Archive of Our Own ^beta

One

As she arrives in Paris, Adora can't help but think how different it is from the war-torn places she was recently stationed at. Here, it feels like the war isn't happening at all. Everyone walks the streets peacefully, no one screaming in terror or worrying that opposing soldiers will ambush them at any second.

She's excited about this new post because it's supposed to be what the last few years haven't been: predictable and boring. Working under Judge Prime to maintain order in Paris seems like an easy endeavor—the rough edges of a metropolitan city are not as awful as the battlefields Adora is accustomed to. 

As Adora makes her way deeper into the city, something catches her eye and stops her in her tracks. A woman dancing. Adora has never seen anyone like her. The brunette has long flowing curls that seem to dance along with her. She shakes her tambourine, moving from one side to the other engaging with the small crowd who similarly stand in awe.

Adora assumes she's Romani. She's heard stories of the more nomadic people, both good and bad—Adora has seen enough in the war to know integrity comes down to the individual, not who they were born to.

The moment their eyes lock, Adora feels like she's on fire. It's not even that her dance is suggestive—it's beautiful and skilled. It's the way she seems to hold all of Adora in her stare. The performer raises an eyebrow, a light smirk on her face as she hits her tambourine and moves in time. Adora leans forward and drops a few coins in her bag, her fingers almost brushing the brunette's. She sends Adora a grateful smile, and to Adora, it feels like a little of the veneer of her performance lapses. It makes Adora's heart skip a beat.

She shakes her head and keeps walking, not wanting to bother a woman who is simply making a living. Adora tugs on Swift Wind's reins, pulling him to walk beside her when she hears commotion behind her. She turns and sees two guards picking on the woman, grabbing her bag.

The crowd scatters as the soldiers harass the young woman. "You people are always stealing. We know there's no way you could have earned this." The soldier spits on the ground and pulls on the bag. She struggles to keep it, shoving them and running. They give chase, relentlessly following after her.

Adora frowns watching the scene play out. The performer seems to handle them well, remaining just out of reach. As she runs past Adora, she sees her opportunity to help.

She taps on Swift Wind so that he sits on command, right on one of the guards. "Bad, Swift Wind!" She yells performatively as her horse stays seated. She makes sure he doesn't move until the woman is well out of sight.

The other soldier is beside himself, red in the face as he looks at his company humiliated and sat on by a horse. "Peasant! Move your horse right now."

"Or what?" She asks calmly. If this is who she's meant to manage, Adora has her work cut out for her. The soldier draws his knife, aiming it threateningly at her. She draws her long sword. "I wouldn't do that." She warns lowly. She's killed men for less disrespect than this, but she doesn't want to make her first day in Paris quite that eventful.

The man pales as he realizes who he just threatened. "Captain! Forgive me!" He kneels before her, shaking as he looks up at her with wide eyes.

She rolls her own. What a coward. Of course, he has no problem bothering a defenseless woman, but now that he is face to face with Adora he shakes in fear. She looks at the two and finally gets Swift Wind to move so the other soldier can breathe. "Can you direct me to the guard's quarters?"

She's here to lead the guard, to do her job after serving in the war. It should be simple enough. Still, she can't help but think about the performer to whom she freely gave her coin.

Two

Arriving right before the biggest festival in Paris seemed like a great idea at the time. But now she's wondering why she wanted to be around at all. Judge Prime seems to hate anything that involves joy—especially the Romani people who are putting on the show. She would say the man is clearly prejudiced but at this point, she's not sure there is anything he doesn't feel at least mild disdain for.

"Look at that disgusting display." Prime's voice is filled with vitriol as he looks at the performer. It was the same woman Adora had seen earlier in the week when she arrived in Paris.

Adora doesn't have the presence of mind to tell Prime that she can hardly look away. She is the most gorgeous woman she's ever seen and the fire with which she carries herself is something Adora has never experienced before. Adora tries to keep her face in check, but her eyes never stray from her form. The dance is more impressive than the previous one Adora saw on the streets, given the amount of athleticism and skill she uses. Adora suspects that this woman could run circles around her guard if she were to ever train with them. Adora watches the woman wink at an audience member in the crowd, crawling on the stage before hopping into the crowd.

Suddenly, the performer is atop the platform where Adora and Judge Prime are sitting, her eyes locked dead on Adora. She swallows thickly, watching as she crawls closer. She smells floral, some mix of lavender and lilies. The performer wraps her scarf around Adora's neck, pulling her until they are nose to nose. For a moment, Adora thinks the woman might kiss her. Adora can hardly breathe let alone think at that moment until she shoves Adora back with a smirk, quickly flouncing back to the main stage. She takes a deep breath through her nose as the performer strikes a pose, her eyes dancing with mirth and still on Adora.

