think you knew...” 

“I did.” 

“If we even imply something that’s a lie, and we ever decide to reveal our identity, it could break her trust in us.” 

Catra sighs. “The easiest thing would be to-- rip it off like a bandage. Reveal your identity now.” 

“We’ve already lied once by calling you an advisor.” 

Catra curses. 

“I agree,” Adora says, “that we should reveal sooner than later, and potentially during these negotiations, but I’m just pointing out a flaw.” 

Catra finally finishes the straps on the chestplate and removes it from Adora; someone knocks on the door to inform them that dinner is ready for them. “Do you want to take your tunic and boots off before--” 

Adora is already out the door. 

...

“Maybe she won’t think of anything,” Adora says over dinner. “Is that too wishful?” 

Catra shrugs. “We should try to work efficiently tomorrow. Don’t leave her room to ask any more questions.” 

“Prevent a third day of negotiations?” 

“Yes.” 

“That would help.”

“How confident are you that you can come up with more excuses?” Catra asks. “Keep them vague like that.” 

“I can manage.” 

“Good, because I wouldn’t even know what to plan for. What else could she try?” 

“She’d have to come up with a way to interact with us outside of negotiations. I did say that I wouldn’t remove my helm during negotiations.” 

“What way would that be...?”

Adora shrugs at that. “I don’t think this is a Brightmoon-culture question anymore. I think it’s just a question of Princess Glimmer's personality.” 

“Then it’s decided. We wing it.” 

Adora laughs and returns to her dinner, and Catra does the same.

Chapter Text

2 ON THE EXISTENCE OF HORDAK

“Ready for another five hours of this?” Catra asks, holding up the heavy boots.

“You say that like that’s not what I have to do every time we go on campaign,” Adora says, stepping into one. 

Once Adora has successfully been rearmored, Catra puts on a different shirt and different jacket-- this is the last of her suit-style outfits, and she will have to restyle if the negotiations carry on beyond today. 

They arrive at the castle in Stonewoods once more, and once more are greeted by the Princess and the advisor. 

Catra slings off her shoulder the bag that contains their box of rolled maps. Brightmoon's are already on the table. Adora greets Sir Bow and Princess Glimmer, then sits to look at the map. 

There's no information to glean from the Brightmoon maps. They only address areas on this continent that Adora and Catra have already charted-- most of it is Horde territory, anyway. The section Brightmoon is aiming to provide is a stretch of land that pads out the connection between the Grayskull area-- this area-- and the northernmost section of Brightmoon territory that Horde captured. 

Catra thumbs through the maps and picks the one that also does not leave the continent, then sets it down beside Sir Bow's. Together, the two of them begin to cross-check the maps, becoming fully absorbed in the task.

Adora somewhat helplessly sits back, then notices that Princess Glimmer is doing the same. She tries to pick up a conversation. 

"Sir Bow is young for an advisor," she starts, awkwardly, trying to be admiring. 

"And yet more than capable," the Princess says quickly, narrowing her eyes. Adora winces. She continues, "Your Counsel Catra is young as well." 

It's a little derisive. 

Catra is murmuring to Sir Bow at a terrifying pace, and presumably not paying attention to Adora's conversation. "Counsel Catra is very good at her job." 

"I didn't know what to expect from you," Princess Glimmer says, "and still, there are mysteries to me." 

Is she going to ask about the mask outright? 

"Our customs are very different. You shake Sir Bow's hand." 

"Yes, I do." 

"But Catra bows to me." 

"She didn't want to offend." 

It was actually Adora who insisted on the bowing. Catra was prepared to shake Princess Glimmer's hand regardless of how much she was learning about Brightmoon culture, and acquiesced only on the grounds that Adora wouldn't let the Brightmoon advisor bow to her. 

"And yet you risk offending me by offering my advisor the same greeting as myself." 

Sir Bow looks up at Princess Glimmer. His expression is neutral save his slightly raised brows. 

"I think a person I'm meeting should face me and shake my hand. In the Horde, I do not tolerate officers who cannot look me in the eye." 

Adora wonders if she's messed up, then. The phrasing betrays the way she doesn’t wear the mask around her officers, if the Princess is shrewd.

"Do you meet them behind your mask as well?" Princess Glimmer asks. 

So she has messed up. The Princess caught her slip. 

Adora will not lie, and this question has a yes or no answer; it's hard to formulate a half-truth. 

"I do not." 

“But you don’t show your face during negotiations with Brightmoon.”

“No, I do not.” 

“Every day, I become more enlightened about Horde customs,” the Princess says. Adora swallows soundlessly. That hadn’t been a good tone of voice. 

The Princess observes Sir Bow and Catra working still; they're charting, using the figures derived yesterday, the extent of the land. This task will take protractors and compasses and pens-- and hours, presumably, with little input from Adora and Princess Glimmer. 

(In Adora's case, no input whatsoever, as Catra is capable of speaking for Hordak as much as she is. But Brightmoon does not know that.)

Princess Glimmer stands abruptly. Adora kicks Catra so she knows to pay attention. 

"While Sir Bow and Counsel Catra are working, would you like to take a brief tour around the castle with me?" 

“Shouldn’t we stay here?” Adora asks helplessly. “Surely we could further the negotiations...”

“Sir Bow and Counsel Catra have an hour of work,” Princess Glimmer points out. “We’d just be in the way. Meanwhile, if I can’t extend hospitality through a meal, may I extend it through a tour of the castle?”

Oh, guilt-tripping, then. Well, not guilt; propriety, maybe. Adora almost laughs at that thought. 

She would indeed be rude to refuse. 

“I would love to see Stonewoods Castle,” Adora says, standing. 

Sir Bow sits straight and, when Adora walks around the table to join Princess Glimmer, half-turns in his seat to observe; the Princess gives him a wave and he turns deliberately back toward the work. 

The Princess leads the way out of the room they're in to a broad staircase. Adora sighs. Stairs-- really any time she has to bend her knees excessively-- are not her favorite while in the armor. 

Once she's clattered awkwardly up the stairs, Adora is led down the hall some ways in near silence except for the clank of armor and swish of a gown. 

Finally, after pointing out none of the incredible tapestries or gorgeous architecture they’ve passed, the Princess says, “I’d love to learn more about Horde culture. After all, we’ll be working together for quite some time.”

“We’ve been corresponding for almost a year,” Adora adds. 

“Yes, we have. So, I understand that Horde has an interesting military structure. You fight on the front lines?”

“Yes, I do,” Adora says.

“Is this the same armor you use to fight?”

Adora lifts her left arm; there’s a dent scored with a sword’s slash lain prominently on the armor piece. “The very same.” 

“Is this not a peaceful negotiation?”

“Of course it is,” Adora says immediately. 

“Then, Lord Hordak, I hope you understand that if we are in no danger from you, then you are in no danger from us. I should have made you feel welcome enough to remove the mask.”

Princess Glimmer pauses, and waits for Adora’s reply; there’s none, so she continues with a smile as sweet as spring. “Please take off the mask, Lord Hordak.”

...

Back at the negotiation table, Sir Bow rolls up one map, then puts down the tools for a moment. “Should we take a break as well?” he suggests, too casually, stretching his arms above his head.

“We should get this done as efficiently as possible,” Catra says, annoyed.

“What, looking to get out of here soon?”

“I’m just tired of maps.” 

“So walk with me. If Glimmer and Lord Hordak can take a break, so can we.” 

Catra eyes the compass in her aching fingers with disgust. “I’d really rather finish.” 

“You don’t look like it.” 

She finally groans and stands. “Where are we going?” 

“That way,” Sir Bow says, and points towards the same stairwell that Adora and Princess Glimmer had taken.

...

“I’m really not comfortable with that,” Adora growls through the voice modulation. “Feel free to ask about Horde custom...” 

“Oh, I will,” the Princess assures her. “After all, like I said, I would love to know who I’m working with.”

“I’d like the chance to ask a few questions of my own,” Adora says. “Especially as we’re opening trade between our nations.”

“Once the treaty’s signed,” the Princess reminds. 

“Of course. Once the treaty is signed. What did you want to know?” 

“Why don’t you remove your mask during negotiations?”

“I show my face to very few people,” Adora says honestly. “I am the leader of my nation, and that means in addition to leading, I must inspire and reassure my people. As long as I wear the mask, I remain a constant image for them.”    

...

“So, why does he wear the mask?” Sir Bow asks casually. 

“I’d never dare to question my Lord,” Catra says, “if I were a foreign advisor.” 

“So, you can’t tell me?”

“Well, who am I to tell you?”

...

“So why take it off for your close officers?”

“I have a different relationship with the highest ranked and most trusted subjects...”

“Is your Counsel Catra one of those people?”

“She is-- my closest confidant,” Adora says. 

...

“I’m just a counsel,” Catra says. “I’m sure it’s just like your relationship with the Princess. What is it like, working with her?”

...

“It’s beyond our relationship to ask, I think,” Princess Glimmer says musingly, “but if I offered to take you away from any other eyes in this estate, would you allow me to see your face? From one political figurehead to another. To be frank, Lord Hordak, it is hard to trust a man whose expressions I cannot read.” 

“I am... hesitant...”

“It will be fine, Lord Hordak. The secret of your visage would stay between us. After all, since I am in no danger from you, you are in no danger from me.” 

Oh. 

That’s a threat, that is. That’s a declaration that the Princess is treating her as actively hostile for as long as she wears the mask. 

And it’s her own damn fault for wearing armor and a sword to a negotiation with a Brightmoon Princess. 

Adora makes an ugly expression under the mask where the Princess can’t see. 

“Princess,” she says slowly, “I’d be honored to show you my face.” 

...

When a flash of pink disappears around a corner and Sir Bow subsequently whips his arm around to loudly point out a tapestry to Catra, she groans. Out loud. 

“What? It really is a gorgeous example of the highly saturated colors from the Passionism period of--” 

Catra brings her hands together and says in a voice strung tight, “Sir Bow, I think it’s unbecoming of the both of us to pretend we’re not following her Highness and my Lord.”

Sir Bow sighs. “Forgive me for wanting to follow my Princess when your Lord is armored and armed and she’s in a gown.” 

“Good,” Catra says, and pats him on the shoulder. “Of course, your Princess will be perfectly safe, as long as she does not commit such breaches of trust as asking my Lord to remove his mask.” 

They stare at each other for a moment. 

“Shall we keep walking?” Sir Bow asks, his voice reaching an incredible high pitch. 

“We shall,” Catra says, smiling, and her nails dig into his skin as her hand leaves his shoulder. 

...

Shock, or slow reveal? Adora thinks. Shock? Slow reveal?

As a Brightmoon Lady, Adora hadn’t fainted when Hordak had abruptly lifted his mask for the first time. Then again, she’d been suspecting something was off. It was the way he’d sauntered instead of walked, the way he’d been kind to her-- no, that second one didn’t apply here. 

Well, she could saunter, at least-- or do her own equivalent: the walk of a Brightmoon Lady. Adora starts to shorten her stride and roll her shoulders up-back-down into position, just the way her mother taught her.  

“So,” Adora says conversationally, “I haven’t met the-- a Duke of Stonewoods yet. ...Or is this castle your own?” 

“No Duke here,” Princess Glimmer says. “Unfortunately, he died heirless. The castle fell to disuse. His cousin has land to the east, and ensured that this city would stand by itself before returning to his own.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” Must have been recent; the Duke had been in good health last Adora knew.

“Thank you. Horde must have Dukes as well?” 

“Nothing of the sort. We follow solely military ranking in the capital. Outer villages always become self-governed.” 

“I see.” 

“It’s a good system,” Adora says. 

“As opposed to ours?” 

Adora shuts up at the hostility in Princess Glimmer’s tone before she can explain herself further. 

...

“We’re here,” Sir Bow says. 

“Yeah,” Catra says, and crouches; her fingers play over the knife in her boot. 

...

“We’re here,” Princess Glimmer says. 

Adora hesitates. “Are you sure you’re prepared to see my face?”

“Something to hide?” 

Adora growls and slides her helmet off in one smooth motion. “Here!” 

Her voice rings in the courtyard, carrying in the way Hordak’s deep growl never does. It rings in the dead air between her and the frozen Princess Glimmer. 

The Princess stares. 

Then she yells. “I knew this was some deceit!” 

“You WHAT?”

"You're not Hordak," the Princess continues, and steps forward to jab her finger at Adora's chest. "You can’t be Hordak. You are some other official that Hordak's sent in his place, aren't you? Are we and our peace treaty not good enough for your leader, Horde?!" 

Adora was not expecting this approach. "Why can't I be Hordak?" 

“Hordak is-- Hordak is male!” 

“Well, yeah!” Adora says helplessly. “That’s what you’re supposed to think!” 

“Well, where’s your male Hordak, huh?” Princess Glimmer asks, and spins around dramatically as if looking. 

“It’s me! I’m Hordak! Princess, look at me. I took off my mask for your trust!” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t want to, because you knew I would find out Hordak sent an imposter in his place!” Princess Glimmer says, smug. “What are you going to do now that I’ve gotten you away from everyone? Kill me?”

“I don’t know, your Highness, I thought we’d--” Adora throws her hands in the air-- “bond over being women in power. You’re twenty five, unmarried, surely your country is pressing--” 

“Oh! What does that matter to you?” 

“I’m just saying, it must be hard--” 

“Hard to deal with me? I’m more than capable. Besides, my marriage was being saved.”

“That’s not what I-- saved? For who?”

“For Hordak,” Princess Glimmer says, and crosses her arms. “Why do you think I wanted to see your face? I didn’t want to marry someone whose face I’d never seen.” 

“Well,” Adora says, “you can stop saving it now, seeing as I’m--” 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re Hordak.”

Princess Glimmer stops and takes in a breath. Adora says nothing, hoping that maybe some part of her horrible attempt at convincing has gotten through. 

Then the Princess’s smugness returns in full force, and she says, “Well, if this is really who Horde wants to send to facilitate their negotiations, then, fine. I actually have a fine candidate.” 

“Candidate?”

Princess Glimmer snaps her fingers--

And someone steps out from behind a pillar--

Adora’s sword is out of the scabbard before she can blink. “Sir Bow?!” 

He drew his own sword only seconds after Adora. “Uhh, ma’am,” he says. 

“Sir,” corrects--

“CATRA?!” 

“Sorry, Lord,” Catra says, dusting the leaves off her suit coat as she stands from behind a bush. “It’s ‘sir’. When you’re referring to my Lord.” 

“Thanks,” Adora mutters. 

“Oh, uh, also, Sir Bow and I reached a stopping point and decided to take a walk. It’s so weird that we’re here together.”

“Counsel Catra,” Princess Glimmer says disapprovingly. 

“Anyway,” Sir Bow says, “the marriage?”

“Right. Yes. Since the Horde sent a woman in place of Lord Hordak, and I do hope they’re more committed to this treaty than they are to truth, we can offer the hand--”

Oh, no, no--

 “--of Sir Bow.” 

No! “But I’m engaged!” Adora blurts, which is, of course, exactly the wrong thing to say. 

Because she’s well within her rights to rule that Horde doesn’t seal treaties with marriages, but she’s gone and done this anyway for herself-- no-- to herself and Catra. 

Speaking of. “Engaged,” Catra repeats with a hiccup in her voice. 

Adora winces. “I mean, Princess,” she says, “actually, it’s not customary in Horde to ever offer one of our people’s marriages in order to seal a treaty. I’d never think to sell-- um, I mean, I will respectfully celebrate our cultural differences, but we will not have a marriage for this treaty.” 

(Princess Glimmer is looking murderous at her again. Wonderful.) 

“Princess, Horde will honor this treaty,” Adora says. “I humored you by taking off my mask because you wanted to see how attractive my face was--” 

Princess Glimmer sputters.

“--but I think we should go back to mapmaking for now.”

And, both sides thoroughly insulted, they do. 

...

Though they finish the maps, the negotiations aren’t done, especially after the day’s escapades.

That means they'll be back the next day. In advance, Princess Glimmer invites them once more to lunch, in the castle and without guards, now that both she and Sir Bow know Hordak's secret.

Catra and Adora leave that meeting more than a little shaken.

“I forgot about that horrible practice,” Adora says. “Arranged political marriages. I should have remembered.” 

Though Adora is focusing on her suddenly tenuous position with Brightmoon, Catra has other concerns. 

"Engaged, Adora?"

"I-- I told you what that means in Brightmoon." 

She... had, kind of, but only by way of indicating the difference between Halfmoon traditions and Brightmoon ones. Not that they’d talked about it at length, either. From what Adora knows, people in the Horde generally do not let politics, parents, and other outside influences into their engagements-- as Adora has just done. 

"Hordak isn't engaged," Catra says uncomfortably. She folds the chainmail tunic and puts it aside before starting on Adora's boots. 

"I suppose we are now. At least to Brightmoon."

"Perhaps you should have asked first, though," Catra mutters into the metal she's holding, but doesn't seem to want a response. 

"I shouldn't have said it," Adora admits. "I was just startled."

"You looked it."

"Can we put this aside for now? I'm really concerned about our status with Brightmoon--" 

Catra does drop it, and they begin to discuss the politically relevant parts of that meeting. For Sir Bow's part, he seemed entirely prepared to forge ahead with arranging borders and writing up documents, but Princess Glimmer was calling the shots. 

“Look,” Catra says finally. “Now that we know why Glimmer wasn’t married, we also know that we’ve left her without options, right? Her position of power is getting shakier, and a treaty would cement it. Besides, what does she have over us? Our identity, and she doesn’t even believe it?” She shakes her head. “I know we were thinking of coming clean once we were in peacetime, too. She’s handed us even more advantages, and she’s gotten none in return.” 

"So you think today has no bearing on the treaty." 

"Not so much, no," Catra says. "To be honest, Adora, I thought she was mostly startled." 

"You mean, not so much distrustful."

"Yes. She’ll come through. She has to.” 

“And if she doesn’t?”

Catra shrugs. “She needs the peace. If this treaty falls through, so does our cease-fire. We could pursue trade with the Kingdom of the Northern Cliffs and Evenneia instead, but she can’t win a war against us.” 

Adora sighs and sloughs off the last of her clothes. "I guess we don't need to pursue this further, then. Bath?" 

"Yeah." Catra strips quickly to join her. 

...

That night, Catra falls asleep before Adora, curled into her side. Adora lays flat on her back awake, one arm cradling Catra. 

