Dear Diary,

"Agency, Consent, Actions

Freedom to make your choices,

This is about you, not me."

- Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Agency

Took me all day yesterday to decide that yeah, I'm going with poetry for my Holy Book. Lot of reasons why.

Some of it is tradition, or at least what I remember from tradition. Back in my old world, most of what people knew about the Norse Gods was from the Eddas, and one of those was basically just one big book of poetry. Shit, I read some parts of the Prose Edda, and even that was pretty fuckin' flowery. But neither of those were really 'Holy Books'. They were compilations of stories about the Norse Gods that had been recorded in oral traditions and runic illustrations. They weren't a 'here's how your God wants you to live'. Really I'm only familiar with one book like that, and given me being me means I'm gonna wind up talking about tiddies, vag, cock, and the intersection thereof at some point in here, and the only place I remember that topic being addressed positively in the Bible is Song of Solomon, which is all poetry.

That steps onto the next reason, which is that at some point if I write this shit down, somebody's gonna try to sing it. I cannot count the number of really shitty hymns I heard back in the day, which later turned out to be straight up quotes of shit that was never meant to be sung. Maybe if I keep it all poetic it'll give future hymn writers a little bit more to work with, so I don't wind up getting the urge to smite entire congregations because their hymns unto me make me want to drink paint thinner.

Of course, the real, deep reason is the nature of poetry. On one hand, a writing coach once told me that 'poetry is nothing but imagery dense prose'. Which, itself is just a tiny bit poetic, since it's not just images that come at you fast in poetry, it's also emotions and meaning and all other kinds of shit. I'm a fuckin' Goddess of Agency. Telling people exactly what to do, forcing them to live like little robots, is just not me. So not only will writing my Holy Book as poetry let me pack more book in my Book, because I heard my followers like books, it'll also leave room for interpretation. Fuck, if what I've heard from authors is right, they'll have interpretations I never thought of. So I gotta be careful about how I phrase things, maybe? I mean, I know I'm gonna fuck that up, but 'the curtains were blue' is just way too restrictive for me, 'the curtains were the color of the sky' is just a holy war waiting to happen with the whole fucking spectrum showing up in rainbows and shit, but 'the curtains were the color of a cloudless sky at midday' maybe leaves room for local interpretation without being so loosey goosey as to allow unwilling human sacrifice as a party game.

Spent yesterday thinking about how I want my Holy Book to be as well as Co-Locating specifically to make copies of the better romance novels on the Love Shack shelves. Then making copies of a couple of the shitty ones, because apparently local tastes aren't as refined as mine, which is not a phrase I ever thought I'd say, ever. Holy fucking shitballs on toast, I am become a Woman of Culture for reals. But yeah, Karen definitely wanted a copy of the one she'd 'read to help herself sleep', Saffron had a couple she liked, and even Marie had one. Okay, Marie wanted me to make copies of the 'instruction manual'. She likes stuff with a lot of pictures. I'm... I'm not sure she knows how to read? Fuck, why would she fuckin' need to? Does she even want to? I gotta have that conversation at some point, if only to keep myself from spiraling into guilt about keeping my Concubine barefoot and illiterate.

Yeah, I gotta do that before I get her pregnant, because she fucking lives in the blessed kitchen, and that's just too on the nose for even me. I mean, shit, Agency. If she makes it very clear to me that her self-envisioned ideal state is barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen making me sandwiches, I guess my job at that point is to enjoy shoving buns in her oven while nomming her sandwiches. But fuck me if that's not gonna be weird as shit.

We all returned to Lancaster House and snuggled up for bed. None of us were really feeling particularly randy, so we all just settled in to snooze. Okay, I felt Siobhan drag Marie off for a bit. Then Marie returned and she did the same to Saffron. A few moments after Saffron collapsed back into herself, her normal warm snuggle pile smile getting a little smugger, Ice Pop dragged me to stand over her where she lay at the foot of the Love Shack bed. Dripping with sweat and maybe not-sweat, reeking of Saffron and the sea, she lay a hand on her belly and smiled. "You need me to heal you?"

