//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: Small Scale // by Twinkletail //------------------------------// Spike was still feeling rather down about himself as he was led back into the dining room. After his pitiful roar, there was no way that Celia would ever think him mature enough to not need her doting on him. If he was going to be stuck here for the time being, the very least he could do was get Celia to let up a bit on her treatment of him. He thought about that angle a bit more as he was picked up, brought in for a kiss on the forehead, and set down on the booster seat. It was already obvious that talking to her about going home wasn't going to work since she was so certain he was brainwashed. Perhaps a new approach was necessary at this juncture. As he saw the pancakes and juice that Celia had set out for him, though, he figured it could at least wait until after breakfast. "Now doesn't that look delicious?" Celia asked, giving Spike a warm smile. "Well...yeah, it does," Spike admitted. "Mommy takes good care of her whelp, doesn't she?" Celia asked in a singsongy tone. Spike opted not to answer that one. He reached for the fork set in front of him, then stopped, assuming that Celia would attempt to stop him and feed him herself. He gave her a quizzical look when he noticed the lack of movement from her. "Is something wrong, baby?" Celia asked. "Apart from the obvious?" Spike asked. "No. I just expected you to jump in and try to feed me." "We did agree last night at your insistence that feeding you would be a one-time thing," Celia said with a grin. "But if you'd like Mommy to feed you, I certainly wouldn't object." "No!" Spike quickly insisted. "I can feed myself!" "Very well," Celia responded. "I guess you are a big enough boy for that. But if you ever do want Mommy to feed you again, all you have to do is ask." Spike gave Celia a good, long look. He could tell just how much she wanted to feed him, but here she was, allowing him that freedom just to make him happy. He supposed that other than kidnapping him and making wild assumptions about things that had happened to him, she was a rather nice dragon. He'd just have to make sure to put up more of a fight over other things. "I'm too nice for my own good sometimes..." Spike muttered to himself as he set the fork down and nudged it a little in Celia's direction. "Does my darling Small Scale want his Mommy to feed him after all?" Celia asked, looking absolutely delighted. Spike rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify that with a verbal response. Celia didn't seem to need a response as she picked the fork up and began cutting a piece off of the pancakes. "Heeeere comes the-" Celia began as she moved the fork towards his mouth. "Don't do that," Spike quickly shut her down. "Aw, I was hoping you'd changed your mind about that since last time," Celia said with a giggle. "Very well, my big little man." She held the fork in front of Spike's mouth, who opened up to allow it entrance. The pancakes were good, but didn't taste quite as good as the ones Rarity often made...until he realized that instead of blueberries, there were tiny gems baked into them. Gemstone pancakes...this was something that he could get used to. Not that he wanted to stick around any longer than he had to, but this particular amenity might have been the high point of his predicament so far. Spike was more than happy to open up for another bite, and Celia was more than happy to provide it. Spike raised a brow as he felt Celia's other claw reach behind him and start gently rubbing his back. "Such a good boy," Celia said softly. "And such a good eater too. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if your wings started growing sooner than later." Spike had made it a practice of ignoring Celia's words when they were too motherly, but that last bit permeated his defenses. "What was that about wings?" Spike asked, looking at Celia with wide eyes. "I said I wouldn't be surprised if they started growing soon," Celia repeated. "I'm gonna get wings?" Spike asked, his eyes sparkling. "It saddens me how little your pony captors taught you about dragons..." Celia said, shaking her head. "Some dragons don't have wings as a whelp, but grow them in their adolescence. I can't tell for sure if you will, but your skeletal structure seems to suggest that it's possible." Spike's jaw hung open, and this time it wasn't only to receive more pancakes–although it did also serve that purpose as Celia fed him another forkful. He hadn't even thought of the possibility of growing wings, having figured that if he didn't have them now, he would never have them. He hadn't even known it was possible to grow new limbs, Twilight's special situation notwithstanding. "You're being such a good boy for me today," Celia said as she fed him the last bit of pancake. "You've barely resisted me at all. Are you getting used to the idea of me being your Mommy?" Spike groaned lightly. He needed to keep focused. "You're not my Mommy," Spike said. "Don't get me wrong, you're nice and caring and stuff, but I have my own family in Ponyville that I'd really like to get back to. And while we're at it. I'm kinda tired of being treated like a baby. I mean how many babies do you know that can talk as well as I can?" Spike felt himself puff up with pride. He thought he'd carried himself rather well in that argument. His pride quickly vanished when Celia giggled. "Sweetie, dragons are far more intelligent than the ponies you're used to living with," Celia told him. "Our language skills advance much earlier than theirs." "But..." Spike stammered. "...I'm not even a baby! I'm 10!" "Oh, you silly little thing," Celia said with a grin. "Dragons have much longer lifespans than ponies. To them, you might be more of a young adult, but in the eyes of a dragon, you're still an adorable little whelp." She gave him a pat on the head. "But you're my adorable little whelp, and I'll treat you much better than those terrible ponies ever did." Spike's frustration had nearly reached a fever pitch. He had heard enough slander of the ponies who loved him dearly. "Why do you hate ponies so much anyway?" Spike practically demanded. "What did they ever do to you?" Celia's face grew sullen. She stared into the middle distance silently for a few moments, making Spike grow more than a little concerned. Had ponies actually done something awful to her? But ponies weren't like that...Twilight and the others might have chased that dragon away that one time, but his smoke was threatening to cover Ponyville. It