A female dragon mistakes Spike for an abandoned hatchling.
Spike's got three whole days to himself while Twilight is away at the Crystal Empire. Three whole days to be independent and free to do whatever he wants.
Or he would have, if a female dragon hadn't mistaken him for an abandoned hatchling. Now he's been snatched up and taken to her home to be "properly cared for."
Stuck in a cave with an overly-protective dragon intent on mothering him...maybe he should have just gone with Twilight.
It was absolutely unprecedented, something the likes of which a baby dragon like him had never experienced. To others, three days might have seemed like a minuscule span of time, but to Spike in this specific situation, three days was an eternity, a stretch of temporal bliss with no end in sight. Or at least he didn't want an end to be in sight...but for the moment, the end that he didn't want to think about was far, far away, and he had far, far better things to think about. He could hardly be concerned about something that was three whole days away when he had the prospect of an entire castle to himself weighing pleasantly on his mind.
Three whole days of doing whatever he wanted. Three whole days of no imposed bedtimes. Three whole days of not having to do chores. Three whole days of no Twilight.
Spike felt guilty as that last thought went through his head. He loved Twilight, he really did. She would take an arrow to the chest for him, and he knew he would do the same–not that either situation ever arose, nor did either of them want it to. As much as he cared for her, though, he had to admit that she had a way of being a bit...well, "overbearing" was probably the word for it, although that word didn't quite encapsulate just how overbearing she could be.
Twilight always made sure to claim that everything she did was done for his benefit, but it was often hard to really believe that. Sleeping was important, but Twilight's insistence on an 8:00 bedtime for Spike felt ludicrous and arbitrary. Any dragon who was mature enough to know the words "ludicrous" and "arbitrary" had no reason to be shackled into an 8:00 bedtime, even if he'd only recently learned those words from seeing them in a comic book and asking Twilight for their definitions. That was only one of many, many rules that Spike had to deal with while Twilight was around. And the chores...the neverending chores. Spike had rearranged the books in the library so many times that he would have probably memorized the titles of every book in the place, had he cared enough to not only pay attention to them but retain the information as well.
Spike loved Twilight. He really, really did. But he also loved freedom, and for three whole days, freedom was exactly what he was going to have.
"You're sure you'll be alright, Spike?" Twilight asked, her eyes filled with worry. "It's not too late to come with me. I'm sure Shining Armor and Cadence won't mind! They could always use another set of claws around the castle now that they're so busy with Flurry Heart, and I'm sure the little princess would love to spend time with her cousin!"
Spike couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit, although he made sure to do it while facing away from Twilight. It was always nice to be spoken of as family, but her tone had come off as a bit too motherly for him. Plus, with the way she said it, going with her would just mean doing chores in a different setting. With freedom this close, throwing it all away was out of the question.
"I'll be fine, Twilight," Spike assured her. "I can always see Flurry Heart another time. Besides, you don't know how excited I am to have this time to myself."
"Based on how much you've been talking about it this past week, I think I do," Twilight said, giving Spike a playful smirk. Her smile was quick to fade as she let out a soft sigh. "It's just that...well, it's rare that we're apart for that long. I'll miss you, Spike."
Spike smiled a sad little smile. Independence was important to him, important enough that nothing would take him away from this little taste of it. That didn't mean he was callous to Twilight's feelings, though. He was quick to move forward and give Twilight a hug, smiling as he felt her foreleg curl around him and give him a squeeze.
"I'll miss you too, Twilight," Spike said. "But I'll be fine, I promise." He gave her chest a little nuzzle, taking a moment to reflect upon just how ponylike that behavior was. He didn't know much about what it was like to be raised by dragons, but based on the gruff nature of every other dragon he'd come across, nuzzling probably wasn't a common practice amongst them. He was sure they had to show affection somehow, but it probably wasn't like that.
"I'm sure you will be," Twilight said, leaning down to give his forehead a kiss. Spike wasn't sure about the verity of her comment, but at the very least, her sentiment was certainly genuine.
"I've left plenty of food for you," Twilight said as she picked her bags up and draped them across her back. "And I've bought you a few new comic books for if you get bored. They're in the bedroom on my nighttable. If you need anything at all, the girls will all be around for the most part, so feel free to visit any of them. And if something incredibly urgent comes up, you can always send a letter to Princess Celestia, although you should only do that if it's a real emergency that the girls can't help with."
Spike slowly began to zone out as Twilight went on. It was just like Twilight to plan for every single situation. Prattling on like this was nowhere near new or unexpected for her, nor was losing focus during it for him. The gentle hoof poke to the forehead to regain his attention came as no surprise.
"I was listening, I promise!" Spike insisted. Twilight shook her head and chuckled lightly.
"Of course you were," Twilight said. "Do dragons typically droop their heads and gradually close their eyes when they're listening intently?" Spike blushed lightly. He already knew he'd been caught in the act, but having it pointed out to him was a bit more embarrassing.
"That's my...eager face?" Spike offered.
"Very funny, Spike," Twilight said. She was clearly attempting to look serious, although she couldn't stop a small grin from gracing her facade. Then she glanced up at the clock, frowning slightly. "I have to go catch my train. You promise you'll be fine?"
"For the hundredth time, I'll be fine," Spike replied.
"Let's be fair, Spike," Twilight said. "It was 50 times at most." She smiled and gave Spike another hug. "I'll see you in three days, okay? I love you."
"Heh...love you too, Twilight," Spike said, smiling warmly up to her. "Have fun on your trip! Tell everypony I said hi! Oh, and if you could bring a few of those delicious Crystal Empire gems home for me..."
"I will," Twilight assured him as she let go of the hug and turned to exit. Spike waved as he watched her depart, not lowering his claw until the door had closed. As much as he wanted to have this time to himself, he couldn't deny that he would miss having Twilight around for these three whole days. Missing her, though, would not stop him from enjoying this newfound independence.
~~~~~~~~~~
Spike rarely got the chance to just lie down outside and enjoy the sun. He often found himself far too busy with this, that, or the other thing to just relax and enjoy the simple pleasures that basking had to offer. This was obviously not the case today. While many his age might have gone with a more exciting first activity in their period of freedom and independence, Spike was smarter that that. Doing the most exciting things possible right off the bat would leave him with less to look forward to for the remainder of these three whole days. Younger Spike might have been foolhardy enough to fall into that trap, but this Spike was wise enough to kick the festivities off with an unexciting-yet-absolutely-refreshing activity. Perhaps spending so much time around the ruthlessly-efficient scheduler that was Twilight Sparkle had rubbed off on him.
It didn't take very long to find the perfect basking rock. Or rather, it didn't take very long today. In truth, it had taken him a good while last week when he'd first gone searching for one shortly after receiving news of his upcoming freedom. He'd considered basking right then and there when he decided on the nice flat rock he'd found just outside the Whitetail Woods, but to do so would have sullied the special moment that awaited him today when he returned. Besides, he would have only had a couple of minutes that day before having to return to the castle. Today's basking could last for three whole days if he really wanted it to. Not that he did; he had plenty of other things he wanted to do. But it was a nice thought.
Spike sighed happily as he lay down on the flat rock. It was as if the rock had been perfectly tailored for maximum basking potential. Its smooth surface made for a most comfortable recline, and its gray was just dark enough to absorb the perfect amount of sunlight and heat it up just right. Had other dragons lived in Ponyville, this spot certainly would have been claimed by now. As Spike splayed out upon the rock's surface, he found himself thanking his lucky stars for that fact.
Normally, Spike wasn't quite that happy about a lack of other dragons in Ponyville. He'd come to love living around ponies, but he often thought about how nice it would be to have some other dragons to relate to, dragons who would help him keep in touch with his instincts and really teach him what it was like to be a dragon. He had tried once to commune with them a while back, but those were teenage dragons. They probably weren't exactly the best examples of what typical dragons were like. Spike would hope every so often that a friendly new dragon would move to Ponyville, but right now he was happy for the lack of competition. Maybe some day he'd find a nice dragon who could teach him the ways of his kind, but for now, as he slowly succumbed to a warm, peaceful nap, he figured he could wait.
