#athough there is a lamp there

[your-fave-is-bi]

alsomy god my parents are horrible at like. properly lighting their place.

[topoillogical]

The sexy lamp test and bechdel test are both good (being bare minimums does not make them not good tests; we live in a society), but both measuring very different things

[lovelyshawnn]

Sick Little Games

George Weasley x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader

Y/N and Draco were known as the ultimate slytherin duo. When she catches him in the act of infidelity, she makes it a goal to hurt him back as much as he hurt her. What starts as nothing but a sick little game, turns into something more with another red headed boy.

“what would malfoy think if he knew i was fucking his girl right now?” george grunted in my ear, hips thrusting into mine while my back was pressed against the prefect bathroom’s cold stone wall. my legs were wrapped around his waist, sultry moans tumbling out of my mouth as he fucked me senseless. his words only intensified the pleasure as i gripped on to his biceps for support. he could feel my wet pussy clenching around his throbbing cock, signfying that i was close to coming.

“what would your little boyfriend think if he knew how well you take my cum?” i let out a whimper as his thick cock hit my gspot, making my vision go completely white. “fuck y/n,” he grunted as his pace quickened. i let out a string of curse words, toes curling in pleasure as he rubbed my clit with his long slender fingers as we reached our orgasms together.

his movements slowed and eventually halted, cock still balls deep in me as he placed loving kisses all over my face. he slowly released me from his hold, planting my feet back on the ground before completely removing himself from me. with our chests still heaving, we transitioned from standing by the bathroom’s windows, to the warm bubbly bath. this was common thing for us, so naturally we were able to establish a routine. sneaking out of the dorms late at night to see each other, satisfying our thirsts for each other before taking a dip in the bath to relax and cleanse ourselves of our sins.

george’s hands worked its way down my neck and shoulders, rubbing out any knots while he gave me little pecks on my forehead. i smiled my first genuine smile of the day. i was constantly dragging myself throughout the day, in and out of my classes, plastering a fake smile until the clock struck a certain time at night where i would meet up with george. “so why are you still with that git anyways?”

i rolled my eyes at his choice of words. i considered not even replying at all, but one glance at his concentrated face with that accusational eyebrow raise, and i knew this was something he wasnt going to drop again.

“he loves me,” i sighed, shrugging my shoulders.

“he loves you? is that why you caught him fucking pansy parkinson in the forbidden section of the library?” georges hostile tone rang in my ears.

it was supposed to be our date night. draco knew how stressed i had been with all our recent exams, and how much i needed a break. my sweet, loving boyfriend of almost 2 years proposed we have a date night full of snuggles and snacks to relieve my stress. after getting dolled up and waiting in our slytherin common room for over an hour, i came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to show up.

the silly thing was, i really tried to make excuses for him. blaise had strolled past on his way up to his dorm and asked why i was sitting there all alone. “just waiting on draco,” id say passively, in which he’d give me a pitiful smile before heading up. i thought, maybe he just got caught up on some of his prefect duties. or maybe he took a nap and overslept. or maybe he even got detention for the day, but he would never forget about me, right? surely he couldn’t forget about his own plans that he made.

i’d grown tired of sitting there all alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive. so i grabbed my book bag and decided to head to the library to get a head start on some homework. walking deeper and deeper into the dark library, thats when i heard it. the faint gasps and moans coming from a high pitched female voice. “ugh,” i thought, “who wouldn’t even have the decency to go to a private spot?”

i rounded the corner, my eyes almost bulging out of my skull as i took in the sight in front of me. a bright platinum head of hair stuffed into the crook of pansy parkinsons neck, as he fucked her on one of the library desks with her skirt hitched all the way up. they had been so into it that they didnt even see me. what gave it away was some stupid lamp falling over as i rushed out of the library, tears in my eyes. athough they stopped at the sound indicating someone was there, they never knew it was me.

my vision was blurry, tears streaming faster down my cheeks as i ran away. i wasnt sure where i was going, but i knew i had to be as far away as possible from that complete and utter asshole. from the second i saw him til now, a million feelings coursed through my body. i was devastated, devastated that the man i loved for 2 whole years had been lying to my face. how long was he unloyal for? was this the first time? these unanswered questions made me transition from grief to rage. i was infuriated that he took me as some kind of fool who would never find out about his cheating ways. i had been so caught up in my emotions that i didnt notice where i was going, smacking face first into a very toned chest.

“Woah! Y/N? You alright there, love?” George’s voice was impossible not to recognize. “Oh, I-I’m sorry,” I gasped before turning around to leave. His warm hand clasped around my wrist softly, tugging me back as one of his hands lifted my chin up so that he could inspect my face, and most importantly my blood shot eyes.

