Chapter Text
“What is your name?”
Kneeling down before the King, she lowered her head, hands crossed over one knee as she spoke firmly. “Adora Grayskull, your majesty.”
There was a pause, Adora kept her eyes focused on the green and black carpet that had been laid out across the stone floor leading up to the throne. “Adora Grayskull, you have been brought to me by the leader of my Knights Guard at your request for submission - an offering for the crimes of your people. Do you accept your standing in my kingdom?”
Adora swallowed the lump in her throat. It seemed strange to hear herself called an offering. The truth was, she came here as a last ditch effort to save what little remaining bit of her home was left after Horde’s army wiped almost all of them out.
There was only one answer to give that would keep her alive. “I do, your majesty.”
“Let this be a lesson, the reach of my words here today shall spread across the entirety of Etheria. I, Lord Hordak, rule this land and anyone who dares challenge this kingdom will be met with the same, swift fate as this girl’s people were. The end will forever be the same. A knee bent and a life devoted. There is no other means to survive other than submission.”
Closing her eyes, Adora gave one final thought to her home - to her family and the life she once had. It was gone now, a memory meant to torment her but never be broached again. She knew better.
“Adora Grayskull,” another voice spoke. A woman, she spoke slow and steady, but filled with contempt. “You are hereby assigned to the Knights Guard, you will be in service to Lord Hordak and the royal family for the remainder of your days upon Etheria. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Adora opened her eyes, letting go of every flash of memory and happiness she’d once had.
“Then rise, Knight Guard and find your way to the barracks. You will be assigned at dawn.”
Pushing to her feet, he back burned with the pain of the new scar they’d given her.
Adora felt so many eyes on her, dozens of them. The faces she saw were all unfamiliar - nobody in this kingdom knew her. They were the enemy just days before - the dreaded Horde closing in more and more on the place she called home.
The soldiers she saw lining the aisles, they’d killed her family and friends. They’d burned her village and tore her life apart.
Her only means of survival was submission - surrender. Now she was here. A Knight of the Horde.
A traitor in her own heart, but she’d buried that with her memories.
The castle throne room was immense, far bigger than she’d ever imagined. There were columns and statues of Lord Hordak - aisles that stacked up high like a coliseum and people all gathered around to watch the final hope of the First Ones bend the knee to her new Lord.
If Adora wasn’t known across the lands for her skill in fighting, she’d be of no use to them. She’d be stacked up in a pit with the rest of her village.
As she made her way out of the throne room, ignoring the jeers and glares all around her, Adora wondered if death would have been better. Certainly it would have been more noble, but as she stood on the battlefield watching her comrades fall one by one, she knew it was a fight she couldn’t win.
A part of her cried out to keep fighting - to stand for as long as she could. But the more she did, the more she realized it would do no good to die that day. Her whole life, all Adora had ever known was to try. She tried in everything she did - to help people and do the right thing. She tried, even when the world kept taking from her. It was how she was raised, by Mara and Razz - to never give up.
So she didn’t, in her own way. Dying in an unwinnable battle would have been giving up.
Surrendering and letting herself live was how she could keep fighting. Even if the Horde were a horrendous monarchy intent on ruling every corner of Etheria. As long as she was here, maybe she could make enough good choices, have enough small influences to make some kind of a difference.
If she could save even one life as a member of Lord Hordak’s Royal Guard, then maybe it wouldn’t all be for nothing.
As she made her way out of the throne room, Adora took in the sights of Fright Castle. It was different from the castles she’d seen throughout Etheria - almost crackling with some kind of energy. Adora knew Lord Hordak’s war was against magic and those who wielded it, but there was something here that felt on the same level.
The walls stood tall and looming, guards stood in every direction. Watching, waiting, daring anyone to step out of line. Adora felt so lost here, so out of place - how was this her future now? Every day she would have to wake up here and survive? There was no hope of happiness. No chance at love or laughter or freedom.
It was a depressing thought, one Adora buried as deeply as she could. There was no time to cry about it, no time to show weakness. If she did, this place felt as if it could eat her alive.