Had Spike's eyes still been open, he likely would have noticed the large shadow that was fast approaching. Although there was a fair chance that he would have noticed the giant figure flapping through the skies first. Which he would have noticed first was an entirely moot point, however, as the deep slumber he had fallen into negated any chance of noticing either. Had this not been the case, he likely would have been excited to see another dragon, for that was precisely what was flying overhead at this very moment.
The large dragon's graceful form flapped through the skies of Ponyville, taking in the various sights and sounds around her. Her purple scales glistened in the sunlight, the wind blowing through her pink spines as she harshly judged various facets of the town beneath her. Pony towns were all so bothersome. Their homes were far too garish and overblown for her tastes. Everything ponies did had to be unnecessarily complicated. Maybe one day, they would learn to appreciate the simplicity of caves. Until then, they would likely continue to build their colorful little eyesores everywhere they went. If that was her only grievance with ponies, life would have been a lot easier. If only that were the case.
The dragon continued her flight over the small town, her slender form blotting out the sun's rays as she went. She soon found her flight impeded, however, by a peculiar sight on the ground. She found herself doubling back to make sure her eyes hadn't been playing tricks on her. After all, her shadow had been casting that particular spot in darkness. It was entirely possible that she had been mistaken. As she hovered in place, her new vantage point casting the rocks beneath her in sunlight once more, her eyes confirmed the sight they'd tried to convince her of earlier. There, on the flattest rock of the bunch–she would have considered it a perfect basking rock had her mind not been elsewhere–lay a little baby dragon.
Had she not seen it with her own two eyes, she never would have believed it. What was a baby dragon doing in a town of ponies? Dragons and ponies didn't make a habit of coexisting–thankfully, considering the experiences she'd had and heard about other dragons having with ponykind. Every pony she'd ever met had reacted to her with fear, violence, or a combination of the two. The baby dragon seemed to be in no immediate danger, but it was entirely possible that he'd managed himself a moment of respite before the townsponies found him again.
The dragon flew in a bit closer for a better look. He was certainly not a hatchling, but he was still quite young. How such a young dragon had ended up here was unknown to her, but she shuddered to think of the possibilities. Perhaps one of their kind had stolen an egg from a nest? Or perhaps they had hurt a grown dragon and stolen its child? Maybe the whelp had escaped an attack that had left its parents injured, and had retreated here to hopefully avoid the ponies' watch?
The grown dragon felt instincts kicking in, instincts that she hadn't felt in a very long time. It was a crazy idea...but the thought of leaving the baby in the hooves of ponies who would look to do him harm was too much for her to bear. She began her gradual descent towards the whelp, well aware of how large and visible she was but hoping that nopony was nearby to catch sight of her. Once she was within claw's reach, she gently leaned in towards the whelp. Careful talons snuck under the prone baby dragon's body, trying to take him without jostling him from his nap. Once the child was secure in her grip, she brought him close to her body, holding him tightly yet comfortably against the scales on her chest. Confident in the good deed she was doing for dragonkind and ready to take on the responsibility inherent in her decision, she flapped her powerful wings, lifting back into the skies.
The dragon's heart skipped a beat as she realized she'd gotten away with it. Her town would consider her a hero for her efforts, but that didn't matter to her. All that really mattered was the well-being of the whelp, still sleeping soundly in her grasp.
"Don't worry, little one," the dragon whispered to her slumbering passenger. "I'll keep you safe."
He'd had no idea that the rock he'd chosen to bask in would work quite this well. Had he been awake, he likely would have vowed on the spot to never underestimate a rock again. Pinkie's sister Maud would have appreciated that vow. Perhaps he'd ask Pinkie to write a letter to her later about his newfound appreciation for all things sedimentary. Unless this one was metamorphic...or even igneous? Rocks weren't really his strong suit. Except for a knack for choosing good basking rocks, apparently.
Spike would think more about those things when he woke up. For now, he was quite happy with the dream he was having. In this dream, the warmth of his basking rock was helping to paint the picture of a vast beach. A lush, picturesque beach, littered with all the amenities a baby dragon like him could ask for. A pit of gemstones lay a scant few feet from his reclining spot, full to the brim with only the most delectable of delights. The comic store stood tall on the boardwalk, boasting multiple copies of every single variant cover he'd missed out on collecting as well as a few new ones with himself featured prominently. And standing above him, dressed in a cute little bikini that managed to be very modest and very alluring at the same time, was Rarity, smiling sweetly down to him between feeding him some of those gemstones.
"Oh Spikey-Wikey," Rarity cooed. "I'm so very lucky to be married to a strong, handsome dragon like yourself."
"No way, Rarity," Spike responded with a grin. "I'm the lucky one." He beamed as his response caused Rarity to swoon. A happy sigh escaped his lips as he listened to the crashing of the ocean's waves against the shore. They didn't sound quite like waves, and it was odd how they were spaced so evenly, but it didn't concern him.
"I love you, Spikey-Wikey," Rarity said softly, before leaning in and hugging him. Her cheek pressed against his, but it didn't feel anything like he'd remembered. The soft feeling of her coat was gone, replaced with a strange scaly sensation. Rarity was not scaly; the litany of facial creams she used would never allow it.
Spike woke with a start as his dream came crashing down around him. Despite having woken up, he could still hear the crashing waves, although they were beginning to sound more like the flapping of a large pair of wings. And the scaly sensation still pressed against his cheek, joined by the feeling of something equally scaly gripping him tightly. He tried to turn his head to see what was going on, but his slightest movement caused the grip around him to tighten protectively.
"Wh...what's going on...?" Spike asked groggily.
"Are you awake, little one?" a gentle feminine voice boomed, sending vibrations rumbling against Spike's face. "Don't fret. Just relax. We're almost home."
"Home...?" Spike asked, still quite hazy from his sleep. "But I was..."
"Shh..." the voice cooed. Then it began humming a soft, soothing lullaby. The humming sent vibrations through Spike's entire body. Spike was concerned about what was going on, but the combination of the lullaby, the relaxing vibrations, and his already-prevalent sleepiness was too much, and he was soon asleep once more.
~~~~~~~~~~
Spike wasn't sure quite how long he'd slept for. He remembered passing out on his rock, then having the dream about the beach, then the weird one with the voice talking about going home, and then another cool one about being an astronaut. He clearly must have been asleep for a good long while if he had time for all those dreams, although time did seem to work differently in the dream world. As he woke with a yawn, he made a mental note to ask Princess Luna about that whenever he saw her next.
The first thing Spike noticed was that he very much was not still on his basking rock. Barring a complete change in the world's properties that rendered rocks soft and squishy, he had clearly been moved to some manner of bed. This was something that he was used to; Twilight would often move him to his bed if he fell asleep somewhere else in the castle. With both Twilight and the castle out of the picture, this became far more problematic. Not that his new resting place wasn't comfortable–quite the opposite, really–but the method of his relocation rose a few red flags.
Spike opened his eyes slowly, wondering why he hadn't done so already. To say that the sights around him were unexpected was akin to saying that Twilight occasionally read a book or two. Gray stone walls outlined the room he found himself in, illuminated by small torches with flames contained by glass jars. Various childish decorations adorned said walls; pictures of cartoon characters–primarily dragons–that he didn't recognize, dressed as cowboys and astronauts. A certain scent, strange yet pleasant and somewhat familiar, hung in the air as he observed his surroundings through the off-white bars in front of him.
Why were there off-white bars in front of him?
