FANDOM: She-Ra: Princesses of Power.
RELATIONSHIP(S): Platonic Adora + Mara.
a/n; a short drabble to say thank you to she-ra, noelle and all the creators and other crew members for this amazing show. season five, the final season, is airing in just over eight hours, and honestly? i'm not ready for it to end. but that's okay. thank you, she-ra.
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Her breath caught, as she turned around to see her. Mara. Only, she could see her. No hologram or photo or memory. She was there.
"What the-" Adora began, but was quickly cut off.
"I don't have much time. Ha, seems I'm always running out," she laughed bitterly, years of pressure and deception crashing down on her, onto her shoulders, as they slumped forward, "But that doesn't matter anymore. You do."
Mara began pacing, and Adora followed her with her gaze, watched as the girl slowly became more and more anxious, filling with energy. Watched as her dark eyebrows drew together, as she ran her fingers through her uncharacteristically tousled hair. Watched as her chest rose and fell, and she finally came to a standstill.
"I'm sorry." She wasn't quite sure why she said it, but Mara was so clearly distressed: her plan had failed, a thousand years later, and it was Adora's fault. The least she could do was apologise. Just as she was about to spout more false promises that she would fix everything, Mara started towards her sharply.
"Don't apologise. You did good, you did great. Please, don't apologise."
The words died in Adora's throat.
"The sword, the sword, that was an ingenious move."
"But, now we're - I'm - powerless. And, apparently, the Horde is a million times bigger than we thought it was, and they're a galactic empire and I don't even want to touch on whatever the First Ones are up to now, and everything is falling apart-"
"Adora!" The girls met each other's eyes. Grey met blue.
The dam broke. Adora tried, she tried to remember her Horde training, don't show emotion, don't show emotion, but maybe Huntara was right. Maybe she had gone soft in the rebellion. And so tears poured down her face. Raw despair that she had been keeping bottled up, since Thaymor, since Catra gave her that look and backed away into the smoke, since her world changed and she was forced to change with it. The bottle burst open, exploded into pieces, along with her sword and everything else in her life that seemed unsalvageable. Her face became blotchy and snot started to merge with her salty tears. Glimmer. Catra. Horde Prime. She let out a sob.
"Oh, Adora," Mara rush forwards, holding her in her arms, tucking her head next to the other girl's, closing her eyes, "It will be okay."
But maybe Huntara was right. Maybe she had gone soft in the rebellion. Though, as Mara drew back and wiped the tears from Adora's face, assuring her that she could do this, that the sword doesn't make her She-Ra... she had a nearly impossible idea.
Maybe that isn't a bad thing.
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