Chapter Text
The Paladin
I NEVER WANTED THIS!
I never wanted this. I only wanted to save her. Catra.
My name is Adora Greyskull. I never wanted to be the savior of the world, not even a force captain. I couldn’t admit it to Shadow Weaver or anyone else in the Horde; to Catra however, I could tell her anything. I spent my first 16 years in the Fright Zone. I knew my life could be more than just a soldier for a war that no one would tell us about. We just obeyed orders. I tried numerous times to run away, to just take Catra and run. To go as far as the whispering woods would take us. Princesses, rebels be dammed. I didn’t care if they killed me; I couldn’t stand to be in the Horde another second. After my initiation as Force Captain, I ran to find Catra and tell her the good news. Although my smile of promotion masked my fear of real freedom.
It was easier to throw myself into training, to forget than face the ache of wanting something different, something more. Orders meant security; or so I believed. Catra was the only person I had left among the nightmares. I clung to our late-night talks, to the rare moments when the world would seem to fade away and it was just the two of us, plotting escapes we’d never take.
Every time I saw her—fluffed and wild-eyed after training, or alone, laying down watching the blank sky amongst the crudity of the horde, my soul broke a little more. I’d catch her glancing at me, searching for something I couldn't give, not when the Horde’s eyes were everywhere. We were soldiers first. Friends second. Something more, in the silence between patrols, but I couldn’t risk it. Not yet. I needed more time.
The day I got my new rank, the Horde cheered as I walked down the narrow and winding corridors of the fright Zone, but I only wanted to find Catra; be with her and only her. My hands shook as I walked the corridors, dodging the eyes of generals and bots, feeling like a traitor for wanting out. I hoped she’d be in our room, waiting for me. I needed her mischievous grin, her sharp humor slicing through the wall of my fear.
Walking back inside the dorms to my room, Catra had been curled up at the end of my bed like normal. I sighed in relief to find her. Getting closer, I could smell her scent, the sweat on her brow was heavy.
“Catra...” whispering quietly as I sat on the bed next to her.
Soft grumbles leave Catra’s mouth as she shifts to position herself better.
A faint smile crosses my face as I picture my life with her. A single tear rolls softly down my face as I get off the bed and turn to kiss her on the cheek.
She blinked up at me, a lazy, catlike smile tugging the corner of her lips. “You look like someone just handed you a rotten ration bar,” she teased, but I couldn’t even muster a comeback. My voice caught in my throat, heavy with all the things I could never say out loud. I wanted to tell her how the promotion didn’t matter, not compared to us…this fragile little spark we’d been keeping alive in the shadows.
Instead, I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. She wrinkled her nose and swatted my hand away but didn’t move from my side. For a moment, the silence wasn’t heavy or sharp—it simply was. The hum of the Horde’s machinery faded to nothing. Just her warmth, the soft rise and fall of her breath, the echo of our shared secrets.
“I’m scared, Catra,” I confessed, voice so small I almost hoped she wouldn’t hear. But she nudged me with her knee, playful as ever, eyes fierce and soft.
“I know. But you’re always scared, Adora. You just never let it stop you.”
I almost laughed. She always knew exactly what to say, even if she pretended, she didn’t care. I wondered if she felt the same terror, the want, need for more than what the Horde would give us. If she dreamed of running, of living beyond these walls with me, of being something other than what they made us. Or would she want to stay and continue to be a pawn in Hordak’s game.
We sat like that for a long time, side by side, neither of us was willing to break the spell. Eventually, exhaustion pulled her under, and I tucked the blanket around her shoulders, standing watch for the nightmares that came for both of us. Even then, I could feel the weight of tomorrow pressing in, but for tonight, I let myself be still. I let myself believe that loving Catra could be enough to change everything.
The next morning was one of my busiest days as Force Captain. Multiple meetings, over-seeing training the cadets. Catra was my second in command, I oversaw her training the new recruits. After a long day, Catra waited for me outside Hordak’s sanctum. The walk back is quiet, our steps echo on the cold metal, the world outside the Horde distant and unreachable. It’s got to be better than here. Catra glances over at me, her eyes catching the dim light, reflecting them like twin lanterns in the dark. I want to freeze this moment, to lock away the memory of her smirk and the gentle squeeze of her fingers. We held hands all the way back to the dorms. While the horde had a no dating rule, me and Catra didn’t care.
