#he should be screaming 'tell me it's inevitable that i'd end up with scars' at the club i think

[botanycrewmember]

RIP Tan Yuanchun, first disciple of Qi Fengge, you would have loved the Crane Wives

[ohtobeleah]

Something that goes without saying is how uncertain Logan really is about sleeping in the same space as another person. Sure, he'll commit to the fun beforehand….The foreplay, the sex, the highs.

But the inevitable act of sleeping beside someone, terrifies him.

We see it in Origin, we see it in Days of Future Past. Sometimes while Logan is sleeping, his claws come out when he feels under duress. Nightmares are a common occurrence for this man, not a night goes by where he isn't waking in the dead of night to the ghost of his past.

And I'd like to think of all the Logans running around the multiverse, that the Worst!Logan has surely been through some things. He's never experienced true rest. Not until he met you.

“I'll sleep on the couch.” Its common at the beginning of whatever the dynamic between the two of you is. Logan ends up back at your cafe, or in your living-room, bathroom, kitchen or bed—but he never stays beside you for longer than a few minutes after. Not because he doesn't crave that intimacy or true human connection, but because the idea of losing you to his own mutation truly scares the ever-living fuck out of him.

But one night, you catch him off-guard. So off guard that Logan doesn't even have a counter proposal ready.

“Ill join you,” You beam, padding down the hallway with your blanket and pillow wrapped in your arms. “Somethings bothing you and with friends like me and Wade, that shits gonna come up eventually,” You ramble. As you sit beside Logan on the lounge he slept on more often than his own bed, he catches a glimpse of a few noticeable scars on your back. Scars where his claws had once accidentally taken over in an otherwise romantic moment between the two of you. “So, get talking pops.”

“Don't call me pops.” Logan sighs as he opens his body up for you to snuggle up against him. “It's nothing I can't handle, didn't anyone ever tell you not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?”

“Are you trying to tell me that I don't belong here?” You counter quickly, playing Logan’s logic against himself. “Me? Resident of this timeline? Doesn't belong right here next to you?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Logan smiles all the while trying to keep his brooding man mask on. But with you he feels ever atom of his being igniting with desire and unconditional love. “I worry I'll hurt you, while I'm sleeping,” Logan explains as you listen to his heartbeat inside his chest. Snuggled on the lounge in your apartment. “You don't know how much that thought terrifies me.”

“Hmm,” You hum in response. “Perhaps the question you should be asking yourself Lo, is what if the nightmares, what if the fear stops, when you allow yourself to rest with someone you love?” It was a bold word to use, and even though it was rarely, if ever used, there wasn't another word in the English language to describe how Logan felt about you. Or how you felt about him.

And its a thought that's never crossed Logans mind before. He frowns, thinking it over in the late-night silence. You fall asleep there, right with your head on Logans chest as he tru thinks.

Only to wake up in a tangled mess of sheets, with Logan snorning next to you as the early morning sun kisses his golden, aging skin. Its the first night in years he hasn't woken in screaming terror.

“Tell me told you so and I'll turn you into a skewer.” Logan mumbles as you pepper him with kisses across his exposed back.

“I think I'll take my chances with you, Lo,” You chuckle to yourself. “I'll make you some coffee.”

@a-reader-and-a-writer Canon Ilya universe content

Ilya

[awhiskeyriver]

PSST AMELIA (i have hit the level of comfort where i feel i can scream at you, oop) TELL ME UR BETTY THOUGHTS.... also me too, i really wanna write stories based of Taylor's songs all the time. there's a whole subset of tumblr ask game called like, taylor universes, where we personify songs and on God it's my favorite (i wish i had more swifties in my ranks or i'd host one)

LOL, you can always scream at me! Oh man, that sounds seriously so fun! I would love to personify one of her (or all of her, lol) songs and turn them into stories. She has such a vivid way of writing music it begs to be seen in story form, lol.

Okay so....you may regret asking me for my Folklore thoughts, LOL. This is long and it might make absolutely no sense to anyone other than me but I hope that’s not the case!

Obviously **I know this isn’t true and wasn’t Taylor’s point at all** I’m just a writer and things spin out of control in my head and...yeah...basically this is how I’ve managed to link (almost) all of the songs in Folklore together into one story line of James/Betty/August.

