Chapter Text
Catra braced her feet against Hordak’s throne and launched herself at Adora—at She Ra. She gritted her teeth and slashed with her claws, but She Ra brought her sword up to parry. The thin, sharp, scraping screech that emanated from her claws dragging across the metal made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and if she weren’t in the middle of a battle, she’d have let herself shiver. She Ra pulled back then charged forward, aiming to hit Catra with the flat side instead of the blade. Little-miss-noble was still trying to protect her. But Catra didn’t want her protection.
Dropping low to the ground, Catra sprang under She Ra and rolled down the stairs. Crap, she’d given up the high ground. That was such a rookie mistake. But she didn’t have time to think about it. She had to come up with a new plan.
Before she could think, She Ra’s voice cut through the room, “Catra, enough! I don’t want to fight you!”
Her words made the rage inside Catra rise up, and she hissed back, “When are you going to learn, She Ra? It’s not about what you want!”
Her best chance was to catch her opponent off guard. Luckily, Hordak’s throne room held enough shadowy corners for her to slink through. She held She Ra’s gaze as she stepped back into the darkness. While the princess searched frantically through the blackness, Catra’s eyes saw perfectly. She gripped a sturdy pipe with her hands and began to climb. The stench of copper, steel, and hot grease filled her nostrils, and she could feel the steam rushing through the pipes.
“It’s over, Catra!” She Ra insisted. “By now, Glimmer and Bow have taken Hordak into the Rebellion’s custody. It’s only a matter of time before we dismantle the Horde.” Catra ignored her. It was probably a trick to get her to surrender. And if it wasn’t, then Catra would finally have the control she’d always wanted.
She positioned herself directly above She Ra. The pipes here were much too hot for comfort, but she was willing to suffer a few burns if it meant taking down the Princess of Power. She forced her tail to remain still as She Ra twisted around, trying to spot her. In their entire lives, Adora never remembered to look up whenever they were sparring. And she always lost because of it.
Catra let herself fall, ready to bring her heels down on She Ra’s broad shoulders. But right as she was about to strike, the sword morphed into a shield, and she found herself being repelled back at the throne. Back where she started. She shook her head to get over being thrown and realized that She Ra was now charging at her shield-first. Catra flipped herself back onto the top of the throne and then leapt behind She Ra right as the warrior crashed by. And before her old friend could turn back around to strike again, Catra spun and drove her heel into She Ra’s head. She didn’t really see the impact, but she sure felt it.
She heard a resounding thud and She Ra’s gasp. Pulling her legs back and bringing up her claws to strike again, Catra waited for her enemy’s counterstrike. But it didn’t come. She Ra was on the ground.
Catra smelled the blood coming from She Ra’s temple before she saw it. For a moment she was reminded of all the scraped knees and bloody noses they’d endured together as kids. She shoved the thought from her mind and forced herself to focus. She Ra had struck her head into the corner of Hordak’s throne. She Ra had lost.
Catra had won.
Relief flooded through her, starting in the center of her stomach before spreading through her body like a tide of warm water. Then, she began to giggle. “No way!” she gasped, a grin spreading across her face. “Hey, Adora! Check it out!” She crouched down and shook She Ra’s shoulder, trying to wake her. “I win, Princess!”
The girl didn’t stir.
“Oh, come on,” Catra moaned, rolling her eyes. “Wake up! It’s no fun bragging if you can’t hear it.” She shook harder. Still nothing. The warmth that spread through her earlier gradually began to cool until it was like ice. “Adora,” she said. Adora didn’t respond.
Catra’s heart raced as she brought her ear to Adora’s mouth. Her breathing was slow and uneven, but it was still there. “Adora!” she snapped. “Wake up already!” As she grabbed at the girl’s shoulders, her body flickered with light and then shrank to half her size. Her magic must have worn out or something. But the blood was still there.
“What have you done?” Shadow Weaver’s shriek split the air like a metal spike driving into a bed of ice. Catra twisted her head around to see the witch practically fly up the stairs before she threw the girl out of the way to look at Adora. “What have you done?” she demanded again.
“I-I—we were fighting, and I kicked her.” Why was she trying to justify herself?
Shadow Weaver’s hands gripped Adora’s face, her purple veins pulsing under her thin gray skin. “You could have killed her,” the woman snarled. They were enemies. Catra should have been trying to kill Adora from the beginning. So why didn’t she?
What was Shadow Weaver even doing here? “Where’s Hordak?” she asked, her voice weak and confused.
“It doesn’t matter,” Shadow Weaver snapped. “For now, I am in charge. And I have to fix your mistakes.”
That couldn’t be right. “No, I’m his second in command. I should be in charge.” Shadow Weaver ignored her as she stood, cradling Adora in her arms. “Hey, look at me! I outrank you!”
“You think I care about rank? You’re just a child throwing a tantrum. You are nothing.” She turned to look at Adora. “And you have hurt the thing most precious to me.” She glided down the stairs. She was taking Adora away. She couldn’t take Adora away.
“Stop!” Catra meant to sound stern, but instead she sounded like a beggar.
Shadow Weaver ignored her again. “Force Captain Scorpia is driving away the Rebels. I suggest you aid her while I try to save Adora’s life.”
This couldn’t be happening. “You can’t do this! You can’t just take her!”
“I will not leave her with you! Not after what you tried to do!”
Catra shook her head and said, “I didn’t mean to hurt her! It was an accident!”
“Which only displays your incompetence.”
Hot tears welled up in her eyes, and she fought back the urge to release them. She wanted to go back to fighting. That at least made sense. She wanted Adora to wake up. She wanted her friend to be safe. But as long as she was in Shadow Weaver’s arms, she would never be safe. And it was all Catra’s fault.