Being She-Ra

Adora twirled her sword experimentally. It was a little weird to spend so much time as She-Ra, all her proportions were different, even just walking took a bit of getting used it. Things flowed so much easier when she was in a fight.

She was spending a lot more time like this now, though. It had been a day before Queen Angella had pointed out the obvious. If she was going to be staying like this, there was no reason she couldn't do what she'd normally do.

That was why she was out here, on the fringes of the forest, sword in hand and staring down a handful of Horde robots.

She took a deep breath.

Nothing was different, she knew, but she still felt... naked under her clothes. Which technically was the same as always too, but the fact that she was only dressed because of the magic from her sword was never far from her mind.

Adora ran at the robots, leaping up into the air and bringing it down with a flash of light. Circuits exploded, electricity sparked, shards of metal fell onto scorched earth and she kept jumping from robot to robot.

You'd think the Horde would come up with a new model after she'd trashed so many.

That was when a length of cable shot out from one of the robots and grabbed her wrist. Adora cried out, tugging on it, jerking the sword to send a jolt of energy out at it, but it was too late to stop the cable pulling harder and flinging the sword out of her grip.

Maybe they did have new tricks.

It wasn't that she couldn't stay as She-Ra for a little time, even without holding the sword every second. Sometimes she threw it, or left it in the ground, or any number of small things that meant she wasn't in contact with it every second. It was harder, though, when she'd been shifted for so long. Exhausting.

As the sword spun through the air, Adora shone with blinding light and stumbled, her now-bare knees hitting the floor. Her eyes widened, and she quickly got back up to her feet, looking around the fray of scrambled pieces of metal, beginning to blush. She crossed one arm over her breasts, nervous even just of the eyes of the dead robots.

Where was her sword? It had to be somewhere here, surely.

God, naked in a junk pile, today couldn't get much worse.

Then she heard a familiar voice, as someone sauntered into view over the rubble, crouching curiously and picking up the discarded sword.

"Hey Adora," Catra said.