She's still disturbed by the day's events, and she doesn't think it has anything to do with Princess Glimmer's upcoming choices. Catra is right-- the Princess will come through, or Brightmoon will be in trouble. The something else, though-- the thing Catra seemingly dropped earlier-- the marriage proposal-- 

Adora is more tired than she thought; her thoughts escape her like little birds and she falls asleep. 

...

Ultimately, the Princess decides to continue with the treaty. 

"Have you figured out your beliefs about my identity?" Adora asks curiously, as they're being led to a private dining area. 

"I have my doubts that you're Hordak," Princess Glimmer says finally, "but I do believe you lead-- or help lead-- Horde." 

"That is enough for me," Adora says with a shrug. "Thank you for following through with the treaty." 

"It's--" Princess Glimmer says, and then stops speaking. She gestures to their seats and takes her own when Sir Bow pulls it out for her. "Never mind. You're welcome." 

For the first time, Catra sits against the back of her chair and kicks her feet out a little. Adora glances down and gets a tiny shrug in response; apparently Catra is intent on lowering the formality. 

There will be several courses brought in in a row; the Princess has already informed them that the staff is sworn to secrecy, though.  Catra mentioned to Adora that in the event the servers do gossip, it's a nice soft introduction to their identity anyway. Adora removes her helmet and her gloves. 

"Those gloves look so well-made!" Sir Bow exclaims.

"It's fairly impressive armor," Catra says with a nod, "if outdated." 

"Outdated?" 

"My armor wasn't upgraded with the soldiers'," Adora explains. She debates revealing much more of the deception, and finally does say, "It looks more impressive."

Sir Bow seems to understand. "We haven't done much experimentation with armor." 

"Bow!" Princess Glimmer says a little warningly. 

"The treaty is all but signed," Catra says placatingly. "All that's left is the ceremony of it."

The ceremony of it is little more than top officers from both nations standing in the meeting hall while Princess Glimmer and Lord Hordak jointly sign the final document. Even so, it'll take an hour. They are doing it tomorrow. 

Catra's words work to ease the Princess's mind. Meanwhile, Adora digs into the first dish, which is something rather intensively Brightmoonean. Adora likes it and Catra finds it somewhat bland. 

"What's this dish?" Adora asks purely for fun. (Elberon Salad, named after the region, although it's more of a grain dish.) 

Sure enough, Princess Glimmer replies "Elberon Salad." Catra's nose crinkles as she appears to visibly suppress a protest about exactly how salad-like she finds the dish. 

"Take a roll," Sir Bow offers. Adora does. There's a swirl of herbs layered with bits of salty meat inside, which makes the roll more interesting than anything she ever ate-- maybe being royalty does have its perks even over being a lady. Then again, the capital of Brightmoon is much more south than Grayskull, and maybe the cuisine honestly is different. There was an emphasis on fruit, berries, and red meat in the north. 

If this were a normal business-meal, they'd be discussing the treaty through it, but they've put it off so long already that there's no point in doing that. There's a minute of awkward silence broken only by the clanking of silverware before Princess Glimmer says, "So--" 

Adora looks up expectantly. 

"So, uhh--" 

She seemed to have wanted to begin a conversation more than she had something to say. "How do you like the food?" 

"I've never had these rolls before," Adora says easily. "They're fun." 

Catra takes a dainty bite of her 'salad'. She'll enjoy it more when the meat dishes are out.

"They're from the south of Brightmoon," the Princess boasts, which explains why Adora hasn't encountered any quite like them. "How does it compare to Horde fare?" 

"It's very fresh," Catra says. While it's no trouble of theirs to procure fresh fruits, it's true that many foods in the Fright Zone have gone through some kind of preservation process before they're eaten.

They work their way through a several-course meal. The talk is mainly about food, which Adora would have thought was safe, until Princess Glimmer mentions that a certain preparation of meat is from "the northern Brightmoon coast"-- i.e., Manor Grayskull's area-- and Adora knows that to be false. 

She gets as far as "Well, typically, the roasting process is only an hour long--" before she realizes how quiet Catra has gotten. 

Princess Glimmer does not seem to have processed what Adora's confidence means yet, but Sir Bow looks suspicious. Adora finishes hastily, "--or so my general at Grayskull tells me." 

"Ah, yes, your first bite of land to the north," the Princess says coldly. 

"It's... developing well-- into a sea-trade town." 

"Of course." 

Flustered, Adora keeps speaking. "It's a nice place." 

"I haven't visited in a while, seeing as it's no longer within Brightmoon." 

Adora finally shuts up. Although they've been dragged firmly three steps even further back on the amicability of their relationship to Princess Glimmer, it seems that at the very least, this blunder has covered her other blunder. 

"We could take you on a diplomatic trip sometime," Catra says. "We could go to the Fright Zone, as well." 

"I've been so curious about that," Sir Bow says. "Is the whole city really underground?" 

"Yes. It's all artificially lit, too." 

He nods enthusiastically. "Well, I hope we can visit some day." 

At the meal's conclusion, Catra and Adora stand to leave. In a lull in activity, they catch a moment alone together, and Catra says, "We should make a plan to make a statement. What better time than when we're announcing a peace treaty?" 

"Yes, I think you're right."

"Conspiring?" Sir Bow says out of nowhere. Catra and Adora jump apart. "I'm joking. I came to say the guards are ready to escort you."

"Thanks," Adora says, slipping the helmet back over her head. 

As she strides across the hall, she sees Sir Bow whispering in Princess Glimmer's ear. They're both staring at her. 

"Should we address it?" she mutters to Catra. 

"Address what?" Catra says, but with enough bite to indicate that she isn't actually confused. 

"Very good, my Lord," Adora says, as she so often responds-- only mostly jokingly. 

They leave and Adora nods to the Horde and Brightmoon guards both, then swings her leg over a speeder and leads the pack home.

Chapter Text

3 THE BORING PART

It's the day they are to sign the treaty. Catra has been working with limited formal suits, but has finally run them dry. 

"I have dresses," Adora says.

"I hate them." 

"You haven't seen them all," Adora says placatingly. "it's better than repeating an outfit."

"You're repeating outfits!" 

"That's different, and you know it."

Catra grouses and scrapes through her clothes one last time as if the stained white workout shirt will magically become acceptable for this meeting. "Show me one of your stupid dresses." 

Adora drags a heavy chest out of the back of the closet and opens it. She begins to pull yards and yards of fabric from it in a variety of colors. 

"You wore all of these?" Catra asks, picking up the discards and tossing them on the bed. 

"Yeah, I did. This is what being a lady is." 

"Tedious."

"Very. Oh, I found it."

Adora lifts from the chest a dress in a dark true red. "Try this." It’s wide-skirted for freedom and sleeved not dissimilar to Catra’s workout tanks. 

Catra groans and takes the thing with a two-fingered grip. "I dislike it."

"Put it on."

Catra strips and begins to pull the dress on. "I never should have let you be Hordak for these meetings." 

In response, Adora only picks up the sash and reaches around Catra to tie it on her waist. "You'll be okay." 

Catra pats the sash. "If you say so. Will you do my hair?" 

Her hair has long since grown back to the length it was when Adora first met her. Adora agrees and plaits it into two braids that follow the curve of her head like a tiara. 

Once she's done and has wasted the ribbons she'd originally meant for her own hair on Catra's, Catra stands and grabs the ribbons that she'd tried and failed to hand to Adora and ties Adora's hair for her. 

"I can do it myself--" 

"You did mine," is all Catra says, and then she does Adora's hair with no further complaints from Adora. 

They work together to get Adora adorned in armor, and then it's already past time to leave, so they rush down to the speeders and-- 

"Sidesaddle," Adora says after Catra's spent five seconds staring at the speeder without getting on. 

"What?" 

"Both legs on one side of the speeder." 

"This is humiliating," Catra grumbles, and sits. 

They go. Catra clings to her handholds with an iron grip, and Adora turns every fifteen seconds to check on her, but they make it to the castle at Stonewoods just fine. 

"You look nice," Princess Glimmer says, after they've done their whole process of greetings. Catra bows regardless of her dress, but then again, Adora would have never gotten her to curtsey. 

"Thanks. It's--" 

She'd been about to say "It's Adora's," a deflection away from the concept of her owning a dress, but of course she can't say that. "--a friend's... recommendation," she finishes lamely. "Let's just get to the signing." 

Princess Glimmer certainly takes her time setting up the papers. She's pushed one around the desk for about a minute now. Catra, hovering while Adora talks quietly to their own guards, finally snaps, "Can you really get it more perfect?" 

"No, I guess not," the Princess responds.

Catra turns (and steps on the hem of the dress, again), then stalks in some direction at random-- towards Sir Bow, as it turns out. 

"Everything all right?" he asks. 

"Why wouldn't it be? The treaty is about to be signed." 

"You look tense," he offers.

"Forgive me, but yesterday, Her Highness still seemed hostile towards us."

"...She'll honor the treaty," Sir Bow responds after a moment. 

Catra presses her lips together disapprovingly, but says nothing yet. 

"Lord Hordak?" Princess Glimmer calls from the table. Adora's head doesn't immediately whip around-- but Catra's does.

Sir Bow frowns. 

"What is it?" Catra snaps, realizing the mistake she just made-- Adora's mask came off, and she thinks it's the time to be sloppy?! 

"Lord Hordak--" 

"What about him?" 

"...do you really still say 'he' and 'him'?" 

"Well, yes, Hordak is male," Catra says without a second thought. 

"Oh, of course. My apologies." 

Adora and Princess Glimmer are at the table. After a few moments, Adora seems to be dismissed and walks over to Catra. Sir Bow walks over to the Princess to speak with her. 

"Hello, dear," Adora says immediately.

"Careful, my Lord," Catra says. "Do you think we've gotten too familiar with these Brightmooneans?" 

"Why?" 

"Because I do." 

"It will be fine. Princess Glimmer does honestly want what's best for her people, you know. And that is this treaty." 

"Yes, but she's a powerful leader, Adora. You know what they do. They lie." 

"Why would you assume that?" 

"Because we do the same?" 

"Ah. There is that." Adora shakes her head. "Calm down. It's almost time for the signing." 

There's an absurd number of Brightmoon officers walking in and out of the throne room. Adora and Catra watch the motion curiously until it grinds to a halt. The five other members of the Horde entourage are arrayed alongside the five chosen Brightmoon officers, and Adora (still fully armoured) and Princess Glimmer sit with their respective counsels at their sides. 

Princess Glimmer reads the treaty out in full. By the end, not a single person in the room-- the Princess included-- isn't yawning, but it needed to be done. Then, finally, the Princess signs and pushes the papers to Adora. Adora freezes. 

She doesn't know how to sign as Hordak. 

Catra's done all the signatures for their official correspondences. How could they have gotten this far--! 

People are starting to send her uneasy looks. She has to sign. So, picking up the pen, she does her best approximation of Hordak's angular scrawl and writes, "Hordak of the Fright Zone." 

When she puts the pen down, the ten accompanying officers clap politely.

There are copies of the treaty made by Brightmoon scribes, each of which get both party's seals instead of the more formal signature, and these are handed to members of each delegation who are tasked with immediately spreading the word to the country. Two of the Horde officers are dismissed for that purpose, although it seems Brightmoon's runners are different from the officers here to observe. 

Princess Glimmer stands and shakes Adora's hand. Then, she steps backward five paces until she's abreast of a guard, and then speaks in a chillier voice than she ever has--

"Detain them."

"What?" Catra screams. 

Guards lunge for Catra and Adora. Catra attempts to throw herself out of the way, but the dress-- that accursed thing!-- trips her up again and she falls to the ground. Her hands are pulled behind her back. "LET ME GO!" 

Adora, meanwhile, has drawn her sword and is actively in battle with two men. No, three-- no, four-- no, five-- though Adora was already overwhelmed and losing, a sixth man steps in and Adora goes down. Her helmet is pulled roughly from her head. There are some gasps. 

"Why?" she demands, panting. "Why? We formed a treaty!" 

"And the treaty will take effect," Princess Glimmer says. "You already sent your runners."

Adora, forced to kneel, glares up at the Princess. "I wish I hadn't." 

Nearby, the three remaining Horde officers are already fully subdued. Princess Glimmer speaks up again. "Take them to the spare rooms. Only the best for my peers."

"You traitor!" Catra screams as she's being manhandled away. "You backstabbing bitch!" 

"Don't talk to the Princess that way!" some officer shouts back. 

"She's lost every ounce of respect she ever had from me!" 

They're bundled out then, and taken down a hallway, and another, and another. Catra thrashes, but there's not much she can do against two men carrying her after they've tied her ankles and wrists. One of the guards pulls out an iron keyring and unlocks a solid wooden door. Catra is tossed inside like a ragdoll and the door is slammed shut and locked. The commotion of three officers being thrown in sounds just on the other side of her room's wall. 

"WHERE'S ADORA?" Catra screams as soon as she recovers from the wind being knocked out of her. She jumps at the door, rattling it.

"Who?" 

"HORDAK? WHERE IS SHE?!" 

She'd been led out ahead of Adora, and in the commotion, did not hear her being dragged after her. 

"She's coming, Horde Scum," the guard says, and then laughs a little. Maybe he's used this epithet on other captured soldiers. Maybe he's relishing its use again. 

Catra turns against the door. The room is-- oddly enough-- gorgeously furnished. Even more oddly, the wall at the back isn't a wall at all; it's metal bars, like a cell. 

So. They're high-class prisoners, but undeniably prisoners. 

Adora is delivered, yelling Catra's name, to the third 'spare room' in their row. Catra screams back an "I'M HERE!" at which Adora's voice breaks, and she stops screaming Catra's name in favor of alternating 'ARE YOU OKAY?' with 'LET ME GO, YOU BASTARDS'-- Catra knows which is for her. 

The guards lock Adora in, and then, the dark space behind the back wall slowly reveals itself to be a hallway as a guard walks down it, lighting each of the sconces. 

"Wait!" Catra yells at him as he passes. "I demand to speak with the Princess!" 

"Oh, don't worry," he says, finishing the one next to Adora and continuing on. "She has questions for you." 

He leaves, and a door at the end of the hallway bangs shut. The air is still. 

...

"Adora?" Catra asks. 

"Catra," Adora says, clanking over to the side of the cell-wall adjacent to Catra's. She reaches a hand through and Catra does as well. They're able to interlace their fingers. 

"Got your sword?" 

"No. I have all my armour, though. Are you injured?" 

"I'm just fine. Might bruise a little. You?" 

"A shallow cut, but it stopped bleeding already."

Catra sighs. "This sucks." 

Adora laughs tiredly. "I don't know what to do."

"There's nothing we can do. Is there?" 

"Wait for the Princess, I suppose." 

Their arms finally get tired, and they let go of each other's hands. They sit against the stone wall between them in a mirror of each other. 

"What did I do?" Adora asks suddenly. 

"What?"

"What did I mess up to get us jailed?" 

From two cells over, one of the officers mutters something about backstabbing Brightmooneans can't-trust-a-single-one-of-em, but another officer hits the first and tells them to get their fat nose out of the Lords' conversation.  Catra listens to that for a moment, taking far too long to respond to Adora's question. 

"We didn't do anything wrong," Catra finally says. "Not that I can tell." 

Adora sighs. "If they take us in for seperate questioning, I'm not going to lie, okay? I don't have any more in me." 

"Then we don't lie. And if telling the truth doesn't get us out, then a punch or two--" 

Adora laughs. Catra hadn't been joking, of course, but she laughs anyway. Then she turns, her armour clattering against the stone, to get her face as close as possible to Catra. 

"I love you," she whispers, too low for the officers to hear. Catra's hearing is good enough to catch it. 

"I love you too," Catra replies.

...

The Princess comes down with Sir Bow at her side and an entourage of six guards. Catra is lounging in one of the kindly provided cushy chairs. 

"Bit much for a girl behind bars, don't you think?" Catra says. 

"Both of you know how to fight," Princess Glimmer says. Accusingly. 

Catra shrugs. "I look after myself. Why are we in your spare rooms, Princess?" 

"Is treaty-breaking and conspiracy against the crown not enough for you?" the Princess spits. 

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. The only one here who's doing any treaty-breaking is the one putting the negotiating party behind bars." 

"One would think that for a treaty as important as this one, if you were providing an imposter as the face of Lord Hordak, your stories would match up better," Princess Glimmer says. 

"I thought we were past that," Adora cuts in. 

"I was prepared to set it aside. But, Sir Bow says he caught you two conspiring. Does a plan taking effect upon the announcement of the peace treaty sound familiar?" 

Oh. 

Catra groans and shifts to a more upright position. 

The Princess continues, "I took that event away from you, at least. The treaty is announced. I do intend to honor it." 

"It's a very bold thing to assume we won't go to war about this offence," Catra growls.

"I think that's Lord Hordak's decision, not yours," the Princess says, and turns to face Adora only. "Unless you aren't the real Hordak..."

"No. I'm really Lord Hordak," Adora says. "And Catra can speak for me." 

"Some power for just your counsel."

"She's more than that," Adora says, and does not elaborate.

"So who is the real Hordak?" the Princess says, and turns back to Catra. "Or, should I say, where?" 

Catra points. "You have her in a cell, continuing your affront to our treaty as we speak, madame." 

Sir Bow's eyes widen, and he raises an eyebrow in challenge as he moves to stand next to the Princess. "But, Counsel Catra, you said that you say 'him' when you're talking about Hordak." 

...She had, hadn't she? Damn. 

"Good catch," the Princess says to Sir Bow. 

"It's, well, it's--" Adora starts, so Catra speaks as fast as she can; Adora is likely to reveal a little more than they want to reveal at once. 

"Traditional," Catra says. "It's traditional. Like calling me Counsel, and calling Hordak Lord." 

"Respectful?" Sir Bow adds helpfully. 

"Yes. That." 

"That's an odd tradition," Princess Glimmer says unabashedly. "Almost like a woman isn't supposed to be in the armour." 

"Women are fit to lead!" Adora exclaims. "Surely you believe that!" 

"I don't believe the Horde believes that," the Princess doubles down, crossing her arms. 

"The second in command has always been a woman," Catra says crossly. "Now, if you're done picking apart my country's culture, what can I say to get myself, Hordak, and my officers out of your dungeons?" 