Inside the dorms, shadows stretch along the walls. Cobwebs hung in the crevasses and mice could be seen wandering the halls. Catra flops onto her bed with a dramatic sigh, pulling me down beside her. “You worry too much,” she mutters, pressing her forehead against mine. “Tomorrow’s just another stupid day. And besides, you did amazing today!”
But I can’t shake this ache in my chest. I want to tell her everything, the doubts, the dreams, the longing for something beyond orders and battle drills. Instead, I only nuzzled closer, letting the steady rhythm of her breathing ground me.
As the darkness deepens and the dorm grows quiet, I watch the ceiling fan and listen to Catra’s soft breaths. For tonight, at least, I let myself believe that this…her warmth, her mischief, her stubborn loyalty is enough. Tomorrow will come soon enough, with all its choices and consequences; but for now, I let myself drift, holding on to the one thing that feels real. Her.
“Force Captain Adora.” Boomed Hordak. His voice was loud, rough, and screechy. I nearly jumped at the tone. “I need you to take Theymor. Send a squad with you and destroy any princesses or rebels that get in your way.”
“Y…Yes Lord Hordak.” I say, trying to resist the urge to show fear. Saluting and turning to properly leave; Hordak stops me mid stride. “Adora…fail me and I will personally see to your punishment.” I quickly walk out of his sanctum, running straight into Scorpia.
“Hey! Watch where you are going.” Scorpia shouted. Scorpia is another force captain and a Princess. Her family is the first and only family in Etheria to support and back Hordak and his army. The use of the Black Garnet helps the Horde take over small towns and break into the whispering woods.
Shaking my head I look up at Scorpia’s exoskeleton and her massive pincers. I was in awe.
“Sorry,” getting up to move out of her way and wipe the dirt off my pants. Scorpia doesn’t move; she just eyes me. After a few seconds of awkward exchanged looks, she grabs me and pulls me in for a hug.
For a split second, the world is all Scorpia—warm, crushing, unexpectedly gentle. Her arms lock around me like armor, her laugh rumbles against my ear. “You looked like you needed it,” she says, releasing me with a sheepish grin, one claw awkwardly patting my shoulder. I want to thank her, to say something but the words get tangled with everything else on my mind: the mission, fear, Catra’s smile, the heavy threat of Hordak’s warning.
Scorpia tilts her head, concern flickering in her eyes. “You heading out already? Catra says you never sleep before a mission.” She nudges me with an elbow, her voice dropping low. “You know, she worries about you too.”
That tightness in my chest returns, bittersweet and familiar. The halls are empty except for the two of us, and for a moment, the Horde feels less like a cage and more like a family I never knew I needed.
“I’ll be fine,” I manage, offering a wobbly smile. But she doesn’t look convinced. I can’t tell her about my feelings of being trapped in an endless fear of beatings, humiliation, and war. She wouldn’t understand, her parents, before they died, gave everything to Hordak and his cause, even if they weren’t fully aware of it. Scorpia must have accepted my response because she moved out of my way with an officer solute. As I walked away, I turned towards Scorpia and asked her if she would help me take Theymor.
Scorpia straightened, her eyes lighting up at the invitation. “Really? You want me on your squad?” Her voice surprised in nature. I never really liked Scorpia, but I needed a way out, for good. “I trust you,” I said, and it was the truth—even though I couldn’t afford it. None of us could. Not in The Horde.
She blinked, pincers covering her wide smile, trying, and failing to hide her expressions. “I’ll get my gear. And, hey Force Captain; don’t worry, okay? If anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to go through me.” She flexed one pincer for emphasis, grinning so wide her innocence almost outshined her smile. Almost.
“Im going to get Catra, you get Lonnie and the others. Meet me at the bay.” I said to Scorpia as I turned to leave.
“You betcha Adora!” she exclaimed with excitement. Her words echoing down the corridor, following my tail.
I hurried to my quarters, the corridors echoing in my footsteps. My mind was spinning, plans for Theymor, a hundred strategies and a thousand fears. But under it all, a hope started to form a hope that, together, we might just make it through the night. That, one day, the Horde could be something more than orders and fear for those of us who needed it most, it could be home.