Just as she reached what looked to be the knights barracks, a heavy rain started to fall from the sky as if the clouds themselves had been torn open. It was an all consuming pour, the drops hitting the stone of the castle with such force each one made a unique sound.
The rain here felt colder, like it might burrow into Adora’s skin and freeze over her blood. She wrapped her arms around herself as she approached the barracks, unsure if she would be able to just walk in.
That question was answered quickly when another guard, a woman with broad shoulders and scowl in her one eye not covered, walked up to her. “Well well, if it isn’t the First One’s favorite pet soldier.” She cackled like a withering old crow - the fat ones that eat too much when picking on dead bodies and pretending they’ve actually done something. “Look at you, absolutely pathetic aren’t you? Always knew you were a pampered pile of shit, but to see you actually surrender yourself to the Horde? Embarrassing.”
“If I’d waited any longer I might have gotten your other eye - then you wouldn’t have had to watch me surrender,” Adora said, wishing she hadn’t but unable to stop.
The soldier’s eye narrowed, head tilted to the side in anger.
Adora closed her eyes because she knew what was coming.
A fist landed directly into her stomach, doubling her over. She fell to her knees for the second time today. Both of them forced in very different ways.
“You really think you’re in a position to speak to me like that? To speak at all?” The knight turned around. “Hey, need some help over here with the new girl!”
Adora tried to push to her feet as she heard several wet footsteps approach her. Before she could make it all the way up, there were people grabbing at her arms, someone pulling on her hair and holding her head up.
She was fully restrained now, rain falling into her face and eyes as she looked up at the woman with one eye snarling down at her. A most triumphant smirk on her face.
“You’d do well to remember that you are alone here. To us, your fellow soldiers, you are fodder. Do you understand?”
Stubborn as ever, Adora held her ground.
“She’s talking to you,” one of them said, jerking on her hair in the process.
Adora had no time to respond before another fist found its way to her ribs - this one seemed to hit directly between two bones, way more painful than the first. This time when she recoiled into herself, she was still being held by the arms so the pain seemed to radiate even more.
A hand pinched her cheeks, holding her face up and forcing her to stare at her one eyed attacker.
“Know your place if you wish to avoid further humiliation.”
They let her go and Adora fell into the ever growing mud, her stomach burning in pain, her heart aching and her back soaked with the falling rain.
As she laid there, Adora wondered how much rain would have to fall before a large enough puddle of water would grow that it might drown her.
Maybe, she thought, it was a mistake to think she could do this. To think that anyone would be strong enough to survive here in the way she was trying.
Taking a deep breath, Adora dug her hands into the mud and pushed herself up. It was hard, and the blows she took were just now starting to really sting, but she couldn’t show weakness. She was here, she’d made her choice, she couldn’t give up on the first day.
“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” The voice speaking sounded genuinely concerned, which was somehow even more unsettling than the people who were clearly out to hurt her. Adora turned to look at the person approaching, only to see an absurdly large and well built woman walking towards her. “Did you fall? I fall a lot, especially in the mud when it rains. It can be so dang slippery!”
Adora frowned, staring up at a pair of kind and almost...innocent eyes. Was this another prisoner turned soldier?
“I’m fine,” Adora said, but still took the offered hand when she stood. Hands covered by massive mits - almost like clubs.
“You sure, because you’re covered in mud and you - oh!” The woman slowed when Adora winced and clutched at her stomach. “You’re hurt!”
“S’okay,” Adora forced herself to stand. “I just...need to find the barracks and wash up.”
“Oh right, are you joining the Knights Guard?” Adora nodded. “Great! I’m a part of that! I can show you the way! You were on the right path. I know what it’s like to get lost here. I’ve been here for almost twenty winters and I still have trouble finding my way around. I swear the walls in this castle change positions sometimes!”
As the woman continued to speak, Adora followed dutifully. It was hard not to, this was the only person in these castle walls that had not looked at Adora like she was the enemy. So far, the only one who had helped her up instead of forcing her to the ground in one way or another.