"Right now, don't say anything," the Princess says, and she stalks out of the hall, her questioning squad at her heels. 

...

Adora sighs and sits on the bed. "Catra, I know we agreed that it was time for Horde to know peace--" 

Catra nods, though Adora can't see. "I want to wipe the smirk off their stupid royal faces." 

"At this point-- well. They must know that we know that--"

"Adora--"

"--they need to hold us here until we agree that we won't go to war when we're released." 

"Well, why would we go back to war? They gave us such good accomodations, after all," Catra says sarcastically. "But, yes. How do you think they'll do it?" 

"It's more important to figure out if we should let them talk us back into their damned treaty."

"Well, should we let them talk us back into the treaty?" 

"I say we demand more land as reparations for this affront. If they don't agree, the treaty is off. We go back to Grayskull and lead a campaign on Stonewoods immediately."

"Feeling vindictive, dear?" Catra asks. 

"I've fought too hard for their trust."

"You have," Catra agrees. "So, I was eyeing those islands to the south that are nominally under Brightmoon control." 

"The chain just under the Kilosov territory?" 

"Yes, that." 

"That's good. I like that."

Adora sits in silence for a moment, then walks to the wall, pressing her hand against it. "Catra, I never apologized for treating you the way I did when we first met. Trying to kill you."

Catra stands as well. "Adora..."

"And I won't now."

"Good."

"I'm just so glad that we made it past that." 

"Even though it landed you on the wrong side of Brightmoon's cell door?" 

"Even then. Wouldn't trade this for anything." 

Catra laughs. "I'd put you on the other side of this wall, though. If I had my way." She slaps the stone. 

"Catra--" Adora says, sounding hesitant. But for a precious few seconds she does not continue, and then Princess Glimmer reenters the hallway before she can. 

...

"Do you actually have something to charge us with?" Catra heckles as the Princess reappears.

"Do you promise to behave long enough for me to transfer Catra into your cell, Lord Hordak?" Princess Glimmer asks instead. 

"Sure..." Adora says faintly. Assaulting someone now would put them back on the gaining-from-this front, unfortunately.

Catra's door is opened, and Catra removed, and then Adora's door is open and Catra is led gently-- not tossed-- inside. To their shock, the Princess follows, with her guards. 

"Can I get my sword back?" Adora asks. 

"No."

"Worth a shot." 

Adora and Catra are gestured at to sit, and they do, nestled together on the loveseat. The Princess sits on the bed less daintily than expected, and the guards and Sir Bow remain standing. 

"It's unnerving that I have no information about your nation," the Princess says. "It's also very hard for me to believe you truly want peace." 

"It's hard for us to believe you want peace, either," Catra grumbles. 

"Well, I didn't," the Princess says, with an honesty that shocks them all. "If I wasn't here under orders from the Queen, the offer letter would have never gone out to you in the first place." 

"You were losing, Princess," Adora points out. 

Princess Glimmer huffs and does not comment. "It's irrelevant. The treaty was drafted without the marriage that I'd originally intended, and you two were conspiring to some action the moment the news of peace went out." 

"Yes. The announcement to the world at large," Adora says, "of Hordak's identity."

The Princess goes still.  "...Oh." 

"Thank you for ruining our moment," adds Catra sarcastically, because it needed to be said. 

“Well, what about the fact that your stories don’t line up?” the Princess continues. “Lord Hordak tells me Catra is her closest confidant, and Catra tells Bow that who is she but a counsel...” 

Catra and Adora share a glance. Adora makes a face. Catra shrugs. 

“And,” the Princess continues undeterred, “the way you say ‘he’ or ‘she’ as if there’s a party involved in this whole identity business who isn’t female.” 

“There’s more,” Sir Bow adds. “There’s a hundred more clues.” 

“Everything points to deception,” Princess Glimmer says. “I said it before, but apparently it bears repeating. I don’t want a treaty that Horde won’t honor.” 

Catra rolls her eyes. “It’s all the identity. All we’ve done is keep secret who’s behind the armor, while you’ve insulted us and our culture and thrown us in a cell!” 

“For nothing,” Adora adds. “You don’t have a charge. You never asked nicely. You didn’t believe me when I told you the truth, and you decided to arrest us based on rumor.” 

“Not all of this can be chalked up to Hordak being a woman,” Princess Glimmer argues. 

“You’re right,” Adora says, but before the Princess can look too vindictive, continues. “I am going to tell you everything, but in return, you are going to make up for THROWING US IN A CELL!” 

The interrogation party flinches. 

“No, I am not the original Hordak,” Adora admits, and stands. “The original Hordak was male. When he retired, he passed his name, his armor, and his title down to his successor--” 

Catra stands. “Me.” 

Gasps. 

“I’m still young. And I chose someone to rule by my side. We share the work. Adora is Hordak as much as I am.” 

“Adora,” Princess Glimmer repeats. “So you do have a name.” 

“I have a name, and I have a story that fits all these little things that weren’t adding up, and now, your highness, I have some demands as reparation for, again, locking me in a cell.” 

“I-- what are your demands?”

“An amendment to the treaty.” 

“Already--? ...Go on.” 

“An island chain to the south of Kilosov. We’d discussed it earlier but ultimately struck it from the deal.” 

“Yes, I know the one...” 

“It’ll be added back.” 

“Look,” Princess Glimmer says, “we can’t just--” 

“Look,” Catra mocks. “We could go to war for this offense.” 

At that, Princess Glimmer nods to Sir Bow, who draws his sword. “War! We can make sure you never leave the cell alive!” 

“My second-in-command can lead a march on Stonewoods. What do you think, Princess?” 

“...fine. The amendment can be arranged.” 

They settle for a moment. Sir Bow sheaths his sword.

“I do, by the way, have a proposal for your, um,” Adora doesn’t laugh at this, “failed proposal.” 

“What?”

“I know that the treaty marriage ensures that each country has a stake in the other country. But we won’t do the marriage. So I’m suggesting ambassadors.” 

“Ambassadors?” 

“One Horde ambassador to Brightmoon City, and one Brightmoon ambassador to the Fright Zone. There will be your stake.” 

“We will add that to the amendment too,” Princess Glimmer says. 

“Why don’t we go back out to that table and draft it now?” Catra suggests sweetly. 

...

It goes quickly. 

It goes quickly because Catra reveals her impatience for formal language, and besides, both Princess Glimmer and Adora seem intent on getting the words down as quickly and cleanly as possible. 

They've also already done one treaty. What's one more?

Even so, it's hours later when the ink sits drying on the page as three Brightmoon scribes work frantically. 

"Princess," Adora says, as the two of them and Catra and Sir Bow stand in the corner. "I know how hard it must be to be a woman leader in Brightmoon."

"You're a damn bleeding heart," Catra says quietly but casually to Adora.

"Shut up." 

"I don't think anyone can really know what it's like to be the only child of the Queen in a country that expects male Army Generals," the Princess says bitterly. "I do my best, but I-- I don't always have the best methods. I should apologize." 

Catra and Adora wait. 

"Okay-- well-- I apologize. For my rashness in acting against you, and for my insult to your honor and trustworthiness." 

"Thank you," Adora says. "You're doing the right thing now, you know." 

"Well, of course you would think so." 

Catra laughs, and after a moment, the Princess and Sir Bow give a nervous chuckle as well. 

“Do you have someone in mind for the ambassadorship?” Adora asks. 

Princess Glimmer and Sir Bow trade looks, and then the Princess says, “I thought Bow would have asked for the position by now.”

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous or anything,” Sir Bow cuts in. 

The Princess shrugs. "He'll be the ambassador. What about yourselves?"

“Gemma, I think,” Adora says. “She’s a few years younger than myself, and apprenticed to our head commander.” 

Catra nods her approval. 

“Gemma’s been helping us throughout the letter-sending portion of the treaty, but I’ll formally introduce her soon.” 

“Are you staying on this continent, or going back to the Fright Zone?” Princess Glimmer asks. 

“We need to go back for our announcement,” Catra says, “But I think we should return with Gemma and introduce Gemma to you and Sir Bow to the Horde.”

One of the scribes runs up then, holding the freshly inked treaty copies; Princess Glimmer takes them. “We’ll send these out as well,” she says, resigned.

“I know prisoners of war are common in negotiations,” Catra quips, “but when has a prisoner ever negotiated for themselves?” 

Adora finds it funny, of course, but does not laugh out of respect for the fact that Princess Glimmer looks both like she wants to die and like she wants to punch Catra square in the face. 

“We’ll be leaving now,” Adora says, and she takes her portion of the copies and she and Catra leave Castle Stonewoods as the sun sets over it, far later than they’ve left any other day this negotiation.

Chapter Text

4 THE FRIGHT ZONE

They’re on the ship back to the Fright Zone the next morning. There's no sense in sending a letter that will go on the same ship they do, so they don't. Their arrival will just be a surprise. 

As always, Scorpia greets them as they step off the ship, sweeping them into a hug and exclaiming that she hadn’t expected them back so soon.

“You finished the treaty?" 

"And its first amendment," Catra boasts. The amendment went out to the Eastern Continent portions of Horde a half-day behind the treaty, but the ship to the Sun Continent had waited for Catra and Adora. 

"We have a big announcement to make," Adora says, falling into step with Scorpia as they walk down the hallways. 

"Oh, you do? This is so exciting! I'll get Lonnie and Gemma!" Scorpia squeals. Catra and Adora trade nonplussed looks.

"Of course," is all Adora says. 

Scorpia leaves them in the dining area of the officer's lounge and runs off, presumably to find Lonnie and Gemma, but also apparently to order tea brought. Adora stretches out, welcoming the feeling of real cushions and full couches, and Catra does the same, tucking herself into Adora's side. 

"Glad we're home," Adora says, running her hand through Catra's hair.

"Mhm. I even missed Scorpia; can you believe it?" 

"You can't fool me, darling. I know you love her." 

Catra rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. 

"What does she think we're going to announce?" 

"Hell if I know. Baby on the way? Are you glowing, Adora?" 

"That's what you thought of first? We're not even married y-- married!" 

"It's all I could think of! What do people announce?" 

"Their plan to reveal a seven-year-long international deception--"

Catra shoves her, which may have even been warranted. As Adora's careening off the couch for dramatic effect, Scorpia re-enters with Lonnie, Gemma, and a tray with tea and snacks. As soon as she’s set the tray down, she’s leaping up again. “Ooh! Should I get Kyle and Rogelio?”

“They’re not really... necessary...” Catra says. 

“Aw, Catra, we haven’t seen them in a month.” 

So Scorpia’s off again. Neither Kyle nor Rogelio hold a high enough position in Horde to have any bearing on the announcement situation, but it’s not like they’re not going to hear it anyway. 

“So,” Lonnie starts, “How did it go?”

“It was--” 

“Long,” Catra says. “So long.” 

“Eventful,” Adora adds. “I like Bow well enough. I think Glimmer is, um.”

“Yeah.”

“So we’ll wait for Scorpia for your elaboration,” Lonnie says. 

“That would be best. Might as well only tell it once.” 

Scorpia reenters with Kyle, Rogelio, two more mugs and another tray of snacks. They all sit. “Well?” she demands, taking a small sandwich and leaning forward on her elbows with entirely more enthusiasm than the situation warrants. 

“Um, Catra and I are going to reveal to the rest of Horde and the world that we share Hordak’s identity,” Adora says.

Scorpia looks devastated. 

“What?” Adora asks in a panic. “Should we not? We’ve already been putting this in motion--” 

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine. I’m happy for you, I really am. I can’t wait to help you share the news!” 

Because it’s Scorpia, and because Scorpia can’t fake an emotion to save her life, Adora and Catra believe her. They’re confused, though. At least Kyle looks confused as well; Lonnie and Rogelio are snickering and Gemma is projecting a desire to stay out of whatever Scorpia thought was going on. 

“What did you think we were going to announce?” Catra asks finally. 

“Well, you know. Something more personal.” 

“What could be more personal than this?”

Scorpia mimes zipping her lips as not to elaborate. 

Adora shakes her head. “Well, we’re trying to plan the announcement. We were going to do this simultaneously with the conclusion of the treaty, but things didn’t go quite as planned.”

“What happened?”

“Should we tell it from the beginning?”

They tell it from the beginning, through Adora’s walk and the meal and the finalizing and the arrest and subsequent addendum to the treaty. Their audience of five is appreciative and gasps at all the right spots as they work their way through tea and trays of snacks. Once the story and snacks both have been finished, Lonnie announces, “It’s probably good Adora’s Hordak, because I would have drawn a sword on the Princess then and there.” 

“Yeah,” Catra agrees. “It’s possible to work with Brightmoon, but apparently only if everyone involved keeps their temper. Speaking of which, Gemma, how do you feel about an ambassadorship?”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you. What, did you think you were apprenticing for nothing?”

“Lonnie’s far too young to retire,” Adora adds with a laugh. 

“I... I accept,” Gemma says hesitantly, then turns to Lonnie, “if that’s all right.”

“Catra and Adora outrank me,” Lonnie reminds her.

“Great,” Catra says. "We're going back to Grayskull as soon as we're done with all the announcing, so Gemma will come with us then." 

The talk turns to the announcement. They get to brainstorming, figuring out exactly what to reveal and how to disperse the information and what tone to take and what words to say and, according to the more frivolous of the group (grumbles Lonnie), what flavor cake to have at the little coming-out party Hordak will be thrown. 

"No," Adora says. 

"Adora, please," Catra says. 

"Fine, we can have the damn party. Just us, though, okay? No big deals." 

Catra and Adora groan at putting any of their planning to ink, so they iron out the details verbally and Gemma takes their notes. Catra relishes using as much foul language in the process as possible, and Adora refuses to speak in anything but absolutes; it ends up being fine, of course, because this is Horde, not Brightmoon. 

(So very tired of propriety.) 

...

After they've finished (what they’ve determined to be) enough of the treaty, Rogelio takes it upon himself to walk them through the Fright Zone, pointing out any changes since their departure (few; it's only been a month). It gives Catra and Adora time to catch up with him and Kyle both, at least. Lonnie, Gemma, and Scorpia had had things to do. 

"Rogelio, you must know what Scorpia thought we were announcing." 

Rogelio smiles, shrugs, and claps Kyle on the back, bringing him into focus. 

"Why me?" Kyle asks. "I don't know what she was thinking." 

Rogelio reaches out, taps the side of Kyle’s head twice, and makes some gesture that’s at the wrong angle for Catra and Adora to interpret. 

"Rude," Catra says.

“I really don’t have a guess, I swear,” Kyle says. “The only thing she’s been talking about is engagements. Nothing to do with Hordak at all.” 

Rogelio smacks his forehead. 

“Engagements?” Catra says. 

And then-- 

“ENGAGEMENTS?!” Adora yells. 

...

Adora comes to a skidding halt in front of Lonnie. “I fucked up,” she pants.

“Already?” Lonnie asks, unimpressed. 

“What do you mean, already--” 

Kyle had followed her here, and due to a ferocious growth spurt in the past five years, had kept up without a problem. Rogelio is with Catra. The fact that they’re separated-- Adora and Catra, that is-- is either a very good thing or a very bad thing. 

“Kyle?” Lonnie prompts. 

“My Lord yelled ‘engagements!’ ran directly to you, Boss.” 

“I-- I-- well--” 

“I mean, Adora did say she didn’t have anything to announce, though,” Kyle adds, tapping his chin. “So Scorpia had thought that my Lords were getting engaged, I guess? But clearly that’s not the case.”

Adora recovers her breath. “Stop fucking with me, Kyle!” 

Kyle bursts into laughter. “You got engaged! And you didn’t tell us!”

“I forgot!” 

“You forgot?” Lonnie’s single raised eyebrow practically reaches her hairline. “You got engaged to your girlfriend and you forgot?”

“Well, I didn’t ask her?”

“Was that a QUESTION, ADORA?!”

...

“Hey. Scorpia. What do you know ‘bout proposing?” Catra asks all casually, like she didn’t just cover half the Fright Zone just to bother Scorpia at her job.

Scorpia squeals. 

...

Adora finally gets the story out to Lonnie. Catra does not tell Scorpia. Rogelio makes judgy faces at her and she tells him to shut the hell up. 

“But he didn’t say anything?” Scorpia says. 

Lonnie agrees with Adora that it’s a mess. “Well,” she says, “you said she seemed upset?”

“Yeah. Well, I figured, I don’t know. We've not really talked about marriage before. She was mad that I didn't come up with an excuse that wasn't a lie." 

"That's what she said?"

"Well, I'm paraphrasing, but yes."

Lonnie mutters something under her breath. 

“So what do I do? Engagement customs in Brightmoon are different than in the--” 

“You’ve said.” 

“In fact, what kind of engagement customs do we have?”

“A wide variety. Many of them stemming from ancestral nations, Adora of Brightmoon.”  

“I’m not of--! Oh, shit.” 

“You know, you could just propose to her again, but properly,” Kyle says, and goes unheard. 

...

Lonnie should have been back by now, checking up on her, Gemma thinks. Maybe she got held up at her own office? Gemma’s done the half-day’s work of apprenticing, and the half-day’s work of reading up on ambassadorship, so she packs up her notes and heads to Lonnie’s office. 

Adora, Kyle, and Lonnie are all there, poring over some papers. Gemma knocks on the doorframe as a courtesy and enters. 

“What’s happened?”

“Did you know that some of the southern jungle nations have different engagement lengths based on your societal rank?” Kyle says. “You can reduce the length of the engagement by proving you’re both worthy spouses.”

“Fascinating,” Gemma says. “...Why?”

“Well, we’re trying to figure out if Adora’s actually engaged or not,” Lonnie says. “The thing is, if she was a commoner, the answer would be unquestionably no. However--” 

“There’s been exceptions for royal engagement customs as long as there’s been a record of royalty,” Kyle says. 

“Now,” Lonnie adds, “we’d be further along on this topic, but someone apparently actively avoided learning about nobles’ engagement customs in Brightmoon.” 

“I wasn’t old enough to learn about engagement customs from my mother!” Adora protests. “Besides, we were a-- a rural manor; no one cared how properly their Lady was married.” 

“Our documents say that there’s more commonality in customs between marriage for Ladies and commoners than Ladies and royalty, anyway,” Kyle says.

“Oh, that’s another thing. I’m not royal,” Adora says, “except that I’m the Lord of Horde-- also, we don’t know if my Ladyship is formally stripped.”

