In the end, there were seven tests taken over the span of three days. Adora had been so physically and mentally exhausted by Entrapta's torture methods (tests, Adora) that by test five she'd already lost all her resolve to even fight it anymore.
("You're such a baby," Catra rolled her eyes at her girlfriend who was lying curled up in their bed. Even so, she set down the bowl of soup on the bedside table, knowing the smell of warm broth would likely rouse Adora to her senses sooner than later.
"She took fifteen blood samples, Catra. Fifteen!"
"She only took thirteen," Catra gently reminded her. "You were poked fifteen times because you were squirming so much. You realize you're not allowed to do that during the x-rays, right?"
"They use magic for that," Adora pouted, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I'm fine with magic. I'm not fine with stabbing.")
Blood work. Needles. Full body x-rays. Physicals. Toxicology testing (no one except Entrapta seemed to be very thrilled about that one).
Test after test and Adora seemed to have all the wrong answers. With each pending result, Adora felt like she knew less and less about herself.
It had been easier before she was made aware of it. Most of her anomalous behaviors she could write off as She-Ra or simply growing up different in the Horde. But with each lab report that showed up on her desk, Adora felt an ever-growing sense of disconnect between herself and her body.
Not to mention, she really didn't have the mental stamina to really understand the science behind all of those reports. Entrapta usually sent her a watered down version, but she couldn't help skimming the official findings. Words like "abnormality" and "alien" often stood out.
One night, Catra tried her hardest to get Adora to come to bed. Just a few more pages until I'm done with this one, Adora had said, squeezing Catra's hand before turning back to the report she was annotating. It wasn't until Catra woke up the next morning to see Adora still staring hazily at those papers, eyes bloodshot and hands trembling from lack of sleep, that she decided there needed to be an intervention.
"Perfuma said that it's important to re-channel our negative outlets into a positive form or something," Catra had said as she dragged Adora through the woods. "So, we are done obsessing over Entrapta's data."
"But-"
"Just trust me, okay?" Catra said. "I'm not saying to drop the whole thing. I'm just trying to get you to explore all this junk in a healthier setting."
"The...middle of the woods?"
Catra grumbled something oddly reminiscent of the word 'patience' and Adora was about to tell her how hypocritical she was being as she dragged her through the woods, but they soon entered a familiar area. If Adora hadn't been fighting it so much, she probably would have realized where they were going much sooner.
Adora stared up at the library that also doubled as Bow's childhood home. Recent were the memories of the many nights she'd spent with Catra there. This place was already full of some of their happiest moments post-war (if not largely due to George and Lance's excellent hospitality). Even though they'd been researching the disappearance of the magicats, a...difficult subject matter, Adora had come to miss the late nights huddled by the fireplace, cozied up next to each other in comfortable silence as they read from their respective books or files.
"I think I get why we're here," Adora said, more willingly following Catra inside. The other woman had knocked but didn't wait for a reply as she entered.
"Glad you're up to speed," Catra quipped. "This place is full of first ones junk. If we're going to find out anything about you, it's not going to be from some lab report." Distractedly, Catra added, "Not that Entrapta doesn't know what she's talking about, but you don't know what she's talking about, so until we get some actual answers that we do something with-"
"This is great, Cat," Adora smiled warmly at her girlfriend. Despite their surroundings and the actual purpose of their visit, Adora's mind was finally away from herself for the first time since that hike, and was intently focused on Catra.
"Girls!" Lance lit up as soon as he saw them in the entrance hall. "George, the girls are here! Quick, get the kettle going!"
With some warm tea in her stomach (and a few cookies, because Lance always had them on hand), Adora felt more put together. Catra helped her pick out which archives they wanted to look at first and watched languidly as Adora lost herself in her research. Catra's head in her lap, old maps in hand, Adora had to admit this was much better than breaking her brain over Entrapta's charts.
"Hey, I think this one is of the Northern Reach." Like most others in the pile, it wasn't a normal map in the picture-and-diagram way. Instead, it was made of words, intricate overlapping circles and branching lines making the parchment look more like a starry night sky than any notable landmarks.
Catra let out a little curious noise as Adora angled the scroll in her hand so that Catra could see it better. For the most part, Catra didn't understand what she was looking at in the slightest. But, she remembered some of what Adora had taught her.
("Break it down into small, manageable pieces. First Ones writing is all about motion. Travel from one small piece to the next, following the movement of the words."