“I can’t believe you want us to take Theymor together!” Catra jumped. She was excited, she never got the chance to go out on missions. Only a handful of us got picked.
Smiling like an idiot, “I was told by Hordak himself to pick a team and capture Thaymor. You are first on my list.”
Catra gave me a look that I’d only ever seen once on her face. Her eyes started to form tears. She shook her head and punched my arm causing me to fall over.
As me and Catra started packing her tail slid down my back down to my butt. Blushing at her touch, I fake yawn and slide my hand through her hair pulling it softly until she moans.
“A... Adora.” panting and purring, Catra grips onto the clothes and sticks her ass out. Her eyes flick up, searching for my face, sharp and mischievous, but with a softer flickering underneath. For a second, the world outside the door to our room, the endless drills and demands of the Horde fades away. There’s only the hush of Catra’s quickened breath and my rapid heartbeat.
She grins, that wild, reckless spark back in her eyes. “You know, you’re not supposed to distract your subordinate before a big mission,” she teases, voice low.
I laugh quietly, letting go of her hair, heart thumping. “Guess I never was very good at following rules.”
Catra turns to face me, blushing hard. Giggles as she bumps her forehead to mine, holding it there just long enough for the possibility. “Then let’s break a few more tonight,” she whispers, grabbing the last of her things.
“Who else is joining us on this mission?” Catra asks as she slowly walks her fingers up my back. Waiting for me to finish packing. Trying to ignore my urge to pin Catra to the bed. I let her continue to explore my back, feeling the muscles under my uniform. It felt nice. Comforting.
For a moment, she stops. Hand wavering, over the small of my back. She doesn’t retreat. She grabs my sides with both hands. A soft moan escapes my lips. My body shudders with excitement.
“So, who’s joining us on this mission Adora?’ she whispers in my ear.
I almost couldn’t stand it. I wanted to rip her clothes off right then and there. I couldn’t.
“Scorpia, Lonnie, and the others.” I grudgingly say through my teeth.
Catra snorts, a playful glimmer in her eyes. “Hope they’re ready for the dream team.” She lets her hands linger at my waist, the air between us thick with unspoken things. I glance at her, grinning, nerves and excitement tangling together deep in my chest. “They’ll keep up,” I say, voice soft, “if we let them.” For a moment, the prospect of the mission—dangerous, feels almost manageable, as long as she’s by my side.
Pulling our bags off the bed, the pillow falls revealing a hidden ration bar. Me and Catra eye each other and lunge for the ration bar; we freeze, hands tangled, as the tasteless food slips to the floor with a soft thunk. Catra bursts out laughing first, the sound bubbling up, bright and unguarded, and I have to laugh too—because in the middle of everything, this is what we have: these scrappy, stolen moments.
She nudges my arm, eyes shining. “Guess you win, musclehead. I’ll let you have it—this time.” But she doesn’t pull away, not completely. Instead, she leans in, voice barely above a whisper. “You know we’re going to be fine out there, right?”
I nod, the weight of the mission pressing in from beyond the barrack walls, but for now, I let myself believe her—let myself breathe in the bold promise of her smile. “Yeah,” I murmur, steadying myself on her presence. “As long as I’ve got you.”
Catra rolls her eyes, but her tail curls possessively around my thigh. “Sap,” she says, but her voice is soft, almost in awe. We stand close, the world narrowing to the thud of our hearts and the shared, wordless vow that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.
Somewhere in the distance, the alarm blares—sharp and insistent. Our time is up. Catra grabs her pack, offering me a lopsided grin as we shoulder the weight of tomorrow. “Let’s go, Captain,” she teases, already halfway out the door. “Wouldn’t want to keep destiny waiting.”
I follow her, nerves buzzing, hope burning inside. Side by side, we step into the unknown—together.
The corridors outside hums with urgency—boots pounding, voices crackling over the comms—but for a split second, the world feels suspended, as if the two of us have slipped through a seam in time. Catra glances back, ears cocked, waiting for me to catch up, and when I do, her hand brushes mine, brief and blazing.
The air tastes like smoke and metal. The mission isn’t new—how many times have we snuck through these shadows, hearts racing, secrets burning between us? But every step now feels different. Charged. I watch her move, fierce and fearless, and wonder if she knows how much she means to me, if she feels it in the same way.