Adora feels cold when the performer turns her attention to another hapless member of the crowd. She grabs someone's spear and pierces the stage, using it as a prop that she dances around and then slides down until she's back on the stage floor. The performer is fire, passionate and beautiful, unapologetic and unpredictable. Adora has never felt more enchanted.

She continues with the show, pulling up everyone who wants to compete as the king of fools, and pulling on their masks. When she gets to the last contestant, she tugs but the mask doesn't come off.

The performer gasps as does the crowd. Adora eyes the woman and picks up from the murmurs that this is the bellringer—Prime's ward. Her face is misshapen, and she's hunched over, but there's a clear strength in her body from a lifetime of ringing the bells.

The jester interrupts the shock of the crowd. "We asked for the ugliest face in Paris! And here it is!" A rumble goes through the crowd and it turns to a cheer.

The performer crowns the bellringer who smiles out at the crowd. Everything seems to be fine until a tomato flies onto the stage out of nowhere, hitting her in the face. She looks confused, staggering back. Adora looks at the crowd and finds other soldiers with the fruit and they start pelting her.

She looks up at Prime for direction—maybe he would step in to defend his ward—but she finds him leaning back, a self-satisfied smile on his face. It makes Adora's stomach churn—she thought justice ministers ought to be impartial but it looks like he's happy to let the person he is meant to protect face abuse at the hands of the crowd. 

Adora waves her soldiers off, yelling for them to stand down, but it does little in the face of Judge Prime's silence. The moment they realize that Prime doesn't care, it's as if Adora doesn't exist. It's infuriating and leaves Adora feeling helpless. She thinks about jumping down and joining the fray, but self-doubt swarms her. She hasn't even been here a full week and she has no idea what kind of history rests between the bellringer and Prime, or anything else about Parisian life. Should she really stick out her own neck now, with no knowledge of the situation?

It's hard to sit there and watch what they do to the poor bellringer. She's crumpled over and crying, the crowd and the guards all jeering. A few of the more cruel guards tie the woman up, binding her to the stage like an animal for slaughter. Adora grabs the arms of her chair tightly, indecision tearing through her. She doesn't realize that someone has taken action until she hears the crowd die down, a smattering of gasps spreading through them. 

It's the performer, the dancer, the woman Adora can't get out of her head. Of course someone as fierce as her stands for what's right. And now, she's standing between the crowd and the bellringer. Between the bellringer and Prime. No one dares move an inch, waiting to see how the Justice Minister will react.

"Move out of the way." Judge Prime's voice could be confused with genial if you could not hear the vitriol, cloyingly sweet in his voice just under the surface.

The dancer does not even bother to place her sights on Prime. "Of course, your honor. Just as soon as I free this poor girl." She says as she continues to walk closer to the bellringer. She leans over her, putting her hands on the other woman's face, a gentle and soft touch. Adora watches as the bellringer seems to shake from the touch, her tears subsiding. 

"I forbid it." Prime's voice echoes through the plaza. The performer seems unbothered, as she pulls a knife she had pressed against her thigh and cuts the other girl loose. "How dare you!" He yells out, the first sparks of true anger Adora has seen from him.

The performer turns away from the bellringer, addressing the crowd as much as she's addressing Judge Prime. "You mistreat her like you mistreat all of my people! I won't stand for this."

Prime stands out of his chair, leaning on the banister, his pale face red as he glares at the woman. "Silence!"

"Justice!" She yells back, eyes angry. The guards all get closer to the stage, the intent clear. She eyes them, backing up next to the bellringer. "One of me and ten of you. What's a girl to do?" She pulls out a handkerchief from her dress and tosses it to the ground. In a puff of smoke, she's gone.

She appears in another corner of the plaza. "I'm over here." She yells gleefully before shoving a crate into the face of the nearest soldier. All of them try and fail to catch her. It seems both her beauty and wit are enough match for the bumbling guards of Paris.

Adora watches, just as enraptured as when she was dancing onstage. She makes no move to help the guards who are in hot pursuit of the woman. She manages to knock out multiple soldiers by tossing a metal disk, knocking them off their horses.

"What a woman." Adora breathes under her breath, ducking when another item the performer throws almost hits her.