"Oh, no. Saffron took care of that. Although... after?"

"Holy shit, Ice Pop. Really?"

She gave me the world's sincerest and clumsiest sultry grin and said, "but I'm the junior Concubine! It's my rightful duty to please you all."

I stiffened and rolled my eyes a little. "Nobody. And I mean nobody, especially not me, is gonna force you to do anything you don't want to, especially anything sexual."

She nodded, then got my meaning and pouted maybe just a little, then shook her head and smiled. "This is all new and exciting to me, Tabitha. So intense, so joyous, so pleasurable. I... I've always been dutiful, and always felt sublime joy at fulfilling my duties, but..." she blushed a little, smiling up at me. "This is the first time fulfilling my duties comes with orgasms."

I chuckled. "Okay, okay. Siobhan." I drawled her name out, watching her eyes widen and her blush deepen. "Don't faint on me."

"Saffron says it's much less likely if I'm horizontal. I hope you don't mind?"

"You mind if I keep you awake other ways if I want you not horizontal?"

"Oh, no! Not overwhelming pleasure I can neither escape from nor become inured to! Whatever shall I do?" I laughed, and she made it worse, saying, "oh, yes, exactly what I did with Saffron a few minutes ago." At my raised eyebrow, she said, "scream your name."

I loomed over her just a little. "Okay, Ice Pop. I was ready for bed, but suddenly I've got some urges."

"A request, Goddess?" I paused. "What... what Saffron did to me the first time?"

"Which part?"

"Yes." I laughed, then Mimicked Saffron as she had been at the end of their first encounter. She swatted at me playfully, squealing, "as you! She's right, you are a Goof." I shifted back to my own basic shape and proportions, and her eyes got very kid in a candy store wide. "Oh, my. Yes. Please."

When we collapsed back to ourselves for the night and she snuggled a little to get comfortable, I murmured, "I've created a monster."

"Roar. Grr. Fear m..." She fell asleep as fast as she woke up.

In the morning, after I dried her off, Marie dressed Sister Siobhan in her Academy clothes. Before I even thought to ask, she announced, "I do have duties to the Academy, after all." Then a moment later, as she swayed next to herself in Glowing Midnight, do feel free to call on me if I'm required for... other duties. After she collapsed back into herself she looked a little abashed and said, "I'm... I'm not being too demanding, or forward, am I? I did, ah, initiate things last night. With, um, all three of you."

Saffron, Marie, and I looked at each other, and before we could all burst out laughing I said, "Ice Pop? The only reason I'm not declaring an all out crusade against your ability to walk around the Infirmary today, complete with sending you reeking so bad it'll give Trease an aneurysm from down the hall? Is because Kitten and Marie might get mad at me messing you up after they put all that work into getting you clean and just so."

"Oh, I think we'd be fine so long as the results were as blatantly disheveled as she is perfect now..."

"Yes."

"But I have a better suggestion."

I smiled at Kitten as she turned back to scrub my hair. "This I gotta hear."

"Telling her we are absolutely going to do that with no other warning than this on some unspecified future morning, absolutely including sending her about her day utterly ravished and disheveled, as well as with the certain knowledge that we will be picking up where we left off when we decide her duties are done for the day, and we'll be disappointed if she's not as ruined as we left her." She paused. "Goof?"

"Little distracted," I muttered.

She Grinned at me. "Want some help?"

"Please."

A few minutes later, as we climbed out of the tub to towel off, she looked at Siobhan and said, "you can go about your day if you like. Doing it now would ruin the anticipation."

"Oh. Oh, yes. But," her face fell a little as Marie snickered, "I wanted waffles."

I managed to get an entire half serving of waffles today, what with Saffron stealing half of Siobhan's rather than all of mine. Some tiny quickly extinguished spark of jealousy tried to form, but let's face it, I not only got to watch Saffron's sweet tooth bliss with someone else doing the work, I got half a serving of Lancaster House waffles. Zero down side. Jealousy is stupid.