We duck around a corner, pressed shoulder to shoulder against cold metal, and she flashes me that defiant grin. “Ready to make some trouble?” she whispers.
I nod. “Always. As long as I’m with you.”
Her eyes linger, bright amber in the gloom, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The alarms, the orders, the future—none of them matter. Only this, only us: the quiet thrum of hope, the promise of another day together, whatever it takes.
With a final, steady look, Catra leads the way, and I follow her into danger, into destiny, into whatever waits beyond the Fright Zone walls. Together, always.
As we made our way to the bay; me, Catra, Scorpia, Lonnie and Kyle get to the skiff and ready it to leave for Theymor. The rebellion comes crashing into the Fright Zone.
“Scorpia! Take Lonnie and Kyle to Theymor, me and Catra got this.” I say as Catra smiles and jumps a boy with a bow n arrow. Scorpia looks concerned but leaves me and Catra to defend the horde against the sparkly girl and her arrow friend.
“Listen Horde scum!” the sparkly girl protests. “we have come to stop you from taking anymore villages.”
The boy with the arrows has drawn his bow, trembling slightly, the arrowhead shimmering in the dim light. Catra shoots me a sideways glance, her muscles coiled and ready, every sense on high alert. I take a slow breath, feeling the weight of the moment—caught between flight and fight, between the past we’re running from and the future we’re desperate to claim. The tension is thick, but I hold her gaze steady. “You’re not stopping anyone today,” Catra retorts, her voice low but unyielding, and for an instant, I believe her—believe that together, we really can change the story.
The tension crackles between all of us—the moment teetering on the edge of something irreversible. Catra squares her shoulders, stepping forward with a smirk that barely hides her own uncertainty, while I try to keep my voice steady and my resolve clear. "We’re not here to hurt anyone," I answer, my eyes darting between the intruders and my friends. The air feels electric, every second a coin flip between chaos and retreat.
“We are only trying to—” before I could finish, I suddenly felt the hard ground.
Th boy with the arrows released his shaky shot and hit me right below the knee on the right side. I couldn’t feel the pain. Catra had clawed the boy almost to death by the time I hit the floor. By the time I realized what happened, Catra picked me up and carried me to the skiff that Scorpia and the others were supposed to have taken off with.
Her hair is sticking out, like she got electrocuted. Her ears laid down. Looking up at her face broke me. She was crying. She would never let me live it down if I said something.
“Ar..Are.” The words wouldn’t come out. Im glad, she didn’t hear me.
Getting on the skiff I found my voice. “I’m okay, I promise.”
She looks at me, tears forming in her eyes.
The skiff hums beneath our hands, lights flickering as Scorpia double-checks the engine with a reassuring clap on the control panel. Lonnie and Kyle hustle aboard, faces taut with worry and that stubborn, reckless spark that comes alive in moments like these. Overhead, the alarms intensify, painting everything in urgent red.
Catra swings herself into the pilot’s seat, tail lashing in anticipation. “Seatbelts, everyone,” she calls, and it’s almost a joke, almost normal—except nothing is normal, not anymore. I slide in beside her, adrenaline and trust threading sharp through my veins.
Scorpia squeezes my shoulder—her grip bone-crushing but her smile gentle. “We’ve got this, just stay awake.” she says, then settles in to watch the hatch while Lonnie mutters directions into a cyber map, while Kyle scans the horizon for signs of pursuit.
Outside, chaos blooms. Horde soldiers surge down, flitting across searchlights. I hear the crackle of blasters and the cloudy smoke of rebellion —so close, so real. My heart stutters, but Catra’s voice slices through the clamor: “Eyes up, hero. Stay with me.”
The world shrinks to the five of us and the skiff’s trembling hull. In the sudden hush, time stretches. Our gazes, meet—fear, grit, hope burning bright. The rebellion’s shouts echo, the promise of freedom a distant roar, wind screams past as the skiff punches through the barricade of night, the battered hull shaking with every evasive turn Catra throws at it. Spotlights from the Fright Zone sweep the wasteland behind us, but the darkness is on our side.
Blaster fire spatters the dunes. I hunch lower, hands gripping the metal rail as we veer hard left—Catra whooping with a wild grin, fearless in the face of the unknown. Scorpia's claws tighten on the controls, steady and strong, anchoring us all. Lonnie's voice is urgent in my ear, rattling off coordinates, and Kyle's eyes are wide as he tracks every movement in the pending doom.