Spike sat up with a start, looking left and right frantically. It didn't take him very long to realize that he was sitting in a large crib. The relief of his brief fear that he'd been thrown in jail for sleeping on some manner of protected rock being quelled didn't last very long. Where was he, and why was he in a crib? He quickly rose to his feet, trying to reach the top of the crib's side. Even with the highest leap he could muster, though, he couldn't reach it. He tried grabbing the bars and climbing up, but they were far too smooth to grip well. He yelped as his talons slipped from the bars, falling with a pomf back onto the soft crib bottom. He thanked his lucky stars for that comfy padding as he rubbed his back. The fall had stunned him a bit, but could have hurt much more if it wasn't quite so soft.
"Is everything okay?"
There was the voice from his strange dream again, this time accompanied by the sounds of clawed feet frantically clattering across stone. Spike's jaw dropped as he watched the form of a huge dragoness enter the room through the open doorway. Her huge, yet slender frame took up most of the doorway, the light from the closest torch bouncing off her purple scales. So shocked was Spike that he didn't even have time to react as the dragoness zipped up to the crib, her talons reaching down and scooping under his armpits. He quickly found himself held tightly against the pink scales on the dragoness' underside, recognizing the feeling from what he had earlier thought to be a dream, yet somehow felt far more real now.
"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" the dragoness asked. Spike felt himself pulled away from the hug and effortlessly shifted around until he found himself on his back, cradled in the dragoness' arms. He felt terribly vulnerable in this position, a feeling which was not helped when one of the dragoness' talons snuck up and began tickling his belly. Spike tried valiantly to power through it, but he couldn't help how ticklish he was, and soon found himself squirming and giggling in the dragoness' arms.
"Such a darling little whelp," the dragoness cooed. Spike found himself lifted up to her face and blushed profusely as she kissed him on the forehead. "Let's figure out a nice name for you, hm?"
"What?" Spike asked. "I have a name...it's Spike." He tried to wriggle out of the dragoness' grip, but it was no use, and he quickly found himself moved again and cradled once more.
"Oh?" The dragoness asked, looking somewhat amused. "I suppose that's not a terrible name, but I can do better. Besides, that name just drips of..." She sneered. "...Pony."
"What's wrong with ponies?" Spike asked. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about the change in the dragoness' tone. For her part, the dragoness looked at him with just as much confusion.
"Oh, silly whelp," she said, giving his belly another poke. "You've been trapped with them and their dirty lies for your entire life, haven't you?"
"What are you talking about?" Spike asked, frowning a bit.
"Don't you fret, little whelp," the dragoness said with a smile, one claw scratching under his chin. "You're safe from them now.
"What do you mean?" Spike asked, panic beginning to enter his voice. "Who are you? Where am I?"
"Such an inquisitive child!" the dragoness giggled. "My name is Celia, but you can call me Mommy. And this is your new home."
Spike's efforts to escape from Celia's grasp redoubled, but she was far too strong for him, and he soon found himself hugged close to her body once more, her arms long and strong enough to hold his arms and legs still.
"Why are you struggling, little one?" Celia asked, looking genuinely confused. "I promise I'll take good care of you and help you grow into a strong, handsome dragon." Spike tried to speak, but his response was muffled by the scales on Celia's chest. She giggled softly and pulled him back, peering down at him. "Could you repeat that?"
"I have a home already!" Spike insisted, making another ill-fated attempt to struggle from her grasp. "And you took me from it!" Celia stared at the squirming baby dragon for a few moments, then shook her head.
"Goodness," Celia said, returning Spike to a cradled position. "Those ponies and their terrible magics...they've really brainwashed you good, haven't they?" She began to gently rock Spike in her arms, humming softly. "Don't worry. Once our shaman gets back from his trip, we'll work on dispelling those nasty hexes."
"What? No!" Spike argued. "They didn't brainwash me! I've lived with them all my life! They love me and I love them!" He wriggled about, making a gameplan to roll out of Celia's arms and to the ground below. Once he got a good look at how high up he was, he quickly decided against that plan, begrudgingly tolerating the rocking. As irritating as this whole situation was, he wasn't exactly uncomfortable like this, at least not physically.
"That's what they want you to think, sweetheart," Celia said, shaking her head sadly. "Ponykind seems to have some kind of vendetta against us dragons. Why, I had a friend who went off to hibernate and happened to do so near the town I found you in. And do you know what happened to him? A group of ponies accosted him, kicked him in the nose, and then bullied him until he cried and flew off!"
"It's true!" Celia insisted. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were brainwashing you and raising you as a weapon to try and fight us off! But don't you worry your scaly little head. Mommy's here, and she'll keep you away from the bad ponies and give you a wonderful life." Spike was raised close to her face once more and tolerated another kiss, this one on his cheek.
"But you're-" Spike started, but he was shushed by a single talon pushing against his lips.
"Shhh," Celia cooed. "Mommy knows you think you like the ponies. We'll take care of that when our shaman comes back next week. Now, about that name..." She hummed to herself. "You might not know this since you were apparently living with ponies all your life, but dragons have one name when they're young and a new name when they get older. So we need a nice, adorable name for a nice, adorable whelp...oh, how about Small Scale? You're small, and you...have scales." She smiled sheepishly. "This is why my siblings didn't let me name our pets."
"But my name is..." Spike tried to protest.
"Your name is Small Scale," Celia said. "And you're Mommy's sweet little whelp." She smiled and set Spike back down in the crib. "Now I'm sure I have some diapers around here somewhere..."
"No way!" Spike quickly objected. "I'm toilet trained, I swear!" The sheer embarrassment of even having to utter that sentence was not lost on him as his cheeks colored. Celia hummed softly to herself again, looking him over.
"Well...I'll take your word for it now, Small Scale," Celia said sweetly. "But if you have an accident in your crib, you'll be wearing them until I'm sure it won't happen again." She gave Spike a pat on the head, causing him to roll his eyes. "Now you wait here and I'll be back in a few minutes with some num-nums, alright?"
Spike didn't even bother saying anything as he watched Celia abscond from the nursery. She wasn't going to believe a word he said anyway. One talon scratched at the bars of the crib as he let out a sigh. So much for that freedom...
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.
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.
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.
"What do you mean, you haven't seen Spikey-Wikey all day?"
Rarity was never one to overreact. Unless one counted the times that called for it, of course. The ruined fashion show for Sapphire Shores, the rejection of her puppet theater for the Foal and Filly Fair, that time last week when she accidentally sewed a mauve button to a lapel instead of a burgundy one...all of those deserved the overreactions she gave them, so much so that it probably wasn't even fitting to call them overreactions in the first place. Today's overreaction, though, threatened to trump them all, in terms of both appropriateness and intensity.
"Weeeell..." Pinkie Pie began, tapping her chin with a hoof. "I didn't see him at midnight. Then I didn't see him at 12:01, and I actually thought I saw his silhouette at 12:02 but it was just a melon with a mohawk wig on it. Come to think of it, I don't even know why I keep those two things together..."
"Miss Pie, please focus!" Rarity exclaimed, trying her best to stay calm and failing miserably. "I fear something terrible may have happened to my Precious Scales...usually he can smell my pancakes from a mile away! I swear, one time he knew they were finished frying before I did. And he wasn't even in my house at the time!"
"Maybe he just has a cold?" Pinkie offered. "Or maybe he smelled something really bad before and put a clothespin on his nose to block it out? Ouh, or maybe an evil wizard came and stole his sense of smell and locked him in a biiiiig maze and the only way he can get out is to follow a certain scent..."
Pinkie stopped in her tracks as she saw the look of panic on Rarity's face.
"Sorry," Pinkie said sheepishly. "Not helping."
"Well, I've looked all over the castle and all over Ponyville in general," Rarity said with a frown. "And the poor darling is nowhere to be found!" She thought for a moment before stomping her hoof resolutely. "I'm catching the next train to the Crystal Empire to inform Twilight."