After breakfast, before I left for the day, as the staff cleared the table, Bonnie caught my intention and summoned me over with an imperious finger pointed at the seat next to her. Her house, her endless supply of waffles both for nomming and for Kitten pleasing purposes, so I walked over and sat myself down. I'm a dumbass, not an idiot.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"So. Fiancé?"

I held out my left hand, presenting my silvery-white ring and it's brilliant white stone. "Yeah. Marie asked me."

"Kinda forward for a Concubine?"

Somehow her question didn't set me off. Like she wasn't judging, but definitely knew most of society might. So I just shrugged. "Yeah. I wasn't too jazzed about the whole 'Concubine' title anyhow, but she insisted. Been meaning to wife her for a while now. But we've been taking our time with it. Enjoying every step."

She smiled. "I can understand that. I have no regrets at all about any part of our whirlwind wedding, but I do understand your desire to... savor things."

"No regrets about getting pregnant so quick?"

She blinked. "Why would I regret that?"

"I mean, you didn't exactly have years together to, uh, practice the whole process."

She grinned, batted her eyes with a glance at Larry, who'd tuned us out the moment we started talking about engagements and rings, and said, "whatever makes you think we've stopped practicing?"

I snorted out a laugh at that, maybe blushing just a little at exactly how clearly her look at him spoke to how vigorously they'd practiced. "Okay, yeah, but what about after littlest Lancaster arrives?"

She shrugged. "We'll have a nanny and wet nurse. A whole team of Maenads for both, thank you very much for that, no sarcasm intended." She got a bit of a faraway look. "I suppose I might need to cut into my House management time in order to be a proper mother to the little one. Saffron tells me nursing properly helps them stop aching?"

"Honestly I got no idea. Shapeshifting into milky tits doesn't have the same side effects as doing the actual nursing. But I think I heard her mention it, yeah. So," I took a sip from a glass somebody'd left. "Any thoughts on getting a Maenad Concubine of your very own?"

"Tabitha! Larry has never shown the slightest interest! He has a whole building full of potential partners if such a thing came up, anyhow."

I'd been mostly joking, but I'm not the kind of woman to let a joke lie when my partner feeds into it. Especially when Larry's head twitched when I mentioned him getting busy with a Maenad. "Oh, hey, I've heard like, right after birth that shit can be really painful, so having somebody to keep your Clydesdale's form good by giving him his daily ride while you're out of action could be handy, but I'd really meant for, y'know, days when he's out of action. Off reviewing the farmsteads? On campaign, although hopefully that won't happen any time soon. In one of the other Cities doing political shit?" Bonnie's head had started to tilt into that 'I never thought of it that way' position, but Larry kept twitching every time I added another bit of weight to my absolutely intended as a joke argument. So of course I had to ramp it up a notch. "Hell, you guys are rich. Get yourself two. One to keep you company, another to keep him in shape while he's away. Not to mention keeping any skanky vajayjays from trying to breed their own Fitz-Lancasters." Her look had gone from 'pondering' to 'maybe dumbass has a point', and Larry had lost his struggle to stay detached from the Girl Talk and was just trying not to stare at me. "Then there's the whole question of getting old. Happens to everybody eventually. He might not last as long, hell might not even be able to get it up reliably without serious help." I waggled my eyebrows as I said, "Lemme tell ya, those ladies have Skills. The absolute top end serious help you could ever want in terms of Marital Aids. Turns 'I'm sorry, love, my soldier will not stand to attention' straight up into 'ready to campaign, ma'am'. Not to mention, y'know, being really fuckin' good at, uh, battlefield support. Reinforcements. I'd say 'cavalry', but that's pretty much you, right? So I guess they'd be your infantry, the Volunteers supporting you?"

"TABITHA!" Larry's voice squeaked as he tried to strangle his own involuntary shout. "How could you of all people suggest such a thing?"