The crowd cheers for her as she climbs atop one of the vendor's tents. She wraps herself in a blanket and twirls, disappearing out of sight, only the blanket remaining. All the soldiers scatter like mice, running around looking for her. Adora feels a swell of relief, glad the woman managed to make it away. The bellringer, no longer the center of attention, also managed to get away amidst the fray the performer created. 

Prime looks at Adora, anger carved like a stone on his face. "Captain, find the girl! Make her pay." Adora nods at her marching orders, although they make her feel queasy. Adora is used to obeying, but she's also used to knowing what's right and wrong. Here in Paris, she gets the sinking feeling she's not on the right side. There are many things she'd like to do if she had a chance to speak to that woman, and arresting her doesn't even make the list.

Three

Adora counts her lucky stars again when she is the one who manages to see the dancer when she does appear again. She watches the girl manage to enter the church, hiding her goat in a hood. Adora makes sure none of the other guards see her as she goes inside, following closely.

Adora thinks she remains undetected, so she's surprised when the dancer turns around, grabbing Adora's sword out of its sheath and pointing it directly at her. Adora stumbles backward on the ground, looking at the pointed edge of her neck.

"You." The woman curses, her eyes narrowed on Adora. It's then that Adora realizes her eyes are two colors, one a bright blue the other a soft brown.

"Easy there." She calls out, a hint of nerves but mostly excitement running through her veins. She's never been this close to the woman. "I mean no harm." Adora gives her the most winning smile she can muster under the circumstances. Neither the performer nor her goat seems very impressed with her.

She presses the sword harder on Adora's throat and Adora crawls backward until she hits a column behind her. There's nowhere left for her to run and she has a feeling that the dancer isn't shy with a blade.

The woman scoffs and it looks like her goat rolls their eyes. "Sure, soldiers never mean harm."

"At least let me apologize." Adora tries leaning her body weight forward.

She narrows her eyes in confusion, her rigid stance relaxing a little. "For what?"

Adora quickly kicks her own sword and it flies out of the woman's hand. She quickly picks it up from where it clattered into the ground and points it at her. "I'm sorry for that." She says with a grin. As much as she refuses to underestimate the dancer, Adora is skilled at what she does.

The brunette rolls her eyes grabbing a long candlestick and turning it against Adora, seemingly unworried about turning a weapon against the head of the Parisian guards. "Are you always this charming or am I just lucky?" She's breathless as she complains, but it might be from the physical exertion. She swings at Adora and Adora defends herself, trying her best not to get wacked with the long wrought iron.

"You know, candlelight and privacy? Some people might call this romantic." She can't help but flirt with the brunette. Adora sees the corner of her lips twitch into a smile but she doesn't stop her attack. She manages to clip Adora's chin which feels like it rattles her skull in her brain. Then the goat rams its horns in her gut—thankfully her armor takes the brunt of that. She's winded when she drops her stance. "Didn't know you had a kid." She says as she eyes the little menace. They look proud of themselves for headbutting Adora.

"They don't take kindly to soldiers." The woman informs her wryly.

"My name is Adora." She offers, trying to de-escalate. Adora truly has no intention of turning her in and she certainly wasn't looking to be knocked unconscious with a candlestick. The woman shares a look with her goat but says nothing. They seem to be deliberating together. "And you are...?" She'd give anything to know this woman's name.

Immediately, her eyes narrow in distrust and she presses the candlestick closer. "Is this an interrogation?"

Adora sheathes her sword and offers her hand. "It's called an introduction." She smiles, hoping that the performer might take it.

She shakes her head, and eyes Adora's hand. "You're not arresting me." She keeps the candlestick trained on Adora.

Adora points around her. "I can't. Not in Notre Dame." It's one of the basic principles of the law—a fugitive can't be detained when on holy ground. Especially not the most famed and holy building in all of Paris.

For a moment longer, the woman stares at Adora. In search of what, Adora does not pretend to know. She must make some decisions because her body seems to relax. "You're not at all like the other soldiers." She notes favorably as she finally puts down her weapon.

"Thank you." Adora isn't impressed with her Parisian counterparts, so she's glad she stands apart from them. Although guilt rattles in her chest as she thinks of the scene that led to them finding each other here—she should have done something to stop the crowd from hurting the bellringer.

The woman puts her hands on her hips. "So, if you aren't going to arrest me, what do you want from me?" She demands to know. 

Adora bites her lip. She didn't really think this through, except that she wanted to make sure the performer was safe. And, if she's honest, Adora wanted to speak with her, to allow herself to be close. If only for one encounter. "I'd settle for your name."