"And I'm coming with you!" Pinkie chimed in. Rarity gave her a warm smile in response.
"So am I!" came Rainbow Dash's voice. The two ponies looked up to see her hovering just above their heads.
"Rainbow Dash!" Rarity said with a start. "How long have you been here?"
"Pretty much the whole time," Rainbow responded. "You've been talking just below my favorite napping cloud. And I think we should get Applejack and Fluttershy too! Best to have all of us there in case something really bad has happened."
"Excellent idea, Rainbow Dash," Rarity agreed. "You go get Fluttershy. Pinkie, please summon Applejack, and the four of you meet me at the train station." She held one hoof out in front of the two. "For Spike!"
"For Spike!" Pinkie and Rainbow shouted, meeting hooves with Rarity. Then the three split off in different directions.
~~~~~~~~~~
If there was ever a perfect time to make an escape, this was it.
His captor was locked away in her room. He was left completely alone. He remembered the path to the dining room, and the path to the outside from there. At the very least, he could get out of this cave and hide somewhere else until Princess Celestia showed up.
And yet Spike just couldn't do it.
He couldn't get the sounds of Celia's sobs out of his mind. As much as she'd mistreated him...well, no, she hadn't exactly mistreated him, per se. She'd been treating him very well. It just wasn't treatment that he wanted, and the good intentions of it were sullied by the whole kidnapping and babying thing. In retrospect, though, the babying wasn't the worst thing in the world. It wasn't something he wanted for himself, but things could have been far worse. He could have been found by a violent dragon.
Spike let out a deep sigh. He knew what he had to do, and as was often the case with things he had to do, he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to do it. But doing so was the right thing, and doing the right thing was...well...the right thing to do.
Spike made his way down the corridor, keeping an ear out for the exact sound he didn't want to hear again. He didn't like the way Celia had been treating him, but other than her prejudice against ponies, she was a nice, caring dragon who seemed to have a good heart. He would have taken an angry reaction to his words in a heartbeat over having to hear her cry like that.
The sound of Celia's sobs eventually slowed as Spike made his way down the corridor, but finding her room was still rather easy. Even if hers wasn't the only door that was closed, the name "Celia" scratched into the door was a dead giveaway. It took a fair amount of courage for Spike to reach out towards the door, but hearing her choke back another sob from inside cemented his decision. He rapped on the door lightly, hoping that it was loud enough to hear. Silence filled the few moments after the knock before she finally responded.
"Come in," Celia said quietly. Spike stared at the daunting door.
"Um...I can't reach the doorknob," Spike replied sheepishly. To say that he was feeling a bit small was an understatement. There was a sound of shuffling, followed by heavy footsteps. Finally, the door opened. Spike felt his heart sink as he looked into Celia's miserable face. Seeing a face that had been so joyful look so morose was a bit much for him to bear.
"Can we talk?" Spike asked, barely able to look her in the eyes.
"Of course," Celia said. She turned away from him to walk back into the room. Spike briefly held his claw out, expecting her to take it and lead him inside, but hers never came. He lowered his arm, feeling embarrassed to have requested it like that, and followed her inside.
Celia's room easily felt like the largest room he'd seen so far, but at the same time it was also the least decorated. A stone bed sat at the farthest wall, covered by a rather plush-looking bedspread, and a mirror hung on one wall at the level of Celia's head. A couple of framed photographs hung around the mirror, and tying the room together was a small nest of twigs, leaves, and other natural objects in the far corner. Spike eyed that nest as he followed Celia to her bed. She sat down on it, looking to him as he tried in vain to climb up as well. Try as he might, Spike couldn't reach the top of the bed, even with his highest jump. Finally he relented, looking to Celia but unwilling to ask for the aid he needed. Without a word, she reached down and scooped him up, setting him on the bed next to her. Part of him was surprised at the lack of the kiss she always gave him when picking him up, but considering how he'd spoken to her, the surprise was unwarranted.
"What did you want to talk about, child?" Celia asked, doing her best to keep her composure. Hearing her refer to him as "child" without a "my" qualifier before it was also jarring for Spike, a sign of the effect his words had on her. It was progress. Depressing progress, but progress nonetheless.
"I wanted to apologize," Spike said, looking down at the bedspread. "I mean...I think I needed to say what I said, but I think I could have said it better. If that makes sense." He kicked a bit of the blanket with a sigh. "It's just that...you said such awful things about my pony family and I got upset, and I really could have picked a better way to say what I said but I was just so annoyed I couldn't think straight. I mean, I just don't get why you'd think ponies would do something as terrible as brainwashing me."
There was a long, long pause, long enough to worry Spike. He finally managed to look back up to Celia, taking note of the sorrow on her face.
"You remember when you said I didn't have a child?" Celia asked. Spike nodded sadly at the reminder of his harsh words.
"Well...you're both right and wrong about that," Celia told him.
"Huh?" Spike asked. "How could I be right and wrong about something like that?"
"I had my own egg once," Celia said, looking off into the distance. "I did my best to take good care of it, kept an eye on it as much as physically possible. I couldn't tell you how excited I was to have a whelp of my own."
"That explains that nursery already being set up, huh?" Spike asked, receiving a nod in response.
"I did everything in my power to protect my egg," Celia continued. "Because I knew all too well what would happen if I didn't."
"What?" Spike asked, worry seeping into his tone.
"They might steal it," Celia said quietly. She took note of Spike's questioning look and didn't wait for him to ask. "The ponies at the bottom of the mountain range our town is built in."
"S-steal it?" Spike stammered. "But why would ponies steal a dragon egg?"
"Some say they use them for some manner of magical rituals," Celia said darkly. "Some say they hatch them and train the hatchlings as slaves. My mother and father knew about this from experience because their first egg was stolen. My oldest sibling was taken from my family by those ponies." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I left my egg at home for the briefest of moments one day...and that was the last I ever saw of it."
Spike felt a lump in his throat, one that was absolutely not a potential oncoming of tears no matter what anyone else said. No longer caring about the awkwardness from before, he leaned in and took one of Celia's arms, hugging it.
"I'm so sorry, Celia," Spike said, giving her arm a squeeze. "I didn't know." Spike felt her other arm wrap around him and give him a gentle hug back.
"I know you didn't," Celia responded. She gave his back a gentle rub. "You're such a sweet child when you're not so upset with me. That's why I just don't want to send you back to them..."
"But Celia," Spike said, looking up to her but not moving out of the hug. "Those ponies may be like that, but that doesn't mean all ponies are. I mean, you didn't find me in their village, right?"
"Right," Celia confirmed.
"The ponies in Ponyville would never, ever do something so terrible," Spike told her. "I mean...there are good and bad dragons too, right? I met some teenage dragons who bullied me and made me feel terrible, and they were bad dragons. But then there's you, who..." He hesitated. "...Well, I mean you did kidnap me. But your intentions were good, and you've been really, really nice to me. If I was your child, I'd be lucky to have such a caring mom. You're a good dragon."
"So why won't you just let me be your mom?" Celia asked sadly.
"Because I have a family already," Spike said, finally shifting away from the hug. "The ponies I live with who aren't bad ponies like the ones that took your egg, who would never brainwash me or anything like that. They love me and I love them, and it's all real emotion, not a lie I've been made to believe or anything."
Celia looked down at Spike, and if he didn't know any better, he would have thought she was staring straight into his soul.
"...I don't know," Celia said softly. "All of my previous experiences with ponies have been terrible. I know you at least think you're telling the truth, but it's just so hard for me to understand..."
Spike felt his frustration begin to build again, but he took a deep breath and allowed himself to think rationally. Then his rational thought disappeared as well, giving way to impulsive decisions.
"You said your shaman can tell if I've got any hexes or anything on me, right?" Spike asked.