“You’d probably have an international incident if it wasn’t,” Gemma says faintly. “You’re the Lord. Can you just make it so?”

“Well, the thing is, it all hinges on what Brightmoon considers Lord Adora’s status to be.” 

“...Ask them?”

“Oh!” Adora says. “Oh, Gemma! You’re right! Lonnie, let’s get started on those travel plans back to Grayskull. We need to meet Sir Bow as soon as possible!” 

...

Now that the Lords are back, they resume their typical Fright Zone duties in earnest. That means planning, training, meetings, and sitting down with the populace at lunch and dinner. 

"You haven't talked to Catra yet?" Lonnie asks as she's on her way out the door from a meeting about the continued development of the nearby desert territory.

Adora shrugs helplessly. "I'm swamped!" 

Just because that’s true doesn't mean she couldn't have talked to Catra at all today. They've been together, after all, in several meetings; they sat together at lunch. It didn't feel right, though. 

They work through the day. As soon as Adora finally puts down the last of her documents, it's time for her to bathe, then dress, then curl up in her bed for the second time since coming home. Catra's weight dips the mattress next to Adora only seconds later. 

"Good to be back," Adora yawns. 

"Goodnight, my love." 

"Goodnight." 

Besides their normal duties, they also need to arrange their announcement and their return to Grayskull. There's an order to these things, so Adora reluctantly stops considering letters to the Princess in favor of drafting the announcement. 

They've decided that they're going to reveal the fact that Hordak is an alias, that Adora and Catra are their real names, and that Catra has been in the position for seven years and Adora for five. They're also announcing that they plan to eventually choose a successor, but they are nowhere near that point yet. They’re not revealing that Adora was originally a Brightmoonean Lady.

The message will come with assurances that old Hordak chose Catra as a successor. There's also a reminder that they've prospered just as much in these seven years as they have in the past-- more, in fact, because Catra has an almost superhuman head for strategy and Adora has more years of governance under her belt than Catra. 

The last step to the message is framing it not as an admittance, but as a statement made, in full confidence, at exactly the right time. “If it reads like they should have expected this sort of thing,” Catra says, “They’ll believe they should have expected it, and take it in stride.” 

So, sure. The message gets drafted and written. Scorpia, Lonnie, and Gemma help. Random trainees Adora’s made friends with read it over for its effect on the general masses and provide valuable feedback.

“What do you think?” Adora says, offering a final copy to Catra.

“You’ve been so good at this,” Catra smiles at her, and reads it through. “Perfect. Let’s do it.” 

“It’s exhilarating.” 

“It is,” Catra agrees. “It feels like we should be going on tour, though. Doesn’t it?”

“You know we have to get back to Brightmoon.” 

“Yes, I know.” 

“We have generals here who would be more than willing to help spread the word, though, you know,” Adora says. “It could be like a vacation for them. Well, except for the announcement and treaty... and general politicking... come to think of it,” says, pausing to think, “that’s how vacations were like when I was learning the ladyship from my mother--” 

Catra laughs. “We’ll send Avalon, Dane, Yvi and Roger. They’ll take four ships, one in each direction. Avalon can do the north coast of the East Continent, the same lands they marched the campaign on; Dane can go west on the Sun Continent, through the desert towns; Yvi will take the southern jungles; and Roger will have the southeastern border territory.”

“That covers it. I’ll let them know.” Adora kisses Catra on the cheek and strides out the door with purpose, only to stop just outside the door frame and say, consideringly, “...as soon as I remember where they’re stationed at the moment.” 

“Just check with Lonnie.” 

“Right!” 

...

Avalon, Dane, Yvi and Roger are briefed appropriately, and given a crew each and a departure date of the end of the week. Incidentally, that’s when Catra and Adora will depart back to Grayskull as well. They draft their letter, this time offering the old Manor Grayskull as a place of meeting between themselves (and Gemma) and Princess Glimmer and Sir Bow.

With an eight day round trip across the water, they won't receive a reply until they're at the manor, so the letter suggests a meeting time three days after they'll arrive in Grayskull. It'll give them time to prepare. 

"You have a week to pack," Catra says after wax sealing the letter Gemma wrote. "Better get started." 

"Should I pack nice?" 

"Brightmoon does value finery," Adora says. "Don't wear anything with stains."

"Yes, my Lord." 

Adora curls an arm around Catra's side. "Have you started packing?" 

"No."

"I'll start, then. Could you ask the cooks to bring dinner, dear?" 

"Of course." 

...

They are, for once, alone for dinner. In a private way, not a lonely one. 

"I thought it would be a good chance," Adora says, "to apologize."

"Apologize. What did you do?" 

"Engage you to me?" 

"Um." Catra puts her fork down. "Well, when you put it that way, it sounds so bad." 

"It's what happened." 

"It’s kind of what happened, but, Adora--" 

"I'm apologizing," Adora says firmly. "And, I'll make it up to you. You'll see." 

"You'll make it up to me, huh?" Catra says, smiling. 

"I promise, my love." 

...

At the end of the week, as Catra is directing their luggage on the ship, Adora finds herself in Lonnie's office, going over engagement customs in Brightmoon again. 

"You know," Lonnie says, "you have the most expertise on this. You're from Brightmoon." 

"I know... but what if I'm wrong? And Lonnie, what if we ARE engaged? What do I do then?" 

"Buy a ring and propose?" 

"What?!" 

"Adora, you and Catra-- you've done good together. Honestly, I thought you'd be married by now." 

"I... a ring, yeah," Adora says, and doesn't elaborate. 

"If you want to get married, that is." 

"I do! I do," Adora says, shocking herself a little. "I want to be married to Catra," she continues. Married to Catra. It sounds beautiful. 

"Then propose. Dumbass." 

From outside the room, footsteps draw nearer and someone says, "Adora? It's time to go!" 

"Coming!" Adora yells back. Then she turns to Lonnie. "Thanks for helping me out! If we're still engaged-- I'll just propose! And then we can be really engaged!" 

And she darts out of the room before Lonnie can ask what happens if they're NOT engaged in Brightmoon. 

Chapter Text

5 UNCERTAIN TIMES

There’s a letter waiting for them at Manor Grayskull, accepting their invitation. 

They prepare the dining room for their guests. There’s more sunlight here than they saw inside Castle Stonewoods, but it’s still not as brightly lit as the Fright Zone. A bedroom is prepared for Sir Bow, as he’ll be living in Horde until they depart for the Fright Zone, and Princess Glimmer, because she’ll spend the night before taking Gemma all the way back to Brightmoon City in the southeast. 

“Gemma’s never been to Grayskull before,” Adora says, “so we’re going down to the orchard.” 

“Wait,” Catra says. “I’ll come with.” 

“Really? You don’t usually.” 

“Sure, I’ll come,” Catra repeats, and she pulls on her boots. The orchard is and has always been Adora’s favorite place in Grayskull, and Catra is looking for somewhere to propose. 

The walk down to the orchard is peaceful. Once there, they’re able to pick fruits off the trees to eat. Catra pulls a dagger from its sheath on her hip and cuts slices of pear to give to Adora, who smiles and thanks her for each one. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Gemma says. 

“Thanks. My first personal project.” Adora pats one of the trees on its trunk. “When we’re done here, would you like to go to the shore?”

That day, they visit the traders on the harbor, then they take speeders to the nearby town. Gemma wants to go into a dressmaker’s shop, but Adora and Catra ardently refuse; she laughs at them, bemused, and they wait for her outside while she browses. 

“You should play dress-up with Gemma,” Catra says. “Give her all of your old gowns.” 

“If she’s playing ambassador to Brightmoon, that’s not the worst idea.”

“Exactly.” She begins to wander off.

“Where are you going?”

“You know, around. Meet me at the restaurant on Greendale for dinner when Gemma’s done, okay?” 

“I’ll meet you in two hours,” Adora promises. 

Gemma emerges from the store only just after that conversation, but Adora did say two hours, so they continue down the cobble street. “Most of Brightmoon is just like this,” Adora says. 

“They’re all very polite.” 

“Sorry-- I should have said ‘like this, but WORSE.’ Well, you have to treat people with perfect civility, or that would be a grave offence to both of your honor. Or something.”

Gemma laughs. “Now I see why you left.” 

“It’s nice to have this little pocket of the continent in the Horde, though.”

“The shopkeeper was telling me how she used to serve Lord Hordak. You?”

“Yes. She’s adapted well, I think. They all have.” 

They pass a jewelry shop, and Adora wanders in as casually as she’s able, and begins to pick up and turn over rings in her hand. 

“Looking for Lord Catra?” Gemma asks. 

Adora doesn’t reply out loud, but is sure her startled expression gives enough away.

Gemma just smiles at her and turns to the necklaces and bracelets. 

Adora should be focusing on the legality of their current engagement instead of picking out rings. Regardless, she finds herself captivated by the elegant jewelry here, imagining it standing out beautifully against Catra’s darker skin. 

“Do you know what you’re looking for, dear?” the jeweller asks. Adora would be willing to bet her subjects haven’t memorized her face yet-- one more bonus of the Hordak mask. 

“Something simple but elegant,” Adora says. “Nothing too tall,” she adds, eyeing with distaste the rings with diamonds that sit so high above the skin. 

“For a man or a woman?”

“Woman, but I don’t want it to be girlish.” 

The jeweller pulls out a tray of rings and picks one up. It’s rose gold, a pinky finger’s width band. The metal is arranged in a pattern like lace, and the gems-- tiny, dozens of them-- are set so deep into the metal they’re flush. “This is the right idea,” Adora says, running her thumb over it. “I just don’t think it’s the right ring.” 

“Try this one.” The jeweller picks up another; three bands diverge and converge. On one side of the ring, one of the bands is set with twenty tiny diamonds. A teardrop-shaped emerald nests between two other bands. 

“Better. This is better.” 

“What would you have changed?”

“Silver, I think. Ruby in the center, not emerald.” 

“I have the exact thing you want,” the jeweller says. As promised, it’s silver with a band of diamonds, and a circular ruby sits proudly in the center. “Although-- what size?”

“Size seven.”

“You’re in luck. This is the only one I made, and it’s size seven.” 

An exorbitant amount of money exchanged later, Adora exits the shop with a velvet box in her pocket, and Gemma smiles at everyone they pass on the street. 

...

Adora is about to undress for bed when she remembers that she can’t exactly remove the items from her pocket in front of Catra. She carefully encourages Catra to start drawing a bath without her, then casts frantically about the room. 

The trouble with being so perfectly comfortable with one’s girlfriend, she muses, is that they don’t have a single material item between them that they other won’t touch. They don’t even divide closet space-- because their only tailored outfits are the fancy ones, and Adora wears exclusively dresses and Catra exclusively suits. 

(Except for that one fateful day Catra did borrow a dress, which she is using as an excuse to claim that her wearing dresses is bad luck and she should never wear one again.)

Finally, Adora spots some dusty old art that was too traditional for Adora to enjoy while being unusual enough to have escaped the Boring Purge, and she slips the box underneath the hollow copper sculpture, undresses, grabs a towel and dashes out to join Catra. 

...

When Princess Glimmer and Sir Bow arrive at Manor Grayskull, Adora and Gemma are both wearing traditional Brightmoonean gowns. Adora’s peach and red gown is styled with a golden high collar and a cape, and Gemma's blue dress has an asymmetrical top covering only one shoulder and an empire waist.

“Princess,” Adora says, “It’s an honor to have you here in Manor Grayskull.” 

“Lord Hordak,” the Princess acknowledges. 

“Please, call me Lord Adora,” Adora says. 

“It’s a beautiful manor, Lord Adora.” 

“Princess Glimmer, I’d like to introduce you to Ambassador Gemma.” 

“Pleased to meet you, your Highness.” 

“Ambassador Gemma, this is Ambassador Bow.” 

“Sir Bow works as well,” Sir Bow says with a grin. 

“Please come in,” Catra says, and, formalities successfully completed, they enter the dining room. 

Even though there was only time for one letter and one reply, Brightmoon and Horde have both planned and prepared for an exchange of ambassadors. This time, they do talk business over their meal. 

At some lull in the planning, Princess Glimmer says, “I would appreciate a tour of Grayskull before I go. I hear it has harbor trade now?”

“Of course,” Catra says. “Adora can take you around while I get Sir Bow settled.” 

Adora grins at Catra. “Are you sure you don’t want your chance at a life-changing one-on-one with the dear Princess?”

“Stop,” Gemma says, and pushes Adora’s shoulder. “Lord Adora is very knowledgeable about the village here.” 

Adora smiles at her, too, mostly for being brave enough to confront her in front of Princess Glimmer. “I take pride in its development. Princess, how do you like the fruit?”

“It’s good.” 

“It’s grown in the Grayskull orchard.”

“It’s wonderful,” the Princess corrects, and for the first time, gives something approaching a genuine smile. 

...

Adora leads Princess Glimmer to the path leading down to the orchard, and says, “Now that we’re friendlier, I think you can call me Adora.” 

“...call me Glimmer,” Glimmer says. “Aren't you the same age as me? Twenty five?”

“Yes, I am. So is Catra,” Adora says.

“Grayskull is looking well. Is Lady Lynn around?”

Adora sucks in a breath. “Lady Lynn Grayskull has been dead for nine years.” 

“That’s--” Glimmer brings up her fingers for the briefest moment to count, but Adora catches it. “That’s two years before Grayskull was captured.” 

“Three,” Adora corrects. 

“Who was governing?”

Adora coughs. “Um.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s probably-- it’s probably not a story I want to hear,” Glimmer says. 

Adora lets her believe that. “Look, we’re almost at the orchards!” 

“A lot of Brightmoon’s coast is undeveloped,” Glimmer says as they walk down the harbor. 

“So was Grayskull, until perhaps three years ago. The Sun Continent’s coast has a booming sea trade, and of course, the southern islands are all accessible only by boat.” 

“I was thinking of encouraging the development of ports and harbors. Well, as soon as I get power to do that sort of thing.” 

“Does the Queen listen to your ideas?”

“Well, sometimes. I can’t hold much power at all until I’m married, actually. I have to say, I’m a little disappointed that I couldn’t marry you. You seemed-- nice.” 

“Brightmoon wouldn’t have let me lead, either,” Adora laughs, gesturing at her gown.

“Yeah. How did a woman end up in charge of Horde, by the way?”

“By being passionate, I think,” Adora says, recalling Catra’s stories.

The sun is starting to set, so they turn around and walk back to the manor. Before they enter, Glimmer says, “You’re nice when you’re not dressed in intimidating armor and carrying a big sword.” 

“You’re nice when you’re not throwing me into cells,” Adora returns, meaning it. 

“Princesses don’t make friends with foreign leaders,” Glimmer says, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing your face again in the future.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing yours,” Adora says, and shakes Glimmer’s hand. Then they both gather their gowns at their sides and ascend the steps to the door of Manor Grayskull. 

...

“How did it go?” Catra asks.

“We’re friendly now,” Adora says. “She’s just, you know, a twenty five year old woman being told she has rank and responsibility but no power.” 

“How much do you want to bet that our negotiation was the first time she’d been allowed to have an impact on the fate of her country?”

“A lot,” Adora says. “The Queen ordered her to be there, too. She said that.” 

“You guys have so much in common. Well, you during your Lady days, anyway.” 

Adora nods. “Oh, that was a funny thing. She asked about Lynn--” 

“Who?”

“My mother?” Adora says.

“What?” 

Adora bursts into laughter, and it’s a moment of recovery before she can manage to tell the story of their conversation on the walk to the orchard. 

...

They have breakfast together, all five of them, and decide Catra will accompany Gemma and Glimmer to Brightmoon City before returning. The journey is an eight-day’s round trip-- five there, three back, as Glimmer will be on horseback and Catra will be on speeder. It’s more than enough time to give Sir Bow his crash course on Horde, so Adora will take care of that. 

Catra, Gemma, and Glimmer leave in the afternoon. Adora kisses Catra goodbye in their bedroom before emerging to meet the others, then hugs Gemma and Catra both. She shakes Glimmer’s hand. Sir Bow hugs Glimmer goodbye and shakes Catra’s and Gemma’s hands both as well. 

“Stay safe!” Adora calls after them, and they disappear into the southeast afternoon sun. 

...

Catra returns in the evening eight days later, tugs off her boots, and collapses dramatically into Adora’s arms. 

“Hello, dear. Long journey?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” 

“How was Brightmoon?” 

“Approximately the same as here. Can we go back to the Fright Zone now?”

Adora laughs. “We’ll depart tomorrow, if you want. Bow and I have built up quite the friendly rapport, and he’s a quick study; there’s really no reason to stay here. I like him. He speaks plainly.” 

“Bow? Does he call you Adora?”

“Sure,” Adora says. “Only wish I could get Gemma to do the same.” 

“She’s precious,” Catra says, and shakes her head. “I got the Princess calling me Catra, and I get to call her Glimmer, now. All very friendly.” 

“That’s good.” 

Before Bow can get out the word “Lord--”, Catra is telling him to call her “Catra”. “Besides,” she adds, “you call the other Hordak by her name.” 

Bow nods. Adora had managed a crash course on how to refer to Hordak, Adora, and Catra as well, so he seems to take Catra’s choice of name and pronoun in stride. 

“Let’s have dinner,” Catra says. 

Catra and Bow talk a little on the subject of the inner territories of Brightmoon. Adora smiles and nods and doesn’t say much. 

“I still have more questions, of course,” Bow says. “I learned as much as I could, but we did only have eight days.” 

“You suck up information like a sponge does water.” 

“It comes from having academics as parents,” Bow offers. “I was studying before I was talking.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure; you wouldn’t believe the enriching baby learner games professors have for their own kids.” 

“Why aren’t you an academic?” Catra asks. 

“I wasn’t suited for the lifestyle,” he says with a smile. “It’s a long story. It involves some deception on my part.” 

“Your poor parents.” 

“They learned to appreciate my position in the country. What about you? Were your parents... country leaders?”

Adora and Catra look at each other, and then both agree, “It’s complicated.” 

“I was picked up by Horde at thirteen,” Catra says. 

“And I later,” Adora says. They’ve shared the year she became Hordak-- it’s soon enough after her capture that it screams of Catra’s nepotism. Catra argues that she’s allowed to choose her own successor, of course, and Adora’s proved herself many times over-- but still. 