The story begins with in the song Betty, towards the end of Junior year, at the prom.

//I know where it all went wrong, your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym. I was nowhere to be found, I hate the crowds, you know that. Plus, I saw you dance with him.//

I think James has anxiety of some sort [more to come on that later] and in my mind, Betty is more charismatic, maybe even casually popular not in the core group of popular girls but very well-liked and known around the school. Editor of the school paper, ran for student president, etc. Meanwhile James is more low-key, out of the limelight, and the idea of being in such a large crowd dancing gave him anxiety which is why he said no. Seeing her dancing with someone else (even innocently), made him feel worse about himself and his insecurities as well as a little mad at her for not standing with him, but choosing to go dance with friends [‘him’] instead. 

So, he left the dance early [walking home on broken cobblestones] when August sees him [when she pulled up like a figment of my worst intention. She said, James get in let’s drive. Those days turned into nights. Slept next to her but I dreamt of you all summer long.]

Personally, I think James only officially cheated on Betty once. The night of the dance with August. August is a more overtly popular; more obvious beauty that is noticed by many boys, maybe a cheerleader, etc. Many people think this popularity instantly equates with happiness, but she’s not happy, actually suffers from self esteem issues and the pressure to conform [Mirrorball: I can change everything about me to fit in]. But James doesn’t ‘oogle’ her or treat her the way typical guys she dates or fucks do, so she’s attracted to him. They kind of bring out this excitement in each other that Betty and the other guys in August’s life don’t. [Mirrorball: I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight. I’ll get you out on the floor- August can pull James out of his shell in ways that Betty can’t]. This is maybe a more “obvious” song link to make, but also how in Mirrorball it’s talked about “spinning in my highest heels love, shining just for you.” And in Cardigan, when Betty is describing August “high heels on cobblestones.” 

ANYWAYS. James feels mad guilty about what happened between August and him, swears her to secrecy, but the weight of the secret weighs on him. At the end of the year, he tells Betty he thinks they should take a break over the summer, so they do. August and James continue to talk, first through platforms like Instagram, commenting on a photo or story, then it turns into constant talking, to texting, to hanging out and inevitably having more sex. For James, it’s a vice of sorts. He feels guilty, he wants to forget that feeling meanwhile August is starting to develop Feelings™. [entire song of August, obviously, but lines like “you were never mine.// your back beneath the sun, wishing I could write my name on it. ] To her, James is also developing feelings for her and wants to be with her. [I remember thinking I had you. Wanting was enough, for me it was enough.] But as the summer starts to end, things become more squirrely between the two of them, and the feeling of being James’ side piece starts to sink in more, and the more she begins to lose him, the more desperate she is to hold onto him. [August: cancel plans just in case you call and say meet me behind the mall. Illicit Affairs: Leave the perfume on the shelf that you picked out just for him so you leave no trace behind, like you don’t even exist.// A drug that only worked the first few hundred times.// what started in beautiful rooms ends in meeting in parking lots.]

It comes to a head at the end of (the month of) August, as summer is ending and the new school year is approaching when James tells August he wants to get back together with Betty and what happened between them meant nothing to him. [Betty: Slept next to her but I dreamt of you all summer long.] August is rightfully hurt, embarrassed and angry [Illicit Affairs: Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. You showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else. Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else.// And you know damn well, for you I would ruin myself a million little times. Peace: All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret. Mirrorball: When I break it’s in a million pieces.]

So, senior year begins. Betty and James gets back together. August goes back to the way she was previous to her summer with James, but truly she is broken. Can’t even look at him. The guilt and stress of August is still eating at James, but he’s trying to forge ahead with Betty and the two of them grow stronger and closer throughout the first part of the school year. August’s friend, Inez, obviously notices her downfall, but August continues to allude to “the guy she met over the summer” without saying names. One drunken night, she slips and says James, and Inez being the gossip she is is like w h a t. [Peace: Your integrity makes me seem small.// I talk with shit with my friends, it’s like I’m wasting your honor.// And you know that I’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches. Give you my wild, give you a child.// Give you my sunshine, give you my best. But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me.] August forgets about the conversation [she was drunk], but Inez doesn’t and can’t help herself but go to Betty and tell the rumor she heard about James fucking August. Betty, being a newspaper editor, doesn’t believe her without gathering up facts. But as she’s piecing things together, Inez’s story begins to make sense. She confronts James about it, who reluctantly admits to everything.