The woman eyes her up and down with hooded eyes like she is looking into Adora's very soul. "Catra." She finally offers up.

For a second they are quiet and the tension between them feels thick. Adora takes a step closer to her, mindful to leave some distance. Catra seems unafraid, allowing them to be pressed almost chest to chest. Up this close, Adora can revel in just how different her eyes are from one another. It's incredible that one person is gifted with eyes so distinct, yet gorgeous. It suits her. She's sure Prime would find some fault in them, probably call them witchcraft, but Adora has never seen something so beautiful.

Before Adora can do something asinine, like pull Catra in her arms or worse, the doors of the church rattle open, a litany of guards coming through. Adora winces and it must look like guilt. She can hear Prime's voice echoing through the great halls.

Catra springs away from Adora as if she's been burned. "You've trapped me here." Catra hisses, eyes flashing dangerously.

"I'm saving you." She corrects, shoving the woman behind her.

She is angry and distrustful again, shoving Adora's back. "You're just like the others. I was wrong about you" 

She turns around to face Catra again. "Ask for sanctuary," Adora whispers urgently, feeling the eyes of her fellow soldiers on her back. Catra is stone-cold as she stares at Adora, not saying a word. Adora lets out an angry sigh. She doesn't understand why Catra has to be so impertinent when all Adora has tried to do is help her.

"Captain! Arrest that woman at once!" Prime orders, his boots falling heavy on the gray stone pavement.

Before he can get too close she steps between him and Catra. "I can't. She asked for sanctuary." Adora says, even though Catra did no such thing. She'll be damned if she lets Catra get arrested here and now. The brief moment of trust between them felt too precious to be denied. Adora wishes to be worthy of Catra's trust.

"I don't care if the little—" He cuts himself off when he sees the priest appear from the bowels of the church.

"Your honor has learned the value of sanctuary, ever since Glimmer was a young child." The man looks down on Prime, the most Adora has seen anyone do. The tall man seems to have no patience for the Justice Minister, or any respect for him either.

Prime's face twists into an ugly snarl, glaring at the priest. He doesn't bother to say anything, instead looking at Catra. "Your kind doesn't do well within stone walls, dear. And I'll be waiting once you're tired of being caged." He turns on his heel and leaves the church, the gaggle of guards following suit.

The priest walks between Adora and Catra, his brown eyes disappointed as he regards her. "Captain. You have no business here. This woman has claimed sanctuary." The priest says forcefully, glaring at her.

Adora nods, holding her hands up in surrender. "Of course. I'll be on my way." She promises. Now that she knows the priest of Notre Dame will protect her, there's really no need for her to be here. Her eyes glance over Catra, and she takes a step toward her. "Catra."

"No, Adora. You've done enough." She says tersely.

"I wanted to help." She whispers. Adora never ratted Catra out, but she knows what it must look like to her. And truthfully, who could blame her? Clearly, she'd never met a guard who was kind to her. Never mind, the head of the whole institution. 

"I don't believe you."

The words hurt but Adora couldn't expect much better. She walks out of the church, prepared to determine what is really happening here in Paris and what her role is in all of it. 

Four

Judge Prime has clearly lost his mind, obsessed with Catra and trying to bring her to justice. At least, whatever mangled version of reality he thinks is just. Adora has quickly fallen out of step with the man, not willing to be a pawn in his ruthless pursuit.

It's not just about Catra either—Paris now looks like the war zones she fought in. He's willing to tear it apart in pursuit of Catra and all like her. He is worse than the soldiers she fought against in the war—she's never met anyone with this much hate in their heart. It was the only thought Adora could think when Judge Prime tried to force her to burn that family alive. She wishes she'd rebelled earlier because in her heart she knows he has been wrong. He wants Catra and all the Romani dead—Adora did everything she could to stop it. The way he treats his ward is nothing short of deplorable and it's telling, how someone treats the person they are meant to raise.

Now, there's nothing for her to do. Adora refused to murder a family in cold blood, and because of it, she's been tossed into the Seinne—the very river she admired as she entered Paris. It's laughable that she thought it a soothing sight now that its current threatens to pull Adora under. Adora tries to swim up but her injured arm—she'd hurt it in her unsuccessful escape attempt—is useless and her strength is beyond depleted. She can't even tell which way is up, the water thrashing her about. She hopes Catra finds a way out of this city, somewhere safe. She hopes Paris finds its way out of Prime's slimy, hateful grip.