“You’re crying,” his voice was a lot softer than i’ve ever heard it before. with him being a gryffindor and me being a slytherin, i was used to the rude remarks he’d yell at us in the hallways. him and his lovely twin have always made my life here at hogwarts a living hell. as of recently, he went from constant bullying to the exact opposite. he was always throwing complements my way as loud and obnoxious as possible. and i knew he did it just to get a rise out of his most hated slytherin of all, draco. draco was always a possesive boyfriend, not wanting any guys to look at me. but having a weasley complement me out of everyone else would’ve drove him absolutely mad.

however, what started out as an excuse to piss off draco, had turned into something else. george couldn’t help but notice how my eyes were a lot browner than he remembered, a certain twinkle in them whenever i got excited talking to my housemates about something. he quickly found himself feeling jealous as malfoy walked through the halls with his arm around my shoulder.

of course, i was oblivious to all of this, which would’ve explained his soft tone. “I’m fine,” I sniffled, wiping my tears off with the sleeve of my sweater and avoiding direct eye contact. “Come with me,” he wasted no time, dragging me down the corridor before i could mutter a response. he led me to the prefect bathroom, opening the doors for me as i took in the beautiful mosaics.

“how did you even get the password?” i asked suspiciously to the troublesome boy.

he shrugged, “turned percy’s hair blue and wouldnt change it back until he’d tell me,”

i let out a snort, which i was quick to cover with a cough. only he could make me genuinely laugh after figuring out the man i had loved so deeply, didnt love me back enough to keep his dick in his pants. i turned away from his gaze, but he saw it. he took pride in being able to cause that gorgeous smile, but he was nice enough to not tease me about it tonight. he’d definitely bring it up another day, though.

“so, whats wrong?” he asked, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the porcelain sinks. i let out a sigh, debating on whether i should tell him at all. he was supposed to be our rival, afterall.

“draco cheated,” i stated. georges face softened, all traces of humor dissipating into thin air. “i’m sorry y/n,” he started, “that bloke doesn’t know what he’s got.”

for the first time that night, i looked up at him and saw the look he had in his eyes. the lingering gaze around my figure, the softness in his facial features, the way his eyes bored into mine with a sense of longing.

that was when a lightbulb when off in my head. ill admit that im not proud of what my next thought was, and it was definitely one of the most slytherin things i have ever done, but it was worth it. i wanted to hurt draco. i wanted him to feel as bad as i did, and i wanted revenge.

i strode over to his leaning frame, making it a point to swing my hips in the process. my lips formed a pout as i spoke to him in a low voice. “if he doesn’t know what hes got,” i trailed my fingers from his shoulders down to his chest, “who will?”

my lips got incredibly closer to the shell of his ear. “you?” i asked, cupping his buldge with my hand. he let out a barely audible whimper, eyes staring back at me like a deer in headlights.

i left a gentle kiss on his neck, “tell me if you want me to stop.” george shut his eyes for a split second, contemplating his morals. he weighed his options and outcomes. on one hand, he’d be able to piss off that spoiled brat malfoy, which would give him enough satisfaction to last him the rest of his life. on the other hand, he’d finally get to know what the taste of his crush’s lips were like. it was a win win situation. fuck it, he thought before closing the gap between us, lips moving in sync as the kiss became increasingly passionate. his hands roamed all over my body as i ran my fingers through his hair.

it was an amazing night, full of multiple orgasms that left me struggling to walk properly. george was certainly thicker than malfoy. the day after was when the feelings of sadness, regret, and confusion came sinking in. as soon as i woke up and left my dorm, there he was. in his perfect green uniform that perfectly matched his perfect porcelain skin. dracos head was held high, not a care in the world as it was obvious he completely forgot about our date night and had no idea i caught him and pansy red handed.

i walked past him, not even batting an eye in his direction as i made my way to the great hall. “y/n!” he called out, quickly catching up to me, “whats wrong?”

i rolled my eyes, “you forgot our date.” his eyes immediately widened as he realized his mistake, cheeks blushing like a tomato as he recalled where he was instead of the date. “darling, please forgive me. i’m so sorry, i just got caught up in my studi-“

i halted my steps, not wanting to listen to his bullshit excuse, “i forgive you.” he looked at me with bewilderment, “y-you forgive me?”

“of course,” i gave him the most convincingly sweet smile, “its not a big deal at all!”

his shoulders relaxed in relief at my words. oh, what a stupid boy. what a stupid, stupid boy. the only reason i was “forgiving him” was because i was going to hurt him back, a lot worse. he held my hand in his as we continued our stroll to the great hall, him lifting my hand up to plant a kiss on my knuckles.

right when he had done that, i locked eyes with a familiar red head from across the corridor. he smirked as he watched me, noticing the way my steps were slightly different than normal. it was the same shit eating smile he wore last night as he made me reach my 3rd orgasm, face buried between my legs and licking up my juices as if his life depended on it. i bit my lip as the flashback played in my head, instantly making me feel lightheaded again.

draco and i took our usual spots at the slytherin table, everything seemingly normal until the owls arrived. a letter had been dropped into my lap.

unravelling the parchment, there was a faint message scribbled across in black ink. “same time and place tonight?”

there was no name or any indication of identity, but i knew exactly who it was. luckily from where i was sitting at the table, i had a clear view of george. as i looked up from the letter, i instantly made eye contact with him, him giving me a sly wink before regurning to eat his mashed potatoes. he didnt need an answer, he knew id come back after the night we had togegher.

