//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Small Scale // by Twinkletail //------------------------------// "Good morning!" Rarity smiled warmly to Opal as she skittered into the room. Opal was always up before Rarity; not a surprise, considering the typical sleeping habits of cats. As such, Rarity often began her mornings by feeding Opal as soon as she got out of bed. Self-maintenance was important, but care for her little darling was even more so. "My my, but you're an eager little ball of fur this morning, aren't you?" Rarity sang as the often-grumpy feline rubbed against her foreleg. "I suppose I am getting a bit of a late start this morning. Terribly sorry for making you wait!" She hesitated, then smirked as she opened the can of cat food. "Goodness, listen to me. I'm talking to a cat like she's going to answer me. Perhaps Pinkie was right about needing time to become a crazy cat lady. What do you think, Opal?" Opal meowed in response, eyes focused on the can. Whether or not she understood the questions posed to her was unclear. Food came first and foremost in the cat's mind. "Is this what you want, Opal?" Rarity asked as she held the bowl of food up, knowing the answer to this quite well already. Opal let out an annoyed little mrowl, sick of the lack of food that Rarity's little game was forcing on her. Rarity giggled lightly and set the bowl down, giving Opal a gentle pet as she instantly began eating. "I suppose I might as well prepare my own breakfast too," Rarity mused to herself. She immediately set to work on making blueberry pancakes. Such a fatty food was probably not the best choice for her diet, but Rarity had been quite good recently, and could afford a bit of cheating. She hummed a gentle melody to herself as she prepared her breakfast, stomach rumbling in anticipation. It wasn't terribly long before the enchanting scent of breakfast filled the air, and Rarity prepared her dish with the same level of fervor as Opal had attacked her food. Rarity might not have been as good a chef as her dear friend Pinkie, but she could fry a mean stack of pancakes. She thanked her lucky stars that Sweetie Belle wasn't staying with her as she began eating. Not for a lack of desire to share–she would have been more than happy to oblige–but more because a lack of company meant that she didn't have to worry about table manners quite as much. She ate at a fever pace, something she never would have done if even a single set of eyes other than Opal's was upon her. "Delectable," Rarity sighed happily as she finished the last of the stack of pancakes she'd served herself. "I don't think I could eat another bite." She glanced over at the small stack of pancakes remaining on a dish on the counter. Her eyes had clearly been larger than her stomach this morning. "Now what shall I do with the rest of these pancakes..." Rarity asked nopony in particular. "I can't just waste them, and leftover pancakes don't sound very appetizing." She hummed to herself, tapping her chin with a hoof. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with inspiration. "Oh! I'll bring them to Spike!" ~~~~~~~~~~ "Rise and shine, Small Scale!" Spike groaned as Celia's voice calling his fake name woke him up. He wasn't sure if he was ready for another day of being coddled. In fact, he was sure that he wasn't ready for it. Celia had seemed to let up on him a little bit from the way she was immediately upon waking up, and even seemed willing to give him a tiny bit of input on decisions. That tiny bit wasn't nearly enough, though, and she still managed to make him feel guilty about it with those sad looks she'd give him. That guilt might have been more frustrating than anything. He had no good reason to feel guilty. He was kidnapped from his hometown, taken from his friends and family by a crazy dragoness with an overactive mothering instinct. No combination of those things should have allowed him to feel bad for her. And yet it still managed to happen. He was far too empathetic for his own good sometimes. Spike was startled out of his train of thought by talons scooping under his arms. Celia had somehow snuck up on him, despite her rather large size advantage. As seemed to be the regular for being picked up, he was first brought to Celia's face for a kiss on the forehead. He squirmed a bit, but otherwise tolerated it. Compared to the other things she was doing to baby him, a kiss on the forehead here and there was nothing. "I normally sleep later than this," Celia said as she cradled Spike in her arms. "But I couldn't sleep another moment knowing that I was missing out on time with my darling Small Scale. Did you miss your Mommy, too?" "I miss my real home," Spike responded. He didn't try to squirm out of her hold, knowing how far a fall he had. He didn't like doing it, but for now, he stayed still in her arms. That sad look appeared once again in Celia's face, but she let it go. "Well, I got a letter today that said the shaman will be home tomorrow," Celia told him. "So once we cure you of that nasty brainwashing, hopefully you'll be a little happier about this. Until then, I'll just have to keep showering you with affection and hope it takes!" Spike frowned heavily at that. He did not like the sound of this shaman in the slightest. He knew he wasn't brainwashed, but from all of Celia's talk, it sounded like this shaman was likely to do the brainwashing. He had to figure out an escape route fast. He'd worry about finding a route back to Ponyville when the need arose, but for now finding a way out of this cave was top priority. "Come on, then," Celia said, placing Spike on the ground next to her. "We're going outside." "Outside?" Spike asked. "Really?" It seemed