Adora is ready to give up, her lungs burning as she takes an involuntary breath in when she feels two strong arms wrap around her. Her head comes up out of the water and someone is hauling her, she thinks it's toward the shore. She tries to breathe but she can't, the water in her lungs burning. Her limbs are heavier than they've ever been and she hears her savior curse as the water level gets lower and Adora's body heavier in turn.

She's unceremoniously dropped onto the shore. A hand beats at her back until her body cooperates, starting to let out the water she swallowed. Adora coughs up so much water she can barely catch her breath. She has no idea how she's still alive, how someone could have found her in time. She manages to open her eyes and Catra is there like a miracle smiling down on her.

"Are you alright, Captain?" She asks quickly, one of her hands on Adora's face and the other sliding down her cold arm.

Her eyes are worriedly scanning her face and Adora can't help but smile. "Catra." She says dreamily. She's dripping wet, Catra's white shirt is practically see-through, and it clings to her in an obscene way. It makes Adora squeeze her eyes shut. "I can—I can see through your shirt." She feels the need to tell her, for Catra to preserve her honor.

Catra laughs and it's a boisterous and relieved sound. "Yeah, you're fine if you can think about that," She murmurs almost to herself. Adora is preparing to inform Catra that there is no circumstance beyond death where she wouldn't have time to notice her but she hisses when she feels a throb in her shoulder. "You need medicine." She says worriedly, her hand running over Adora's face. "I'm taking you to Glimmer so she can keep you safe."

"Why the change of heart?" Adora can't help but ask. She hasn't seen Catra since the day the dancer deemed herself betrayed in the church. Adora has done everything she can to make right since then, but she has no way of knowing that.

"Glimmer told me that you apologized and wanted me to know you truly meant to help me in the church." Her eyes soften as she looks at Adora. "And I saw what you just did. Refusing to burn down that home."

She's relieved that Glimmer got the message to Catra. She was under the impression the bellringer didn't trust her either. Adora rolls her eyes—it hurts too much to be difficult in any other way. "It was nothing." She insists. There is more that Adora could have done if she were braver or stronger. 

Catra shakes her head, that soft smile never leaving her lips; her eyes never leaving Adora's. "You must be the bravest soldier I've ever seen or the craziest." She comments idly.

"Ex-soldier." She doubts Prime will welcome her with open arms. Even if he did, she didn't want to return. She can never go back, not knowing what she knows now.

"You saved that family." She insists. "You didn't have to."

"It was the right thing to do." Adora can feel some of her strength returning. As the haze around her mind starts to lift, she realizes that Catra has to be freezing and, even with darkness cloaking them, they are exposed. "Catra, we have to go. You can't be caught here." The last thing she needs is for Prime or one of the guards to appear and take Catra from her when she's unable to defend her. 

"Do you feel well enough to get up on your feet? I don't think I can lift you on my own." 

Adora nods, relying on Catra to get onto her feet. She feels like a newborn calf, but she can't give up now—Adora has a feeling that Catra won't leave her behind, so she needs to move to get them both to safety. The walk to Notre Dame feels longer than any walk Adora has taken in her life. The only thing that distracts her from the fear of being caught and the pain and weakness in her body is the way that Catra feels pressed close to her. 

She tries to shove aside the feeling—Adora doesn't want to present an unwanted advance on Catra. She doesn't wish to cheapen whatever friendship Catra has offered her at this moment or the change in perception that has transpired. Still, it's hard not to feel that the way her hands fall on Adora's body is not significant. 

The absolute worst part of the whole endeavor is the damned stairs. Who made bell towers so tall? Thankfully by the time they are halfway up, Glimmer hears them and helps Catra pull Adora up. Once again, Adora is taken aback by the younger woman's strength. With her aid, it takes very little time to pull Adora all the way up the bell tower, then Glimmer is putting together a makeshift cot like Adora is a babe in need of nursing. 

"I'm fine." She protests, leaning herself against the wall so she isn't a burden on Catra. "What we need is to figure out where you're going to hide."

Catra eyes her like she might fall over, which is frankly offensive. "I know where I'm going. I just need to be confident you won't drop dead on Glimmer the moment I leave." 

"Adora, just come here." Glimmer sounds tired but there's a smile on her face that Adora's never seen before. The few times she's talked to the bell ringer she's been openly hostile. It seems something has changed since then. 