“whos that letter from?” a voice snapped me out of my haze. i jumped slightly before tucking the letter safely into my robe, “oh, it was just mum.”

“whatd she say?” draco questioned, slightly suspicious as he recognized me hiding the letter.

“she asked how you were, shes having dinner with your parents this weekend,” i said while gulping down my goblet of juice. draco seemed convinced at that answer, dropping his suspicions rather quickly, “oh thats right, mother was telling me about that.”

it was ironic, really. we were seen as the picture perfect duo. the slytherin prince with none other than his slytherin princess. we had the world in our hands, both coming from wealthy pureblood families. even our parents were over the moon at the news of our relationship blossoming, instantly talking about our plans for marriage in the future. but were we willing to throw that all away for these sick little games?

hi guys i know i usually write shawn fics but ive been into hp recently and wanted to give it a try! if u guys rlly like this one, id love to make a part 2 n finish the series (: pls lmk and give feedback! 🤍

[brideofcthulhu10]

Ok I’m at work and I cannot stop thinking about a soulmate au with Dwayne (because he’s my fave) where a psychic or someone tells him that he’ll meet someone with like a specific tattoo or birthmark

Sure thing! Currently the child birth post is taking a lot longer than I expected, I’ve only just finished the David segment, I still have Paul, Marko and Dwayne to go but hopefully they’ll be done before Wednesday.

Dwayne’s Fate

Halloween rolled in and yet the plethora of tourists never seemed to cease. All over the boardwalk they flocked to every newly decorated attraction, sporting cheesy plastic masks, sharing caramel apples, hugging each other as they went into the haunted house... Dwayne couldn’t help but feel the sharp pang of envy overtaking him. The young native pushed his mess of windblown black hair from his face, utterly tuned out while Marko and Paul were scoping out the beach honeys clad in bikinis and shorts. Instead he leaned on the handlebars of his bike, watching the couples pass by. Eighty-One Years. 

He had been a vampire for eighty-one years. In all that time he’d never considered anything outside of his own pack, his coven of brothers who had become vampires alongside him. It was decades of wild nights! He thought he could never want anything else. But when Michael waltzed in and swept up Star and Laddie... he felt almost dark, in a sense. 

Something changed in him the night he came back. He wasn’t sure how. What mattered was that he, and his brothers were alive once again. Well, not alive, but still. Now he was back to terrorizing the night time streets of Santa Carla like he always had. Only, it wasn’t like always.  A part of him wished there was something more to all this. He had hoped one day to settle down when he was still alive but opportunity seemed to be almost gone by this point. Drumming his fingers on the handlebars of his bike, Dwayne grew increasingly impatient remaining in place. Swinging his leg over his bike he sighed with Marko turning to watch the road hog waltz away.

“Hey, Dwayne, where you headed, man,” he called, looking up. 

“For a walk. I can’t sit here all night like you suckers,” Dwayne retorted, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. Silently he wove through bustling crowds, barely lifting his eyes. Anyone who was in his warpath quickly learned to dodge him. Thoughts plagued his head, more than he had before to the point they were cluttering against each other. 

“You there,” a voice called over the unruly sounds of Santa Carla. Dwayne hadn’t thought much of it until an elderly woman quickly wove through. “You! You! Yes, wendigo-boy!”

The term gave him pause, looking back at the silver haired crone waddling his way still pointing her dried up finger until it was inches from his nose. “Yes, I could sense the aura of you and your friends across the way. Your dark presence is unmistakable.”

Dwayne swatted her hand away with a grimace, taking a step back. “Bug off you old bat, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hissed, turning from her.

“Your past may not define your future! It is not too late to find one who can bring light to your darkness,” she insisted, running in front of him. 

Again Dwayne groaned, This broad was persistent. Even when he tried to walk away a third time she managed to swoop around him. 

She was easily in her late 80′s with wiry silver hair barely contained in a low hanging bun. Feathers stuck out of her hair, clanking armfuls of metal bangles rang whenever she moved her hands. Each boney finger cracked, dawning a ring on each that barely hung of aged flesh. Beady brown eyes practically stared into his center which made it impossible to to look at her face. Whenever she spoke he could see her crooked snaggle tooth accompanying her worn voice, raspy as if she had swallowed sandpaper. Wrapped around her burnt orange dress was a worn leather belt chipping away sporting a purple satin bag tied around it. Whatever it was she wanted to discuss was not going to wait. When his internal debate grew to be too much, she finally snatched him firmly by his wrist and began to pull him where she was determined to be. There was no point in questioning any of this, all she did was answer in stupid riddles.

"All will be answered! But you come with now, otherwise you will miss it! Then who knows when it'll happen again."