Doubtfully, Catra stared down at Adora's scribblings — what was supposed to be a list of goods to get from the market. Asking her to read First Ones writing was one thing. Asking her to decipher Adora's illegible mess? Good luck.)
"That means ice?" Catra pointed to the bottom right corner of the scroll.
"Yeah," Adora confirmed. "Specifically, it's a warning that the sleet gets slippery in that area. It could be dangerous."
"Everything is dangerous in the Northern Reach. It's a snowy death trap."
Adora was sure she'd agree if she remembered what actually happened when she was there.
That...had been an interesting day. When Catra had used that disk on her, she had felt so betrayed. Now? She could hardly imagine Catra, the woman currently purring in her lap, doing anything like that anymore. It seemed ridiculous when she put in perspective how much they had changed in such a short amount of time.
"Hey, Catra?" Adora asked tentatively. Catra flicked her tail across Adora's nose to show she was listening. "I've been thinking."
"Trying new things I see."
"Asshole," Adora laughed, poking Catra between the eyes. The other woman let out a weak hiss. "I was just...just thinking...you seem a lot happier."
Catra stopped being a brat for a moment as she realized what Adora said. Growing red, she mumbled, "Well, yeah. Duh."
"I mean it," Adora set the map aside, giving her full attention to her girlfriend. "You're happier than I've ever seen you, even back in the Horde. You have that confidence that's always been so you and...and even the whole adjusting thing, to life outside a war, I mean..." Adora chuckled nervously, hand rubbing at the back of her neck. "You've been handling it a lot better than I have."
Catra stared up at her in contemplation. It was no secret between them that Adora was struggling. A lifetime of fighting (and channeling all your self-worth into said fighting) does wonders for a person. All of this alien nonsense was just another stressor to add to Adora's ever-growing list.
"This has been great," Adora referenced the current impromptu vacation from the chaos. "But..." She shifted uncomfortably, feeling Catra's gaze bore into hers, quiet and supportive but still intimidating in that way that Adora just knew Catra could see right into her soul. "I think I need help. Real help. Like...like..."
Adora fumbled for her words and Catra knew it was her time to step in. "Like the therapy sessions?"
Hating to admit it, not really knowing why admitting it was even so bad in the first place, Adora nodded quietly. Even though she knew it'd never come, she still prepared for the backlash, some part of her expecting Catra to make fun of her or call her weak.
(Which, you know, was exactly why she needed that therapy.)
"It's helped me a lot," Catra said instead. "Talking with Perfuma. You don't even have to go to her. I know Mystacor has their people, though you know how I feel about that place." Sorcerers? Magic? Yeah, she'll pass for now. "It's nice though. Even when it's not nice. Does that make sense?"
Adora still looked a little lost.
"It's like, even though I don't want to talk about certain things, in the end I'm better for it. And Perfuma knows what she's doing and how to guide the conversation so I don't implode or anything." Catra reached up, placing a hand on Adora's cheek, smiling when the girl nuzzled into the touch. "What matters is that, when we talk about our problems, they become less of these big and chaotic monsters in our heads and more of a manageable...thing. A thing that we might not know how to deal with yet, a thing that might get out of control here and there, but it's just a thing. It's not us. We aren't defined by it or- or consumed by it. We can get some control back."
"Control?" Adora lightly joked, "Pretty sure I haven't had control of my life ever since I was chucked into a portal and sent to this mess of a planet."
Catra snorted at the accuracy. "You have got to be the most unfortunate space traveler I've ever met. Of all the luck, right?"
"I don't know," Adora shrugged, the light back in her eyes as she quietly said, "An endless expanse of space and I still managed to find you? Sounds pretty lucky to me."
The hand that had been caressing Adora's cheek suddenly turned to smothering the girl as Catra tried to push her absolute nerd of a girlfriend away from her.
"You're ridiculous!"
Adora fought back, sweeping Catra into her arms. The girl shrieked and flailed aimlessly as Adora buried her face in Catra's neck, planting short chaste kisses all along her skin.
"A menace!" Catra shouted between her peals of laughter. "An absolute, cheesy, lovesick idiot!"
"I'm your idiot though," Adora reminded her. Her lips were flush with Catra's underside of her jaw when she mumbled against her. "And you're mine."
"Sh-shut up," Catra tried to keep it together but feeling the vibration of Adora's voice against her skin? That was something else.
She certainly didn't pull away.