just wasn't like ponies to harm others without good reason. "Never mind that now," Celia finally said, her smile starting to return. "This is supposed to be a happy time, and I'm not looking to dampen the mood." Spike's frustration grew as he was lifted from the booster seat, kissed on the forehead, and then cradled in Celia's arms. "Let's go to the living room and relax, okay? I think you could use some playtime." "I don't want playtime!" Spike insisted, trapped once more in maternal embrace. "Oh, nonsense," Celia said as she began their trip to the living room. "I can tell you're a bit cranky. This will be a good opportunity to unwind and relax." Spike just grumbled as he was carried into the living room. He'd had just about as much as he could take of this. An escape plan needed to be made immediately. "Here we are!" Celia said cheerfully as she set Spike down on another stone floor. As with the previous rooms, all the furniture seemed to be carved out of the ground. Stone couches with soft-looking comforters sat at one end, with a small stone table in front of them. A few books were set out on the table, in more of a pile than a stack. Twilight would have been very disappointed to see books treated that way. Unlike the other rooms he'd been in, this one did have a single window, but it was far too high up for him to ever even dream of reaching it. None of the furniture, not even the tall cabinets, stood anywhere near it. "I've got so many things for you to entertain yourself with, Small Scale," Celia said. "So I'll leave the choice to you. We've got action figures, books to read together, paper and crayons for coloring..." Spike just sat there with his arms crossed. He was in no mood for playtime, and as curious as he was about what kinds of action figures dragons had, he refused to give in to that curiosity and give Celia the satisfaction. He'd sooner just sit here and do nothing than play or read or color. Then suddenly, inspiration struck. "Coloring sounds good," Spike said with a smile. "Okay then!" Celia said, matching his smile as she turned to one of the cabinets and reached inside. "I knew we'd find something to put a smile on your cute little face." Spike watched with satisfaction as Celia set a few pieces of paper and an assortment of crayons in front of him. Little did she know that she'd played right into his trap. "Oh yeah, I love coloring!" Spike said. It wasn't a lie; he did really enjoy drawing. It was more of an omission of the full truth. "Heehee...well, I can't wait to see what you draw for me!" Celia said, patting him on the head again. "Now, Mommy has to take care of a little something in the other room, so why don't you relax and color me a nice picture? I'll be back in about five or ten minutes." "Okay!" Spike answered happily. He even gave Celia a little wave as she left, a gesture she seemed to adore as she waved back. Spike couldn't believe his luck. Celia thankfully didn't know about his special ability, or else she certainly wouldn't have left him in this situation. Brandishing a black crayon, Spike grabbed a piece of paper and began to write. Dear Princess Celestia, It's me, Spike. I've been kidnapped by a dragoness who thinks I've been brainwashed by ponies. She wants to raise me as her child and won't let me go home. I don't know where I am, but it's a dragon city in a mountain range. Please save me! Your friend, Spike Spike hesitated for a moment, then sighed and put his crayon back to the paper. PS: Please don't hurt her. She means well and hasn't harmed me at all. Satisfied with the letter, Spike rolled it up and lifted it to his mouth. One quick spurt of green flame vaporized the letter, sending it to its destination. Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Surely it would only be a matter of time until Celestia or somepony else sent by her would be there to save him. "All done!" Celia's voice rang out as she walked back into the room. "Now let's see what my sweet little whelp drew for me, hm? And then we can have a bit of story time before lunch, and I'll feed you because I already know how much you like it when Mommy feeds you..." Spike frowned. His conscience was free from guilt thanks to the extra note he'd left on the bottom of his letter to Celestia. Between that and the frustration building up from the whole ordeal, he figured it was about time to let Celia know just how he felt about his treatment. "Enough!" Spike shouted, loud enough to startle Celia. "I'm not your baby, and I never will be!" Celia looked a bit taken aback by this, even a bit sad, but Spike was far beyond the point of letting his sympathy allow him to back down. "Now Small Scale..." Celia began, but Spike was quick to cut her off. "My name is Spike!" Spike demanded, pointing the crayon he was still holding in her direction. "And you're not my Mommy! The ponies back home are my family, not you!" "That's just the brainwashing talking, honey..." Celia said. "No!" Spike yelled. "No one brainwashed me! The only one who looks like they're trying to brainwash me is you!" "What?" Celia said, clearly stunned by this. "I would never..." "You keep trying to fill my head with the idea that ponies are bad!" Spike seethed. "But they're not! If anyone is bad, it's you for kidnapping me and not listening to anything I say and trying to turn me against my family!" "But my child, please..." Celia started. "I'm not your child!" Spike screamed. "You don't have a child!" Spikes last scream was loud enough to rattle some of the picture frames on the tallest cabinet. Other than that, the entire room fell deathly silent. Spike steamed, breathing heavily as he glared at Celia. He was ready for any angry reaction that she was going to give him. No matter what she did, he knew he would be free soon enough. What Spike was not ready for, though, was the reaction that Celia actually had. The dragoness stood stone silent for a good few moments, until the sound of a small sniffle permeated through the stillness. She bit her lip, tears starting to fill her eyes. Every bit of Spike's bravado vanished the moment he saw the first tear fall. "...Celia?" Spike asked quietly. Celia didn't answer. She simply turned around and walked out the door. The sounds of sobs followed her until the sound of a door slamming down the corridor cut it off. Spike stood still, positively stunned. His right claw's grip on the crayon weakened, the tool of his eventual rescue tumbling to the ground below. His shoulders slumped, the motion echoed by his head. He knew he was right. But then why did he feel so wrong?