"It". Whatever this "it" was carried some weight as she used the term frequently. Although reasonably irritated, something in Dwayne felt the need to follow. He resisted the urge to rip her arm out of it’s socket, and instead rapidly shuffled his feet so he didn’t step over the hobbling broad who couldn’t be more than five feet tall- even when she wasn’t hunched over. The way she wove through tourists was eerily timed. Almost perfect. Nothing caught her off guard. Bobbing and weaving. Worst of all no one was moving, everyone around them seemed utterly oblivious to her presence! Pulling him forward she shuffled her way to a small caravan. The dusty old piece was barely illuminated by a single light hanging over the door, wedged between the old donut place and the Santa Carla Gift Shoppe.

 Still clutching his arm, they continued up creaking wooden steps that practically sang as he carried himself atop them. He can as convinced any moment this whole thing was going to collapse. The red door swung open slowly on it's own. Must've been rigged or something to do that. Meanwhile Dwayne had to duck just to avoid hitting the doorway, not that it mattered to the scatterbrained lunatic he decided to follow. Only when they were indoor did she finally release his hand and immediately shut her door behind him. It was decently bigger than what was let on initially. Tucked away behind a thick red curtain was a bed built around an arching stained glass window. It must've been somewhat decent before, athough this woman was such a hoarder you wouldn’t be able to tell at first. What books didn't fill her towering cases were strewn about the the floor in piles. Pages were stained with ink, notes written in old languages stuck to the walls between massive oil paintings depicting glorious battles, mystic creatures, ancient ones he had never seen. Plants were either hanging from the ceiling or over grown in corners. Dwayne made the mistake of sniffing at the strange red mushrooms poking out a dense pot of wriggling soil. He immediately recoiled watching worms surface just to burrow beneath the cakey mud. There were chattering cages hidden behind the bedroom curtain, ones he couldn't see into. Lined up along the wall was an oak desk draped in a velvet purple fabric coated in metallic gold zodiac symbols, completely covered end to end in bizarre herbs, animal parts, even live critters kept in an array of apothecary jars. Shelves held more, beakers of unrecognizable fluids bubbling over rickety bunsen burners. Thick crystals caked in dust jutted out beside a faded wooden box with bizarre pieces of jewelry spilling over, cobwebs gathering in untouched nooks. Rather than lamps or lanterns she had candles everywhere. Dribbling onto the floor, pouring over wrought iron candelabras, wiggling wisps of light spilling around the corners. By the kitchen space were cabinets sporting different colors of even more candles, many carved into with unfamiliar writings. When Dwayne picked up a dirty bottle covered in cobwebs off the crowded oak desk, there was a loud THWACK that made his ears wring.

“Ow! Hey-!”

Before he turned around she had a broom to his face and smacked him again. “No touching,” she demanded, yanking the bottle from him. 

“If I wanted to, I could kill you, you old hag,” he snarled, rapidly stepping towards her with fangs bared. Again, broom.

“Hush! You are not as your bothers are. You desire the knowledge, yes?! You shall not get a word if Alma is dead. No use then!”

Dwayne grumbled a sour huff, rubbing the top of his head. Again he questioned his personal sanity for humoring this hag wielding a mighty broom.

All the while the self proclaimed Alma shuffled around him, snatching up handfuls of bottles and plopping then atop another overcrowded table. Repeatedly she used the words "fool" and "knows nothing" clearly referring to him. Mostly because every time she said those words she'd look over her shoulder at him.

Black as night, her worn iron stove roared when she stoked the fire withing it's oven. Just atop the surface was a heavy black kettle nestled above a scalding red coil. It rattled and hissed, moaning when plumes of steam billowed out into the air. She mumbled and “harumph”ed her way through the caravan. Clanking down a tea set on a worn old silver tray she rapidly shuffled back to her stove to retrieve the screaming kettle still singing it's tune. Without missing a beat she dropped something inside it. It took two trembling hands she poured the water over the strange herbs she had previously retrieved into two cups. The dainty porcelain pieces were etched in golden, ancient writings atop another circular table covered by a deep blue table cloth. With that, she plunked herself atop a creaking old chair, staring at Dwayne with those beady eyes . 

‘Why the fuck am I still here with this old bat?’

Dwayne barely managed to fit in the rickety old seat that squeaked beneath his weight, staring down at the petit cup. The muddied liquid still bubbled, steam spiraling to carry an unbelievably sickening scent. Not necessarily horrible, but utterly confusing. The more he looked at it the more it seemed alive. “I am not touching that.”

“Hush! Nonsense! You shall drink as Alma does, and you will see.”

Dwayne hesitated, watching her sip at the herbal concoction. This was clearly the dumbest decison of his afterlife, but he had already died twice. What was there to be afraid of?

 “On the boardwalk.. you called me ‘wendigo’. What makes you say that?”

“I can see your true form,” she calmly explained, setting down the cup. The leaves barely floated at the base. If he turned his head he swore he could see it forming into the shape of a fanged jaw wide open. “Blood and flesh pave your future, but even those who dwell in darkness deserve a lantern to ease the suffering.”

