Work Text:
Take a brick. Spread the cement. Place the brick. Fit it into position. Clean off the excess cement. Repeat.
Building walls is a rather monotonous task—though Hordak couldn’t complain; it wasn’t so bad. At the very least, it was considerably better than anything he himself would have done to his prisoners during his days commanding the Horde.
Hordak paused to wipe the sweat trickling down his forehead before resuming his work.
Or at least, that had been his intention—until something suddenly happened.
“Well, look at you,” sneered a voice behind him.
Hordak’s eyes snapped open, his pale skin prickling.
Something primal seized him—his first instinct was to grab one of the bricks he had been working with and hurl it toward the voice with all the strength his bony arm could muster.
Catra’s hair stood on end as the brick whizzed past her head and crashed into the wall beside her, shattering on impact.
“Eeek!” she squealed. “Hey! What the heck, dude?!”
Bright Moon guards surrounded Hordak in an instant, pointing their staffs at him.
“Stay away from me!” he bellowed.
Hordak turned around and resumed his work.
“Well, someone’s in a bad mood today, huh?” Catra asked.
“Get out of my sight!” Hordak insisted.
“What’s your problem? Are you mad because your little conquest fell apart?”
Hordak did not respond. He simply placed a brick firmly and applied cement to it with more force than necessary.
“Just so you know, I hold a few grudges against you too. But at least I’m trying to be… better, or whatever,” Catra said, waving her hand dismissively. “But you still seem to be the same old Hordak.”
Hordak couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.
“You say you’re trying to improve, and yet you come here to mock me,” he muttered. “It’s ironic.”
“Hey!” Catra retorted. “I didn’t come here for that! I just came to see how you were doing. I wouldn’t even be here if Adora hadn’t asked me to.”
Hordak froze for a moment, another brick in his hand. After a split second, he set it against the wall and continued working.
“She asked you to see me?” he said. “Why?”
Catra rubbed the back of her neck, lowering her gaze slightly.
“She’s a little worried about you, especially after I told her what Horde Prime did to you,” she explained, a hint of apprehension in her voice. “She just wanted to know how you’re doing… that your brain hasn’t fried or something.”
“Hm. I see,” Hordak said. “She was always a sensitive girl—always looking out for others, always worrying about everyone. I should have known she would desert the Horde.”
“Do you regret keeping her as a baby?” Catra asked.
“I would never have let a baby starve to death,” Hordak replied. “I never considered myself that evil.”
“So, if you could go back in time and change your decision, you wouldn’t? Even knowing that it was because of that decision that the Horde was ultimately defeated?”
“No, I wouldn’t change it… it was for the best,” Hordak admitted. “If I could go back in time, I would never have created the Horde in the first place.”
“Really?” Catra asked, tilting her head. “Wasn’t it… your life’s purpose or something?”
“My ‘life’s purpose’ was to serve Horde Prime,” Hordak corrected. “And he, kindly enough, released me from it. He doesn’t even exist anymore, and I am glad.”
“If the Horde and everything it meant means nothing to you anymore, then… why are you so angry with me?”
“Why?! Because you betrayed me—you betrayed us!” Hordak retorted. “I will never forgive you for that!”
“But didn’t you just say the Horde didn’t matter to you anymore?! Besides, Horde Prime was the first to betray you, and we helped defeat him!” Catra shot back.
Hordak straightened and turned to meet Catra’s gaze.
“You think that’s the reason for my anger?” he asked. “You don’t understand, do you? You made me believe that Entrapta had betrayed me, and you sent her to Beast Island!”
The guards beside Hordak tensed, unable to stop themselves from shifting nervously. One rubbed the back of his neck; another tugged at his collar, swallowing hard.
“I—… I didn’t remember… that,” Catra trailed off.
“You didn’t remember?!” Hordak exploded, squeezing the brick in his hand hard enough to shatter it.
“Hey, look…” Catra pinched the bridge of her nose, raising her hand in a half-hearted gesture of appeasement. “After Horde Prime captured me, a lot of things happened, you know? I had to work with Entrapta and the others… and she forgave me. For everything.”