"Yes, he can," Celia responded. "And he'll be back tomorrow."
"Well...how about this?" Spike asked. "If the shaman sees that I'm not brainwashed, then you'll let me go home. But if I am brainwashed, then I'll stay here and be your child." Spike didn't know where that offer came from, and frankly, he wasn't too crazy about his impulsive mind throwing that idea out or his mouth for verbalizing it. He knew he wasn't brainwashed, but what if that wasn't what the shaman found? Spike made a note to himself to be far more careful about controlling his impulses in the future. Maybe if he spoke up before she responded...
"Really?" Celia asked, eyes wide. Spike gulped and gave her an awkward smile.
"R-really," Spike answered.
"You're just saying this because you're confident you're right, aren't you?" Celia asked.
"100% confident," Spike responded. A few minutes ago, that would have been 100% true, but now seeds of doubt had been planted.
"Then it's a deal," Celia told him. "If it turns out these ponies really are good like you claim, then I'll give you back to them."
"They are, I promise," Spike replied.
"We'll see," Celia said. Then she gave Spike a sad little smile. "Guess you'll want to go spend your time before the shaman arrives away from the kidnapper who doesn't listen to you, huh?" Each reminder of what he'd said to her stung Spike that much more. Although the words were technically true, he still felt bad for saying them like that. And she seemed so lonely...
"Actually..." Spike said, shifting a bit closer. "I'd kinda like to learn a little more about dragons, if that's okay?" Celia smiled and patted Spike's head.
Celia was much more enjoyable to be around when she wasn't psychotically attempting to mother him, Spike decided.
Sure, she was still treating him like a child, but he could at least understand where she was coming from with that. He preferred to be treated as a mature dragon, but physiologically, he was still a child, and Celia probably wasn't used to dealing with dragons his age who were this emotionally advanced. She had let up on a fair amount of behaviors that would have been more appropriate for younger dragons, though. She was still a little touchy, but she wasn't constantly picking him up and holding him in her arms. The kisses to the forehead were also gone. In fact, she'd seemed to stop any behavior that could have been implied as treating him as her own child. She was still affectionate and friendly, but not quite in the same way.
"And that's when I turned into a fully-grown, rampaging dragon," Spike said. "I barely even remember anything I did during that time. I just remember smashing things, taking other things...mostly things I hadn't already smashed...and climbing that mountain with Rarity."
"Mm," Celia responded, looking down at him with a smile. "I have an opinion about that Rarity you're talking about, but out of respect to you in case you are capable of thinking on your own accord, I'll keep it to myself."
"Thanks," Spike said. "I'd try to convince you otherwise about Rarity, but I'll save that until after the trip to the shaman." A thoughtful look crossed his face as he looked up to Celia. "You know, I never got why greed made me grow like that."
"Oh, that's an easy question to answer," Celia said. "It's a curse placed on dragonkind long, long ago."
"Wait, really?" Spike asked, looking to her with interest. "What happened?" Celia chuckled and shook her head.
"I'll never get over how little you know about dragons," Celia said softly. She brought her tail around Spike, a gesture which Spike felt a bit odd about at first. After a moment, though, he relaxed and let it be.
"Long ago, when the world was young," Celia began. "There was a huge garden that all dragons were allowed access to. It had everything one could ever need, but one rule was understood between the dragons, and that one rule was that nobody was to take the sweetest fruit. That fruit belonged to the Creator, and only she was allowed to choose how it was used."
"Why would she keep the tastiest fruit away from the dragons?" Spike asked.
"Oh, she would let the dragons eat it," Celia explained. "But only for special occasions, so it wouldn't all be wasted. She expected the dragons to be mature enough to understand, but one, a young whelp by the name of Azure, decided that wasn't enough. He wanted to have the fruits whenever he wanted."
"Let me guess," Spike said. "Azure snuck in and stole the fruits, got caught, and the Creator wasn't happy?"
"Exactly," Celia confirmed. "The Creator decided that the dragons had to pay for this indiscretion, so a curse was laid upon them. From that day forward, if a dragon succumbed to their greed, they would age rapidly and become addicted to it. An outside source could break them from this if they acted fast enough, but left to their own devices, they would become a slave to their greed forever."
"Wow..." Spike said. "That's really interesting." Then he thought to himself. "But one thing confuses me about what happened to me."
"What is it, child?" Celia asked.
"Well..." Spike began. "When I grew because of greed, I grew really tall, but kinda long and lizardlike and stuff. But when I grew because of Twilight's magical surge, Twilight said I grew really huge with a big thick neck and stuff. Nothing like that other way I grew. What's up with that?"
"Oh, that's an easy one to answer too," Celia answered. She reached up and pulled a book off of her shelf, opening it up and setting it on her lap. She glanced over to Spike. "Is it okay if I set you on my lap? It'd be easier for us both to read the book."
Spike thought about this carefully. He didn't want to make Celia think he wanted to be babied or anything...but he supposed it was easier, and she had respected him enough to ask his permission rather than just picking him up and doing what she pleased.
"I guess it's alright," Spike said. He soon found himself lifted off of the bed, and sensed from her eagerness that Celia must have been hoping for opportunities to handle him again. He was set down on her lap, and had to admit that it was fairly comfortable. He certainly didn't want to stay past his trip to the shaman, but he could deal with this while he was here.
"You see, a dragon's growth is far more receptive to the stimuli around it than that of other races," Celia explained, pointing to a picture in the book. The picture showed a dragon whelp with a few arrows pointing away from it. "We adapt to our environment in limited fashion. This whelp, if raised in an icy environment, might develop sharper talons to gain traction in the ice." Her claw followed the arrow to a drawing of the whelp with longer claws to illustrate this. "But in a more watery environment, they might develop webbed toes instead." Another drawing showed this alteration.
"Whoa!" Spike exclaimed. "That's awesome!"
"Isn't it?" Celia asked with a giggle. "A dragon who grows through greed can't control themselves and becomes more monstrous. But maybe if magic is the impetus, they'll come out looking completely different like you said."
Spike smiled, excited to finally learn more about dragons. He looked up at Celia with a grin, but then got a sinking feeling in his chest. Was he playing right into her claws? Was she trying to make him want to stay? The thought worried him.
"...Can I sit back on the bed?" Spike asked. Celia looked a tiny bit disappointed, but nodded.
"Certainly," she conceded. She lifted him up once more, setting him back on the bedspread.
"Thanks," Spike said. He took a deep breath as thoughts about tomorrow's events started swirling through his head. "So...about this shaman."
"What about him?" Celia asked.
"He's definitely able to tell if someone's been brainwashed or not, right?" Spike asked. When he received a nod in response, he continued. "And...he has to tell the truth, right?"
"As the shaman of the village, he's in a position that requires absolute trust," Celia answered. "He has to live up to the standard of honesty that our society expects of him."
Spike breathed a sigh of relief. The idea of the shaman not being completely trustworthy had crossed his mind, but he was hoping it was only an empty worry. From the looks of it, that was just what it seemed to be.
"Did you have any more questions, child?" Celia asked. "It's getting close to dinnertime, and I was thinking of putting together a nice meal for you to celebrate our last night of doubt about your future." Spike knew that Celia had a much different idea of what his future held than he did, but she was right about that bit regardless. Tomorrow, his fate would be sealed and he would get to go home. Home, where he would never have to see this place or her again.
That thought made him a bit sad. Despite the dubious nature of their meeting and time together, Celia was really a nice dragon. Her heart was in the right place, even though her morals might not have been. And she seemed so lonely...it didn't sit right with him to just up and abandon her completely.
"Just one more question," Spike said.
"Then go ahead," Celia responded. "But do make it quick, unless you don't mind waiting longer for your food."