far too good to be true. Was she really bringing him out and letting him go? "Really," Celia responded. "It's time for our morning roar." "Morning roar...?" Spike asked, looking more confused than before. Celia rolled her eyes slightly. "I know I want you to grow up big and strong like your new Mommy, but that doesn't mean you have to repeat everything I say," Celia said playfully. "Yes, our morning roar to Bahamut." "Who is Bahamut?" Spike asked, making sure not to just repeat her this time. "I shouldn't be surprised at this point by how little your pony captors taught you about dragon culture," Celia said with a shake of her head. "Come now, follow Mommy outside." She reached out and took his claw again. As irritated as he was to be treated like this, a part of him couldn't help but be a bit intrigued about the mention of dragon culture. He had looked through Twilight's library once in the past when he felt a sudden urge to learn more about dragons, but there was a surprising lack of material on them. If anything good was to come out of this, he supposed that an opportunity to learn more about his kind was welcome. Celia began walking, and given the strong grip she had on his claw, Spike didn't have much choice but to walk along with her. "Bahamut is the king of all dragons," Celia explained in a gentle tone as the two walked along the winding corridors. "Much like those ponies that captured you have their Queen Celestia, we have King Bahamut." "Uh, actually, she's a Princess," Spike offered. "And there are three more-" "Sweetie, I don't mean to stifle you," Celia said. "But I'm not interested in hearing about those monsters and their royalty." "They're not monsters," Spike insisted, trying to pull his hand away. Celia only tightened her grip in response, smiling softly to him. "Please don't try to pull away, honey," Celia said. "I guess I'll apologize for insulting them if it'll make you happy, but I have my reasons for feeling how I do." "What are they?" Spike asked. There was a long pause as Celia stopped walking. Spike noticed the halting a moment too late, walking right into Celia's legs. "Please be careful, sweetheart," Celia told him. "And I don't really want to talk about that right now. Maybe when you're older. Now come along." She resumed walking, Spike sighing as he followed. Spike felt a large amount of relief as he began to notice daylight further down the corridor. It had been a while since he saw daylight, and it was quite a welcome sight. Then he found himself cursing mentally, as his distraction had caused him to not pay enough attention to the path they'd taken. He swore to pay more attention as they headed back. It couldn't have been too complicated, after all. "Isn't it beautiful?" Celia asked as she pointed at the sun. "Every morning, King Bahamut's will raises the sun to shine light upon his subjects. His benevolence keeps us warm and sustains us, and it's a tradition for his subjects to greet him and his sun with a roar in thanks." "But Princess Celestia raises the sun," Spike said quietly. "That's what she wants you to think," Celia said simply. "I've seen the show she's put on at the ponies' little summer celebration. It's an act to make her subjects think that she's doing the work that King Bahamut is really doing." She noticed Spike's frown and sighed, shaking her head. "Never mind all that talk. All you need to know is that it's considered good luck for dragons to roar to the sun as the first thing they do each day. I'll go first, then you. Okay?" Spike gave Celia a cock-eyed look. The rhetoric she'd just gone through seemed like propaganda to him, but he supposed he could just agree to a roar to placate her. Besides, it was a seemingly harmless thing that dragons apparently did as a tradition, and he was a dragon. "Alright, I guess," Spike said. Celia beamed and patted him on the head, then turned to face the sun. She took a deep breath, then unleashed a tremendous and terrifying roar, loud enough to make the ground beneath him shake. It was this moment that Spike took to survey the surrounding area. Mountains stood in every direction, and each mountainside looked to have numerous caves carved into them. Spike couldn't even fathom how many dragons were likely to be living here, nor did he have a single clue where "here" was. The mountain range didn't look the least bit familiar to him. "Your turn, little one," Celia said, gently rubbing his head. "Let's hear your best roar!" Spike grinned a little. Celia had been treating him like such a baby all this time. If he could give a loud roar and show how strong and mature he was, maybe she would reconsider things. One nice, loud roar could potentially change his entire fortune. With his confidence at an all-time high, Spike took the deepest breath he could manage. Lungs filled with air, he reared back, then let go. His roar was...sub-par, to say the least. In truth, it probably sounded more like the yell of a petulant child than the fearsome roar he'd been hoping for. "How adorable!" Celia cooed. "Don't worry, that's normal for a baby dragon. Once you grow up big and strong, you'll roar more like Mommy." Spike felt utterly defeated as his roar had the exact opposite effect than what he'd hoped. He'd just cemented himself further in Celia's eyes as a whelp that needed her care. His gaze fell over his surroundings, wondering which path led out of the village and which way he would have to go to get back to Ponyville. Before he knew it, Celia was holding his claw once more. "Let's go have some breakfast, alright?" Celia said. Spike sighed softly. He was hungry. Plans for escape could at least wait until after breakfast, he thought as he was led by the hand back inside.