Hordak managed to swallow his anger—drawing in a heavy sigh—then turned around and knelt to continue working on the wall, now slightly regretting having wasted two perfectly good bricks.
“Of course she forgave you,” Hordak said without looking at her. “Entrapta is… she’s special,” he confessed. “She made me feel… valuable—she made me feel like there was something valuable about myself.”
Hordak carefully placed a brick in position before slowly covering it with cement. Suddenly, something seemed to stop his hand.
“But I’m not like that—I’m not like her,” he growled. “I can’t forgive you that easily. You… you made me believe I’d lost the only good thing that ever happened to me.”
Catra looked at him for a moment, a small lump of guilt forming in her throat. She found herself unable to look at Hordak, even from behind—until, finally, she composed herself enough to speak again.
“I never stopped to think about it,” Catra admitted. “I confess, I never saw you as someone… sentimental—although, during the time we worked together, I think it’s safe to say we both saw all that feelings nonsense as… weakness.”
“Yes… that is true,” Hordak agreed.
“What I’m getting at is…” Catra continued. “Back then, I clung to the idea that in the Horde, ‘friendship’ wasn’t really… a thing. I was in a bad place—you and I—but I was worse than ever at that time, and you… you started down a different path… you found something I could have had forever, if only I hadn’t been so…”
Hordak glanced up for a moment. He looked back—and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when his gaze met Catra’s.
Neither of them spoke during that brief moment, so Hordak simply turned forward again and went back to his work.
“Why are you still here?” Hordak asked, a subtle hint of disdain in his voice—and another of impatience. “You can tell your girlfriend that I am fine. There is nothing left of Horde Prime in me, and all my memories have returned… or at least I think so. At least I know the important ones are here.”
“Yeah…” Catra sighed, scratching the back of her head. “I guess that’s true. I’ll leave you alone.”
Catra turned and began to walk away, but something stopped her.
She inhaled deeply—her shoulders stiffened—and she quickly turned back. As Hordak heard her approaching again, he couldn’t help but discreetly roll his eyes.
“Sorry,” Catra blurted out.
Hordak’s eyes widened at the sound of that word.
“I’m so sorry I did that back then. I admit it’s hard… and awkward for me to apologize to you, and that’s why I never thought about it. Look, I’m going to be honest, okay? I don’t like you at all—but you didn’t deserve that. I see that now. And I really didn’t think any of it through. I didn’t mean to—because I am fine now, and I thought you could handle it since you have Entrapta and… I guess I’m still a little selfish,” Catra confessed.
“I will admit… I never thought I’d hear you apologize. You never apologized to anyone while you were in the Horde,” Hordak remarked.
“So what? You don’t forgive me?” Catra said, crossing her arms. “I don’t care. I only said it because I want to be a better person. Love changes you—makes you better—and I don’t want to hear a word about how cheesy that sounds! I know!”
Hordak had to hide his smile.
“That… isn’t something you learn alongside Horde Prime… or in the Fright Zone,” he said, a hint of humor in his voice. “But you do learn it from princesses. They love those moral lessons,” he teased.
“Heh… yeah, they really do,” Catra agreed.
Once their quiet laughter faded, they both grew serious again, and Hordak let out a heavy sigh.
“Entrapta would want me to forgive you… and I would want to be who Entrapta believes I can be,” Hordak said. “But if I accepted your apology now, I don’t know if I would truly be that person—because I don’t feel it, as princesses often say. Maybe one day I will.”
“That’s… fair enough,” Catra agreed as she began to walk away. “See you later, Hordak. Or… maybe not. I don’t know.”
Hordak nodded once, not really sure if Catra saw him.
Hordak continued repairing the wall until he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Weren’t you leaving already?” he asked, turning around, slightly annoyed.
His eyes widened as he realized the face in front of him wasn’t Catra.
“Hi, Hordak!” said the purple-haired princess. “I thought you might be thirsty and a little hungry, so I brought you a fizzy drink and a tiny snack,” she added cheerfully, handing him a bottle of pink, bubbly liquid and a small pastry shaped like a piglet.
“Hello, Entrapta,” he said, unable to hide his smile. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yes, me too! Now eat,” Entrapta said cheerfully as she pushed the small pastry into Hordak’s mouth and placed the bottle in his hand. “So, tell me, how is serving your sentence going? The guards haven’t been too mean to you, have they?”