“Your parents? ...Dead?” 

“Well, I never knew my father,” Adora says. “But I also can’t offer a single complaint about my life, so don’t feel sorry for me.” 

Bow looks at them both, and their easy grins, and says, “Of course not.” 

“Wow,” Catra says, actively taking a bite of her meal. “Getting to our tragic backstories already, and we’re only on day eight.”

“No, how long were we signing the treaty? Four days?”

“Felt like seventeen,” Catra mutters. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Adora says, and rubs her shoulder. “Over and done now.” 

“And now, we can go back to the Fright Zone.” 

“Tomorrow.” 

...

“Hey,” Bow says the next day, as they’re packing things in trunks to take to the ship. “Sorry if this is rude, but I meant to ask-- is Hordak engaged, or Adora?” 

“Great question!” Adora exclaims, so inadvertently loud she draws Catra’s notice. “...really, really great. Actually, I was hoping you could maybe help me out a little.”

“Sure.”

“Well, how does engagement work in Brightmoon nobility? Like, what does someone have to do to be engaged?”

“It really depends on the... why are you asking?”

“Well, I don’t really-- okay, fine, I don’t really know the legality of my status of engagement,” Adora admits. 

Bow grins. “Oh! Sure, okay. Well, each side has to be representing themselves or someone they’re allowed to represent, even in the political marriages.”

“Someone they’re allowed to represent. Right. Well,” Adora says, “I’m allowed to represent Hordak.” Even if Hordak is Catra. “Anything else?”

“There’s always some sort of symbolic trade, right? Usually it’s a ring, especially if you’re traditional, but sometimes, among the nobility, there’s a trade of something else instead. A dowry.” 

“But there’s always a trade?”

“Yes.” 

“We didn’t... we didn’t trade. We must not be engaged,” Adora says, and even she can hear the notes of disappointment in her voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Well, you could always... propose again?”

“Well--” 

“Adora, Bow,” Catra says. “We’re almost ready to depart. Let’s get our bags on.”

“Hi, Catra!” Adora says quickly. 

“Hello, Adora.” Catra drags their bags away quickly; Bow has to pick his up before following. “What was that all about?”

“I’m making it up to you,” Adora says. “I’m figuring out whether we’re engaged or not.”

“So you had a plan and everything, did you?”

“Yeah.” 

“Step one, figure out if we’re engaged?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Step two?”

Adora draws in a breath. This is the part where she thinks she knows what Catra wants, but there’s always that doubt...

“Well, if we’re engaged by Brightmoon’s laws, then I’d have to propose. To you.” 

“...Riiiight,” Catra says, and drops the bags next to the ship, then makes no move to start up the ladder. “Step two--” 

“Step two, propose, if we’re engaged.” 

“What if we aren’t engaged?”

“Hadn’t gotten that far.” 

“Hey, Adora. Are you only proposing because you think that’ll fix any legal mess-ups?”

And because Adora knows Catra, Adora knows she’s gotten the right idea. She smiles. 

“Well, that’s part of it, yeah, but it’s also because I love you very much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and also I think we deserve a beautiful wedding ceremony together. But mostly the legal thing,” she teases. 

“You’re an idiot,” Catra says fondly, breaking into a smile as well. “Also, there’s a hole in your plan. So step two: if we’re not legally engaged by Brightmoon standards, I’m proposing. I get to propose.” 

Adora’s eyes widen. 

“Yes, that is a threat,” Catra says sarcastically. 

“No, that wasn’t it; I just realized that I forgot something!” Adora exclaims, and takes off at a dead sprint. 

(She lifts up the copper statue and withdraws the velvet box.) 

Adora and Catra have their typical room on the ship. Bow is across the hallway, in the room that Lonnie and Scorpia sometimes occupy.

“I’ve never really done much sea travel before,” Bow says. “I guess I don’t really know what to expect.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Catra says. “Just don’t get seasick.” 

Adora appears over the edge of the deck, having hauled herself up the ladder. “Are we ready to depart?”

“Just in time, Adora. Everything’s stowed.” 

“Let’s watch the port from the deck!” 

Bow joins Adora at the rail as the ship groans through its wakeup routine. “What did you forget?”

“Ring,” Catra yells from the center of the deck. “Ring, right?” 

“Aw, Catra.” 

“Oh, right. Your engagement.” 

“Yeah. Although it looks like we’re not engaged, so.” 

“Who’s your partner?” Bow asks. “Actually, to be honest, I’d originally assumed you were married to Catra already.”

Adora gapes. “It’s Catra. How’d you know?”

“It is? Aw, you two are so cute together! No, I just meant that in Brightmoon, nobility never rules together unless they’re married. It’s not possible.” 

“Good thing we’re not Brightmoon nobility, then,” Catra yells over. 

Adora freezes. “Uh, Catra--” 

...

They have the next conversation securely in Adora and Catra’s room. 

“This isn’t common knowledge,” Adora explains. “Well, a lot of people know, but-- it’s not common knowledge.” 

“Sure,” Bow says.

“I,” Adora says, “was Lady Adora Grayskull.” 

“Grayskull!” 

“So, if I’m a Lady of Brightmoon, and Catra and I are ruling together--” 

“Then we’re married,” Catra says. 

“Married. Exactly.” 

“Why... can’t you just go by Horde rules of marriage?”

“Because Horde rules come from everyone else’s rules,” Catra explains. “There’s no one unifying law.”

“Well, then... what’s Catra’s background? Surely you could--” 

“I don’t remember engagement rules.” 

“Oh,” Bow says. “Well, then, I guess it depends on if you’re a Lady or not.” 

“Exactly! So, I might be dead,” Adora offers. 

“What?!”

“According to Brightmoon. I might be declared dead at the capture of Manor Grayskull.” 

“You know,” Bow says, “I happen to have an in with the census-takers. Seeing as they’re academics.” 

“Oh! Would you mind writing them a letter?” 

“Not at all.”

Lonnie and Scorpia both get explanations of the situation as told by Adora and Catra, together, voices overlapping, arguing over the details. 

Bow writes one letter: 

Dad, 

An interesting question came up, and the answer requires access to the results of the most recent census...

And another: 

Glimmer, 

I hope you’re not missing me too much already.

I'm settling in well. Adora (as she's asked me to call her) did a wonderful job of teaching me about Horde for eight straight days, but the culture, structure, and even landscape of the country is so unique that there’s months or years more information to learn before I’m even scratching the surface!

Catra and Adora are generous hosts, and I’ve also met Commander Lonnie and Second-in-Command Scorpia, who apparently both work closely with the Lords. 

I have so many details about the Horde to share with you already. You’ll find it interesting that in the Fright Zone... 

And then it’s time to wait. The letters will take weeks to reach their destinations. 

Bow, it turns out, has very nearly no staff training at all. 

“What did you fight with?” Catra asks, incredulous. She and Adora are dragging him to their daily workouts. 

“Sword or bow, usually?”

“Huh,” Adora says. “We don’t put much emphasis on archery compared to Brightmoon, do we?”

“Stop thinking about military tactics and come teach Bow here some staff,” Catra says, and shoves her into the training room. Adora falls and rolls with the shove. 

“Why am I doing this again?”

“Because staff training is an important part of our cultural traditions,” Catra says imperiously. 

“In the whole nation?”

“Mostly this city, but since you’re going to be only here for two whole months before visiting Brightmoon again, we might as well focus on the city.” 

Two months isn’t that long, but then, this is like the trial period for ambassadorship. Bow and Gemma will spend two months in Horde and Brightmoon respectively, be returned to their home cities for another two months, and after that go back to their foreign nations for a year-- if all goes well, that is. 

Luckily, it’s already going better than their near-disastrous negotiations. 

...

Sixteen days pass.

In that time, Bow learns how to do a basic staff practice pattern, what the foundries look like, exactly how oppressive the aboveground is, the names of two hundred and thirty seven trainees that Adora works with on a regular basis (all of which he forgets immediately), how the people of the Fright Zone take their meals, and which cities Adora, Catra, Scorpia, Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio all think the best guava-ice comes from. (He also learns six different places to have guava-ice, and that it’s a popular dessert in Horde.) 

Catra scouts out six different places to propose to Adora, then starts planning the proposal. Adora does her best to interrupt whenever she’s trying to put something together. 

“Don’t you want to be proposed to?” Catra asks as she’s being manhandled away from her desk-- thrown over Adora’s shoulder and taken to dinner. 

“No, I want to propose to you,” Adora argues, and pats the back of Catra’s thigh with her free hand. 

“Put me down! Hey-- hey, Scorpia! Scorpia, help!” 

“Hi, Catra!” Scorpia says cheerfully. “Hi, Adora! We’ll be seeing you at dinner?”

“Of course,” Adora says, swinging around to face Scorpia while she speaks. Catra digs her elbows into Adora’s back to prop herself up. 

“You’re terrible,” she says. “Terrible. Horrible.” 

“Why are you going to accept my proposal, then?”

“Because someone needs to keep you from terrorizing the general popul-- no!! I’m going to propose to you!!” 

In those sixteen days, Bow writes two more letters to Glimmer, keeping her updated on what he’s learning. Adora and Catra jointly write letters to Gemma and Glimmer, and Lonnie adds a single piece of paper to their letter to Gemma. 

Bow has been getting to know some of the other captains; they are, after all, roughly as well-versed in the daily goings-on of the Fright Zone as he’s allowed to be. He makes friends. With everyone. 

“He’s going to win over the whole damn nation,” Catra mutters. 

“He’s not going to win me over, babe, I already have you.” 

“You’re such a sap!” Catra says, and kisses Adora anyway. 

They get a letter from Gemma on the tenth day of being in the Fright Zone. 

Lords Hordak, 

Brightmoon is beautiful. I’m finding that I love the tall, open architecture. There’s so much foliage here; it’s incredible. My room overlooks the gardens, so I’m writing this from out on the balcony. I can smell the flowers even from up here.

It’s just like you said, Lord Adora: everyone is very polite. Conversations take twice as long as they need to because everyone’s busy addressing each other with full titles and offering things that you’re supposed to decline due to politeness. At least Princess Glimmer speaks more plainly with me when we’re alone. Sometimes she’ll point out to me what I’m allowed to say when and how I’m supposed to address everyone. I feel like I’m learning more decorum than Brightmoon history. 

The Princess has many Princess duties to attend to, but I’ve been meeting many members of the court, especially Ministers, who take turns showing me aspects of Brightmoon and Brightmoon city. Today I learned about the aqueducts servicing the cities here. The water is raised in stone channels and flows down from the mountain rivers. 

They don’t use any power from the earth here. It’s all drawn from the water, actually. They set massive wheels into the rivers, and when the wheels turn, they can do work on their own. 

I also found out that Brightmoon’s perception of Horde is very unusual. They seem to think that all the deserts are either completely uninhabited or inhabited only by small villages. I told them about the Crimson City’s existence, and that the Fright Zone themselves are in the desert. They didn’t even think that the halls were really underground! 

One thing that’s been frustrating me is that they don’t expect me to be working out or training at all. I have my staff with me, of course, but when I asked today if there was a place I could practice with it, all I got were blank stares. When I see the Princess again tomorrow, I’ll bring it up with her. 

All my best, 

Ambassador(!) Gemma

Lonnie gets a letter from Gemma, and so does Bow, which comes as a surprise to him. 

Ambassador Bow of Brightmoon,

I hope this letter finds you well. Our positions, newly established as they are, will continue to be moulded by ourselves and by the higher officers of both of our countries. We will be working in tandem. This opportunity is incredible and exciting. 

However, I have realized that you and I will likely spend very little time together, always being in a different country from each other. 

I’d like to get to know you as well as I’m getting to know Princess Glimmer. So, I am writing you this letter in the hope that it invites you to reply. 

All my best, 

Ambassador Gemma of the Fright Zone

Bow picks up a pen and writes a reply immediately. 

On the sixteenth day after their initial letters were sent, letters return: several from Gemma, two from Glimmer, and one from The Royal Academy. 

“That’s my dad’s reply!” Bow says excitedly. 

They distribute the rest of the letters appropriately, and Bow, Adora, Catra, and Lonnie and Scorpia (who both demanded to know) open the last letter together. 

“Dear Bow,” Bow reads aloud, 

“When Grayskull Manor was officially declared part of Horde, all of those citizens were stricken from our census. 

So, I cannot tell if Adora Grayskull is alive--”

“Well, that’s probably because I am alive,” Adora says. “Guess we’ll have to--” 

“Shhh,” Lonnie says. “Let him finish.” 

“--but officially, there is no longer any Lord or Lady Grayskull.” 

“Huh.” 

“Ha!” Catra says. “I win!” 

(“If you wanted to know more about the census in Brightmoon’s northern now-border territories,” Bow continues to read, but no one is shushing anyone to let him finish anymore.) 

“Now, hold on,” Adora says. “I didn’t really agree to this deal. You just sort of imposed it.” 

“Should’ve objected when I proposed it, then,” Catra says.

“I mean, do you even have a ring? I have a ring, which you pointed out--” 

“You nearly forgot it in Grayskull!” 

“Are they always like this?” Bow asks as they continue to squabble, then, “No, that’s a silly question. I’ve been here for a month now. They’re always like this.” 

Lonnie shakes her head. “They’re so seamlessly functional for most issues.” 

“You should have seen them when they were deciding who would be Hordak for the negotiations,” Scorpia says.

“Adora won, I presume?” 

“Fair and square, according to their rules, I guess. Wait, hold on.” Scorpia confronts the Lords. “I have a suggestion! ...Even though you shot it down last time...”

“What is it?” Adora asks. 

“You both propose.” 

Adora and Catra lock eyes, but they don’t say a word. The consensus seems to take a minute of wordless conversation. 

And then Adora says, “Well... Catra did win this bet.” 

Catra grins. 

“One for one,” Adora adds. “I got to be Hordak for the negotiations, and Catra gets to propose first.” 

“First?” Lonnie asks. 

“Yeah, first. I’ll accept and then I’ll propose to her.” 

“You’re so weird.”

Chapter Text

6 ADVENTURES IN... 

Brightmoon

Brightmoon City reaches for the sky with every aspect of its architecture, but then again, Gemma supposes, the celestiality is in the name. 

There’s a knock at her door, letting her know it’ll be time for breakfast very soon. Gemma’s already awake, of course. She’s finished her morning workout, and washed up her face and shoulders at least in the stone basin in her room. 

Brightmoon City sits in an old riverbed. The river isn’t elsewhere, apparently; it’s here. In the aqueducts and the large mossy boat-channels, and, when Gemma turns a wheel to open the little spout, it’s in her rose-quartz basin, letting her wash her face. Personally, Gemma hopes a meeting with whatever Minister is in charge of the water systems is soon; they’re so different from those of the Fright Zone. 

Gemma dresses appropriately: grey dress with a red and grey shawl. She gets a little bit of leeway for being foreign, but not much. She’s also using all of that leeway by keeping her hair trimmed very short, but it's not like she can grow it out instantly, so she sighs and puts on the delicate slippers and the silver necklace. A friendly older woman, a visiting Duchess who hails from Ereland, has offered to take Gemma to get her ears pierced, because she considers it an enormous failing on the part of whoever raised her that her ears are not already pierced. It does sound relatively interesting, and anyway, Adora seemed to be just fine with little holes in her ears, so Gemma is planning on taking Duchess Ereland up on her offer. 

The second knock comes: breakfast is ready. Gemma opens the door to a polite boy dressed all in brown. “Good morning, Ambassador,” he greets. 

“Good morning. Are you here to take me to breakfast?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Princess Glimmer is not at breakfast, but then again, Gemma hadn’t expected her to be. There’s so much fruit at every meal-- probably grown locally, too. Gemma experimentally spreads peach preserves on a piece of toast and tries it. 

It’s very sweet. 

But good, she decides. Good-sweet. 

By the time breakfast is over, it is roughly the time Princess Glimmer said she’d be available, so Gemma stands and goes to find her. 

As always, it’s not just as simple as that. She has to request time to see her, and then she has to wait while the guards alert Princess Glimmer that she has a visitor. 

She’s finally ushered in. 

“Oh, good morning, Gemma,” Princess Glimmer says. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Yes, thanks. I actually had a question to ask you.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Is there someone I can speak to about practicing staff?”

That’s another Brightmoon custom. Never ask the question unless you’re told to ask the question. First, you have to go through a round of asking to ask the question, and asking who to ask the question to.

“Practicing what?”

“Staff. I do fighting training exercises to keep myself fit,” Gemma explains. 

“Do all the women in Horde learn how to fight?” the Princess asks. 

“A lot of them,” Gemma says. “It’s not really about being a woman or not.” 

“Oh. Well, hmm. This one’s going to be complicated, because the training grounds are all-male spaces, because only men really use them.” 

Princess Glimmer walks over to the window and looks out over the lawn. “I could probably get you a time and place, but we might have to go at this from a different angle.” 

“What kind of angle?”

“Well, we’re supposed to be learning from you about cultural differences, right? So, how comfortable are you with people watching your practice?”

“Um, it’s fine, probably. I used to train with tons of other people.”

“We could call it Horde training demonstrations. If you want, you could get other people to train with you, too.” 

“That would be fun,” Gemma agrees. 

“Perfect. I’ll speak to someone who’ll be able to arrange this, and then you’ll be told when you’re able to train. Morning or afternoon?”

“Afternoon, if possible.”

“All right.” Princess Glimmer smiles. “Good luck, Gemma.”

“Thanks, your highness!”

Gemma nods to the guards on her way out the door. 

There's plenty of free time in ambassadorship, with the caveat that Gemma's always accompanied by someone. Sometimes, the person is a guard from the palace. Sometimes, the person is a Duke or Baroness or whoever, come to ask about Horde in that careful, roundabout way. 

The first they usually ask about is the hair. Gemma answers, every time, that it's not uncommon in Horde, and that she prefers it because it's out of the way. Then the asker goes on to inquire about food, or clothes, or desert life. 

"Well, that's why many of the towns have continuous buildings," Gemma explains. "The weather does get harsh, and sometimes it gets harsh so fast or for so long that you need to have tunnels and passageways to move." 

"That's brilliant," Baron Judel says. "But it must cost a fortune," he adds. "Connecting all those buildings." 

He looks around at the city. Buildings here tend to have a healthy walkway between them. 