So, she knew what they were. What he was. “Then why help me if you know I’m a vampire,” he questioned, expecting the tea to be brewed with holy water. 

“It is not my place to judge your path. I have come across many of your kind in my years of living. They all do what they must. So, drink.”

Dwayne hesitated once more, only to lift the beverage to his lips. It was bitter. The taste was reminiscent of biting into tree bark, all he could do is scrunch his nose. 

Then, Alma’s figure began to vibrate. He could see pieces of her breaking off, the room surrounding him peeling away, like old paint off a dirty wall. Strips crumbled to his feet. He attempted to move only to find himself firmly planted to his seat. There was nothing. No sound, no sight, only black. 

With a sharp inhale he opened his eyes to streams of orange. A... sunset?

Dwayne was amazed he could even remember what a sun set looked like. However, there was nothing that could take away the memory of the fire that filled the edges of the sky. Drips of night seeped in, miles of tall wheat grasses swaying in the breeze enveloping him. Still wedged in place he could only sit there, savoring a sight he would never see again.

But when he heard it, and he froze. A laugh. A twinkling bell chiming from far away. Flashes of E/C orbs flickered holding the sun within. A pearly smile whispering his name so softly it sent chills running down his spine. S/C as smooth as satin running a hand on his arm. The face cut in and out, but what he continued to see over and over was a symbol. An inky raven with wings draped over a woven dream catcher. Thick cords wove between each other into intricate details, each hole giving him pieces of who she was. Yes, she. He could hear her voice vibrate through the air. Not what it was saying, but only the sounds it made. “Alright alright, enough,” a raspy voice commanded. 

Dwayne finally jumped up and out of his chair, crashing back down to earth and only the dusty floor of Alma’s caravan practically wheezing for air. He felt like he had just been running for hours!

“Come, come let’s not be dramatic,” Alma snorted, shuffling over to take his tea over to her rusty old wash pan piled with dishes. 

It took a moment to get ahold of his bearings, swearing if he had a heartbeat right now it’d be jumping through his ribs. “What... the fuck... did you give me?!”

“No time for that, child. The bird is waiting for you just beyond the docks,” she began to babble again. Bird? Again that raven flashed before his eyes while Alma pried him off the floor. 

“Wait- but I don’t- will you quit shoving me?!”

Alma continued to yank him until he was out the door barely catching himself as they ran down the steps. “Oooh any minute, any minute. No time for dawdling!”

Quickly she took him by his arm and swung him back out into the crowd, stumbling into a young woman who nearly yelped.

“Oh shit are you okay,” she asked. A few girls giggled at him until she made a face, waving them off. “Sorry I didn’t see you there. Are you alright uh-?”

Just across her collarbone sat a raven tattoo nestled across her chest with winds spread over a dream catcher trailing into her shirt, the trickles of beads left hidden in her blouse. When he looked into those perfect E/C orbs holding the sunset beneath them he could only smile, setting her heart immediately ablaze. With a massive blush tinting her cheeks an adorable crimson hue she pulled him to his feet, unaware once he was standing that she still had not let go of his arm. Looking behind him Dwayne still expected to see the batty old woman sitting outside her caravan. Instead... there was no one in sight. No caravan either. Just an empty alleyway only sporting a few dented old trash bins overflowing with garbage. Slowly he turned back to the girl, positioning himself closer as his crisp smile beamed over cinnamon flesh.

“Well what’s your name first?”

“Y/N,” she spoke with a tender tone, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Y/N. I’m Dwayne. Nice to meet you, princess.”

[milesstimac]

Week 3-History of Design

1. The design of this gutar effect pedal is spot on. It was based off of a previous model and was designed to create a better user experience while retaining some of the original looks. The designers kept the color scheme, and sourced knobs that referenced the originals. The new housing for the electronic components provides users with ease of use and longlasting durability.

2. This notebook is what would seem to be considered modern design. It is stripped down to bare bones and is as simple as it gets which enhances the materials that were in construction.

3. This dial caliper is another example of a sleek design that has no unessesary components and higlights the joy of using a well made percision tool.

4. This archeteture scale is an example of a well thought out design. The stand out aspect of this ruler is the pyramidal structure that allows one the ability to esaliy pick up and move it off the paper.

5. Once again, another example of simple and prictical design. The Bic lighter is of the prefect size and features edges that fit the hand perfectly. In addition it produces a precious flame that avid smokers could not do without. I do wonder if this lighter was designed to be quickly lost as I never have one around long enogh to consume all of the fuel it contains.

6. Notes on design: Modern design seems to stress the harmony of materials within a design. Needless additions that do not enhance the functionality are thought to make a design less desirable.

7. This paper weight is probably is not a fine exmample of modern design. Its role is needed less and less as paper slowly disapears from desks. At the time this was made it may have been a great example of design as it fufilled the fuction of holding down papers while looking nice.

8. Notes on Design: Buildings and products are relying more and more on prefabricated parts that can be quickly assembled. Athough these designs and the comination of these prefabricated parts displays harmony is it alright to deny the careful consturction that a skilled craftsperson might bring? Is there a place for the craftsperson in the future?

