#griddlebeth

(or: sun and moon goddesses coronabeth and ianthe meet their new priestesses)

When Camilla learns that she will be one of this year’s tributes, she does not cry. She and Harrow stand apart, alone, separated from the rest of their village, and neither of them cry. Tonight, she and Harrow will say their goodbyes, and at first light, they will walk down to the beach, board this year’s ceremonial skiff, and row out to Ida, where they will spend the rest of their lives in service to their goddesses.

(or: gideon and corona spend the night with each other)

“Gideon, please. You know why I’ve come to you.” And Gideon does. They’re here to distract each other, if only for just the night. That’s it, and all it ever will be.

(or: everything finally spills over, and gideon lets coronabeth take care of her)

Gideon’s heat has never really been regular, and she’s never had anyone but Harrow to help take care of her, but she knows that it’s coming soon by the way her legs buckle when Camilla runs her fingers through her hair, and by how good Cor smells even after a grueling workout, and by how Harrow’s eyes narrow whenever someone edges just a bit too close to her, territorial.