She uses her own power to cross the room and get into the cot if only to prove that she can. Adora ruins her own efforts to appear unaffected when she jostles her shoulder as she sits down, unable to bite down her groan. 

Catra shakes her head, gently helping Adora out of her clothes and into dry ones before letting her lay down. Her whole body feels like an absolute deadweight and she isn't sure if she'll ever feel like a normal human again. Catra pulls out a small wine skin and Adora sighs in relief.

"I could use a drink." She can't remember the last time she'd had something but it was likely before she arrived at Paris. It feels like it was longer than the five weeks that have passed.

Instead of giving the wine skin to Adora, Catra dumps the contents onto Adora's wound. "Fuck! Yes, that's exactly what I meant by having a drink." She mutters under her breath, trying not to make a face at the sting. The pain is searing, her whole shoulder throbbing at the intrusion.

Catra eyes her for a moment. "You're a big baby." She dismisses. Her brow furrows as she looks at the deep hole in Adora's shoulder. "You're lucky. That arrow almost pierced your heart." She informs sternly as she continues to clean her wound. As if Adora was looking to get shot and almost drowned.

Everything, since she met Catra, has been a lightning strike. Her heart hasn't been hers to mind since that moment. Her chest tightens further as she looks at Catra, gorgeous and compassionate to a fault. Her brow is furrowed as she tends over Adora, although she has no reason to. But Adora has learned, that's simply who Catra is—the injustice she's faced in her life has only made her heart bigger, only made her more able to help the downtrodden, even when by all rights she should be bitter with the world. More than anything, Adora feels lucky to be in her presence.

"I'm not so sure it didn't pierce my heart." She can't help but murmur. 

Catra's eyes soften and the intention of her hands change, holding Adora instead of tending to her. She leans down and cups her jaw, her eyes drawing closer until she presses her forehead to Adora's. "You're so silly." Her voice is so quiet, but Adora can hear it clearly, given their proximity. Catra closes that final distance. placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Adora reaches her arm up and ignores the burn in her shoulder, touching Catra's face and pulling her closer still. Breathing her in. She doesn't care if she dies in this old church, knowing Adora at least has been able to kiss her and show Catra her heart.

"I'll find you," Adora promises the moment they part. If Catra wants her, there's nothing on this Earth that will keep Adora from finding a path for them together. 

Catra smiles before giving Adora another kiss. The feeling is already familiar and addicting. Adora wishes she could stay up all night, sharing their breath in whispers and kisses. "Focus on getting better, Adora. We will meet again." Adora loses Catra's soft hands on her body and her smile and she swears everything feels colder again.

The last thing she hears before she drifts to sleep, her eyes unwillingly tugging close, is Catra making Glimmer swear she'll take care of Adora.

Five

Adora and Glimmer get along much better when they have the united goal of warning Catra of Prime's vile plan to kill everyone found in the court of miracles. Adora's shoulder is still impossibly sore, but she feels mostly recovered from her near drowning at least. She can feel the edges of her wound tug as she is pulled in chains into the court of miracles. She did not expect this to be how she found Catra again. 

"What are you two doing here?" It's the jester, a well-recognized figure amongst Catra's people and one that Adora has seen in passing a few times. "Did you think that you could get away with showing up here?" 

"Listen! Catra explained that if we needed to find her we could come here. We have important news to share if you just—" Glimmer is cut off by the laughs surrounding them. 

The jester, Double Trouble, as their called, looks wholly unsympathetic as they get closer to Adora and Glimmer. "Please, as if we are going to believe Prime's ward and his Captain. I don't know how you got down here, but you're going to regret it." They turn to look at the people around them. "The only way to secure the location is to make sure no one knows how to get inside." 

It dawns on Adora first, exactly how they are going to ensure Adora and Glimmer's silence. She hears Glimmer let out a surprised yell once she realizes that they're being hauled to their deaths. She and Glimmer share a horrified glance as the people whom they are supposed to be helping instead seem intent on killing them. "Please, Catra told us to come here!" Adora tries again in a desperate to get someone to believe her. She knows if word got to Catra they would both be spared, but there didn't seem to be much time before a noose would come around her neck.

 "Sorry darling, you aren't one of us. And we've been persecuted for ages, no less by that rat you call a Judge." The jester narrows their gaze, gesturing for the others to lift Adora into the gallows. "We'll start with you. None of your precious guards could save you now."

For a moment, Adora lets herself take in what the court of miracles looks like—an underground city. She briefly wonders how much fear the Romani people must have felt to be driven to such a safehold. She then closes her eyes tightly, feeling the rope come over her head. After everything she survived, Adora supposes her luck simply ran out. Her eyes spring open when she hears a hoarse shout.