"The city layout is different," Gemma offers. "More suited to connection. The buildings are closer together."

"It must get claustrophobic." 

"No," Gemma says honestly. "Not at all." 

She has an appointment to keep with Minister Thaddeus, so she says her goodbyes to Baron Judel and escapes back to where she’s meeting the Minister. He’s the Minister of Music and Fine Arts, and Gemma is looking forward to this appointment. 

Minister Thaddeus dresses... like a Minister of Music and Fine Arts should, Gemma supposes. The grey dress she’s wearing is a nice one, but it dulls in comparison to Minister Thaddeus’s striking cream and peach robes, sewn with silver beads. 

Gemma catches herself staring and quickly says, “Nice to meet you, Minister Thaddeus.” 

“It’s a pleasure to have the opportunity to show you Brightmoonean art, Ambassador Gemma,” Minister Thaddeus says. “Follow me.” 

They take a carriage to a museum. Thaddeus never speaks above a low murmur as he explains in detail the history behind various art movements. 

Gemma’s favorite is the one with unrealistically bold and bright colors. By the tenderness in his voice when he speaks, Thaddeus’s appears to be the realism period, which he says puts the soul of the artist on raw display. Gemma nods along. 

At the end of their museum tour, Thaddeus escorts Gemma back to her place in the palace, then says, “I’ve procured for you opera tickets tonight. I hope to see you there.” 

“Of course,” Gemma says. 

There are more people to meet so that they can marvel over a woman Ambassador who hails from the desert lands of the Horde, but eventually, Gemma catches herself some alone time back in her room. She gets served tea on a tray which she sets on the little table out on the balcony, then she pulls out a little notebook. She’s keeping track of what she’s learning meticulously; she’ll probably write another letter at the end of the week. 

I thought that today would be mostly for fun, but it turns out that a lot of the history of Brightmoon is reflected in its art. 

She thinks, tapping the page, then adds, 

Note: suggest Sir Bow gets to see some of the ropework and metalwork stuff that the students have been doing. 

There are, of course, expert versions of the products, but Gemma hopes Sir Bow will appreciate the way they learn the art, not just the way they make it.

Minister Thaddeus was very knowledgeable about the art at the museum here. We didn’t see anything from this century, though. I think the Minister preferred the older pieces, anyway. 

Gemma gets through another few paragraphs before running out of things to say, and decides not to speculate on the opera until she’s actually seen it. Then she sighs, drinks the last of the tea, and steels herself to face the inquiries of every visitor to the palace once more. 

...

The Fright Zone

Community in the Fright Zone works very differently from Brightmoon City. 

For one thing, the city is tiny. It’s the size of a village-- in fact, some of the surrounding desert villages are larger. There’s a school, the foundries, the training spaces, the harbor, and all of the infrastructure that the top officers need, but there’s not much more than that. For another, it is clearly an ex-military-base, and is only just becoming more of a living place than a working one. 

The populace here still trends towards ‘young adult; unmarried’, so on that count, Bow fits right in, but the general lack of small children or elderly retired people is a little unnerving. It does help explain why all the people here are so knowledgeable about nearby villages, probably travelling there often to actually experience the culture of their own country. 

Horde has experienced peacetime for a little under two years, tell Adora and Catra; when the cease-fire was called with Brightmoon, that ended their only military conflict at the time. There’s evidence around the Fright Zone that the military conflicts took precedence over most else here, so now they’re finally starting to fill in the gaps. 

Bow does a lot of wandering. The halls are somewhat confusing, and very easy to get lost in. They’re also very unforgiving to get lost in. In Brightmoon, if your path was blocked, it was usually with a row of hedges you could hop or at the worst case a canal you could find a bridge for. In the Fright Zone, sometimes halls just... ended. 

Bow makes his way out of one such dead end carefully, trying to remember which turns he took to get here. 

People here are blunt and honest. They're quick to confront, but quick as well to believe that others are telling the truth. In Bow's opinion, the most interesting example he's seen of this is the situation with the Lords' proposal. He's been told they're marrying out of love, not obligation-- that in fact, there's no real political or economic benefit to marriage in Horde, and therefore no reason for anyone to marry out of obligation-- and yet, they both know that the other is going to propose, and seem wholly comfortable with the way their relationship has played out. Most Brightmooneans would have only danced around the thing before finally proposing. 

Back in the hallways-- no, this wasn't the right turn at all, Bow thinks. Plan B: find another person to ask. He sets off in some direction.

Of all people, it's Scorpia who finds him. 

"Thanks," Bow says. "I was having trouble." 

"Oh, don't worry at all," she says. "You shoulda seen Adora when she first arrived. Had to keep an eye on her at all times. Of course, she kept trying to wander off on purpose." 

When she first arrived. Right, because Adora was a Brightmoonean Lady originally.

"Why did she leave?" Bow asks. 

Scorpia thinks for a long while, then says, "There's a lot to the story, but she didn't like her position at the Manor at all." 

"But she's a Lord now." 

"Brightmoon was very constricting for her. No disrespect meant!" Scorpia tacks on the last hastily. 

"We had different experiences in Brightmoon," Bow says diplomatically. 

"Probably so, yeah, probably so." 

"She's very Horde-like in her mannerisms now." 

"She enjoys that people speak plainly," Scorpia says. 

“Is that common, here? Knowing that someone is going to propose to you before they do?” 

“Well, sometimes,” Scorpia says. “In the Lords’ case, they do tend to know each other and what they’re thinking all the time. It’s a good quality in two people sharing the same leadership position.” 

Bow hums acknowledgement. 

“What about you, Bow? Got anyone to propose to back home?”

“Me? No, not at all,” Bow says. “Not at all.”

...

Dear Glimmer, Bow writes, 

After having been your bodyguard for so long, it’s weird to be on my own all the time here. 

I got lost today when I wandered off...

...

“Do I at least get to know when?” Adora demands. 

“No,” Catra replies stubbornly. 

“Soon?”

“Soon.” 

Adora sighs. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing work instead of bugging me about my proposal?” 

“No, I finished the walkarounds. Wasn’t signed on as a trainer today. No meetings with anyone.”

“Letter to Kingdom of the Northern Cliffs?”

“Oh, maybe,” Adora says. “We aren’t even planning on sending that for another three months.” 

“Not writing it, darling. Figuring out how to send it.”

“I’ll go talk to Adrien,” Adora says. “Look at me. Delegation.” 

“Congratulations.” 

With nothing to imminently plan, nothing to enact, and a reason to not go gallivanting off on trips, there’s very little left to do aside from the daily duties of leadership, which do not take up all of Adora and Catra’s time. Comfortable in that knowledge, Adora suggests, “What if we throw a party?”

“You mean, have alcohol and play cards with all the officers?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Sure. That sounds fun. Invite Bow, will you?” 

...

Brightmoon 

The opera had been nice. Apparently, the typical thing to do after an opera is to comment on the art and the performance with the other high-class guests you’ve attended with; Gemma gets drawn into Minister Thaddeus’s little circle. 

“You didn’t come with anyone, Ambassador,” he says, surprised. 

“I hadn’t... I don’t have anyone to come with, really.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, and the conversation ends there. Gemma hadn’t even known she was supposed to invite someone. 

The performance had looked fantastic to her, but according to the other attendees, Madame Roschelle’s aria was a little underpowered today-- or something; Gemma needed more context on operas. She’d never watched music from so far away, to be quite honest, and was impressed at the volume that the singers had to achieve. 

She gets back to her rooms, writes in her notebook for some time, and then finally falls asleep. Tomorrow afternoon will be exciting; she’s going to be demonstrating her staff training for Brightmoon.

There were hundreds of people watching the same performance...

In the morning, Gemma goes easier on her exercises, knowing she’ll actually get to exercise again later today. 

There’s other things to do-- Ambassador things, like meetings, and like writing down what she’s learned and observed-- but after lunch, she dresses in her leggings and tight shirt and retrieves her staff. 

After a moment, and remembering Brightmoon’s sensibilities about women and what they should be wearing, Gemma finds a loose tan dress that she’d already stuffed in the back of her closet in anticipation of never wearing and pulls it out. It only goes to her knees, and is made of a canvassy fabric that never flies too far away from her body when she turns. She pulls out a knife to strip the seams from the shoulders, leaving it sleeveless, and then pulls it on over her outfit. There; she’s wearing a dress. 

She makes her way to a dirt training grounds, where Brightmoon City knights practice. There are stadium seats built into the grounds, because the knights must put on a show on occasion. There’s also a crowd in the stadium seats: ministers and nobility alike, most of whom Gemma’s shaken hands with at least once, line the railing. To Gemma’s surprise, Princess Glimmer is among the people here, and gives Gemma a wave. Gemma waves back. 

There are a few knights clearly here out of interest instead of obligation, and Gemma greets them all. 

One of the ministers walks up and holds a brief conversation with Gemma about staff training in Horde, how long she’s been doing it, and who in the Horde does this... art, he calls it delicately. Gemma answers as best as she can, and he claps her on the shoulder and tells her admiringly that he’d love to see her moves. 

Gemma warms up alongside the knights, although they have their own clearly sword-specific warm-ups. The thing is, she’s seen Adora and Catra fight with their swords-- and there’s a reason that swordfighting is a dying art in Horde; the metal staves can hold their own against swords, given dedicated training, and they’re also much easier to make. 

After a final pattern, she’s ready to challenge some of the knights to sparring matches. 

Gemma’s come a long way from losing a wrestling match to an ex-Brightmoon captive in a boat-ride tournament. 

And besides, wrestling was really never her strong suit. She goes up against knights who are much taller than her, who prepare to use their longer reach to their advantage-- and she slides her grip down her staff and turns their fighting style right back against them. 

None of them know how to fight against a staff. She knows how to fight against a sword, even if she loses to Adora every time-- well, everyone loses to Adora, so that’s not really saying much. After a few exhilarating but relatively short matches, Gemma shakes the hand of the last knight she’s gone against, accepts a drink of water, and rests for a moment. 

“That’s an incredible weapon,” one of the knights says, lifting his faceplate. 

“If you know how to use it,” Gemma agrees. “They’re really light.” 

“Yeah, it looked like it. Can I see?” 

Gemma tosses the staff. He spins it around like she does-- or tries to. “This is hard!” 

Gemma laughs and demonstrates the figure eight motion with her outstretched fist, and he copies it. “Oh, I see. That’s neat.” 

“Thanks.” 

Princess Glimmer catches Gemma as she’s finally leaving the training grounds, having watched the whole time. “I wish I could do something like that,” she admits. 

“It’s really not that hard to start learning,” Gemma says. 

“But I’m the Princess,” she says. “I can’t fight. That would be unmannerly.” She makes a face. 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“I try to make things better for myself and other women here, but it’s a work in progress. Here, we can walk back,” she says, and Gemma picks up the pace beside her. “Besides, I have a different battle to fight right now.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Being able to still lead after marrying. I do have to marry, and soon, and at this point I’m starting to think the most I can ask for is a husband who won’t take away all my power.” 

“And you still don’t have anyone in mind.” 

Princess Glimmer looks away. “Not so much.” 

“Who does your husband have to be? Some nobleman?”

“Yes, a nobleman. It would be nice if they were a knight, I think; I have to pick someone strong and capable for my kingdom, and if he has his knighthood that’s a fairly certain sign that he’s both.” 

“You’re picking? I thought you had advisors or... or the Queen was picking. Or something.” It’s what Adora had thought, anyway. 

“I... can suggest options,” Princess Glimmer says. 

“Well,” Gemma says, “maybe I’ll keep my eyes out for any strong knights. Maybe roughly your age... maybe good-looking--” 

Princess Glimmer laughs. “Thanks, Gemma.” 

“No problem.” 

They reach the palace steps, and Princess Glimmer has things to do, apparently; they part ways, and Gemma walks back to her rooms, happy about how the day has gone.

Dear Lords Hordak, 

I showed Brightmoon some of my expertise with a staff, and was able to fight a few knights and beat them all. I don’t think they were the best of the best, and some of them gave me a little trouble, but I’m sure you’ll be proud to know I didn’t let Horde down. 

I have a little more insight into the royalty of Brightmoon, I think. Princess Glimmer revealed today that she had input into her suitors...

...

Horde

Gemma’s letters come in on a regular basis, every three or four days, with all she’s been learning about Brightmoon. The quick pace means some are smaller and some contain mostly disappointed accounts of how she’s not learned anything new or even done anything in the past few days, but it’s nice to hear from her-- and about Princess Glimmer, when she features in the letters. 

It also seems like Gemma is being effective in humanizing Horde to Brightmoon, and advocating for their interests when Brightmoon begins to look into sea trade. She was certainly the right choice for ambassador. 

As was Sir Bow, of course-- quick to pick up any information, and unafraid to confront Horde officers if need be. He’s also becoming part of the little Adora-Catra-Scorpia-Lonnie-Kyle-Rogelio circle, and as he tells it, becoming friends with Gemma as well through their letters. 

“Well, in a week and a half, you’ll see her in person,” Catra points out. They’re going back to Grayskull once more to speak in person and evaluate how their ambassadors have been doing. 

“I can’t wait,” he says, smiling. 

The week goes by. Somehow, Lonnie manages to make not only herself but also Scorpia, Kyle, and Rogelio free for long enough to go to Grayskull. (“Port Grayskull,” she insists, still trying to get the name to stick.) Scorpia had been the one to suggest the trip, and had told Adora that they could all use some time together outside of the Fright Zone-- besides, the orchard was beautiful and she wanted to see it again.

Adora nods. “Get packed, then!” she says before running off to pack her and Catra’s clothes. 

And the ring, which she’s decided not to be without. Just in case.

They board the ship, spend four days on the ship recapping their two months and playing cards, and exit into Grayskull (or Port Grayskull, depending on who’s asking.) 

“I love international diplomacy,” Scorpia says very wholeheartedly. 

Gemma and Princess Glimmer arrive with some advisors and guards from Brightmoon early in the morning, having ridden from Stonewoods. 

“You’re here!” Adora and Catra exclaim, and then, 

“Princess!” Bow says, catching her in a hug, lifting her off the ground. “I missed you!” 

“Missed you too,” she says fondly. Gemma is busy getting buried in an enthusiastic group hug off to her side, but spares a glance at the two of them; some expression flits across her face. 

“Come on in,” Catra says, and they all sit down at the dining table for brunch. 

...

Apparently, after getting past one treaty (and amendment), more people from each nation are allowed to be at the table as they talk over the roles of the ambassadors. 

Everyone’s polite, but friendly. There’s even slight disharmony within the countries, which of course they couldn’t show before-- advisors giving suggestions, the Lords and Princess accepting or rejecting those. They decide to continue Gemma and Bow’s ambassadorships, not that it was much of a debate. 

During the midafternoon, they all just talk and share stories. 

In the evening, the ambassadors trade positions and the people of Brightmoon depart back to Stonewoods. Princess Glimmer looks as sad to see Gemma go as the Horde group was to see Bow go, so the goodbyes take a while, but finally, half the party is gone and Grayskull seems much quieter than it used to. 

They eat in one of the living rooms for dinner, in front of the fireplace, because even though they all hold official positions-- the real reason they’re here is to be friends. 

...

"I'm bored," Catra says. It's the day after their conference, and the day before they leave Grayskull. "Let's go on a walk." 

"Okay," Adora says, twisting her hair up into a bun and reaching over for her shoes. 

"Adora, come on. You're not wearing that, are you?" 

"What's wrong with my outfit?" 

"It's just stained workout clothes! What if we see people!" 

"I don't want to change."

"Tough. Look, I dressed nice and everything." 

Catra is indeed dressed 'nice', which really means 'casually, but cleanly and with good fashion sense'.

"Fine," Adora says, and strips off the stained workout clothes to put on pants and a top matching Catra's level of dress. "Okay, let's go." 

They walk out the door, waving goodbye to Scorpia as they go. 

Catra leads them down the harbor, and Adora chats with all the shopkeepers as they pass. Today, Catra seems to be in a very good mood, and does the same, before eventually tugging Adora along-- "I would like to get some exercise before dark, you know." 

"Sorry," Adora says, not very sorry at all. 

They make it to the end of the row of shops, then onto the dirt path that wanders back towards the homes. There's no one to encounter along this way, and not much to see except, as Adora once noted, chaparral and wildflowers. 

Though the wildflowers are colorful today. 

At the fork between the orchard and the villages, Adora chooses the orchard, as she always does, and they walk down that path until they see the usual trees. They're walking along the line of apples when Catra says, "Do you want a pear? I want a pear." 

"Sure," Adora says. 

So they cut through the rows and rows of trees until they get to the pears, at which point Catra walks through them, looking for something, maybe the perfect pear-- 

Or maybe a blanket in the middle of the orchard, between all the trees, with a little basket on it. 

Adora gasps. 

Catra sits down and invites her to do the same. "Surprised?" 

"Yeah!" 

"Here, there's fruit and bread and honey." Catra lifts the lid of the basket and offers it all to Adora. The fruit was picked earlier in the day from the trees surrounding them now. 

Adora picks up pieces of bread and drizzles them with honey. "Want some, Catra?" 

"Sure." 

So Adora leans over and holds one of the pieces out for Catra to bite. 

"Love you," she says. "Thanks for this. I miss this place when we're in the Fright Zone."

"I know," Catra says. 

Bread and fruit and honey is not a bad lunch at all, Adora thinks, especially eaten under the same trees which produced the fruit-- and across from her girlfriend. 

Catra smiles at her beautifully, ignoring the food for a moment, and Adora smiles back. 

And then Catra begins to speak. 

"I love you," she says, "every part of you, you know that? And I want to spend every day of my life with you. And I want to grow old together and retire somewhere with fruit trees. I want everything with you." 

"Catra..." 

Catra reaches into the basket (which only she had touched) and withdraws a box. She stands. She holds out a hand to help Adora stand. 

And when Adora is standing, she drops to one knee. "Marry me, Adora?" 

"Yes!" Adora says, sinking right back down to the ground to kiss Catra. 

Catra stops kissing her long enough to thread the ring on her finger, and then they resume, and then Adora stops kissing her long enough to admire the ring. 

It's silver, one big diamond in the middle-- the band splits around the diamond and reconvenes in a fluid curve. 

(It'll compliment Catra's well, too.) 