Betty, of course is devastated and heartbroken. The boy she trusted the most, her first love, wasn’t at all who she thought he was. [Cardigan: you drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding.] And the fact that he didn’t just come clean and tell her after the first time, but continued to cover it up (and keep seeing August) is unforgivable. [Cardigan: tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy--Betty is ready to grow up, think about college, think about life, meanwhile James is clinging to the excuse that he is ‘only seventeen’ [(Betty) Would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing?], refusing to grow up and own his mistakes. 

Betty breaks things off with James. James hates August thinking she did it on purpose. Betty hates them both. August kind of does too.

[August- Mad Woman: Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy and when you say I get angry, I get more angry.]

[Betty- Cardigan: A friend to all is a friend to none, chase two girls lose the one.//When you are young they assume you know nothing.] 

After months of being broken up, James is still not over Betty and tries one last time to win her back at her graduation party before she leaves for college. [Betty, I’m here on your doorstep and I planned it out for weeks now but it’s finally sinking in. Betty right now is the last time I can dream about what happens when I see your face again. The only thing I want to do is make it up to you. So I showed up at your party]. The end of the song, where he’s talking about kissing in her car again, etc is him building their makeup up in his mind, psyching himself up for confronting her because he thinks it will all pay off.

Betty is shocked to see him, as is everyone else at the party, they’d become something of a spectacle, she brings him outside in the garden to talk in privacy without everyone interjecting or staring. Jame’s apology comes in ‘This is me trying’ where he’s trying to explain his actions more logically than placing blame on everyone and everything else, from Betty. [I don’t quite know what to say, but I’m here in your doorway. // They told me all of my cages were mental (the fact that he has anxiety, etc) so I got wasted like all my potential//pouring my heart out to a stranger, but I didn’t pour the whiskey (his and August’s first encounter/cheating incident after Prom). But “this is him trying, at least he’s trying...it’s hard to be at a party when [he] feels like an open wound” and quite honestly, “it’s hard [for him] to be anything these days when all [he] wants is [Betty]. It’s a great apology, he wears his heart on his sleeve, but Betty doesn’t want to fix things between him, she wants to move on. It was too difficult for her to get over him once, she can’t open herself up to trusting him again. [Cardigan: I knew you’d linger like a tattooed kiss, I knew you’d haunt all of my what ifs.// I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired, and you’d be standing in my front porch light.] 

Betty leaves for college.

A few years away in college has caused some healing for Betty and some insight into life outside of her small town and high school boyfriend [The One: If you never bleed you’re never going to grow, but it’s alright now]. But when she’s talking with her mom and something comes up about James, thoughts and feeling she hasn’t felt in years come racing back. She can’t help but wonder how things might’ve turned out if things didn’t end how they did because as much as she hates to admit it, she’ll always love James in some way. [We were something, don’t you think so?// if my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.// it would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one.// I persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different (if he hadn’t slept with August) would everything be different today?.// You know the greatest films of all time were never made.] [My Tears Ricochet: And I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want just not home. And you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones.] 

***Now, things get a little more dicey here not as tight, lol but bear with me***

Betty comes home after graduation from college and runs into James. They’re cordial and nice and when James asks if they can get dinner and catch up, Betty agrees. They have a good evening, reconnect a little, but when they go riding and drive to some familiar places from their childhood, past hard conversations re-arise. It brings a lot of unwelcomed emotions back up in Betty, and she realizes it’s harder than she thought it would be to forgive James. [The One: the greatest films of all time were never made. Exile: I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.] Meanwhile, James just wants to forgive and forget the past, after all, they were kids, only seventeen. His hurt comes from the fact that after he tried to patch things up after graduation, not only did Betty dismiss him and leave, but she never reached out or spoke to him again. [Exile: It took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it. Holding all this love out here in the hall.] He came to the front porch/door to try and fix things with her, and she “left out the side door.” 

Betty [My Tears Ricochet: Even on my worst day, did I deserve babe, all the hell you gave me? Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you, til my dying day. // And I still talk to you (while I’m screaming at the sky) and when you can’t sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)// Hoax: My twisted knife, my sleepless night, my winless fight this has frozen my ground.] 