"Heh, right," Spike chuckled. He hesitated for a moment longer before getting the words out. "So when the shaman sees tomorrow that I haven't been brainwashed and you let me go home...that doesn't mean I can't visit you, or you can't visit me...right?"
Celia was silent for a few moments, looking at Spike with a gentle smile on her face. Spike watched her bite her lip. If his grasp of empathy held true, she was likely holding back a bit of emotion.
"I'm confident he will find that you've been brainwashed," Celia responded. "But in the unlikely event that he does not, then yes, visits would be more than welcome." She then got up from the bed, stretching her legs and wings out. She reached out for Spike, stopping before taking hold of him. "Do you want to get down?"
"Yeah," Spike replied. He raised his arms to give Celia better access, and soon felt her claws wrap around him. He smiled up to her as he was set on the ground.
"You wait in here," Celia said. "I'll call you in when dinner's ready, alright?"
"Okay, Celia," Spike responded. Celia gave him a wan smile, then turned around and walked out of the room, leaving the door open.
Spike was once again left in a position to make his escape, but he didn't bother taking it. He'd be leaving tomorrow anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Missing?!"
The other ponies winced at Twilight's reaction. Twilight was not usually the type to get this outwardly upset, but given the circumstances, nopony could really blame her.
"What do you mean, missing?" Twilight asked, a few hairs falling out of place. "He can't be missing. That's statistically improbable. I know every single place that Spike normally goes. He has to be in one of those places. Did you check the back half of the library in the castle where we keep the comic books?"
"I did," Rarity confirmed.
"What about the ice cream shop?" Twilight asked, beginning to pace. "He loves the ice cream shop!"
"One of the first places I checked outside of the castle," Rarity responded.
"His room?" Twilight demanded. Rarity gave her a flat stare.
"No, Twilight," Rarity said. "In my search for Spike, I certainly did not try to investigate his room."
"What about..." Twilight began.
"Yep!" Pinkie answered.
"Pinkie, you don't even know what I was going to say!" Twilight shouted. The alicorn looked for all the world like she was ready to explode.
"Twilight, darling," Rarity said softly. "We searched high and low for him. I personally scoured practically every inch of Ponyville for him, and Pinkie Pie covered what I missed."
"I even searched the skies for him!" Rainbow Dash insisted. "And there isn't even a logical way he could have been in them!"
"I asked my animal friends to keep an eye out," Fluttershy offered.
"He wasn't anywhere near the farm," Applejack told her. "Even checked the clubhouse. I know Apple Bloom brings him up there sometimes to study."
"To study?" Rainbow asked, raising a brow. "He doesn't even go to school with-"
"To study," Applejack repeated, stonefaced.
"I think I know what they were studying~" Pinkie sang, earning herself a glare from Applejack.
"Ladies, please!" Rarity insisted. "Look at what all this talk is doing to Twilight!"
Twilight's face held a strange look of worry and anger, and she was beginning to shake, even more hairs falling out of place. The others took one look at her and quieted down instantly.
"We need to find him right now," Twilight said softly. "I don't care what it takes, I don't care how long it takes. I want my Spike back."
"Of course, darling," Rarity said, nodding resolutely. "And find him we shall. I just wish we had some manner of clue as to where we might be able to find him..."
Just then, as if on cue, the front door of the palace opened. The six ponies stared, surprised at the sight in front of them. Seeing Princess Celestia was surprising in itself, as they had no reason to expect her here. Even more shocking, however, was the gigantic platinum dragon that towered behind her. Sunlight reflected off of his scales as he lowered his head to peer through the doorway at the group.
"I believe," Celestia said, holding up a paper with some crayon scribblings on it. "That we have a clue."
Anyone else in Spike's position probably would have been a nervous wreck. Here he was, waiting for the judgment of someone he didn't even know to determine whether he would return home to the family that loved him or be stuck here as the forcibly-adopted child of a kidnapper. A nice kidnapper who would probably take very good care of him and love him with all her heart, but a kidnapper nonetheless.
And yet Spike was not nervous. Well, to be fair, he was a little nervous, but nowhere near as much as one might have expected. He knew that he hadn't been brainwashed by the ponies. Even with the seeds of doubt that Celia had planted–intentionally or otherwise–in his mind, he was feeling far more confident and relaxed than others in his position might have felt.
The rest of the previous evening had gone quite smoothly. After a scrumptious dinner of gemstones and french fries, Celia had requested a bit of playtime to relax. The concept of playtime still seemed a little immature for his tastes, but with the knowledge that he would be leaving her alone again tomorrow weighing on his mind, he agreed to a bit of playtime. Besides, now that his vision wasn't obscured by a desperate urge to avoid anything that would make him look more childish, Celia's various action figures were pretty cool. Playtime ended up being quite fun, even though he tried to act like he wasn't having as great a time as he was.
Spike found himself thinking more than once that if he didn't have a family that he missed to get back to, he might have been alright with Celia adopting him. His old life was filled with work and responsibilities. As Celia's whelp, he likely would have had a fair amount of years to relax and be doted upon. He could easily tell that she would be the type to keep spoiling him even into his teenage years. As nice a mother as Celia might have been, though, he never let those thoughts stick around too long. He would take the chores and responsibilities back in moments if it meant going back to Twilight and his friends.
After a nice session of action figures, it was time for Spike to sleep. He found himself displeased when he realized he would have to be put back in the crib, and Celia's promise to get him a nice big boy's bed once he was found to be brainwashed didn't help matters. In the end, though, he decided that dealing with a crib for one more night wasn't the worst thing in the world. If he closed his eyes and kept still enough to not touch any of the bars, it felt like he was just sleeping in a nice, comfy bed. His wish to Bahamut that night was for the shaman to tell the truth. Celia's was the same, though they each obviously had different ideas of the truth.
Celia had woken him up quite early this morning. He had noticed a clock in the nursery, and while its numbers were replaced with some manner of runes that he didn't recognize, they were still positioned in the same manner as a regular clock's. According to the clock, it was "capital T with two lines growing down from the top line and also a horizontal line above it" in the morning. Logic based on clock placement helped him shorten that to "six." That was much shorter to say. It must have been early for most dragons as well, as he didn't hear many other dragons out during the morning roar.
"Are you sure that's all you want to eat?" Celia asked. Spike looked down at his meal. Celia had made him a nice little smorgasbord. The eggs were nice and runny, the toast was buttery and crisp, and the bacon wasn't made of hay. He wasn't sure what it was made of, but whatever it was delighted his taste buds. He would have to ask Twilight about it once he got home.
"Yeah, I'm stuffed," Spike replied. "Couldn't eat another bite." This was immediately followed by a crunch as he popped the last bacon strip into his mouth.
"Right," Celia replied, giggling softly. "You're just so adorable...I can't wait for the meeting with the shaman to confirm that you're staying with me."
Not gonna happen, Spike thought as he took one final bite of egg. He opted not to say it out loud though. As confident as he was, he didn't want to gloat in front of her. He still felt awful about her losing her child. Not awful enough to give his own life up and be her baby, but certainly awful enough to not rub it in her face once it was declared that he could go home.
"Well then," Celia said, getting up. "I guess it's that time then, huh?" She reached out to help Spike down from the chair. Spike accepted the help, half to toss her a bone before he went home and half because without her help, it was a bit of a fall from the booster seat to the ground.
"Now it's a bit of a walk to the shaman's cave," Celia said as she headed to a nearby closet. "And I know you're big enough to walk all on your own, but little legs like yours take much longer to travel that distance. I'll leave the choice up to you, but this would make the trip much shorter and easier." Spike watched Celia, wondering what in the world she was talking about. It took a bit of effort to suppress a groan as he watched her pull a stroller out of the closet.
"I know, I know," Celia said, noting the look of disinterest on his face. "You're a big boy. But even big boys use strollers sometimes. And it's a very long walk, and I know you're still a bit sleepy so you could nap on the way there if you want. But if you don't want to use it, that's fine."