Adora could think more about her upcoming proposal, or she could kiss her fiancée more-- 

She chooses the second option. 

...

"So?" Scorpia demands as they re-enter the house, and Adora turns on Catra. 

"They knew!" 

"Of course they knew, love." 

Adora shows off her ring to Scorpia and Lonnie and Rogelio and Kyle-- it doesn't get old. It'll be a very long time before it gets old. They celebrate that night, punctuated with teasing Adora about when she's going to propose. 

It is, in a word, perfect.

Chapter Text

7 THE JOY OF LEARNING

Catra had planned her proposal for a month in advance, so Adora planned hers for the next occurrence of clement weather over the Fright Zone. 

That wasn’t really why, but it was kind of funny how opposite her proposal ended up being.

Catra had told Adora once about a spot to escape to-- one you could see the stars from. If the weather was bad, it was inaccessible. (Catra also told Adora about the times she’d gone anyway.) All there was was the metal structure, the sand, and the entire cosmos, not a leaf in sight. 

They had to dress appropriately for the outdoors, which meant unflattering regulation dune-colored outfits that covered them from head to toe, including masks that they’d be able to take on and off, weather permitting. Adora didn’t tell any of their friends, because they didn’t know about the spot in the first place. It was theirs, Adora and Catra’s, alone. 

They climbed the structure, Catra already knowing why they were going-- it was a hard journey to disguise. They sat and lifted their masks to look at the stars, quiet except for their ragged breaths from the trip. 

“You’ve said it all before. I’ve said it all before,” Adora said. 

“Doesn’t hurt to hear it again.” 

“I love you,” Adora said. “More than anything.” 

She gave Catra the ring. Neither of them could stand and have both their hands free, so they sat on the edge of the sky and Adora put the ring on Catra’s finger, and then they sat and intertwined their hands and Adora ran her thumb over Catra’s ring. 

Eventually, they went back, and eventually, they told their friends that Adora had finally proposed, but no other details were shared. 

...

“You know you have to actually plan the wedding, right?” Lonnie asks. 

“Well,” Adora hedges, “sure...” 

Scorpia puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It sounds hard.”

“Catra and I don’t even know how we want to get married.” 

“What do you mean, how?” 

“I mean that her, you know, Halfmoon traditions and my Brightmoon traditions are about as polar opposite as you can get.” 

“Did you want a Brightmoon wedding?” 

“They seemed boring,” Adora confesses. 

“Then don’t have a Brightmoon wedding,” Scorpia says. 

Adora leaves Scorpia and Lonnie alone, and runs into Gemma and Catra. Gemma is speaking a mile a minute, and Catra is nodding seriously. “Hey, Adora.” 

“Catra.” 

“Gemma was just talking about all the pretty knights in Brightmoon.” 

“Oh, really?” Adora says. 

“They’re not for me!” Gemma exclaims. “They’re for the Princess!” 

“Are you matchmaking?” Adora asks incredulously. 

“She’s been matchmaking for the past month and a half,” Catra says. “Unsuccessfully.” 

“Well, they’re all dumb,” Gemma says. “The knights.” 

“Are you going to make them fight you for Glimmer’s hand?” Adora asks.  

“I should,” Gemma says, exasperated. “Look, you’ve given me a job to do, and I think it’s in our-- in Horde’s best interest to have Princess Glimmer keep as much power as she has in Brightmoon, right? So, I am matchmaking.” 

“And also because she’s your friend.” 

“You’re annoying,” Gemma says. “Anyway, thank you for your time, Lord Catra. I will come to you with any further questions, comments, or developments.” She stalks off. 

“Aw,” Catra says the moment she’s left the room, “that old Brightmoon respect sure didn’t stick long.” 

“As if you weren’t yelling obscenities the moment you were back in the Fright Zone, just because you could.” 

“Got me there, love.”

“She called me annoying,” Adora says. “I’m so proud of her.” 

“Hey, Lonnie,” Catra says, in front of Gemma. “Did you know your protegée called Adora annoying?”

Gemma flushes a bright red. “I’m sorry--” 

“Was Adora being annoying?”

“Very,” Catra agrees. 

“As usual,” Lonnie says. She pats Gemma on the back. “Good of you to stick up for what you believe in.” 

“Lord Adora wasn’t being annoying,” Gemma argues. “She was pointing out another aspect to my idea.”

“No, she was doing that to needle you. You know, in order to be an ambassador, you need to be able to read people’s intentions,” Catra says. 

“...Okay,” Gemma says. 

“Apparently our next step in this whole diplomacy thing is-- well, Gemma, how about you explain it to Lonnie?” 

“Princess Glimmer’s ruling power becomes next-to-nothing the minute she marries,” Gemma says. “I looked into it after she mentioned something. All of her decisions can be overturned by her husband. Historically, Princesses have sat back and let the Prince do all the leadership. Princess Glimmer’s actually very old for being unmarried, and so she gained ruling power that Princesses normally never see.” 

“Right, so, what’s our step?”

“Well, we’d want her to find a knight husband who also thinks women should lead.” 

“Matchmaking,” Lonnie says. “Gemma, the only knight I’m ever going to know is Bow. You should work on this when you’re back in Brightmoon.”

“Okay.” 

“Also, why are you coming to me with this?”

“Because you’re my mentor?”

“Right,” Lonnie says. “Of course.” 

The two months come to an end suddenly, and once again, Catra, Adora, and Gemma are on their way to Grayskull. They’re meeting in Stonewoods this time, although Princess Glimmer writes in her last letter that she prefers Grayskull, because it feels like it has the personal touch of the Lords due to their involvement in the changeover, whereas Stonewoods is just a city. (She doesn’t know how correct she is.) 

They greet each other with handshakes and trade their respective ambassadors, but the Horde group is not going back to the Fright Zone yet. The boat is departing from Grayskull and bearing south until they reach the jungle areas, and for three months they’re going to work back up the coast of the Sun Continent, meeting the various villages and cities. It’s also a chance to see if Catra and Adora’s little PR campaign has taken. Avalon and the other officers are back in the Fright Zone, but missed the chance to meet Bow. 

“Horde isn’t just one city,” Catra explains. “You can’t do your job if all you know is the Fright Zone. Hell, it’s probably the most unusual city in this entire country.” 

“The bone tavern in the Crimson City is pretty unusual,” Adora says, but cedes that that’s just one aspect of the place; the rest is beautiful carved sandstone buildings, hide awnings, and metal and plaster-stone supports. 

So they meet the citizens. The truth is that with no announcement, the citizens are not expecting or recognizing the Lords, so they get no immediate special treatment. Catra and Adora pull rank plenty of times for various reasons, and incite multiple mobs of people looking to see the Lords-- so they stand on something tall and say some pretty words, and more often than not, share a meal or a drink with half the city. 

After one such rousing speech, Catra, Adora, and Bow find themselves seated at a table for three being served classic southern dishes but otherwise left alone. 

“Hey, Catra,” Adora says, poking her. “Do you think we should announce our engagement as well?” 

“What would we do that for? I was just thinking once we’ve finally planned our wedding, we do it so we can invite the entire country.” 

“Big country. And what about the people who are far away?”

“We’ll have to travel, or something.” 

Adora shrugs. 

“You guys are engaged!” Bow says, excited.

“Oh, yeah. We finally proposed,” Catra says, and wiggles her left hand at him, showing off the ring. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s gorgeous. You haven’t planned the wedding yet?”

“Well, we’re getting married,” Adora says, “but we don’t necessarily need a wedding to do that, of course. We’re still figuring it out.” 

“Why wouldn’t you need a wedding?” 

“Not every city or territory in the Horde follows Brightmoon-style wedding traditions,” Catra explains. “Honestly, we’d be better off asking them.” 

“Oh, that would be really fun!” 

“Do you-- do you want to start now?”

Adora stands up and wanders around, carrying her plate of food with her. She finds one of the bigger tables and sits herself down, at which the other restaurant patrons fall dead silent. 

“So...” Adora says. “How are you guys?” 

(Catra, watching this, puts her face in her hands.) 

“Hi, Lord Hordak,” says one brave citizen. 

“Call me Lord Adora, please. What’s your name?”

“Andrei.”

“Hi, Andrei. You live here, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Do you work? Go to school?” 

“I, uh, I’m a teacher, actually.” 

“Oh, cool! What do you teach?”

“Are you going to go over and join her?” Bow asks. 

“No, I don’t want to overwhelm the citizens. Besides, Adora’s the friendlier of us.”

“Makes sense. It’s just-- aren’t you--” Bow drops his voice to a whisper. “Aren’t you worried? You don’t have any guards, or anything.” 

“The ship’s crew is here,” Catra offers, gesturing. 

“They’re here, but they aren’t, you know, guarding.” 

“Well, they’d only be needed if Adora and I can’t fight whoever off on our own,” Catra says, and pats the sword strapped to her hip. It’s such an integral part of the outfit she’s wearing now that Bow barely even registered it before. He looks over at Adora, who, sure enough, is also wearing a sword. 

“Oh, right.”

“I really don’t understand why your monarchs can’t fight,” Catra says. 

“The King-- may he rest in peace-- he could sword fight.” 

“Oh, right, of course.” 

“I know Glimmer probably wishes she was allowed to fight, but she’s got other matters of the kingdom to attend to. In the meantime, I keep her safe.” 

“Or you did, before you became ambassador.” 

“Yeah. She’s got my replacement now-- his name’s Eton of Glendale.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you like him very much.” 

“He’s capable,” Bow says. “He’s just also fairly traditional.” 

“Gemma was mentioning,” Catra says, “that Glimmer wanted to try to marry someone who wasn’t going to speak over her. Someone who was actually going to let her lead.” 

“Those are hard people to find,” Bow says. “Especially among the nobility in Brightmoon! Most men just take over their wives’ leadership positions-- if they had any, I guess.” 

“Do you think she’ll find someone?”

“I... hope so.” 

They’re moving on tonight-- the ship can travel by night, and the part of the crew that isn’t nocturnal can sleep. Besides, it’s faster than going over land. 

Back on the ship, Catra asks, “What did you learn?” 

“Oh! Well, a lot, really. But here, it’s common for the couple to feed each other sweets during the wedding ceremony. And there’s animals involved-- it’s good luck to feed birds and squirrels and such, and to have them running or hopping around at your ceremony.” 

“Small... animals.” 

“So, we don’t have to do that,” Adora says, and pats Catra’s shoulder. 

“Maybe not.” 

“Of course, I also learned all about the schooling traditions there,” Adora says, and goes on to detail how invested this particular region is in their youth, and all the things they’re doing. Catra jots down a few notes to take back to the Fright Zone. 

The third time someone (Bow) yawns in the middle of conversation, though, Catra decides for everyone that it is time for bed, and they retire to their two rooms on the topmost level below deck for the night.

Bow laughs at Adora and Catra for still taking coats with them when they next exit the ship. Winter is, after all, melting away to spring. 

“We live in the Fright Zone,” Adora argues. 

“Yeah, under the desert, not on it.” 

“I’m still adapted to desert life,” Adora sniffs. 

So, Adora and Catra in their light jackets and Bow in barely anything at all, they enter the next city on their tour. This one is sprawling, with paved roads and brick buildings. 

The ship docks, and a weary dock worker asks them their names and business-- or rather, if they’re here for life, work, trade, or pleasure.

“Also I don’t need all yer crew names, jus’ whoever’s in charge,” he says, scuffing his foot against the stone. 

Catra says, “Lords Hordak, and work.” 

“Lords Hor-- Lord Hordak!” the man yelps, and straightens his spine. “We weren’t informed of a visit!” 

“No, you weren’t,” Adora agrees. 

The man scribbles down the information and says, chest puffed out, “Welcome to our humble city of Brinhaven.” 

“Thank you,” Catra says. “Do you know of a good place to stay for the night?” 

They’re staying in Brinhaven for a day, taking the ship for another two-day stint, and then beginning the portion of their journey without the ship. Half the crew is coming along. They’ll weave in and out of the cities, working north. The ship will be travelling as straight back as it can, and will reach home well before they do. 

“Catra, look at that cloth!” Adora exclaims, slowing their quest for an inn to stare at some roadside shop. Catra pretends to be annoyed, as if the next time they see someone selling weapons, she won’t be doing the same. 

Of course, Bow and their crew take this as a cue to slow down and admire every inch of the city as they pass. Well, this was the point, Catra thinks ruefully, walking at half-pace to their destination. 

...

Gemma gets called in to see Princess Glimmer one afternoon, with no mention of what the summons is for. 

She cuts her staff practice (and knight ass-kicking) short and runs up to her room to clean up and put on a dress instead of her now-familiar leggings and tunic combo, then shows up at the Princess’s door a minute before her expected arrival time, nodding at the guard there-- Edon or somebody; he’s always where Princess Glimmer is, but Gemma knows next to nothing about him. 

He knocks for her, and Princess Glimmer says, “Come in.” 

Gemma ducks in. 

“Princess Glimmer,” she says, with some small trepidation. “You wanted to see me?” 

“Yes. I was actually-- I was thinking--” 

Gemma releases her hands from where they’re clutched behind her back and walks closer. 

“Do you know how to fight with a dagger at all?” 

“Some,” Gemma says. “I learned from Lord Catra.” 

“Is Catra good?” 

“Very.”

“I think-- I’d like to know how to defend myself. Just in case.” She smiles at Gemma hopefully. 

“I’ve never taught anyone,” Gemma says, “but, sure.” She smiles as well. “I can help.” 

“Now, it’s not really becoming of--” 

“Hush-hush,” Gemma interrupts, agreeing. “I promise.” 

...

Lord Catra, 

Do you have any tips for teaching dagger moves?

Gemma’s letters can find them, but it takes even longer than previous. Presumably, she’s already started working with Glimmer, since they forewarned her of their plans and resulting letter-response-time. 

Catra sits down and begins to write anyway. Then she passes the paper to Adora, who writes about self-defense moves without any weaponry. 

They’re halfway through their reply when Bow walks in, waving a paper. “Gemma’s going to teach Glimmer how to fight!” 

“I didn’t know if she was going to tell you,” Catra says. 

“It’s so cool! No Brightmoonean would have ever taught her how to fight,” Bow says, then pauses-- frowns. “I might have. Why didn’t she ask me?”

“She can’t carry around a sword,” Adora points out. “Do you know how to fight with a dagger? Or your hands?” 

“Not-- well-- kind of,” Bow says. “Does she think she’s in danger? Is Eton not doing a good job?”

“This was supposed to be good news,” Catra says. 

“Oh. Yeah, okay. Well, I’m proud of her!” 

“Do you want to learn some dagger moves as well? We could teach you.” 

“You’d do that?” 

Bow looks incredibly excited at the prospect. 

“Yeah, sure. It’ll go great. Adora learned from the best.” 

“And what about you?” 

“Well, I taught Adora...” 

The three of them break into laughter, and Bow finally folds the letter back up. 

“Do you want to sit here and write back?” Adora offers, gesturing to the other chair at their little table. 

“Yeah, sure! Thanks!” 

...

Adora and Catra have previously visited maybe a quarter of the cities and villages they’re visiting now; the rest are new experiences. 

Adora gets, as always, consumed by her task: she’s determined not to leave a single region without asking about traditions they follow-- wedding traditions, yes, but she’s found a new fascination in learning about the nuances of culture in the Horde, so it’s also engagement traditions, birthday traditions, coming-of-age traditions, birth or baby announcement traditions-- anything someone celebrates. 

Catra generally sits near enough to Adora to listen to what’s going on, and investigates what she’s interested in: does anyone harbor resentment towards them; does everyone accept the fact that they’re Lord Hordak; what’s the best place to find whatever fried meat dish they had earlier in the city. 

Bow had mentioned before about his parents, studying history and anthropology-- clearly, you can take the boy away from the scholars but you can’t take the scholar out of the boy. Or something. He’s jotting down notes next to Adora, is Catra’s point, which she writes to Princess Glimmer. (“Does he think he needs to do this as ambassador, or was he this fascinated by people in Brightmoon?”) 

They collect a list of a fascinating variety of wedding traditions. There’s all sorts of ways to ward away any evil or ill wishes-- wind chimes, flowers, little rituals. The length of the wedding varies-- some are hour long ceremonies, some are days long, some last a week. There’s different ways to wish the couple prosperity, and ways to guess who will be married next, and different traditional things to wear, outfits, jewellry, and temporary dye for the skin alike. 

As they drift into the desert, the frequency of the villages thins out, and they find themselves stopping in a few halfway points-- inns along the road, connected to no village at all, where they can spend the night. At one such point, Catra decides to flip the script and interrogate Adora and Bow about Brightmoon customs. 

The first thing she learns is that customs differ between northwestern and southeastern Brightmoon. 

“Why would you ever wear green at a wedding?” Adora exclaims, aghast. “That’s bad luck!” 

“For happiness,” Bow explains. “Or is the yellow happiness and the green is wealth--” he taps his chin. “I haven’t thought about weddings too much.” 

Anyway, apparently in Brightmoon, you dress either in red and gold or in white with green and yellow jewelry, and the groom wears a suit. At the ceremony, you have bridesmaids and groomsmen and the groom stands in front of everyone while the bride walks down the aisle either with her mother (says Bow) or with no one (says Adora), and the parents usually sit near the front of everyone (says Bow) or on the actual raised platform the bride, groom, bridesmaids, and groomsmen are on (says Adora). Then, a blessing is performed on the couple (Bow) or they recite the traditional blessings (Adora). 

The Brightmoonean and ex-Brightmoonean do agree, though, that once the bride and groom are blessed and all three-to-ten people who have to make a speech make a speech, the bride and groom are pronounced married and may kiss. 

(And then there’s a reception.)

After sharing the detail about the speeches, Adora immediately compares it to the tradition she’d learned of two towns ago where anything that anyone wanted to say was written on little scrolls of paper tied to a sapling instead. 

Catra thinks she understands Adora’s specific grievance with Brightmoon weddings now.

The gist of Brightmoon weddings well-described, Adora and Bow go on to argue the finer points of regional variance, and Catra leans back against Adora and for the first time, consciously starts to imagine how she actually wants her wedding to go. 

...

Princess Glimmer learns eagerly. 

Gemma knows it’ll be weeks until she gets a reply, so she does the best she can in teaching. She’s pulled into Glimmer’s office every day, usually after her own daily workouts, and she shows Glimmer how to hold a dagger and a few basic things to do with it. 