She followed as they made their way into another part of the castle. This one far less well decorated than that of Lord Hordak. There were no fancy carpets, the candles lit here had all burned for so long that there was a thick layer of wax all along the awnings.
It was much colder and had a distinct smell of mold and something else Adora couldn’t quite place - she hoped the rainfall would wash away the smell because it was nearly unbearable.
They passed the dining hall where a gathering of knights were all sitting together, talking far too loudly and drinking.
Why wouldn’t they be? They’d just won a two years long battle.
Eventually, the noise died down and the large woman led Adora to a much more narrow area. There were long hallways and they all had little nooks every five or so feet apart. It was dark and what flicking candle light there hardly helped.
“It’s not as bad in the morning, or when the sun is out. Rain Storms can make navigating through here a little tricky! Just don’t walk in on anyone using the latrine, they get really upset about that.” She spoke from what sounded like experience. Adora could only imagine the beating she’d get if that happened.
“I can wash up here?”
A delighted nod. “Yep!. There’s water and washrags in each stall, and a hole to do your business. If you have a change of clothes, you can do that here too and you...might...what?”
Adora must have been making some kind of face. “I don’t have a change of clothes.” She said, looking down at what was left of her outfit. Just her underclothes. She’d had her armor stripped and destroyed when she surrendered. She watched as they melted it down, threatening over and over again to throw her in with it.
She almost wished they had when they branded the Horde symbol onto her back.
“Oh right! That makes sense if you’re new! I can fetch you some night clothes and a tabard. Then we can get you fitted for your new armor in the morning before training.”
Adora nodded, knowing full well training meant she’d be a punching bag. “I...thank you,” she cast her head down. “You’re not like the other knights I’ve met.”
“Yeah, they’re all kind of cranky, and I don’t really see the point in that. It’s hard enough fighting a war and living here where it rains all the time. Not sure why you would want to add a foul mood to that!”
“I like that,” Adora said, a faint smile threatening to escape. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Scorpia! Knight guard to Lady Entrapta!”
“Entrapta?”
Scorpia nodded. “She’s the blacksmith and overall tinkerer - kind of hard to keep track of, but it is my duty to do exactly that! She’s fun, and a little scary - and kind of boring.” Scorpia held up her hands. “But after I lost these in a battle, they didn’t want to risk putting me out in combat, so I stay here and protect Lady Entrapta while she does her work for the Horde.”
Adora had assumed as such with the hands, the way they were all balled up and covered, it would be inefficient in any other circumstance.
“Well even without hands, you’ve managed to keep yourself strong.”
Scorpia beamed. “Thank you! I never really had hands, but you're still so kind!" Adora frowned at the suggestion that Scorpia never had...hands, but decided to keep quiet. "So are you! I mean look at you, I can see your muscles under your torn underclothes!”
“Oh,” Adora looked down at her exposed midriff and covered herself. “I could really use a change.”
“Of course!” Scorpia started to move. “I’ll find you something to wear, you pick one of these stalls and clean up, you can throw your clothes in one of the holes if you need to, it’ll all be taken to the river anyway.”
With a slow nod, Adora watched Scorpia disappear down the hallway.
That left Adora here, in the dark and alone again.
She took a deep breath and found her way into one of the stalls. It had a window, but the outside was so gloomy and dark it hardly added any light. Still, it was nice to look out at the vast valley that stretched beyond the castle walls. She could see the river just below, flowing powerfully as it always did, but even more so with the rain. Beyond that was the Whispering Woods, where the last vestige of hope for Etheria’s battle against the Horde remained.
That was where Adora and the last of her people were trying to reach. To join the rebellion and stand against the Horde.
They hadn’t made it, and now Adora was here, in service to Lord Hordak and she would probably be sent to destroy the Rebellion and bring Lord Hordak his full power over Etheria.
Even if Adora knew, deep down, she wouldn’t allow that to happen. Even if it cost her her life. Even if it was the stupidest thing she could ever do. If the time came when Hordak might snuff out the last remaining resistance against him, Adora would find a way to put a sword through his chest.