Hoax is where things come to a head with Betty and James. [Stood on the cliffside screaming, “Give me a reason. Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. // You knew it still hurts underneath my scars, from when they pulled me apart. But what you did was just dark.]

Mad Woman continues as August finds out that Betty and James get back together, and cannot get over it. She never got over James either. Only her sadness turns to anger. [Now I breathe flames each time I talk. // They say “move on” but you know I won’t.// It’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.] 

Invisible String comes when Betty and James are in a stable, happy place in their relationship again. Possibly engaged for marriage. [Time, mystical time, cutting me open then healing me fine.// Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons. One single thread of gold tied me to you.// Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.]

And, I like to think that August did eventually move on and found someone who appreciates her and truly loves her, isn’t just using her for revenge, or because she’s hot, or because they’re trying to forget their own problems. But someone who actually values her for herself. (Invisible String: Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart. Now I send their babies presents.)

AGAIN, this is obviously just my own theory/fun. Not meant to be taken seriously. Hope you enjoyed!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey, lovely!! Do you have any Johnlock or Mystrade fics with one of the them having a disability? I'd also appreciate any genderswap fics that you may have, regardless of their topic. I find the lack of femlock disturbing :)

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Hi! I have been in the mood for some good whump fics lately. Would you happen to know of any that include sherlock getting a life changing disability (paralysis, amputation, blindness, deafness, loss of speech, etc…) Thx

Hi Lovely and Nonny!!

Ahh, I’m so sorry, I don’t have a LOT of fics, and the ones I do have are only Johnlock (don’t really care for Mystrade so I don’t read it), and I haven’t read any femlock so sadly I don’t have personal recs, though you can check out my blog tag to see what I do have on my blog. SO SORRY!

And Nonny, your ask came just in time for this post, so I’m attaching your ask to this one, because this whole list is any of the disabled fics I have, and I’m also linking you to the recs I have for Deaf/Mute/Blindness since you asked for them, though I believe I’ve added them all to this list… In case I didn’t, you can check out those lists too

DISABILITIES or MEDICAL CONDITIONS (Apr. 2020)

See also:  

Deafness 

Deaf/Mute/Blind Sherlock/John (Dec 2019)

New World, Old Words by thedeafwriter (G, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Deaf Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Always John) – It was disconcerting to experience. One second, he was laying on the table, breathing in the gas that would make him sleep, the next, he was dragging his eyes open to look around the bright room, trying to wake up.

Angel by MrsNoggin (T, 1,513 w., 1 Ch.  || Winglock, Friendship, Chromoesthesia, Drugging) – John is an angel. That can be the only explanation. A response to the challenging request for a realistic wingfic one-shot.

One in Ten Thousand by Blind Author (K+, 1,856 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Discussions of Violence, Worried then Curious Sherlock, Scars/John’s Bullet Wound, Medical Anomolies) – John seems to have unusual mobility for a shoulder wound…

Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil by PipMer (T, 1,895 w., 1 Ch. || Deaf John, Mute Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Fluff and Angst, Character Study, Morse Code, Love Confessions) – John is deaf. Sherlock is mute. There are no two people more suited for each other.

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John’s danger days.

Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomolies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John’s chest, right at his heart, and shot.’ Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w., 3 Ch. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn’t always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation, Diabetes) – John “Five Oceans” Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Autistic Sherlock, Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w., 71 Ch. || Future AU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say:Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w., 34 Ch. || Established Relationship, Major Character Injury, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis/Disabilities, Hurt/Comfort, POV Sherlock, Mental Health Issues, Drug Use, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it’s a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

On Pins And Needles Series by 7PercentSolution, J_Baillier (E, 598,184 w. across 15 works || Sick Fic/Medical Realism, Guillain-Barré syndrome, Autism Spectrum, Medical Procedures, Whump, Romance, Slow Burn, Big Brother Mycroft, Mental Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drama, Friends to Lovers, See Story for Additional Tags) – His immune system is decimating his nervous system - a civil war raging inside of him. Is there a reaction he’s supposed to be having to this news, now? Something normal: cry, scream, pound the wall? Shake his fist at the uncaring universe? John can’t stop this. An uncomfortable bed at some hospital ward isn’t going to stop this. They keep telling him that this will most likely pass, but no one is answering the most important question: how will he be able to endure the uncertainty and the long wait? (TO READ)

[convenientalias]

Hiya :) I'd love to read Jingim + bleeding through the bandages or Mei Lin + traumatic touch aversion! (That sounds a bit enthusiastic... I'm not a sadist, really!)