Ladies, I think Bonnie would like to see your rings. Siobhan? If you could join us for some gossipy Girl Time maybe? As they arrived around me, I said, "what? Being Poly? Or getting it on with a girl?" I grinned at Larry, "I mean, I thought you liked that, but," I turned to Bonnie. "Lemme tell you, it's," I did the little fingertip kiss. "Mwah! Perfect."

I... had maybe forgotten about Bonnie's reaction to my joke on her wedding day. She leaned one elbow on the table, chin in her palm, and batted her eyelashes at him as he worked his mouth like a fish, trying to come up with something that wouldn't offend me. "Are you telling me you'd deny me, husband?" When his face almost firmed up she caught him again with, "deny me a treat I totally intend to share you with... I mean share with you?"

I couldn't leave my man to the coronary his wife was clearly about to provoke. "Aw, cut him some slack, Bonnie. You know Larry's totally besotted with you. Dotes on you." I looked at him. "As is right and good. My adoptive mother Sigyn agrees." He looked a little less offended. "Seriously, man, if you two wanna duo queue until you die, I'm fully behind you. If you wanna populate the entire Ladies' Quarters with women who of their own volition can't get enough of that luscious Lancaster Lovin', I'm down for that too. Just so long as everybody's happy and there of their own free will."

At that point Bonnie couldn't keep a straight face any more, and started laughing along with Saffron and Marie. She also pulled Larry and planted his head in her ever expanding pre-baby cleavage for a hug, where she took obvious absolute delight in stroking his hair while humming to him. I realized right then that maybe part of the reason he and I clashed at first, and maybe also got along eventually, was a certain commonality in outlook as regards certain body parts. Okay, probably not, but yeah, I'd totally stop stirring up or reacting to shit if Saffron...

Right then she removed my ability speculate on shit by mirroring Bonnie. The other ladies went on about rings and dates and venues and all kinds of other shit that would have had me breaking out in hives a year ago. I think somehow Bonnie and Larry's wedding had inoculated me, because some part of me looked forward to marrying Marie. Like, not even the wedding night, either. I mean, I absolutely looked forward to that, especially what with that maybe happening in our own house, but I wanted that tux. I wanted her in that dress. I wanted Saffron in that dress too, but she'd been very clear about our upcoming Marie nuptials being all about Murder Mittens getting to be the bridest bride to ever bride. Seeing Saffron in my tux wasn't a bad consolation prize, I guess. I definitely wanted to watch my Maenad's reaction as we slipped those rings on her finger. My intent at this point was, at the 'kiss the bride' moment, to dip her and kiss her and hand her over to my Kitten to continue kissing. Totally a leverage thing, since I'm taller. Not me needing to taste tiger wifey lips first.

But all that shit, me thinking about not just future plans, but future plans about a whole big ceremony and shit? Was something I would have run screaming from last Equinox.

Shit, maybe I was growing up.

Once we broke for the day, I settled in to work on another verse of my Holy Writ. I'm taking it slow, just a few lines a day. I get that some people do just a bajillion words and then go back to edit them later, but something about that just doesn't work for me. Instead I'm just gonna get a little bit as right as I can every day, and then work forward from there. Maybe when I get the whole thing done I'll do a final editing pass to make sure I didn't, like, use the same phrase sixteen times by accident or something. On purpose, sure, but not by accident.

Also, I might talk a little about the fun part of begatting, and probably some about, y'know, kids, but I'm not fucking around with genealogy or history. Not my thing, I don't know any of that really well, and I'm just gonna let other people tell the story of how I got here for themselves. Been there, done that, don't want to remember all of it. Kinda want to forget the parts people go gaga over the most.

Once I finished my writing for the day, I gave Kitten a kiss on the forehead before leaving, which she turned into a thorough tongue based dental inspection, much to my delight. Then I hopped back to the Love Shack and spent the day Co-Locating to make more copies of the requested books. Near the end of the day I hopped back to Lancaster House, dug out my old tinker backpack, duped that a couple times and loaded it with books, then loaded them up and stepped them over to the ruined Temple.