The next morning — they'd stayed the night — Catra and Adora sat down for breakfast with Bow's dads. The tension between the two was thick as George served them up their plates of pancakes. Somehow, out of willing ignorance or sheer poor observational skills, the men didn't seem to notice the odd energy. Even Adora, the textbook morning person out of the couple, was suspiciously quiet as she busied herself with chugging her orange juice.
"So," George started, aiming to make conversation. "Bow told us a little about the recent experiments you've been conducting, Adora. Fascinating stuff, really. First One biology must be fascinating."
"Hopefully our materials helped," Lance piped up. "You two spent quite some time in the First One section of the library." Turning to Catra, since Adora was still hiding her face behind her glass, Lance asked, "So, tell me, did you discover anything interesting about Adora's body?"
Adora damn near choked, orange juice spraying everywhere.
•••••
As they had discussed, Adora reached out to Perfuma. The sessions were slow going at first. Adora was never that skilled at talking about her issues and even with Perfuma's guiding questions, she rarely ever knew how to put her feelings into words.
Adora was all about action. She was used to talking out her negative feelings with her fists. Perfuma's meditation exercises didn't help either, because as soon as Adora opened up the dam to her thoughts, it became overwhelming. Her mind couldn't ever just pick a topic and stick with it, it seemed.
It wasn't until Adora casually mentioned to Perfuma the maps she had seen at the library that the flower princess came to a (admittedly obvious) realization — even if this very act was part of what got Adora spiraling with this alien mess in the first place.
"Adora," Perfuma asked at the end of another less-than-productive session, "What do you think about doing these talks somewhere else?"
Reflexively, Adora glanced around them. Normally they did these in the Brightmoon gardens, same as Catra would. Did Perfuma get tired of the commute or something?
"I was thinking we could bring our sessions on the move. Would you be up for a short hike the next time we meet?"
"Oh," Adora's eyes widened in understanding. "Yeah, I don't see why not."
"Excellent."
As Perfuma had guessed, Adora worked well with the physical stimulus. She could use her excess energy to keep her body in motion, while at the same time she used her mental energy to organize her thoughts. Not only did it help Adora get her nervous energy out, but it also gave Adora an excuse to not squirm in the silence. Instead of rambling to fill the awkward holes in conversation, Adora could just chalk it up to enjoying the scenery.
It was less pressure. Not to mention, Adora got to explore the woods more intimately than ever before. It didn't take long for Adora to start associating those well-worn pathways with release and healing.
After one particularly exhausting day, the two took a break by a small pond. Slumping against a nearby tree, Adora sat on its roots, pulling her backpack into her lap. While Perfuma sat down to do some mid-hike stretches, Adora took out a scroll she'd brought with her. It was blank.
Every single session she had, Adora brought with her something to write with. It was an old habit. She was used to taking notes, though she had never once written anything down during one of these. She couldn't bring herself to put her deepest vulnerabilities in writing, even though she knew journaling had helped out Catra immensely.
Rolling the quill between her fingers, Adora stared at the blank parchment, then the water. Not thinking much of it, she started to sketch out something, hand moving freely as she got lost in the process.
If Perfuma was curious as to what she was doing, she held herself back from asking until Adora set the quill down again several minutes later. Never mind that Perfuma had finished stretching ages ago.
"What did you make?"
Adora looked down at the scroll. That was a good question. She turned the parchment around so Perfuma could see — not quite a drawing, but not quite writing either.
"It's a map," Adora said, voice small, like she didn't quite believe it yet.
Perfuma did her best to reign in her excitement but not even she could contain a grin at what she sensed would be a major breakthrough. "Like the ones who were studying at the library?"
Adora nodded. "Bow's dads said it was like calligraphy meets geography. "
"That would make sense."
"I'm glad you think so," Adora frowned a little, "Because I don't actually know what calligraphy is and I didn't want to ask."
Perfuma laughed, earning her a smile in return from Adora.
•••••
It became a hobby. On Adora's off days, she would go to whatever corner of Etheria interested her the most that month and spend hours wandering, cataloging, mapping. Sometimes she'd take company, other times she'd enjoy the quiet on her own.
More often than not, the end results were useless. Nobody could really read the maps except Adora, and compared to the older ones in the library, her's were by no means perfect.
But, as Adora was coming to accept, not everything had to be perfect.
