//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Small Scale // by Twinkletail //------------------------------// Three whole minutes. It was absolutely unprecedented, something the likes of which a baby dragon like him had never wanted to experience. To others (and typically to himself), three minutes might have seemed like a minuscule span of time, but to Spike in this specific situation, three minutes was an eternity, a stretch of temporal torment with no end in sight. Spike had tried everything to escape the crib. Climbing hadn't worked. Trying to topple the thing over had proved impossible. He'd even tried his fire breath as a last resort, but the entire thing seemed to be fireproof. Given that it was furniture for dragons, this shouldn't have come as a surprise to Spike, but it managed to anyway, the wily devil that it was. For now, it seemed that the crib was his prison. He sighed and flumped onto his back as he came to this conclusion. At least it was a comfortable prison. "Are you ready for your meal, Small Scale?" Celia's voice rang in Spike's ears as she walked into the room, carrying a tray of something that he couldn't see. Spike glared at her, resenting her greatly for the things she'd already said and done to him. Surely she had some manner of terribly embarrassing baby food that she would force upon him. "My name isn't Small Scale," Spike said, arms crossed. "It's Spike." He might have been taken against his will and trapped, but he wasn't about to have his identity taken away without a fight. Although considering the size differences, he certainly wasn't hoping for that option to come up. "Hm," Celia said, staring at Spike for a good few moments. The pause was long enough to make Spike worry that he had angered her. Much to his relief, a small smile crossed her face. "I guess you can still call yourself that if you must. But to me, you're my darling Small Scale." Spike rolled his eyes. At least it was progress. "Now then," Celia said, giving Spike a warm smile. "I believe I asked you a question. Are you ready for your meal?" Spike tensed up as he looked up at the tray in Celia's talons, the contents of which were still a mystery to him. Based on everything that he'd seen from her so far, he had a feeling he knew exactly what was on that tray. Some vile concoction of baby food and a warm bottle of milk awaited him in his immediate future, and she was going to force him to finish every bit of both of them. He started to back away as she lowered the tray, but the bars of the crib stopped him from moving any further. "Please no..." Spike pleaded. Then he caught sight of the tray's contents. A small plate of tiny gemstones sat in the center of the tray, and next to it was a cup of apple juice. The cup had a sippy cup lid on it, but it wasn't a rubber nipple, and that was all that mattered to him at the moment. "No?" Celia asked. "Are you not hungry? I guess food can wait a little while if you really don't want it." Spike's mouth watered as he stared at the bounty in front of him. He hadn't eaten since just before Twilight left for the Crystal Empire. He still wasn't sure how much time had passed since then, but if the rumbling of his stomach was any indication, it had likely been a while. "Your belly seems to disagree with you," Celia said, giggling softly. "Come on, let's get you out of that crib and over to the table." Spike's eyes went wide at the thought of freedom from this makeshift prison. Combined with the hunger pangs and the promise of delicious gemstones, he decided to tolerate Celia's whims for the moment. Not that he had much of a choice, as the larger dragon picked him up with ease once more. "I can walk there myself..." Spike grumbled. "Well of course you can," Celia responded. "I just like having my little whelp close to me. You have your whole rest of your life to walk around on your own accord. Won't you let Mommy carry you for now?" "I'd rather walk," Spike insisted. He might have been hungry, but that didn't mean he was going to sell himself out just for a meal. "Oh..." Celia said. "Well...alright then." Spike marveled at how easy that was as he felt himself being lowered towards the ground. A sense of self-satisfaction came over him, but at the same time he couldn't help but notice the hint of sadness in Celia's tone. He put it out of his mind for now. She was holding him here against his will and seemed to have no intentions of ever letting him go home. It was a bit hard to have much compassion for her. Spike felt a sense of real freedom as his feet touched the ground and Celia's talon released him. This was his chance to escape! ...If he had any idea how to do so. Even if he was able to somehow find his way out of the house, he had no idea at all where he had been taken. The sense of freedom faded as fast as it came; until he had any earthly clue of just where he was, running was not an option. Even if it was, Celia's clear size advantage ensured that she would catch up with him. "Come on then, sweetie," Celia cooed, back to her normal cheerful tone. Spike sighed lightly. He didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. When Celia exited the room, he reluctantly followed her. He paid careful attention to where he was going, noting each turn they made down the torchlit stone hallways. He wasn't anywhere near as detail-oriented as Twilight, but hopefully enough of it had rubbed off on him. He also