I don’t think I’ve ever written a Jingim fic and that’s honestly kind of sad so I had to do it. This is a fic I wrote in a notebook in a hotel room! It’s kind of rough.

Cross-posted to AO3 here. Thanks for the prompt!

(Written for @badthingshappenbingo)

Itwasn’t often the Khan’s three “sons” came together into a single room (withoutthe presence of Kublai himself, at least). Jingim, for one, was not entirelyfriendly with Byamba and Amhad still. Lately he was making more of an effort toget along, but he couldn’t put himself on their level entirely—not on the levelof an adopted son or a bastard, not when he was Kublai’s heir and still had somuch to prove.  Besides, the three werealways too busy to sit around chatting. Nevertheless, in recent times, with allthe trouble that had been going around, they were working to put aside theirdifferences and present a unified front. For this reason they did occasionallymeet to discuss current events. And tonight was one of those rare occasions.Ahmad said they had something to discuss.

Ofcourse, whether this could be called a “room” was another question. They hadagreed to meet in the stables at night and go riding together, so they couldtalk where there were no listening ears, privacy always being dubious inKhanbalig. Jingim had, frustratingly, arrived early and therefore first. Ahmadhad made the meeting sound urgent, but neither he nor Byamba were here yet. Ithad already been a long several minutes, and Jingim was getting impatient.

Hehad spent the time currying his horse. Usually a servant did it for him—he hadno time for menial labor and trifling matters. But it was relaxing, and hishorse seemed to appreciate it. As he brushed, he gently patted its neck.Probably, he thought to himself, this would be the best company he’d gettonight. Inevitably he and his brothers would end up arguing. He would be ableto hold his own, but he did not look forward to it.

Thesound of the creaky stable door opening had him turning around, an accusationof tardiness already on his lips. It died in the first syllable when he saw whoit was, not Byamba or Ahmad, but a stranger. A man in dark clothing with clothover his face. Jingim didn’t recognize the man but he did recognize theuniform.

“Hashs—”

Aknife came hurtling his direction, on course to skewer his throat. He dodged,and the assassin was on him. He blocked another knife strike but caught a kneeto the sternum. The man was quick. Jingim dodged another blow and tried tocatch his breath. Getting some distance between himself and his attacker, hedrew his sword. He hadn’t expected trouble tonight, but he carried it with himeverywhere. These days, you never knew.

Heheld it steadily in front of him. “Who sent you?”

Ofcourse the assassin didn’t answer. He tucked the knife away silently and drewout, instead, a length of cloth.

Jingimnarrowed his eyes. It felt off. But enough hesitation. He lunged forward. Thesword nearly pierced the assassin’s chest, but at the last second, the clothtwisted and tangled around it and the sword flew out of Jingim’s grasp and downto the floor. Before he could step away the assassin stabbed him in the gut, asharp slice that sank deep before Jingim jumped back.

Hepressed down on the wound, hard. The assassin sheathed his knife and regardedhim coolly.

“Youmad bastard,” Jingim gasped. “You think you’re untouchable?”

Theassassin cocked his head.

“Ihave seen your kind die. I have seen them scream and beg. You are not as strongas you think.”

Hecast around with one hand for the hilt of his sword, now buried in cloth andstraw, while holding his guts in with the other. The assassin touched a hand tohis chest—a brief, maybe wry, salute—and walked out. Jingim heard the dooragain creak closed.

Soeither he hadn’t been sent to kill Jingim but merely to wound him or he thoughtJingim was as good as dead already and didn’t like to kick a dog who wasalready down. The latter was more likely. The straw below Jingim was alreadypuddling with blood. Jingim cursed and ripped some cloth off the bottom of hisrobe, which he wrapped around the wound, around his waist. And he tried tothink of what to do next.

Thestables were not very near his room. They were near Byamba’s, but Byamba andAhmad were the only ones who knew Jingim would be here tonight, and for somereason they still weren’t here, even though it was long past time. He had tooperate under the assumption that this treachery had been planned by one ofthem, distasteful as the thought was.