We fly fast, but not fast enough to outrun what we've left behind. I glimpse a final explosion blossom in the distance, a parting salute from the rebellion, or maybe a warning. Either way, there's no turning back.
Catra glances sideways, pupils narrowing; her tail flicks in time with my heartbeat. "Almost there," she mutters, voice just for me.
I believe in her. We all do.
Theymor looms ahead, a shimmer on the horizon—refuge or battlefield, no one can say. But together, in the battered shell of this stolen skiff, we have everything we need.
We stopped to make camp in the whispering woods, me and Catra shared a tent, and we all rotated every hour to watch for rebellion soldiers.
In the sheltering darkness of the tent, Catra and I pressed close to each other, warmth shared against the tremors and anxiety. The world outside is loud, the woods screamed as if to alert the rebellion that we are here. There’s a quiet sanctuary here; built from shared laughter and the trauma we have carried thus far. Catra’s hand finds mine, her fingers tangled together, gently squeezing back, grounding us both.
Her head leans up against my shoulder, her wild hair brushing my cheek, and I draw her in wordlessly; her scent, her sweat is intoxicating. Our hearts beat together, as if synchronizing to the chirping of the birds. The others talk quietly around the firepit, tents laid out in a row across from us, half-lost in hope and worry,
She sighs, a sound stitched with exhaustion and relief, as I pull her closer, tucking her beneath my chin, her arm loops around my waist, anchoring me. My hand drifts instinctively, tracing the familiar curve of her back beneath the thin fabric of her uniform—not possessive, but protective; a promise that, whatever waits beyond the horizon, we’ll face it side by side.
The hush of the outside world deepens every sound outside fades to something distant and harmless. Catra’s breath stirs at my jaw, hesitant and electric. I turned my head just enough to meet her eyes—sleepy, searching, a question hidden in the flicker of candlelight. My answer is there in my gaze, in the way my hand finds her cheek, brushing an errant strand of hair away.
She leans in and our lips meet—soft at first, questioning, as if we are both learning the language of belonging for the first time. Her eyes searching mine, silent and vulnerable, and I answer with a gentle smile before leaning in kissing her more. Her lips are soft, as we embrace the new language we discovered. Catra moves her hand to the small of my back. Shifting closer to her, her warmth, her lips.
Fingers trace the edge of her jaw, memorizing the lines I’ve seen in battle, now rendered tender in the hush of night. Her tail winds around my ankle, playful and grounding, and our kisses deepen, slow and searching, a promise made real through touch.
We are careful as if afraid to break the fragile sanctuary we’ve built together. Laughter bubbles between kisses. The distant murmurs of our friends are a backdrop, but here, in the gentle press of skin and the breathless hush, we find peace.
We break only to breathe, foreheads pressed together, laughter trembling quietly in the space between us. The candle casts gold light across Catra’s cheek, she grins—sharp, irrepressible, colored with a hope I haven’t seen in so long—and brushes her nose against mine, a silent challenge, and an invitation. One I will be accepting that invitation. Just not sure if now is the right time.
Outside, the wind stirs, carrying the hush of ancient trees and the distant murmur of our friends, but here, the world is small and safe. I tuck a blanket higher over our shoulders as Catra nestles in, her tail still curled at my waist, tethering me to the present, to her. In the whispers, I memorize this closeness—her breath, her warmth, the weight of her trust.
A sudden rustle at the tent flap draws our attention, but it’s only Kyle switching out for Lonnie for watch. Quiet words pass, reassurance given and received, and as the fabric settles again, Catra tugs me even closer, as if daring the universe to try and pull us apart.
“Adora...” Catra begins and then remains silent.
Her thumb strokes the inside of my wrist, feather-light, and I feel the promise in that touch, the vow that neither of us will let go, no matter what dawn brings. The fear that once gnawed at my insides faded, replaced by something steady, something fierce.
I close my eyes, letting the rhythm of her breathing anchor me. The world is still uncertain beyond the fright zone, but here, even in the whispering woods, promise flickers bright and unwavering.
Catra purrs softly, “You promise to stay with me, no matter what happens?”
Tomorrow is a new day, and we will.
“I promise.”