"Stop! Those are not outsiders those are our friends!"

Catra sounds angry and scolding as the crowd parts for her. Besides that movement, everything freezes as the crowd looks between Double Trouble and Catra. Finally, Double Trouble lets out a smooth laugh. "Why didn't you say you were here at Catra's behest? Cut them down." Catra's people quickly bring both her and Glimmer down, but Adora only has eyes for Catra. Adora wishes she could kiss her right now but she knows that would be unwise. 

"Prime is coming. He found out the path to the court of miracles. That's what we've been trying to say from the beginning." There's a flash of an irritated stare on Glimmer's face. It's refreshing to have it not directed at Adora. Whispers spread amongst everyone, worrying that Prime might break into their safe haven. 

"He will be here tomorrow at dusk, in full force. We have to evacuate everyone now." Adora yells out, unsure if she will be listened to but knowing it needs to be said. The chances that they would survive here are low, given the narrow shape of the space and the lack of exits. 

Catra turns to the crowd. "Everyone you heard the captain. If Prime catches us here, we are as good as dead. There's nothing we do best than taking care of each other." That springs everyone into action, the crowd dispersing as they collect their things, resigned to move again for their own protection.

"Sorry about that darlings. And thanks for the warning." The jester's apology is casual as they walk past Glimmer and Adora. 

She doesn't pay them any mind, not when Catra is finally in front of her again. Her smile is blinding and her gaze tender as she looks at Adora and it makes the near brush with death well worth it. "We have a funny way of showing it, but we are grateful." Catra all but burrows her head in Adora's chest and she wraps her arms tightly around the brunette. Adora chances a soft kiss on her head, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

"Hard to be grateful when a majority of us have been awful to your people. They weren't wrong about that." As much as Adora wouldn't like to be killed on the back of a misunderstanding, it's not something she could hold against anyone. Adora pulls back so she can turn to signal toward the bell ringer. "It was all Glimmer. She knew how to figure out the map. If it weren't for her, we wouldn't have made it here." Adora isn't going to take credit when it isn't due and she has a feeling Glimmer has always been taken for granted.

Then bell ringer blushes when she looks up at Catra and sees her kind smile. Catra gives her a tight hug in thanks and Glimmer holds her back just as closely. "Well, I'm grateful for the warning." 

Catra is about to say something more when a loud scream erupts—the doors are thrown down and soldiers flood the court of miracles. It seems like there's more than a guard for every person and quickly they're all rounded up despite how hard they try to fight. Adora takes great satisfaction in punching out a few of the guards, but with her bad shoulder, there's no way for her to keep up. 

Prime looks beyond pleased with himself as he surveys the scene. He stops in front of Glimmer, looking down at where she's kneeling, similar to how she looked at the feast of fools. "Oh, my child. You've been so helpful." He lets out a chuckle. "You lead me right here. I knew that had fallen into these webs of temptation—that you would run off and warn her." Prime looks over a Catra in disgust. 

Glimmer's sobs are heart-wrenching as she processes what Judge Prime is saying. He steps closer to her, looking at her like the scum on his boot. "You know, you want this pity kindness this girl has shown you. I have raised you. I have made it so you can bask in the light." He sighs as if he actually were a disappointed father. "You have never learned. But it is of no matter now." 

"Your honor, please—" Glimmer starts to beg but she's cut off by a guard hitting her side. Adora glares up at him but he pays her no mind.  

"I have my prize now." He pulls Catra by her hair and Adora tries to lounge forward. "She will burn on the pyre for witchcraft at dawn. You're all welcome to see." 

"Let her go! Don't touch a hair on her head!" Adora yells, watching as Catra struggles against his hold, glaring up at him with baleful eyes.

Prime's eyes cut to Adora, widening some. He must not have realized she was there. "I'm surprised you are still alive—that can also be corrected. Thanks to Glimmer's help, of course!" He grins something that looks unnatural on his face. "The light will burn bright when it swallows her whole. I'll make sure you're up close and personal to witness it, Captain."

Without another word, Prime is hauling Catra away. "Catra!" She yells, but it's no use—Catra is being taken in another direction. She barely manages to catch her struggling to glance back at Adora but failing. Adora looks around, watching all the guards move in unison. They're all being taken who knows where. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the bell ringer. "Glimmer, we'll find a way out of this." Adora doesn't know how or why, but this won't be allowed to stand. She's found her faith, and it's not in whatever perversion Prime has created—it's in the strength they'll find in numbers. 