Spike thought it over for a few moments. Agreeing to this very babyish behavior was a big concession for him, but he couldn't help but admit that a nap would be nice. Besides, he was leaving after this anyway. If it would give her that last little bit of cheer, he supposed he could allow it.
"Alright," Spike said. "Strap me in. But don't be all...super motherly or anything, okay?"
Celia looked delighted as she lifted Spike off of the ground. He soon found himself deposited in the stroller, and blushed lightly as Celia brought the strap down and fastened it between his legs. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but he supposed he could deal with it. It even had a hole cut in the back for his tail to fit through. He wiggled his legs a bit, surprised at how high off the ground he was. He quickly stopped wiggling them when he realized just how childish that looked, but being strapped into a stroller kind of destroyed any chance he had of looking mature and dignified anyway.
"Time to go, honey," Celia said. "And when we get back, we'll get you all settled in. We'll carve your name into your bedroom door, and maybe we'll even go introduce you to my friends and their whelps who are your age..."
Spike rolled his eyes lightly as he felt the stroller begin to roll, tuning out most of what Celia was saying. She was a sweetheart, but he had no intentions of sticking around any longer. The prospect of meeting other dragons his age was interesting, though. Maybe sometime when he came to visit Celia in the future, he'd ask her to introduce him to them. Though considering how childishly she treated him, maybe her idea of "whelps his age" differed from his own.
Spike opted to close his eyes as he was pushed through town. Meeting another dragon's gaze would have been terribly embarrassing, even moreso than just being seen. There didn't seem to be many dragons out and about, but he did hear Celia greet and speak with a few. He held his tongue and continued to pretend to be asleep as he heard the dragonesses she spoke with coo and squeal over "how adorable he was." He did take notice of how Celia would avoid the subject when she was asked where she got him. He supposed that did make sense. These sounded like close friends, and he certainly looked too old to have been hatched recently.
The next thing Spike knew, he was being pushed along a dark cave. He figured he must have actually fallen asleep at some point.
"Are you awake, child?" Celia asked softly. "Did you enjoy your little nap?" Despite the embarrassing words, her voice sounded so soothing and sweet.
"Yes, m-" Spike groggily started. Thankfully, he caught himself before that word actually came out. Celia would have never let him live that down. "...Mmmuch so."
"That's an odd way to word it," Celia said with a grin. Something in Spike's mind told him that she had realized what he almost said, but perhaps it was just his paranoia. If she had realized, then she was doing a good job of letting him off the hook.
"Good morning, Celia," a deep voice boomed, startling Spike from his thoughts. He looked ahead to see the form of a tremendous blue dragon sitting behind an enormous cauldron. This had to be the shaman.
"And who is this handsome young whelp?" the shaman asked, stepping out from behind the cauldron and leaning forward to get a better look at Spike. He wiggled a few talons playfully in front of Spike, earning a bemused glare for his efforts. "Not a very playful one, it seems."
"This is Small Scale," Celia said. "Although at the moment, he prefers to be referred to as Spike."
"At the moment?" the shaman asked, raising a brow. "What do you mean by that?" He reached forward and gave Spike's belly a poke, eliciting a frown and a swipe from Spike's talon. "Now he's getting playful," the shaman said with a grin. Spike just grumbled.
"I found him in a town full of ponies," Celia explained. "And I took him home to keep him safe."
"You took him?" the shaman asked, looking rather surprised. "Celia, you do realize that is kidnapping, correct?"
"Finally!" Spike exclaimed.
"I-it's not quite like that, shaman," Celia stammered. "You know what the ponies at the bottom of the mountain do with-"
"Was he found in that village?" the shaman asked. His tone changed slightly, still stern but a bit concerned.
"No..." Celia said softly. Spike could barely contain his excitement. Finally someone was using logic! At this rate, he would surely be free very soon.
"I see..." the shaman said, inspecting Spike closely. "So there's another town of ponies who are stealing our young."
"I wasn't stolen!" Spike shouted, feeling like the hope that had just been so close was drifting away. "Those ponies are my family and friends!"
"And that is what I came here to see you about," Celia said. "He insists that the ponies he lives with are kind and love him like one of their own. I, on the other claw, believe that he's been brainwashed."
"Hm," the shaman mused. "That is a possibility." Spike groaned loudly. This shaman seemed to be nearly as prejudiced as Celia was.
"Indeed," Celia agreed. "So he and I made a deal. We want you to check him and see if there are any brainwashing hexes on him. He insists there are not, but I solidly believe that they are. If he's right and he's telling the truth about the ponies beings to him, then I agreed to let him go back home to them. But if I'm right and he has been brainwashed by the ponies, then he's agreed to stay with me and be my whelp." Spike was beginning to regret that deal, but still he stayed strong. He knew for an absolute fact that Twilight and the others would never do such a terrible thing to him.
"Very well then," the shaman said. "Give him to me."
Spike wriggled uncomfortably as Celia undid the straps on the stroller. He did not like this shaman, and he wasn't exactly fond of the idea of being handed over to him.
"It's okay, little one," Celia whispered to him. "The shaman is very wise and trustworthy." She let out a sigh as she hugged Spike. "I really hope you'll be able to stay with me...but if it turns out that you will be leaving, then just know that I've very much enjoyed having you around, and I'll miss you dearly." Spike sighed softly, hugging Celia as best he could. He didn't want to stay, but part of him would miss her too. At least the non-kidnappy part of her.
Spike was then passed over to the shaman. He was moved over to a table and laid down upon it. Unlike everything soft that he had been placed upon at Celia's home, this table was cold and unforgiving. He shivered a bit as the shaman inspected him closely, waving his claws over him. He raised a brow as a soft magical aura surrounded the shaman's dual horns. He'd had no idea that dragons could use magic in such a way. Maybe he was the dragon equivalent of a unicorn? He did have horns and a lack of wings, whereas Celia had the opposite. As uncomfortable as he was, it was still interesting to learn new things about dragons.
Spike looked over to Celia as the shaman continued his investigation. She looked terribly worried, maybe even close to crying. His heart broke a little for her. She deserved to have a whelp of her own to shower love and affection upon. He just didn't want it to be him. Thankfully, it wouldn't have to be him. Once the shaman realized that there were no brainwashing hexes on him, he would be free to go. He could even talk to Princess Celestia and see if she could help her with-
"Hmmm," the shaman mused. "Yes, yes."
"Yes?" Spike and Celia asked simultaneously.
"Yes," the shaman repeated. "The poor thing's been brainwashed quite thoroughly."
Spike's jaw dropped. It couldn't be...there was no earthly possibility.
"No way!" Spike shouted. "It's not true! There has to be a mistake!"
Celia, meanwhile, did her best to hold her true reaction back for the sake of Spike. She swooped up to the table and plucked Spike up, hugging him snugly to her chest.
"I knew it!" Celia exclaimed. "I know this must confuse you terribly, little one, but the love you feel for those ponies is manufactured. My love for you is real, and I'll do my best to raise you with love and care." Spike struggled and squirmed as his world began to shatter around him.
"Just bring him back in here in two hours," the shaman told her. "I'll have the potion to remove those nasty hexes done by then."
"Wonderful," Celia said. She lifted Spike to her face, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks as she smiled at him. "Don't worry, my child. Mommy will keep you safe."
Tears streamed down Spike's cheeks as well, albeit for a much different reason.
It was impossible. Absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent impossible.
Twilight couldn't have brainwashed him. Princess Celestia couldn't have brainwashed him. Nopony could have brainwashed him. Spike knew for a fact that he loved them and they loved him, completely free of any magical influence whatsoever. There was no question in his mind about it as he was pushed across town by Celia.
The shaman had to be lying.