took note of how Celia was looking back at him every few steps, likely to see if he was okay and still following. Spike couldn't help but admit to himself that she probably would make a good mother if she ever had a whelp of her own. Not for him, though. The two soon entered a small dining room. Like the nursery before it, this room was also made entirely of stone, down to the rectangular table that jutted up from the floor itself. "Is everything made of stone here?" Spike asked as he took in his surroundings. "Not everything," Celia responded as she opened a clearly wooden closet door. "But pretty close. We don't have overly-extravagant houses like your captors. We dragons are quite happy with making our own homes out of caves." "Making your own homes?" Spike asked, head tilted. "You mean you made this home yourself?" "I did," Celia assured him. "You may not know this since you've spent your life with those ponies, but many dragons consider it a rite of passage to carve the insides of a cave into their own vision of their home." She set the tray down on a counter, freeing one talon up to reach down and scratch Spike's head. "And one day when you're big and strong, maybe you'll do the same." "Wow," Spike replied, ignoring the scratching. "That's actually pretty cool." As little as he wanted to be in this position, it was kind of interesting learning a little factoid about dragons. "Much cooler than those pony homes, huh?" Celia asked with a grin. "And nowhere near as much of an eyesore." "Ponies do have to build their homes too," Spike said, rolling his eyes. "And a lot of them look really nice." "Oh, you poor thing," Celia replied simply as she set something on one of the chairs. From his vantage point, Spike could tell that it was a booster seat. At least it wouldn't be as demeaning as a high chair. "Up you go!" Celia said, both talons scooping under Spike's arms. He was lifted into the air, brought forward to receive another kiss on the forehead, then set down on the booster seat. The seat was a bit cold, but he wouldn't have been able to reach the table without it, so he supposed he could deal with it. Spike watched with interest as the tray was set on the table. The light of the torches caused the gemstones to glitter, which only made them look more appealing. Spike reached eagerly for the spoon next to them, only to stop short as Celia picked it up instead. He groaned as he watched her scoop a few gemstones up. "I can feed myself," Spike insisted. "Been doing it for a while." "Oh, but I'd really like it if you let me," Celia said. "And I'd really like it if you let me," Spike responded, glaring at her. Celia stared right back at him, but not with the same emotion that he did. Her eyes looked somewhat sad. Spike let out a long sigh, cursing himself for being such a sympathetic dragon. Besides, this was a rather tame thing to consent to, and there was the chance he could leverage this against her if she tried something worse. "Fine, but only this once. And if you make any train sounds..." "Of course I won't," Celia said, beaming. "That's for hatchlings. You're a big boy." She brought the spoon to Spike's mouth, popping it in once he opened up for her. It was a little demeaning, but the delicious flavor of the gemstones managed to offset that somewhat. These had to be the most scrumptious gemstones he's ever had the pleasure of tasting; a fact which came as little surprise, considering that if anyone would know where to find the tastiest gems, it would be a town of dragons. The spoon slid out of his mouth with a little pop, leaving him blushing as Celia chuckled. He'd barely finished the gems in his mouth when another spoonful was presented, and he opened up with a bit less resistance than before. This wasn't so bad. He'd seen grown ponies spoonfeed each other here and there. One time wouldn't hurt, as long as he asserted himself about other things. It wasn't long before the plate of gems was finished. Spike reached for the cup of juice, but Celia once again reached for it at the same time. This time, she offered no resistance to his attempt to do things for himself, smiling lightly and letting him take it. Spike nodded in silent appreciation before lifting the cup to his lips. The juice was crisp and delicious, although the frustration from only getting little drops thanks to the sippy cup lid was palpable. He glanced up at Celia once or twice as he drank, noticing the caring gaze that she kept on him the entire time. Despite not wanting to be in this position, he had to admit that she would probably be a good mom to an actual whelp of her own. She certainly had a tender side to her, albeit one he didn't want directed towards him. "Is my little whelp's belly all full?" Celia asked, reaching forward to give Spike's belly a poke with a single talon. The surprise caused him to cough up a bit of juice. "Spitting up?" Celia asked, a bemused grin on her face. "It was out of surprise and nothing more!" Spike quickly insisted. Celia chuckled and reached out for him. "Let's get you all nice and cozy in bed, hm?" the dragoness said as she lifted Spike up, then set him on the floor. "Bed?" Spike asked. It was only then that he noticed the lack of windows in both the nursery and the dining room. With no access to the outside world, he had no idea what time it was, and the fact that his sleeping through the flight here left him not knowing how long it