9. The swing arm lamp has come along way since it was first created. Although the genral form has stayed the same many lighting advaces such as the LED have improved the function of the design.

10. Notes on Design: Above all, design should fufill a funtion. Is there a point where the funtion does not merit a good design?

[readbookywooks]

THE DWARF TELLS OF PRINCE CASPIAN

PRINCE CASPIAN lived in a great castle in the centre of Narnia with his uncle, Miraz, the King of Narnia, and his aunt, who had red hair and was called Queen Prunaprismia. His father and mother were dead and the person whom Caspian loved best was his nurse, and though (being a prince) he had wonderful toys which would do almost anything but talk, he liked best the last hour of the day when the toys had all been put back in their cupboards and Nurse would tell him stories. He did not care much for his uncle and aunt, but about twice a week his uncle would send for him and they would walk up and down together for half an hour on the terrace at the south side of the castle. One day, while they were doing this, the King said to him, "Well, boy, we must soon teach you to ride and use a sword. You know that your aunt and I have no children, so it looks as if you might have to be King when I'm gone. How shall you like that, eh?" "I don't know, Uncle," said Caspian. "Don't know, eh?" said Miraz. "Why, I should like to know what more anyone could wish for!" "All the same, I do wish," said Caspian. "What do you wish?" asked the King. "I wish - I wish - I wish I could have lived in the Old Days," said Caspian. (He was only a very little boy at the time.) Up till now King Miraz had been talking in the tiresome way that some grown-ups have, which makes it quite clear that they are not really interested in what you are saying, but now he suddenly gave Caspian a very sharp look. "Eh? What's that?" he said. "What old days do you mean?" "Oh, don't you know, Uncle?" said Caspian. "When everything was quite different. When all the animals could talk, and there were nice people who lived in the streams and the trees. Naiads and Dryads they were called. And there were Dwarfs. And there were lovely little Fauns in all the woods. They had feet like goats. And - " "That's all nonsense, for babies," said the King sternly. "Only fit for babies, do you hear? You're getting too old for that sort of stuff. At your age you ought to be thinking of battles and adventures, not fairy tales." "Oh, but there were battles and adventures in those days," said Caspian. "Wonderful adventures. Once there was a White Witch and she made herself Queen of the whole country. And she made it so that it was always winter. And then two boys and two girls came from somewhere and so they killed the Witch and they were made Kings and Queens of Narnia, and their names were Peter and Susan and Edmund and Lucy. And so they reigned for ever so long and everyone had a lovely time, and it was all because of Aslan - " "Who's he?" said Miraz. And if Caspian had been a very little older, the tone of his uncle's voice would have warned him that it would be wiser to shut up. But he babbled on, "Oh, don't you know?" he said. "Aslan is the great Lion who comes from over the sea." "Who has been telling you all this nonsense?" said the King in a voice of thunder. Caspian was frightened and said nothing. "Your Royal Highness," said King Miraz, letting go of Caspian's hand, which he had been holding till now, "I insist upon being answered. Look me in the face. Who has been telling you this pack of lies?" "N - Nurse," faltered Caspian, and burst into tears. "Stop that noise," said his uncle, taking Caspian by the shoulders and giving ham a shake. "Stop it. And never let me catch you talking - or thinking either - about all those silly stories again. There never were those Kings and Queens. How could there be two Kings at the same time? And there's no such person as Aslan. And there are no such things as lions. And there never was a time when animals could talk. Do you hear?" "Yes, Uncle," sobbed Caspian. "Then let's have no more of it," said the King. Then he called to one of the gentlemen-in-waiting who were standing at the far end of the terrace and said in a cold voice, "Conduct His Royal Highness to his apartments and send His Royal Highness's nurse to me AT ONCE." Next day Caspian found what a terrible thing he had done, for Nurse had been sent away without even being allowed to say good-bye to him, and he was told he was to have a Tutor. Caspian missed his nurse very much and shed many tears; and because he was so miserable, he thought about the old stories of Narnia far more than before. He dreamed of Dwarfs and Dryads every night and tried very hard to make the dogs and cats in the castle talk to him. But the dogs only wagged their tails and the cats only purred. Caspian felt sure that he would hate the new Tutor, buy when the new Tutor arrived about a week later he turns out to be the sort of person it is almost impossible not to like. He was the smallest, and also the fattest, man Caspian had ever seen. He had a long, silvery, pointed beard which came down to his waist, and his face, which was brown and covered with wrinkles, looked very wise, very ugly, and very kind. His voice was grave and his eyes were merry so that, until you got to know him really well, it was hard to know when he was joking and when he was serious. His name was Doctor Cornelius. Of all his lessons with Doctor Cornelius the one that Caspian liked best was History. Up till now, except for Nurse's stories, he had known nothing about the History of Narnia, and he was very surprised to learn that the royal family were newcomers in the country. "It was your Highness's ancestor, Caspian the First," said Doctor Cornelius, "who