For now though, all she wanted to do was not feel like she’d been rolling around in the mud for two straight days.
Carefully, Adora stripped out of her underclothes and felt a burning sensation in her ribs. She looked down, trying to make out anything she could in the darkness. There was a bit of discoloration, but nothing too severe. They just hurt, everything hurt and she was pretty sure it would for a long time.
Adora tossed her underclothes into the hole, not wanting to risk looking through it to see where they might end up. Instead, she found a bucket of water sitting next to it and a few rags lying alongside.
She took her time and made sure to clean up as best as she could. There was more dried blood on her body than she’d expected. A few scrapes on her arms and red bunched up under her fingertips. The battle had been brutal and long, her body ached for rest. If she had to fall to her knees one more time today she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it back to her feet.
Adora’s mind wandered to the battle - what she remembered. Standing her ground as so many around her fell. The Horde’s numbers were unmatched, but their true strength came in their lack of heart. They threw themselves into battle with little regard for survival. It was unnerving and unstoppable.
Mara had told her as much, told her countless times that the battle against Lord Hordak was unwinnable - but Adora didn’t listen.
She wanted too badly to believe in good, to believe in the hope given to her. That she was the one who could turn the tide. The First Ones had never seen a soldier so skilled, so powerful and so determined.
Her whole life, that’s what Adora had been taught, been trained for - and she failed.
Then the cowardice inside of her refused to die in battle, instead surrendering and now she was here - a prisoner of war with the enemy’s symbol forever etched into her skin.
“Adora,” that voice, slow and terrifying, filled her ears. It felt as if it was coming from every wall of the castle.
She turned and saw glowing, white eyes staring at her. A face covered by a mask and the familiar pulse of magic permeating all around this daunting figure.
Keeping her back to the woman, Adora bowed her head, uncaring that she was naked and exposed, but also hoping the darkness would protect her a little. “My lady,” she said, unsure of how to address this woman.
“You are...something, aren’t you. So powerful and...beautiful.” Adora closed her eyes, willing her hands to stop shaking as she felt this woman take a few steps towards her. “There is something special in you, something...unique.” A hand fell on Adora’s shoulder, it made her skin tingle.
Snake like fingers crawled along her neck, Adora didn’t dare move. “I’m nothing special, ma’am. Just a soldier.”
“Oh Adora,” her thumb dusted along Adora’s throat. “You are so much more than that. Just you wait - I’ll show you.” The hand removed itself and Adora exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding. “Come morning, I expect you to make your way to the throne room, you will find me there and I will give you your assignment. Do not make me wait, do you understand?”
Adora nodded. “Yes, my lady. I’ll be there.”
“So formal, so proper,” the woman laughed at her. “You may refer to me as Shadow Weaver - I am no royal figure.” The next words spoken felt like they were coming from inside Adora’s head - magic. “I am your salvation, dear. I can keep you alive.”
A moment later, the feeling was gone and so was Shadow Weaver.
The tears threatened again, but Adora continued to hold them back. It would only be harder for her if everyone here saw her break. No, she had to be strong, she had to keep her head up - she had to fight. Even if she wasn’t holding her sword and riding on Swift Wind, she had to keep fighting.
“Okay! I found you something to sleep in!” Adora jumped at the sound of Scorpia’s voice, hiding herself behind the wall and covering up. “Wow, why is it so cold in here all of the sudden? Adora, are you there?!”
“I’m here,” she said, leaning her head around the corner and reaching out for the clothes. “Thank you, Scorpia.”
“Of course!” She handed them over, the brightest smile on her face. It seemed so out of place. “I told the armory to expect you tomorrow too! So when you get some time swing by there before training and get outfitted. Also I can wait outside if you want and then show you to the beds. I’m...you look like you could use a rest.”
Adora was exhausted, but a part of her knew that she wouldn't be able to find sleep tonight. She wondered how long it would take to feel comfortable enough to sleep here. Would she live long enough to find out?
Still, she wasn’t about to stick her nose up at Scorpia’s kindness.