took to get here didn't help matters. "Bed," Celia repeated, clearing the table as she spoke. "Growing whelps like you need their sleep, and all good whelps are in bed by 8:00." Spike wasn't sure what upset him more: the fact that he was still being forced into an 8:00 bedtime, or the fact that Twilight's idea of an appropriate bedtime for him fell in line with those of a species who still regarded him as an infant. If he got home–when he got home–he would have to bring that up to Twilight. Spike looked up as he felt Celia's claw take a hold of his. He had considered trying to bolt and find his way out even despite not knowing where he was, but Celia's protective grip on his hand was too strong for him to break. Given the choice between walking with her or being dragged or picked up and carried, Spike chose the least embarrassing of the bunch. At least it gave him some modicum of independence. Spike was led by the hand back to the nursery. Once again, he committed as much of the path to memory as he could, although some of the paths seemed different from before, leaving him hoping that he'd been taken on a different path, rather than it being a case of him forgetting. He took a look around the room, sighing at all the childish decorations and deciding to take a shot. "Are all the decorations here really necessary?" Spike asked, disappointed with himself as he accidentally let a yawn slip through. "Do you not like them?" Celia asked. "They're some of my favorite characters from when I was your age." "I mean I guess some of them look kinda cool and all," Spike conceded. "I kinda like that astronaut guy." "Spaceman Spines!" Celia said, giggling happily. "Oh, he was my favorite! Would you like me to read you one of his stories?" "You're probably going to do it no matter how I answer, aren't you?" Spike asked. "Yes!" Celia said cheerfully. Spike found himself lifted up once again, kissed on the forehead another time, and then deposited back in the crib. Spike sighed and rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time since he'd woken up here. He tried to wriggle away as Celia reached down to tuck him in, but she was able to corral his movements long enough to make sure he was nice and snug under the blanket. "I promise you'll like this one," Celia said as she pulled a book from the nearby shelf. "It's called Spaceman Spines Versus the Great Galloping Gizmopony." Spike reflected on everything he'd been through as he reluctantly listened to the story, carefully considering his course of action once he was able to make it home. Sure, Celia was a whackjob who had kidnapped him, hated ponies for some reason, and was trying to force him to be her child. But at the same time, she did seem like a very kind, caring dragon when it came to dealing with her own kind. Maybe he'd talk to Twilight about finding her a different baby dragon to adopt, one who didn't already have a family and friends to be taken away from. Sure, it would probably take a good amount of talking to convince Twilight not to go ape on her for kidnapping him, but he'd done more difficult things in the past. As sweet as she was, though, and as much as Spike felt like trying to help her once he was free, that did not mean that he had any intentions of staying here with her any longer than he had to. He vowed to himself to continue trying his hardest to convince her to let him go. Allowing her to spoonfeed him and read him this story might have been missteps, but they would not be repeated. He had two more days until Twilight got home, and if he had anything to do with it, he would be home and enjoying his freedom by the time she arrived. "The end," Celia finished. She smiled down at Spike expectantly. "What did you think?" "Uh...it was good?" Spike offered. He didn't want to admit that he had tuned out most of it. "It's okay," Celia said with a wink. "I know you're sleepy, and it's hard to focus on a story when your body wants its rest." She set the book back on the shelf before turning back to him. "Now, there's one more thing before you go to bed." "What?" Spike asked. "Well," Celia answered. "It's a dragon tradition to make a wish before one goes to bed. That way, if we're fortunate enough, hopefully Bahamut will hear it and grant it." "Bahamut?" Spike asked. Celia looked shocked. "...I have a lot to teach you about your kind," Celia said with a shake of her head. "But we'll save that for tomorrow. For now, let's concentrate on our wishes. I'll start!" She smiled sweetly down at Spike. "I wish for my sweet little Small Scale to grow up nice and strong for his Mommy. What do you wish for?" Her smile was so kind and genuine that Spike almost felt bad giving his answer. "I wish I could go home." Sure enough, he noticed the twinge of sadness in Celia's eyes. However guilty he felt about upsetting her, though, it was just the way it had to be. As quickly as the sorrow entered her eyes, it faded. "You are home, sweetheart," Celia said, although some of the energy had left her tone. "See you in the morning. Sleep tight, little one." She gave him one final smile before turning around and blowing out the torches in the room. Spike sighed as he was left alone in the dark. Thankfully, he wasn't afraid of the dark anymore–Celia would have had a field day with that. Left with nothing to do to fix his situation at the present, he closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to come.