Once finished with smaller projects, Catra would spend hours trying to translate them. She was getting much better, especially now that they had a real excuse to sit down together and discuss the language. Seeing Catra so invested never failed to make Adora giddy for the rest of the day, especially when she'd see how Catra would genuinely light up once she'd 'completed' a map.
The more complicated ones were often done over multiple days and even Catra, with all her pride, didn't dare to touch those yet. One day, she swore she would but...she also valued her sanity.
Adora did too. That's why she tried to limit bigger projects like that. Still, having something to get completely lost in was amazing. When she drew her maps, all of her focus went to that and her brain cleared for a moment, growing quiet as it chugged along like a little machine.
That's why she started planning trips. A few months ago, if someone had asked her to take a break from the rebuilding and the rehabilitating efforts, Adora would have looked at them as though they'd lost their mind (and she'd probably turn into She-Ra, ready to lead a search party to help find it). The only time she ever left Brightmoon was to help in Salineas, or the Fright Zone, or the Whispering Woods, or-
(You get the point.)
Now, though, Adora had a purpose to leave Brightmoon that went beyond her general duties as She-Ra.
Part of it was about reclamation. Using this skill, refining it, recognizing the art form as a way to connect with her people...acknowledging that not every part they played in the universe's fate led to destruction.
The First Ones had cartographers. They had people who doodled in the margins of atlases. Their maps were coffee stained and torn and well-used and annotated because, for all their shortcomings, they were travelers before they were ever colonizers.
Though Adora didn't have a colonizing bone in her body, she was built to tackle all kinds of worlds. Before the First Ones (Eternians, as they called themselves) ever lost their way in war and magic, they were a nomadic people — the book-keepers of the stars.
At least, that's what Adora had discovered through her own historical kind of research and Entrapta's scientific version.
The tests suggested plenty of curious oddities about Adora and, for the most part, she was more than willing to test Entrapta's theories.
For example, just recently she had finished a week-long solo expedition through the Crimson Waste.
It wasn't much of a waste anymore. After the war, the once desolate sands blossomed with new foliage and life. Someone had to make sense of the maze-like jungle.
(If you're paying attention, you'll see that Adora was able to combine both her need to help with the rehabilitation and her love for her new hobby into one. She was nothing if not resourceful.)
The Crimson Waste venture had taught her quite a few things about herself: One, she still enjoyed a good fight, if the perils of the Waste had taught her anything. Two, in conjunction with one, she had not forgotten how to use a sword in her brief hiatus from fighting. Three, as fun as drinking was, it was a very, very bad idea to drink in the Waste, considering the drinks were strong and she was stronger (R.I.P. to the bar owner who now needed a new ceiling).
Four. Even with the Waste's new look, the climate still reflected that of a desert, especially in the more remote areas — Adora hardly felt the effect.
It took her a while to realize anything was happening. It wasn't until Bow and Glimmer popped in for a quick check-in when it all became glaringly obvious.
They had sent a message ahead of time that they were coming to visit. Adora had made sure to start cooking dinner early (yeah, that's right! Maybe she couldn't handle a full kitchen, but she knew how to build a fire and hunt just fine, even if it was a little bland). Her humble campsite wasn't much, just a portable tent, a sleeping bag, and her cartography supplies, but she knew they weren't expecting much else.
She didn't realize they'd expected blankets. Or jackets, in general.
"It's a desert, Bow," Glimmer whispered to her fiancé. Well, she thought she was whispering, at least. "I thought it was supposed to be hot!"
"You're telling me?" Bow's teeth chattered as he held his arms around his exposed stomach.
"You two alright?" Adora looked up from the fire.
"Oh, yeah!" Bow plastered on a smile. "All good."
Glimmer rolled her eyes, not bothering with the politeness. "It's cold as shit, Adora."
Adora raised an eyebrow. It...really wasn't that bad. Maybe she was just better acclimated? And she was sitting by the fire.
"Here," She thoughtlessly shrugged off her jacket, tossing it over to them.
"Are you sure?" Bow looked at Adora like she was crazy.
"She's sure," Glimmer answered for her, already tugging the jacket around them. Her eyes widened as she felt the inside, "Gosh, you are like a personal heater! How is that even possible?"
"I guess I just run hot," Adora shrugged. She turned her attention to the fire again, not wanting to overcook the meat.
"I'm surprised you can stand the Waste in the day then."
"Well, I mean...it's not that hot either. I usually don't even take my jacket off, honestly."