Whichleft Jingim making a decision he bitterly resented—instead of going to the roomof someone he at least wanted to trust for aid, he headed to the livingquarters of someone he was fairly certain he couldn’t, but who at least was tooinept to plot something of this kind.

TheLatin. Marco Polo.

Hispride would be hurt, but his body was in a worse state, and it was more importantto his survival. The stab wound was still leaking despite his makeshiftbandages. Funnily enough the robe was already red, but the blood was making itdarken. He pressed down as he walked. His hands were sticky, and along with theecho of his footsteps, he could hear a tell-tale dripping, regular and almostpatient. Every step was jarring.

Step,drip, step, drip, step, drip. Drip drip drip.

Hepressed harder.

Whenhe reached Polo’s door, he spared a hand to knock. Hard. Still, a torturousmoment passed before Polo answered. Their eyes met before Polo’s eyes droppeddown to Jingim’s torso. He gaped.

“Thereare more Hashshashin in our city,” Jingim said. He pushed in past Polo, who wasstill frozen in the doorway. “I need cloth and you should alert the guard.Probably a doctor as well.”

“PrinceJingim…”

“Now,Latin,” Jingim said. “You wouldn’t want me dying on your doorstep. My fathermight be fond of you but that’s not something he would overlook.”

Hesank down on Polo’s narrow bed, listening to him scramble. After what seemedlike forever the cloth arrived. Polo hovered as Jingim wrapped it on top of theold bandage, now already soaked and doing a poor job of staunching the wound.Jingim glared at him.

“Isaid to fetch the guard.”

“Yousaid to keep you from dying,” Polo said. “Please, my prince, let me help.”

“Adoctor would be more useful. Now, go.”

Byambaand Ahmad had good excuses for their absence. The same excuse, actually. Bothclaimed to have received a letter in Jingim’s handwriting, stamped with atleast a good facsimile of his seal, telling them the time of the meeting hadchanged to an hour later. The letters had been pushed under their doors—nomessenger could be identified. Ahmad could produce sucha letter. Byamba said hehad burned his for the sake of secrecy, and could produce only edges ofparchment from the ash of his lamp.

ThisJingim knew from the doctor, who brought both medicines and news. His motherhad brought updates as well. They were the only visitors he had received sofar. Both Byamba and Ahmad had requested an audience, and he had refused themboth. He would not refuse them forever, but until he could face them, hispossible murderers, without so much as flinching, he did not want to see theirfaces. He would not show them weakness.

Kublaihad not visited, nor had he sent any messages. Rumor had it he was angry. Ragewas good—concern, in person, might have been better, but Jingim knew betterthan to expect that. Besides, in person Kublai might well expressdisappointment that Jingim hadn’t been able to fend the assassin off, andJingim was already disappointed enough in himself.

SoJingim kept visitors away. Except for one. He summoned Marco Polo.

“Myfather says your investigation into the matter of the assassins turned upnothing, even after the voyage I sent you on. That you could come to noconclusion.”

Polobowed. “That is correct, my prince.”

He’dgotten into the habit of calling Jingim that. Jingim didn’t much like the habit—itwas familiar, and it gave the impression of loyalty that Polo probably didn’thave. It made Jingim want to trust him when he knew he couldn’t. Even thesewords could well be lies—Polo would lie if Kublai asked him to. That was only right,to obey the Khan, but it would have been nice if someone would give Jingim thetruth, a straightforward answer, for once in his life.

Hesighed. “Well, here is another lead for you. I expect you will follow itthoroughly.”

“Yes,my prince.” Polo bowed again. At least he was respectful. “I hope you are doingbetter.”

“I’mnot doing any worse. That would be difficult.” Jingim snorted. “The doctor saidit was good he got to me when he did. You may yet earn my trust.” At least insmall things, and efficiency. “Impress me.”

Onefinal bow. “I’ll do my best.”

Withthat, Polo was dismissed, and Jingim sighed. There. It was out of his hands—Kublaiwanted him to stay out of it, so he would, even if it was his own assassinationas well as Kublai’s. He knew the value of patience. Soon he would be back incourt, and he would have a scar but would pretend that the attempt had donenothing to shake him. Maybe it would fool Byamba and Ahmad or whoever elsemight have tried to kill him. Probably it wouldn’t be enough to scare theculprit off. But there was nothing else Jingim could do. For now he would haveto rest.