“They haven’t,” Hordak said.
“And how much longer do you have left? A couple of months? A year, at most?” Entrapta asked innocently—and rather optimistically.
“I… err…” Hordak stammered. “I doubt there’s so little time left, Entrapta.”
The glint in Entrapta’s eyes seemed to fade.
“O-oh… I see…” she said sadly.
“I’m sorry, but according to Queen Glimmer, I have to help repair all the damage the war caused,” Hordak explained.
Entrapta lowered her gaze and rubbed her forearm—her expression distant.
“I… I understand,” Entrapta said softly. “It’s just that… well… I miss having my lab partner around,” she added, trying to sound more cheerful.
Entrapta forced a warm smile for Hordak, and he did the same.
“Me too…” he said quietly.
“But don’t worry, I promise I’ll keep visiting you often!” Entrapta assured him happily. “And I’ll keep bringing you little snacks!”
“That’s very kind of you, Entrapta,” Hordak said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “But if you spend so much time here with me, you won’t be able to make progress on your experiments. Your place is in your lab on Dryl, not here, feeding a prisoner.”
“But it’s boring being in that old lab all by myself!” Entrapta pouted. “Especially since Adora took Darla because she’s training her to go on space adventures, and… well, I’ll have to say goodbye for a while.”
“Why don’t you go with them?” Hordak suggested.
“What?! No, of course not!” Entrapta exclaimed, her hands flailing frantically. “I mean, it’s not that I wouldn’t like to go—it sounds fun and all, I admit—but if I went… you’d be left here all alone, and I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself knowing my friend would miss me!”
Entrapta stopped abruptly. She hunched her shoulders slightly, her index fingers touching.
“You… you’d miss me, wouldn’t you?” she asked.
Hordak smiled again and lowered his gaze.
“Every day,” Hordak murmured.
“Awww! Hordak!” Entrapta squealed, and Hordak blushed faintly. “That’s why I can’t leave! And I’d miss you a lot too…” she claimed as she scooped Hordak's thin cheeks.
“Even so, I don’t think you should be spending so much time here with me,” Hordak said, gently removing Entrapta’s hands from his cheeks—though he continued holding them without even realizing it. “Don’t the other princesses need you at all?”
“I highly doubt it,” Entrapta replied. “Now that the war is over, they’re all focused on rebuilding their kingdoms.”
“And that robot? What was her name again? Emily. Doesn’t she miss you?” Hordak asked.
“Emily’s all grown up,” Entrapta assured him. “Besides, while I was on Beast Island, she got quite attached to Scorpia, and they spend a lot of time together.”
“I see,” Hordak said, tilting his head, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Entrapta sensed something was wrong and squeezed Hordak’s hands, just a little.
“Hordak, why are you so insistent on this?” she asked suddenly. “Does it bother you that I visit or something?” she added, concerned.
Hordak’s eyes widened.
“No, of course not!” he exclaimed in a panic. “But… it’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” Entrapta insisted.
Hordak lowered his head slightly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Have you noticed the wall I’m repairing?” he asked.
“Not really,” Entrapta said, shaking her head vigorously. “Why? What’s so special about it?”
“Look at it closely—examine the rubble carefully. Tell me, what do you see?”
Entrapta did as he asked. She examined the rubble closely. Several sections had been demolished so a new wall could be built.
“They appear to have burn marks,” she said analytically. “It looks like it was destroyed with some kind of thermal weapon—a very powerful one.”
“That is correct,” Hordak said. “This house, and several others around it… I was the one who destroyed them.”
Entrapta’s back tensed slightly, her eyes widening as she scanned her surroundings, finally realizing where she truly was.
This place had once been a small village. Now it was a battlefield. Dozens upon dozens of houses lay scattered around them, their walls cratered or reduced to rubble.
“Did you… do this?” Entrapta asked.
“Yes…” Hordak lamented. “I don’t know who lived in this house, but they probably hate me—and they have every right to.”
“Hordak, don’t say that,” Entrapta said, rushing forward and placing her hands on his shoulders. “I know you did… very… bad things,” she trailed off.