"I remember you did the same when we were here before," Bow said, looking like he was thinking hard about something. "You know, now that I think about it, you really wear this jacket everywhere, huh?"
Adora smiled a little. "Well, yeah. It, uh...it has some personal meaning to it." Adora liked to think of it as her lucky charm, almost. (Nevermind all the horrible trauma she experienced wearing it, but, you know).
"Yeah," Bow nodded. His mind was in the Crimson Waste. The Northern Reach. The Kingdom of Snows...she was in a fully sleeveless dress and yet...
"Adora, what's the coldest you've ever been?"
That seemed like a stupid question. Like Bow, her mind immediately went to Frosta's palace or the Northern Reach. He'd been there with her both of those times. He had to have known.
When she said that though, he wasn't satisfied. Instead, he pressed, "Yeah, those places are cold, objectively. But...have you ever been cold?"
Adora blinked at him a couple times. Again, it seemed like such a ridiculous question. Of course she'd been cold before.
But...but now that she thought about it...had she?
"Oh, I know what you're doing!" Glimmer jumped in, seeing where Bow was going with his line of questioning. "What about hot? Have you ever overheated or something?"
The Fright Zone was hot. It was full of machinery. Adora's old barracks were sweltering in the summer — she knew because Catra would always claim that Adora's cool skin was the only reason they'd sleep in the same bunk together, or why Catra insisted she sit shoulder-to-shoulder with her (though, in retrospect, Adora had her doubts there weren't any ulterior motives).
But Adora never fully understood what Catra was talking about. Sure, it was hot. Objectively, that was just true. That was never a reason to complain though, or even a reason to take off her jacket, even when her old squad would tease her for it.
And in the winter? When field exercises would go for days outside and the biting cold would burn people's noses...Adora never stopped to think about it. She just hadn't cared, it wasn't part of the mission, and complaining wouldn't make it warmer. And, well, did it really need to be warmer? Because Adora had felt exactly the same.
In all the highs and lows, Adora had felt exactly the same.
"Huh," Was Adora's brilliant remark after all that reflection.
As she sat, the white undershirt the only thing standing between her and the bone-chilling air of the night, she didn't even have a single goosebump prickling against her skin. There was no chattering of the teeth or shivers.
Long after Bow and Glimmer returned to Brightmoon, soon after she came back from the Waste, Adora set up a day with Entrapta to experiment with this new revelation.
As it turned out, given that Adora was built for exploration in the first place, her body knew how to adapt to different climates. Depending on the temperature, her body could regulate its own internal heat, meaning she truly could stay at a consistent equilibrium.
So, Catra really hadn't been lying when she said Adora could be a human-sized ice pack in the summers, and Adora truly could be a personal heater in the complete opposite environment.
"It's kind of cool," Adora said to Catra after she finished explaining it all.
"I don't really care about the science behind it," Catra snuggled in closer to Adora, having non-stop cuddled the woman ever since she'd gotten back. "I'm just glad I can now fully take advantage of your new power."
"It's not new, and you certainly have used this to your advantage before."
"Yeah, but now I can do it on purpose. There's a difference."
"What do I get in return for my trouble?" Adora teased, as if lying in her room with Catra wasn't one of her all-time favorite activities.
"You get me," Catra said in her 'well duh' tone. "You're welcome."
Adora laughed before she kissed the top of Catra's head. "I certainly can't complain about that." Catra let out a low purr, so Adora kissed her again. Whispering, she said, "I missed you. It was fun but I'm glad to be back."
"Missed you too, I guess," Catra mumbled. Adora knew that was a slight understatement but she'd let it slide.
"I love you."
Catra tilted her head up to meet Adora's dopey smile. She then turned her head, bunting the underside of Adora's chin, scent-marking her purposefully (they learned that word in an old Magicat book and Catra was very embarrassed to discover there was a name for that).
"I love you too," Catra said, though her actions already said enough.
As they laid there, Adora started to drift off. It had been a long few weeks and she wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next couple days. Before she could though, Catra squeezed her hand.
"Show me your map stuff tomorrow?"
Adora smiled deeper, happy to feel so supported in her hobby — because it wasn't just a hobby. It was this thing she was allowed to do, this thing that helped her understand herself better, this thing that was for her (how beautiful and selfish was that?). It was this silly little thing that made her happy, just for the sake of being happy.
Catra knew that and was encouraging about it every step of the way. It meant everything to Adora to be able to share it all with her.
"Tomorrow," Adora agreed.