What Glimmer’s getting out of this-- Gemma’s not stupid; she knows what Glimmer gets out of this. She gets, at most, one more chance. She’ll either be in danger, draw the dagger, and stab the person, or she won’t manage to draw and stab, and either way the situation will be over then. 

So they practice drawing the dagger, of course. 

Gemma could use some practice with that of her own, anyway. Catra’s got all these fancy little knife-spinning tricks which Gemma doesn’t even want to learn, but they don’t need to be doing that, they just need to be drawing the dagger. Moving into position.

Gemma gives Glimmer a bladeless hilt with a slug of metal at the top for weight-- the closest they can get to an actual dagger, while still allowing Glimmer to safely stab her-- and attacks her, wrapping her arms around her to pin her, waiting for the dagger to thunk harmlessly against her side. (Almost harmlessly. Bruises start showing up on first her hips and then her ribs, and she smiles at that and doesn’t say anything to Glimmer, because she’s scared enough of the weapon as it is.) 

“You’re doing good,” Gemma says. 

“So are you,” Glimmer returns, and Gemma beams. 

They’re finally on first-name terms, after all this time spent attacking each other. Gemma finishes one drill and stops to get them both water. “How’s the other aspects of your rule, Glimmer?”

“I had another meeting with Minister Keio. I might actually have to make a decision this time.” 

“That’s what you’re for, I guess,” Gemma says. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

 “Yes. And he’s not going to like it.” 

Gemma nods. Glimmer won’t share with her the details of most of the decisions she makes, but Gemma gets the sense that she takes more risks than her advisors would prefer in the name of better lives for her citizens. 

“How’s your own work, Gemma?” 

“Boring today,” she says. “I had to do a lot of research so I would know what I was talking about at a meeting. Spent all day at the library before coming here.” 

“Sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s fine. I do like being an ambassador, you know.”

They run through a few more drills, and then Glimmer’s time is up, and Gemma takes her weapons and leaves. “See you later!” 

Catra was joking, obviously, about Gemma personally fighting knights for Glimmer’s hand, but at the same time, she finds fighting them one-on-one a good measure of what kind of person they’ll be. 

For example, if they go easy on her at first, they also talk down to her even when she wins. 

The Princess does get suitors, apparently, and Gemma takes time out of her day to run into them, talk to them, and get their measure. Glimmer makes sure to invite them to the daily spectacle that’s Gemma’s workout, and if they’re knights, they often drop into the ring themselves, given enough goading. 

Sometimes she thinks she should reevaluate what she’s looking for, if she’s so far from finding it in these men-- but then again, no, she does want Glimmer to be making the decisions, so maybe she’ll just wait them all out. She doesn’t know what kind of timeline they’re on, though. Glimmer acts like having to choose one to settle down with is imminent, but she’s not really panicking or anything. 

Gemma considers at one point asking Bow if he knows any knights from his... knight-training, or something, that might be good matches, but then again, Bow and Glimmer reportedly spent the vast majority of their time together as soon as Bow was officially appointed bodyguard-- and really, even before then. What Glimmer knows, Bow knows, and vice versa. 

In the meantime, the dagger practice and her daily spars are plenty to keep Gemma occupied in her ambassadorship downtime. 

...

“Do you think we should invite Glimmer to the wedding?” Adora asks. 

Considering how non-sequitur this question is, Catra is slightly surprised. “Well, do you want to?” she asks. 

“Well, I was asking because I wanted to know if you wanted to.” 

Sensing the conversation will only get more confusing from there if she doesn’t make an executive decision, Catra says, “Sure, we should invite Glimmer. And Bow, of course.” 

As appealing as some of the more personal, intimate, or unceremonial traditions are, Adora and Catra have to have a ‘statement wedding’, as Catra refers to it, at some point. After that, though-- or maybe before that; they haven’t decided-- Adora has been researching traditions that involve taking symbolic journeys or creating something over the course of weeks or months. They might use this opportunity to travel the land, celebrating with their citizens. 

There’s one in particular Catra latched onto, maybe because she actually recognizes it as being similar to a tradition from Halfmoon. It involves twelve objects representing twelve months, for luck and prosperity all year; a thirteenth, after being received, was given away to represent the duty to help others. She likes the concept of the ceremony taking place over an entire year, although in Halfmoon, the twelve months were purely symbolic and all thirteen objects were given at the same time. Adora, meanwhile, has picked up interest for traditions that involve sharing in an act of creation, from the intricate ropework seen in the western savannah villages to the found-object art they’re starting to see where they are now-- just starting to enter the desert canyons created by ancient and long-gone rivers. 

It’s nice to do the planning at such a leisurely pace, without anyone there to nag them about making choices so they can get their planning in order. 

“Can I say this’ll be my best wedding ever if it’ll be my only wedding ever?” Adora says. 

“You’re so confident about that,” Catra says. Since it’s late, she decides, she can be a little contemplative and introspective. “What if I die young? Would you remarry?”

Adora doesn’t respond with words but makes an incredulous face at that. 

“...Yeah,” Catra says finally. “Me too.” 

...

In the canyons, they visit the Crimson City. 

It’s one of the most well-populated cities in the entire nation, and its existence is... improbable, to say the least. The Crimson City takes its name from the way the sunlight filters through the dust and over the rocks in the late afternoon, bathing the entire city a blood-red. The inhabitants live in the caverns tucked into the canyon walls for the most part, but there’s also a significant amount of ‘floorspace’-- places where the ancient riverbed is so wide that stadiums, shopping centers, government buildings and more can be constructed on the level ground.

The land around the city is soaked with iron ore-- another, secondary source of the name, and the main source of income for the city. In addition, there’s a thriving culture of desert-life agriculture, and since they’ve dug deep enough to be able to access the water tables, the Crimson City (unlike most other desert cities) produces a fair amount of their own food. 

One of the first things they do in the city is visit the Bone Tavern. The incredible structure is built entirely out of the massive bones of ancient creatures, and leans hard into the aesthetic. It’s decorated with skulls and protected with animal hide, and the bartenders dress in torn wasteland clothes and pretend to be tough guys who don’t give a shit about customers. 

It’s Catra’s favorite tavern. 

Bow looks around the place, though, and finally says, “No, I think the Fright Zone is a more unusual city.” 

“Yeah,” Adora says, mostly disappointed that she’d never come up with a counterexample. 

They order; they drink; they enjoy themselves there. This is the last major city before the Fright Zone. From now, they’ll be travelling as fast as the frequency of waypoints allows, stopping in villages for only one night before moving on. 

...

Gemma finally asks one day when they’re out on a walk around the Brightmoon City Arched Gardens. 

“What would you do if you didn’t have to get married for your country?”

“Never marry,” Glimmer replies without a moment’s hesitation.

“Not even for love?”

“I wouldn’t marry,” Glimmer repeats. “Love and marriage aren’t synonymous in my world.” 

“Are you supposed to love your husband?”

Glimmer takes her time on that one, and finally says, “No, I don’t have to love him.” 

Gemma must look away or something. Glimmer says, “You know that’s okay, right?”

“What?”

“You think it’s sad, right?”

“I guess,” Gemma says. “I always thought that if I married, it would be because I loved someone.” 

“Well, look at it this way, right? So, I need someone who I can trust, who will help me run the country. My husband would be a Prince first and a husband second. So, I’d much rather ever have a friend with good leadership skills than the love of my life who was a... a baker.” 

“Prejudiced against bakers, your highness?” Gemma ribs to lighten the mood. Glimmer laughs. “I think I get it. Are you going to miss love?”

Glimmer contemplates, tilting her head, and finally says, “Don’t I love my friends?”

“I... I suppose so.” 

“Then it’s fine. I’m not missing anything.”

Gemma will never understand exactly the way Glimmer understands, she decides, but her chest does feel a little lighter the next time she’s in the stadium ring. 

...

They’re back. 

It’s been a while, but they’re back in the Fright Zone. 

There is, of course, plenty of work to catch up on, especially now that they’ve decided to plan a wedding. 

A date is chosen a year out, and the planning begins. 

Adora and Catra have decided on an official ceremony to be had, to everyone’s shock, not at Manor Grayskull. Catra holds some sentiment for the place, of course, but Adora says that while she loves what Grayskull has become, she had never wanted to get married there as a child, and she does not want to do so now. 

The wedding will be in one of the southernmost islands the Horde has to offer, a tropical place whose weather reminds Catra of Halfmoon. Having a wedding officiator of some sort is relatively universal, so Scorpia will be officiating. She’s ecstatic. 

You are cordially invited to the wedding of Lord Adora and Lord Catra on the twenty-sixth...

Glimmer and Gemma get their invitations on the same day, a month before Gemma's year is up and four months out from the wedding. 

A month later, Gemma is stepping off an elegant wooden Brightmoon vessel in front of the Fright Zone, and Glimmer is following her off. Bow runs out of the widening opening in the ground to greet them, shielding his eyes against the midday sun. 

"Bow!" Gemma says, with somewhat more shock than the reunion warrants. But she's got a thoughtful look on her face. "I heard you learned some staff from Adora." 

"I did. Heard you learned some sword from the knights." 

"A little. Wanna spar?" 

Adora chatters to Princess Glimmer about the halls, leading her inside for her first ever visit, and Catra helps direct the Brightmoonean Captain to move the ship into the unusual port. Once everyone is settled, a process which takes an hour and lunch, Gemma formally challenges Bow to a match. 

With Adora, Catra, and Glimmer in attendance, they set up in the training room. After arguing for fifteen minutes on the rules they should use, Gemma picks up her staff and Bow his sword and they fight. 

Bow loses. 

"Best two out of three?" he says immediately, while the attendees look somewhat unimpressed. 

"Yeah, okay," Gemma says cheerfully, and beats him in the next bout, disarming him and knocking him to the ground. 

"More stabby, less slashy!" Catra suggests. 

"Hey!" Gemma yelps. "Why does he get coaching?" 

"Why do you care? You already won." 

"I'd like to fight the last one, though," Bow says, accepting Glimmer's hand up.

"Go for his left," Adora suggests in lieu of any advice from Catra. "Ready, both of you?"

They fight again, with a little more stabby and a little more emphasis on the left side, although it's hard to tell if either of these things are making a huge impact on the fight. 

But-- 

Bow wins.

(No one’s won against Gemma since she started fighting on Glimmer's behalf.)

He drops his sword from where it hovers at Gemma's throat afterwards, and they shake hands, smiling all the while. "Nice one, Sir Knight," Gemma says, and begins to clean her staff. 

"You too, Ambassador." 

...

"Princess, I'd like to show you around," Gemma says. 

"I walked a little with Adora," Glimmer says. "So if you don't--" 

"I'll have somewhere new for us to go," Gemma says, heading off any excuses about taking too much of her time. She can have somewhere new; the academy, maybe, which Adora never attended. "Walk with me?"

"Sure," Glimmer says, and stands to follow her. 

They chat for a while, but once a few minutes have passed, Gemma breaks out her actual topic of conversation. 

"I was thinking about suitors again."

"Anything new?" 

"Well, what do you think about marrying Sir Bow?" 

"I--!" Glimmer says. 

Gemma waits. 

"I'm-- I never got an... offer."

"You need an offer?" 

"Yes. From his parents." 

"Oh," Gemma says, frowning.  Then, "You didn't mention that." 

Then, frowning harder, contemplatively: "I'll get you your offer. I'm good at writing letters." 

Glimmer grins. "I'd like that."

...

The day before the wedding, Adora and Catra finish the twelfth part of a twelve-part piece they've made together. 

It's a scrapbook of sorts, because Adora wishes dearly to have a record of themselves, and all the better if they made it. 

The day of the wedding, Adora and Catra dress together. Catra has a black and charcoal suit with the jacket styled so that it shows off her white blouse, ruffled with lace. Her hair is restrained in a bun secured with a red pin. 

Adora's dress is unusually made. The skirt is fairly traditional; it has a little bit of volume and is made of Adora's preferred combo of silk and gauze. It's the top that's interesting: stiff, halter-style, and backless except for a pattern of golden-plated chainmail that secures the dress to Adora. 

Catra has a chainmail belt. They're matching. 

Catra helps Adora into her dress and then, even though these boots are far smaller, bends down to put them on Adora's feet. 

"Are you ready?" 

"How does my hair look?" Adora asks. Hers, too, is pinned back, not a single strand falling in front of her eyes. 

"Beautiful. Let's go greet our guests."

There's a ship coming in. Adora throws on a thin red jacket against the slight morning fog, and Catra leaves her suit jacket behind, so they're both not quite in their final finery. They stand on the shoreline, watching as this ship-- a medium-size thing that moves through the water cleaner than any vessel they've seen before-- glides into port and drops anchor. 

A small landing boat breaks away from it, but no one's rowing. The boat docks, and out of it steps Entrapta and Hordak. 

"You came," Catra says. 

"I was excited to," Hordak says. His voice is very familiar, just slightly higher and less gravelly than their masks. "I made a good choice with my successor." 

"Thank you," Catra says, and shakes his hand. Adora does the same. 

"We've never met," she says. "I'm Adora. Welcome back to Horde." 

"Pleased to meet you in person, Lord Adora." 

Adora smiles. "You as well, Doctor Hordak. Doctor Entrapta."

"You've done so many interesting things with the country!" Entrapta says. "I've been keeping up, of course. This new relationship with Brightmoon is fascinating. Is the Princess here now?”

“I’ll take you to meet her,” Adora says, and offers Entrapta her arm.

Entrapta takes Adora's arm and allows herself to be dragged through the narrow paths between the foliage. They stop at one smaller dwelling, and Adora knocks. The door opens and a young woman roughly Adora's age emerges, dressed in a Brightmoonean gown. 

"Princess Glimmer?" Entrapta asks. 

"Oh, no, I'm Gemma," the woman says with a light laugh. 

"Hi, Gemma. This is Doctor Entrapta."

"Oh, wow. I've heard of you." Gemma shakes Entrapta's hand. 

"I was hoping you'd accompany us. I have to organize things soon."

"Of course," Gemma says, and reaches back into the house. She withdraws two daggers and kneels to strap both to her legs. 

"Do you expect trouble?" Entrapta asks. 

"It's a formality," Adora says. "Us respecting you enough to make sure you're safe."

"Well, in that case, thank you," Entrapta says. Regardless of the protection, Gemma turns out to be a decent conversation partner as well, and shockingly knowledgeable about the Brightmoon-Horde relation. (When Entrapta learns that Gemma is the ambassador, it's not that surprising after all.) 

They do finally meet Princess Glimmer and her own bodyguard, Sir Bow. Adora makes small talk for a few moments before excusing herself. "Have fun!" 

Gemma whispers something in Sir Bow's ear, to which he raises his brows. She nods; shrugs. Her voice gets loud enough for Entrapta to hear, but she just says, "When we're back with the Lords Hordak, maybe." 

It's a funny turn of phrase, and one that Entrapta never would have heard. "Lords Hordak?" 

"Oh, yeah. Lord Catra and Lord Adora." 

"I like that." 

When Adora, Catra, and Hordak are back with Entrapta and Princess Glimmer, Gemma takes the opportunity to insist she and Bow can take care of a task Adora had said she was going to do. It's early, anyway, and Adora shouldn't be working on her wedding day. 

"Nice to see you," Gemma says. "I missed you after the sparring match because I was showing Glimmer around, and then before I knew it you were back on the ship."

"Yeah, sorry," Bow says. "I meant to say goodbye." 

"I also wanted to ask you about something. You know how we were talking about Glimmer's suitors?" 

"Sure."

"How come you weren't one of them?" 

"It's a little presumptuous of me to offer, isn't it?" Bow laughs. "I mean, I like her well enough--" 

"You're blushing," Gemma says gleefully. 

"That's-- hey! That's not relevant!" Bow says petulantly, and Gemma socks him on the shoulder very gently. "Well, she doesn't like me like that, anyway." 

Gemma mutters something under her breath, but adds aloud, "That's not why you should marry her." 

"Why not?" 

"Well, because she's marrying for political leadership, not love?"

Bow considers that. "That makes sense. And-- I wouldn’t take away her political power if we were married. Does she actually want my offer?" 

"You should really talk to her, but, yeah."

"I'll... Okay, then, I'll write my parents," Bow says determinedly. 

Catra catches up with Entrapta and Hordak. 

Adora watches carefully. This really is the first time Catra's had a higher authority than Hordak, and Adora gets to see brief glimpses of the side of Catra she's never seen-- the one reacting to authority.

(This Catra isn't much different from usual, though.)

Doctors Hordak and Entrapta have been doing research into engines, which considering the ship and the boat, makes sense. They speak about their research; Catra and Adora speak about the treaty. They share a glance and silently agree to skip the 'detained in a cell' part. 

Eventually, things warrant Catra and Adora's attention again, and Hordak and Entrapta agree to go look around the island for a while. Just before they part ways, Catra promises to see them again, someday, after this event. 

The sun gets low enough to be filtering through the canopies of the trees, and torches are lit all around to make up for the dying light. The guests gather near the shore. The ceremony is taking place right on the beach. It’s an homage to Grayskull and the Fright Zone both. 

Scorpia welcomes all the guests to the ceremony, and then music starts to play and Adora and Catra walk up together, hand in hand. Gemma and Lonnie are acting as bridesmaids and Rogelio and Kyle as bridesmen, so they follow, each with a little bouquet of flowers (Gemma’s idea). 

Scorpia provides the usual ceremony, tells them to exchange rings, then tells them they may now kiss, which they do enthusiastically. Then she has something to say as their friend-- a short, sappy speech about knowing Catra when she was young and watching her and then her and Adora grow up. She passes the metaphorical mic to Lonnie, who only says, “I’m proud. There’s no one better for either of you than each other,” and then nods at Gemma to say her own few words. Then Kyle, speaking for himself and Rogelio. Adora and Catra squeeze each other’s hands and listen to each short, succinct speech.

After Catra and Adora are officially married, they lead the guests back to where there’s food and drink and dancing. Catra throws her jacket over Adora’s shoulders the second Adora shivers, and displays the way her own arms are fully covered by her shirt. (“Besides, I run warmer.”) 

“Feel much different?”

“Sure,” Catra says, turning her hand over to look at the ring. “We’re married now, did you know that?” 

“I did, actually.” 

“C’mon, Adora, let’s dance.”