“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”
As the sun rose, Adora felt entirely unrested - she had fallen asleep at some point, long after she ran out of tears to cry.
The barracks were much larger than she expected and to her surprise, she’d been given her own space. It was small and uncomfortable, but Adora was appreciative of the privacy. Even if she was fully aware that they had chained her door shut.
She was still a prisoner, at least for now, until they put her in their armor.
The sound of the chain being removed drew her off the mat on the floor. She stood, her back sore from the brand and the stone she’d laid on all night, but nothing she couldn't handle. Her ribs hurt too, but even that ache had dulled. Adora had always had a high tolerance for pain - apparently the universe was intent on testing that.
“Come on,” someone called out. It was a new voice she hadn’t heard. Not Scorpia or the one eyed woman. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to ready yourself before training.”
Adora stood up, hands behind her back. “I was asked by Shadow Weaver to meet her in the throne room this morning for assignment.”
This person sighed and when Adora made her way out of the chamber, she saw her. A shorter, stocky woman with long, tangled hair and a stern face. She looked tired, overworked and mean, but not in the same way as the one eyed woman. No, this person was mad, but it seemed like that was just her nature. “Of course you were,” she said. “Alright, go talk to Weaver and then come back, if Octavia asks you’d better tell her about the Weaver thing. Don’t throw me into a stampede. I’m just doing my job.”
“I will,” Adora nodded, still unsure of whether to move or not.
The woman rolled her eyes. “Go!”
Adora did, taking off for the throne room and ignoring the looks of the other knights as they started their day.
The sun was out this morning, a welcome sight. The ground beneath her feet was still wet and sticky with mud from the rain that fell throughout the night, but the warmth in the air was nice. Adora could see the castle slowly coming to life in the wake of a new day - it was much more vibrant now. Banners were hung with the Horde symbol in every direction.
So there was no chance you’d forget where you were.
Not that Adora ever would.
Even the throne room felt different in the light of day. Sun poured in through the slotted windows that lined the walls on the right side, painting the stone beneath Adora’s feet with light. Her soles were worn and bloody from walking without shoes for the last two days, but hopefully she’d be fitted for new boots today. She was tired of walking through this place without armor. It made her feel too vulnerable.
The other thing of note about the throne room now was how much emptier it was. The throws of people who were standing around watching her humiliation yesterday were gone. Even Lord Hordak himself was nowhere to be seen - his throne empty and only a few people stood around it reading parchments and conversing quietly.
Adora stopped just short of being within earshot of them, instead decided to wait and hope that Weaver would find her. She elt out of place here, dressed in only a tattered gambeosen and nothing more. She looked around, trying and failing not to study what she saw. Adora was a strategist, she was a soldier and she knew how to take what she saw and exploit it’s weaknesses.
Like the steps leading up to the throne - too wide, too easy to climb in a hurry if needed. To rush an unknowing Lord and drive her sword through his heart.
Nobody would be able to stop her in time. They’d kill her on the way down, but the deed would be done - the world would be free.
She forced herself to stop - there was nothing she could do right now. She didn’t even have a sword.
“Adora,” that voice, the way she said her name, it sent a chill down Adora’s spine. “Punctual as expected,” she met Weaver’s eyes, or the painted versions of them on her mask. Weaver moved with such purpose, almost as if she were gliding. Adora couldn’t help but notice that her presence in the throne room made everyone else silent. “How did you sleep, dear?”
Adora kept eye contact, her face emotionless. “Fine,” she said.
Weaver nodded. “I know the cell in the barracks can be uncomfortable. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that though. Your new assignment should see you moved to the guards room in the Royal chamber.”
That got Adora’s attention, if only because she was sincerely hoping she wasn’t going to be assigned as Weaver’s personal guard - not with the way Weaver looked at her and...touched her.
“I am prepared for whatever you may ask of me.”
“Such a proper girl,” the tone was borderline condescending. “This is for you,” a burst of magical energy filled the throne room. Adora wondered how this was allowed, all she’d heard growing up was Hordak’s hatred of magic, his plans to rid Etheria of it forever. Yet, he had his own sorceress, one who seemed connected to every part of this castle.