first conquered Narnia and made it his kingdom. It was he who brought all your nation into the country. You are not native Narnians at all. You are all Telmarines - that is, you all came from the Land of Telmar, far beyond the Western Mountains. That is why Caspian the First is called Caspian the Conqueror." "Please, Doctor," asked Caspian one day, "who lived in Narnia before we all came here out of Telmar?" "No men - or very few - lived in Narnia before the Telmarines took it," said Doctor Cornelius. "Then who did my great-great-grandcesters conquer?" "Whom, not who, your Highness," said Doctor Cornelius. "Perhaps it is time to turn from History to Grammar." "Oh please, not yet!" said Caspian. "I mean, wasn't there a battle? Why is he called Caspian the Conqueror if there was nobody to fight with him?" "I said there were very few men in Narnia," said the Doctor, looking at the little boy very strangely through his great spectacles. For a moment Caspian was puzzled and then suddenly his heart gave a leap. "Do you mean," he gasped, "that there were other things? Do you mean it was like in the stories? Were there-?" "Hush!" said Doctor Cornelius, laying his head very close to Caspian's. "Not a word more. Don't you know your Nurse was sent away for telling you about Old Narnia? The King doesn't like it. If he found me telling you secrets, you'd be whipped and I should have my head cut off." "But why?" asked Caspian. "1t is high time we turned to Grammar now," said Doctor Cornelius in a loud voice. "Will your Royal Highness be pleased to open Pulverulentus Siccus at the fourth page of his Grammatical garden or the Arbour of Accidence pleasantlie open'd to Tender Wits?" After that it was all nouns and verbs till lunchtime, but I don't think Caspian learned much. He was too excited. He felt sure that Doctor Cornelius would not have said so much unless he meant to tell him more sooner or later. In this he was not disappointed. A few days later his Tutor said, "Tonight I am going to give you a lesson in Astronomy. At dead of night two noble planets, Tarva and Alambil, will pass within one degree of each other. Such a conjunction has not occurred for two hundred years, and your Highness will not live to see it again. It will be best if you go to bed a little earlier than usual. When the time of the conjunction draws near I will come and wake you." This didn't seem to have anything to do with Old Narnia, which was what Caspian really wanted to hear about, but getting up in the middle of the night is always interesting and he was moderately pleased. When he went to bed that night, he thought at first that he would not be able to sleep; but he soon dropped off and it seemed only a few minutes before he felt someone gently shaking him. He sat up in bed and saw that the room was full of moonlight. Doctor Cornelius, muffled in a hooded robe and holding a small lamp in his hand, stood by the bedside. Caspian remembered at once what they were going to do. He got up and put on some clothes. Athough it was a summer night he felt colder than he had expected and was quite glad when the Doctor wrapped him in a robe like his own and gave him a pair of warm, soft buskins for his feet. A moment later, both muffled so that they could hardly be seen in the dark corridors, and both shod so that they made almost no noise, master and pupil left the room. Caspian followed the Doctor through many passages and up several staircases, and at last, through a little door in a turret, they came out upon the leads. On one side were the battlements, on the other a steep roof; below them, all shadowy and shimmery, the castle gardens; above them, stars and moon. Presently they came to another door, which led into the great central tower of the whole castle: Doctor Cornelius unlocked it and they began to climb the dark winding stair of the tower. Caspian was becoming excited; he had never been allowed up this stair before. It was long and steep, but when they came out on the roof of the tower and Caspian had got his breath, he felt that it had been well worth it. Away on his right he could see, rather indistinctly, the Western Mountains. On his left was the gleam of the Great River, and everything was so quiet that he could hear the sound of the waterfall at Beaversdam, a mile away. There was no difficulty in picking out the two stars they had come to see. They hung rather low in the southern sky, almost as bright as two little moons and very close together. "Are they going to have a collision?" he asked in an awestruck voice. "Nay, dear Prince," said the Doctor (and he too spoke in a whisper). "The great lords of the upper sky know the steps of their dance too well for that. Look well upon them. Their meeting is fortunate and means some great good for the sad realm of Narnia. Tarva, the Lord of Victory, salutes Alambil, the Lady of Peace. They are just coming to their nearest." "It's a pity that tree gets in the way," said Caspian. "We'd really see better from the West Tower, though it is not so high." Doctor Cornelius said nothing for about two minutes, but stood still with his eyes fixed on Tarva and Alambil. Then he drew a deep breath and turned to Caspian. "There," he said. "You have seen what no man now alive has seen, nor will see again. And you are right. We should have seen it even better from the smaller tower. I brought you here for another reason." Caspian looked up at him, but the Doctor's hood concealed most of his face. "The virtue of this tower," said Doctor Cornelius, "is that we have six empty rooms beneath us, and a long stair, and the door at the bottom of the stair is locked. We cannot be overheard." "Are you going to tell me what you wouldn't tell me the other day?" said Caspian. "I am," said the Doctor. "But remember. You