One

The only thing she wants now is to find Catra. Paris is burning as Prime predicted, just not in the way he wanted. She can hardly believe that she managed to lead the people against the guards, that Prime is dead through his own arrogance. Well, the latter isn't surprising but it feels too good to be true. 

The moment that Catra's wild eyes catch hers, she rushes for her pulling her into her arms. 

"You're alive." Catra wonders aloud, which is silly.

She's the one who was set to die at sunrise today, not Adora. Her heart almost stopped when she'd seen Catra tied to that pyre. It was by far the worst moment of Adora's life. There is nothing Adora wouldn't have given to make sure that Catra escaped with her life. It also puts many things into place for Adora—namely these feelings she's harboring for Catra amount to love. A love deeper than any Adora has ever known. She hadn't allowed herself to examine it too closely, but it was staring her in the face when she thought she'd lose her. She's so glad Glimmer saved Catra in time.

Catra's lips brush hers, first softly and then pressing more firmly. Her unruly hair looks bigger than usual, bouncy curls framing her face. "I'm so glad you're alright." Adora breathes as she cups Catra's cheek. 

She rolls her eyes. "Well, alright is relative. But better than this morning, that's for sure." Adora doesn't know how Catra finds the ability to tease after all this, but she finds herself all the more in love because of it. 

Adora turns and sees Glimmer sinking into a corner of the room. She pulls away from Catra and goes to Glimmer, pulling her into a hug. She feels the bell ringer stiffen for a moment before hugging her back. "You saved her. You're a hero, Glimmer. I'll never be able to repay you for what you've done today." 

She looks flustered, looking down at her shoes. "I didn't do anything special." She denies. 

Catra comes around Glimmer's other side, wrapping her arms around the shorter woman. "You don't need to do anything special, Sparkles. You shine anyway." 

Adora's not sure who starts it, but the three of them share a hug, holding on as if to never let go. She looks up after a few moments, noticing the sounds coming from outside of the church. "I think we're wanted outside." 

The three of them walk out to the courtyard. It seems like all of Paris is in the plaza and they all cheer the moment they see them. Adora raises her hand, joined with Catra's, up and the applause gets louder. She peeks over at Catra, noting a light blush on her face. Adora leans close to her dropping a soft kiss on her temple. "I didn't think of you as shy, given what an excellent performer you are."

Catra nudges in, almost hiding her face in Adora's chest. "When I'm performing I'm filling a role. Not being myself."

She feels herself soften at the show of vulnerability. "Your performance is part of you. And every part of you is amazing." 

Adora bites her lip. It wouldn't be wise to declare her love for Catra in front of a crowd like this. She glances back and notices that Glimmer is still in the shadows. She can't see her face but she imagines the bell ringer is fretting about her appearance. Adora squeezes Catra's hand and looks up at her, before glancing back at where Glimmer is hiding. Without having to say a word, they go back and encourage Glimmer forward. When the sun hits her face, the crowd immediately goes silent. 

For a moment, Adora panics. She wonders if they've misjudged in all of the euphoria of victory. If Paris isn't ready to be accepting of someone like Glimmer. But then, a child moved forward, coming up to Glimmer. The child studies her face, a look of open curiosity, not judgment crosses it before she reaches a hand out to Glimmer. It feels like an eternity before Glimmer takes the hand, a gentle, tremulous touch. The little girl grins, looking back at her parents in the crowd. 

Slowly the claps start up again until the crowd is just as loud for Glimmer as it was for Adora and Catra. Adora watches with fondness as Glimmer stares in shock, happiness unfurling on her face. It makes her look beautiful. 

Adora takes the moment of distraction to lean in and whisper to Catra. "Wherever you go, I'll go." She promises seriously. "If you'll have me."

She leans her head on top of Catra's head, happy to not search for a reaction. Although a love declaration might be premature, she can't bear the thought of Catra not knowing that Adora would do anything to make a union between them work. Their whirlwind time together, although short, is meaningful to Adora. She wouldn't trade it for anything. 

Catra leans back so she can look at Adora, a smile on her face and a poignant raised eyebrow. "Oh, believe me. I'll have you, Captain." 

Adora feels the blood rush to her face but she tries her best to stay composed. "Adora." She corrects gently. She wants nothing to do with the guard again. Adora doesn't know what will await her in the future, but she knows she wants it to be by Catra's side.