“Terrible,” Hordak corrected. “I did terrible, awful things—unforgivable crimes.”
“That doesn’t matter!” Entrapta cried. “I know what you did. But that’s in the past now—you’ve changed! I saw you change! I was able to start over—to do things right in the end—and so were Catra, Scorpia, and even Shadow Weaver… sort of,” she added, making a so-so gesture. “The point is, if we were able to leave all of that behind—so can you!”
“It is a nice thought,” Hordak nodded. “That is the kind of thought that makes me believe that someday I will be free of… all that I have done. All my mistakes. But until that happens, to the world, this is what I am—all of this,” he said, gesturing to the ruins surrounding them.
“That’s not fair!” Entrapta cried. “I was able to be forgiven by the others—why can’t they forgive you too?”
“You did not start a war, Entrapta,” Hordak said.
“You grew up in war!” Entrapta retorted. “You knew nothing else!”
Then she stepped back and looked away.
“Besides, I didn’t start the war, sure—but I helped win it… The robots I built… they were just a game to me,” Entrapta confessed. “Being able to experiment with the Fright Zone’s technology was… a lot of fun. But without realizing it, I helped hurt my friends. I never really thought about it… sometimes I’m so dumb.”
Hordak stepped forward. “You are not—!” he began, but one of Entrapta’s strands of hair gently covered his lips like a finger.
“I know you don’t like me saying that about myself—you’re so sweet, Hordak—but you can’t deny the facts. I made weapons for the Horde—weapons that were used to hurt people I cared about. And I didn’t realize that until they told me themselves. My point is, I really do know how you feel. In fact, I think that, apart from Catra, I’m the one who understands you best.”
Hordak couldn’t help but smile at that statement.
“It seems that, no matter what I say or do, you’re not going to abandon me,” Hordak said warmly. “You didn’t, even when Horde Prime tried to tear you away from me.”
“Not a chance,” Entrapta said, puffing out her chest. “So you’d better get used to seeing me every day, got it?”
“Heh… it’s going to be boring waiting for you in the meantime,” Hordak joked. “This ‘community service’ sentence is quite monotonous.”
“Don’t worry,” Entrapta said. “I’ll give you an incentive. Every time I come to visit you, I’m going to bring you a present.”
“I will take a guess: tiny snacks and fizzy drinks?”
“No, silly, something better,” Entrapta laughed. “Or at least, I hope so,” she added nervously, blushing slightly.
Entrapta stepped forward and, once again, gently cupped Hordak’s cheeks. She used her hair to lift herself up, bringing her face level with his.
She took a breath—her face burning—and, in a final, determined motion, she pressed a kiss to Hordak’s lips.
The guards’ jaws dropped in unison.
Hordak was completely stunned—at least for a split second. Then he felt the warmth of Entrapta’s lips, their softness. He caught that familiar scent of hers—not perfume, certainly—more like oil and electricity.
Perhaps it wasn’t the sweetest or most romantic aroma, but it was familiar. It was hers.
He allowed himself to close his eyes and surrender to the moment.
He felt the urge to find Entrapta’s hands with his own—he felt the warmth of her fingers through her work gloves.
When Entrapta pulled away, Hordak felt an immediate sense of longing.
It had been so brief. So fleeting.
He had never experienced such an intense—yet wonderful—feeling. He could still feel his heart racing.
When Entrapta stepped back, her face was as red as a tomato, a wide, goofy grin spreading across her lips.
“I, uh… I hope that was okay!” she said, yelling it for some reason. “It was my first kiss too, so don’t worry!”
“Entrapta… I… yes…” Hordak stammered.
“A-anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, Hordak!” she said, trotting happily away and waving energetically.
Hordak could only manage a small wave in return.
“I will… be waiting, Entrapta,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.
Then, suddenly, something came over him—a feeling of elation he hadn’t thought himself capable of experiencing.
A broad, genuine smile spread across his face. He turned and happily went back to repairing the wall.
Take a brick. Spread the cement. Place the brick. Fit it into position. Clean off the excess cement. Repeat.
Yes—it wasn’t so bad once you got used to it.
And Hordak still had plenty of walls to rebuild.
FIN