She-Ra One Shots

Snowfall

CW: Implied Suicide/Self-Harm

A restless evening leads to a late night reflection on the balcony

•••••

Adora's hands had surely frozen in place on the railing. It was a cold enough night that, seven stories below her, a thick frost was already building up on the thin blades of grass. The bleak trees became barren and every petal on every flower curled up into itself as the usual vibrant colors of Brightmoon's gardens turned a stark, glistening white.

The railing was metal, cheap, and it clung to Adora's exposed skin. It was a temporary thing, there to replace the old balcony that had been broken when looters and clones ransacked her room during the time the castle had been lost to Prime. Perhaps, if the railing were still stone, Adora wouldn't have lost all the feeling in her fingers by now after standing out there for...how long?

The night-moons were only rising higher in the sky and Adora's hands were only becoming number by the minute, but not even the growing stillness of the night, nor the soft purrs of her girlfriend sleeping soundly behind her, were enough to force Adora to pry her hands away, to lure the young woman back to bed.

She felt so silly, Adora admitted to Catra one night. Because the war was over, and Brightmoon was her home again, and there weren't any looming threats anymore, so why couldn't Adora sleep until she'd checked everywhere — behind every door, inside every closet, underneath the balcony, and underneath the bed — for intruders?

Not silly, Catra had told her at the time, some too-early morning, exhausted but not tired. That was it, though, and they never talked about it again and Catra never made fun of her for it but she also never said anything when Adora inevitably crept out of bed for a second time in thirty minutes Just to make sure.

Behind the door, inside the closet, inside the other closet across the room, over the railing and underneath the balcony, on hands and knees underneath the bed, and finally back behind the door again in case someone had snuck in while she'd been distracted.

If Adora had to guess, that was the issue, really. She couldn't do her routine. Not tonight. No, because tonight they were having a sleepover with Glimmer, Bow, Scorpia, and Perfuma, as ordered by the Queen herself to celebrate the reconstruction of Plumeria (a pet project compared to their many other messes, but an accomplishment all the same).

Her friends were all fast asleep in her and Catra's room — too many of them, too risky. What if Adora made enough noise to wake them up, tripped over someone, got caught? How would she explain to them that she couldn't even walk into her own room without feeling like she was being stalked by some invisible enemy, someone who wanted to hurt her and the people she loved?

It was cold. Adora would've liked to be back in her room instead of standing this makeshift guard. No, she would've liked to be in her bed, snuggled up close to Catra, enjoying the warmth of the blankets coupled with the softness of her girlfriend's fur, those deep rumbling purrs defrosting the ice in her lungs.

All of it was inside, waiting for her to finish her rounds. But she couldn't. Her friends presented a problem she couldn't solve and, as silly as it was, Adora just knew she couldn't sleep soundly if she couldn't check those empty spaces with her own eyes.

Morning couldn't be far, she reasoned. They'd all already stayed up so late. That'd been fun. But, surely, they'd wasted enough nighttime. Adora was on the heels of morning, she could just feel it.

Just a little longer until the day-moons rose.

Her fingers ached, the cold metal biting into the sensitive skin.