and I must never talk about these things except here - on the very top of the Great Tower." "No. That's a promise," said Caspian. "But do go on, please." "Listen," said the Doctor. "All you have heard about Old Narnia is true. It is not the land of Men. It is the country of Aslan, the country of the Waking Trees and Visible Naiads, of Fauns and Satyrs, of Dwarfs and Giants, of the gods and the Centaurs, of Talking Beasts. It was against these that the first Caspian fought. It is you Telmarines who silenced the beasts and the trees and the fountains, and who killed and drove away the Dwarfs and Fauns, and are now trying to cover up even the memory of them. The King does not allow them to be spoken of." "Oh, I do wish we hadn't," said Caspian. "And I am glad it was all true, even if it is all over." "Many of your race wish that in secret," said Doctor Cornelius. "But, Doctor," said Caspian, "why do you say my race? After all, I suppose you're a Telmarine too." "Am I?" said the Doctor. "Well, you're a Man anyway," said Caspian. "Am I?" repeated the Doctor in a deeper voice, at the same moment throwing back his hood so that Caspian could see his face clearly in the moonlight. All at once Caspian realized the truth and felt that he ought to have realized it long before. Doctor Cornelius was so small, and so fat, and had such a very long beard. Two thoughts came into his head at the same moment. One was a thought of terror - "He's not a real man, not a man at all, he's a Dwarf, and he's brought me up here to kill me." The other was sheer delight - "There are real Dwarfs still, and I've seen one at last." "So you've guessed it in the end," said Doctor Cornelius. "Or guessed it nearly right. I'm not a pure Dwarf. I have human blood in me too. Many Dwarfs escaped in the great battles and lived on, shaving their beards and wearing highheeled shoes and pretending to be men. They have mixed with your Telmarines. I am one of those, only a halfDwarf, and if any of my kindred, the true Dwarfs, are still alive anywhere in the world, doubtless they would despise me and call me a traitor. But never in all these years have we forgotten our own people and all the other happy creatures of Narnia, and the long-lost days of freedom." "I'm - I'm sorry, Doctor," said Caspian. "It wasn't my fault, you know." "I am not saying these things in blame of you, dear Prince," answered the Doctor. "You may well ask why I say them at all. But I have two reasons. Firstly, because my old heart has carried these secret memories so long that it aches with them and would burst if I did not whisper them to you. But secondly, for this: that when you become King you may help us, for I know that you also, Telmarine though you are, love the Old Things." "I do, I do," said Caspian. "But how can I help?" "You can be kind to the poor remnants of the Dwarf people, like myself. You can gather learned magicians and try to find a way of awaking the trees once more. You can search through all the nooks and wild places of the land to see if any Fauns or Talking Beasts or Dwarfs are perhaps still alive in hiding." "Do you think there are any?" asked Caspian eagerly. "I don't know - I don't know," said the Doctor with a deep sigh. "Sometimes I am afraid there can't be. I have been looking for traces of them all my life. Sometimes I have thought I heard a Dwarf-drum in the mountains. Sometimes at night, in the woods, I thought I had caught a glimpse of Fauns and Satyrs dancing a long way off; but when I came to the place, there was never anything there. I have often despaired; but something always happens to start me hoping again. I don't know. But at least you can try to be a King like the High King Peter of old, and not like your uncle." "Then it's true about the Kings and Queens too, and about the White Witch?" said Caspian. "Certainly it is true," said Cornelius. "Their reign was the Golden Age in Narnia and the land has never forgotten them." "Did they live in this castle, Doctor?" "Nay, my dear," said the old man. "This castle is a thing of yesterday. Your great-great-grandfather built it. But when the two sons of Adam and the two daughters of Eve were made Kings and Queens of Narnia by Aslan himself, they lived in the castle of Cair Paravel. No man alive has seen that blessed place and perhaps even the ruins of it have now vanished. But we believe it was far from here, down at the mouth of the Great River, on the very shore of the sea." "Ugh!" said Caspian with a shudder. "Do you mean in the Black Woods? Where all the - the - you know, the ghosts live?" "Your Highness speaks as you have been taught," said the Doctor. "But it is all lies. There are no ghosts there. That is a story invented by the Telmarines. Your Kings are in deadly fear of the sea because they can never quite forget that in all stories Aslan comes from over the sea. They don't want to go near it and they don't want anyone else to go near it. So they have let great woods grow up to cut their people off from the coast. But because they have quarrelled with the trees they are afraid of the woods. And because they are afraid of the woods they imagine that they are full of ghosts. And the Kings and great men, hating both the sea and the wood, partly believe these stories, and partly encourage them. They feel safer if no one in Narnia dares to go down to the coast and look out to sea towards Aslan's land and the morning and the eastern end of the world." There was a deep silence between them for a few minutes. Then Doctor Cornelius said, "Come. We have been here long enough. It is time to go down and to bed." "Must we?" said Caspian. "I'd like to go on talking about these things for hours and hours and hours." "Someone might begin looking for us, if we did that," said Doctor Cornelius.