Suddenly, a light burst from Weaver’s hand, a booming energy that Adora could swear made her blood pulse. She watched as that light took shape, sharp and beautiful, a sword appeared like a star that had been freshly pulled from the sky.
Only this wasn’t a mirage - instead, the sword took shape and light started to reflect off of it. When Weaver reached out, she held it and the sword had weight. She’d made it appear out of nowhere.
“This is the Sword of Protection.” Weaver held the sword in both hands, cradling it like a child. “The sword wielded by the one who is asked to protect that which is considered valuable in this realm. A sword I am giving to you as part of your position here in Lord Hordak’s rule.”
Seeing the sword held out to her, Adora reached out carefully and grabbed the hilt. It was heavy, more so than the sword she’d carried in the First Ones army. Still, it felt comfortable, perhaps more so than her old weapon.
This sword felt like it was made for her.
“I will carry it with honor.”
“You will make sure that nothing ever comes between you and that sword, do I make myself clear.” The cutting tone of her words drew Adora away from her trance. She felt her head bow.
“Yes, my lady.”
“Please,” those hands found their way onto her again, this time wrapping around her wrists. “Call me Shadow Weaver.”
Adora swallowed the lump in her throat. “Of course, Shadow Weaver.”
“Now then, as to your assignment. It is with great...resignation that while I wish to keep you close, Lord Hordak has decided you are best fit to be the Knight’s Guard to Princess Catra."
That was a surprise. She had assumed she’d be cleaning out the bogs or standing in as a target practice dummy.
“I...I what?” Adora hated when she stammered, it’s why she didn’t talk much around people she didn’t know. “You wish for me to guard a princess?”
“Lord Hordak’s bastard, yes. She is...a pest - but she serves a purpose here in this kingdom and her protection is of importance to Lord Hordak.” Adora couldn’t believe it - she didn’t even know Hordak had a child. The stories all told of Hordak were that he had no family of any kind. It was almost as if he’d fallen from the sky one day and started tearing Etheria apart.
“I will, Shadow Weaver. I will guard her with my life.”
Adora couldn’t see it, but she imagined a devilish smirk on Weaver’s face as she spoke. “Good, child...good. You will be subjugated to her. You will protect her. You will do as she bids necessary and you will keep an eye on her for me.”
That made Adora frown. “I will?”
“Princess Catra is...troubled. She cares more about the chaos she can inflict on this kingdom than she does about her role in it. Because of that, she has been removed from the public eye and is mostly kept isolated. With the end of this war drawing closer, we are concerned about attempts on her life and more so, worried about what she might do to deter the Horde’s rise simply out of boredom or spite.”
That didn’t sound right. She was Hordak’s daughter, why would she cause trouble? Why wouldn’t she be at his side, watching with the same joy Hordak had as he tore down kingdom after kingdom.
Why did Adora care? She was just a pawn now, wasn’t she? A soldier - all she was good for. “Very well, Shadow Weaver. I will protect Princess Catra with my life, I will guard this sword until my final breath and I will keep you updated on everything.”
Weaver’s head tilted to the side, and a hand found its way to cup Adora’s cheek. “Hmmm, so very good, child. You are everything the stories speak of.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Nothing, my dear - nothing for you to fuss over.” Weaver’s thumb kept stroking the same spot on Adora’s cheek - it made her stomach hurt. “I’ve notified the armory of your impending arrival - they already have your equipment prepared, simply tell them your name. Then report to Princess Catra in her chambers after training. She’s expecting you.”
Adora nodded, they were orders and she was good at those. She could focus on that and not the endless pit of unanswered questions and crippling doubt swirling around in her chest.
Taking a deep breath, Adora bent a knee and bowed to Shadow Weaver. “I will see it done.”
When she looked back up, Weaver was gone - only a trail of black magic in her wake. Adora looked around the throne room and saw that everyone there had calmed, returned to their work and their conversations.
Adora stood up, clutching her new sword at her side.