Karen stood there in the middle of a cleared space, with a mix of Maenads and big beefy looking guys clearing out rubble and assorted wrecked furnishings. When she saw me she sighed in relief. "Thank you for coming, Goddess." Then she saw the packs I'd dropped before collapsing into one of me and her face lit up. "Are those the books?"

"The... ah... personal library ones. The Holy Writ isn't done yet. I'm working on it."

She nodded. "I had some questions?"

You realize you could have asked earlier?

I didn't want to disturb your meditations upon your Doctrines.

"Okay, important thing going forward, if there's any kind of emergency, or even just something time critical you want my advice on? You ask me." I chuckled a little. "Half the time I use that shit to poke Saffron with random horny thoughts."

She smiled at me. "Not Holy Consort Marie?"

I thought about that for a second before realizing that she was, absolutely, the Consort of two outright Deities, so it kinda fit. Fuck it, Special Titles for Murder Mittens are A-Okay by me. "Nah. Where do you think I get at least half of the horny thoughts from?"

Her smile turned into a giggle, then disappeared. "I'm sorry, my goddess, but I do need to know. What shall we do with the bodies?"

I froze. "We... I..." Tears threatened, but I wouldn't, couldn't be distracted by my own pain right now. "We didn't get everyone out?"

Karen shook her head. "No, Goddess. Every living person in the Temple escaped its destruction, but... we found bodies in some of the cells. Old ones. Dead for... years, some of them, I think."

"Bodies... Were... Were there catacombs or something? Those are things that get put in Temples, right?"

Karen shook her head. "No, Goddess. At least not that we can tell. There were no signs of burial rites. Just... bodies, locked in cells."

I closed my eyes and took a deep, centering breath. I counted to ten. Then twenty. Smoke tickled my nose, and I opened my eyes. "Find their people if you can, and ask how they'd like them buried. For any we can't... see if the Maenads can figure out who they were, if their Souls are still hanging around. If not... Lemme ask around. But... pick a spot. Somewhere in the foundations. Maybe somewhere out back. Shit, I'll tell Conrad to pick a spot. If we can't find them, or take them home? We'll bury them here. In the Temple, or nearby. With full rites. It's the least we can do."

"What Rites, My Goddess?"

I barked out something that could almost be mistaken for a laugh. "Shit, I gotta figure that out too, don't I?' At her nod, I said, "Just another thing on my to-do list. I'll figure something out. But unless we find out that somebody deserved to..." I ground my teeth as more of the rock under my feet burned away. "Deserved to die alone in a box? We take care of them."

"Yes, Goddess."

Another deep, cleansing breath that tasted of stone, and I waved to the packs. "I guess let the Maenads and workers have first pick?"

"The workers and Maenads have been paid already. At least enough to cover the cleanup, if not the rebuilding."

"Who... did we get some tithes or something?"

She shook her head. "The Clergy of Art... Diana sent over a sizeable donation to 'assist with our recovery'. Several others did so as well after that, although I suspect they were prompted more by trying to keep parity with Diana's Priestesses than out of any spirit of camaraderie or generosity."

I nodded. "Cool, I gotta thank Diana when I see her next. For the rest? Fuck 'em, our money now."

"Ah... literally, or?"

I laughed and pulled her into a hug. "Thanks, Karen. I needed that. Tell you what, it's up to you. You wanna snub 'em because they're acting like dicks? Snub away. You wanna play nice because they're genuinely being nice? I'm cool with that too. You wanna get your horizontal mambo on with one of them because they press your buttons in just the right ways? You have my explicit permission to use their donation as an excuse." I looked at the packs. "Hell, take them one of the books, or even better one of the instruction manuals. Tell 'em you want to test it out or some shit. Oughta work. You're pretty hot, that dress is smokin', and horny guys are dumb."

She chuckled as she reached reverently into the first pack and pulled out a copy of the book she'd read. She flipped it open, fanning to a page mid-book, then froze. "Ah, Goddess?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll certainly still give these out as tithe gifts, and I'm certain they'll be appreciated, especially by those with no reading material in the first place, but..."

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "What's wrong?"

"Most literate people in Phileo read Celtic."