That was the long and short of it, really. The shaman had to be lying in order to keep Spike here with Celia.
But why?
He had never met this shaman before his inspection. The shaman had no prior interaction with Spike to make him go and lie to keep him here. It made no sense whatsoever.
Or did it just make no sense to him because he was still brainwashed to love Twilight and the others?
Spike quickly sent that thought packing, horrified that his brain had even allowed it to manifest. There was simply no chance that his feelings for them weren't genuine.
And that was exactly what someone who was brainwashed would think.
Spike let out a yelp as he caught himself thinking about that possibility.
"Are you awake now, my sweet little whelp?" Celia asked.
Spike had spent the better part of the last hour and a half pretending to be asleep, although his stress levels had made it difficult. Celia had wanted to take him to the park to meet some children his age, but he was in no mood to meet them under these circumstances. He was missing an opportunity to actually meet dragons his age by faking sleep through the entire stop at the park, but he didn't care. And apparently Celia didn't mind much, either. After all, from the looks of it, he would have plenty of time to meet them in the future.
"Uh-huh," Spike responded, not looking up.
The Dragon Code of Honor had officially made Spike's bad list, as had his lack of impulse control. Both of them had collaborated to put Spike in this terrible situation. As little as he wanted to stay, he had made a deal with Celia, and even though he still didn't believe the word of the shaman for a moment, he felt an awful obligation to abide by his side of the deal. Although that didn't mean that he couldn't try to convince Celia otherwise.
"We're on our way back to the shaman," Celia told him. "Soon you'll take that potion, and all those nasty fake emotions for those ponies will be gone." Spike took a breath. It was now or never.
"Celia, look," Spike said. "I know we made a deal, and I know it looks like I should live up to my part of it, but I just know that the shaman isn't telling the truth. I swear that Twilight and Rarity and all the other ponies truly love me, and I love them. You're taking me away from my family. How is that any different from what those egg thief ponies are doing? Please, if you really care about me at all, you'll let me go home. I'll still come visit! You can even treat me like a kid when I come visit! But please, just believe me and let me go home."
Celia was given pause by this plea, so much so that she even stopped pushing the stroller. She stared down at Spike, looking pensive. Spike might have been young, but he held the advantage of being particularly persuasive when he really needed to be. In the past, he had really only used this persuasiveness to talk Twilight into letting him have cookies before dinner, but there was far more at stake this time. Although Twilight's chocolate chip cookies were tasty enough that Spike could practically consider having them taken away as a life-threatening situation.
"My child..." Celia finally said. "I do care about you, and that's why I can't send you back to them. All of this you're feeling is manufactured by the evil magic of those ponies. The shaman is trusted by the community to be truthful and forthright. He would never lie to us, especially in an event of such importance. And it hurts that you would compare me to those despicable egg thieves..."
Spike bit his lip. Just because he wanted to go home didn't mean that he didn't care for Celia in some fashion.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," Spike said. "I like you. Honestly, if I didn't have a family to go back to, I'd be happy to stay and be your whelp. You're really nice and a good mother. But I do have a family to go back to. I'm begging you, just let me go!" Spike tried his best to stay firm and strong during his pleas, but tears were starting to form in his eyes. At this point, he was willing to make just about any bargain to get what he wanted. "What if you come to live in Ponyville too? So you can see how much they love me, and you can be nearby to see if they're doing anything bad?"
"Absolutely not," Celia said, shaking her head. "I refuse to live around those who would harm us dragons so."
"You're like a million times bigger than them!" Spike shouted desperately. "Even if they would want to hurt you, do you really think they could?"
"They bullied my friend out of his sleeping place," Celia answered. "And he's a bit larger than I am."
"But the smoke from his snoring would have blocked out the sun for a hundred years!" Spike cried. "They didn't just kick him out for the heck of it!"
Celia hummed lightly to herself, looking like she was actually thinking this part over.
"He does have a bit of a snoring problem..." Celia said, contemplating. "Well, either way, I don't trust them. They brainwashed you, the shaman said it himself. And as the head of our town, the shaman would never lie to his people."
"But I'm not brainwashed!" Spike yelled.
"Then why are you so afraid of taking this potion?" Celia asked. "He said the potion would remove your brainwashing. If there isn't any there, then it would have nothing to remove, wouldn't it?"
Spike thought this over for a total of three seconds. For the first two seconds of that, Celia's logic made sense. A potion that was meant to remove something couldn't remove that something if it didn't exist. It was in that third second that logic won out. The shaman had lied about the brainwashing. Who was to say he wouldn't lie about this potion too? It wasn't just a possibility, it was incredibly likely.
"Here we are!" Celia said with a smile as Spike was pushed back into the opening of the shaman's cave. Spike struggled, trying to pull out of the stroller in a last-ditch effort. Unfortunately, the restraints were made to withstand struggling, and his efforts were in vain. He stared in defeat at the blank cavern walls as he was pushed along, frowning at the light at the end of the corridor that he knew to be the shaman's room.
"Ah, you're just in time," the shaman said to Celia as the two entered his chamber. "I can tell how much you care for this whelp and his safety."
"I do," Celia said. "I really do." The shaman chuckled softly, smiling down at Spike.
"You're very lucky to be gaining a mommy who loves you so much," he said.
"She's not my mommy," Spike insisted. "Twilight is." He paused. He'd never referred to Twilight as "mommy" before, but the more he thought about it, the more it fit. She loved him, cared for him, protected him, educated him...sure, she could be a pain at times, forcing him to do chores and the like, but that just made her fit the role even more. If he ever got out of this, he would make sure to let her know all that.
"I'm sorry the ponies have forced you to think that way," the shaman said, shaking his head. Then he looked up to Celia. "Please pass the child to me."
Spike attempted to escape as soon as his restraints were removed, but Celia was too quick and far too strong for him. He found himself held securely in her arms, limbs held tightly against his body.
"Perhaps I'll hold him instead," Celia said. The shaman nodded and reached up towards the nearby shelf, taking hold of a small vial of blue liquid.
"Now, open your mouth like a good boy," the shaman said to the struggling Spike. "I promise it tastes good. Like fresh-cut sapphires."
Spike did like sapphires quite a bit, but not anywhere near enough to give in. Instead, he took a deep breath, waited for the shaman to get close to his face, and spit on him.
"No need for apologies," the shaman responded, wiping his face clean. "A child like him doesn't know any better." One claw came out and pinched either side of Spike's mouth, forcing his lips open. Before Spike could stop him, the potion was quickly poured into his mouth, the claw moving to hold his mouth shut. The potion did indeed taste like delicious sapphires, but that didn't make Spike any less resistant to drinking it. The shaman slowly and carefully tilted Spike's head back, ready to stop if he began to choke. Thankfully, there was no choking to stop, as Spike unwillingly swallowed the concoction down.
Celia watched the shaman's slightly rough treatment of Spike with an odd mix of disdain and relief. She didn't feel good about seeing him treated like this. Part of her even wanted to pry the shaman's claws away from Spike, her motherly instinct kicking into overdrive as she watched her whelp struggle. It was a heartbreaking sight, but she knew in her heart that everything the shaman was doing to him was done for his benefit.
Spike shuddered as he realized he'd drank the whole thing, then tried to pull away from the shaman's claws. This proved to be easier than expected, as the shaman seemed to have no interest in restraining him any longer now that he had drank the potion down. He wanted to gag himself and try to cough the potion up, but Celia still held his arms tightly. The potion felt warm in his stomach, and he could feel his arms and legs warming up a bit from it as well.
Then a weird feeling came over him. As he glared up at Celia, her warm smile began to get to him. Something about that smile warmed his heart. Why did it warm his heart? He tried to look away and focus on something else, but found that somewhat hard. His pony friends sprung to mind, and he tried to focus on thinking about them, but one by one, their faces started to fade. He desperately tried to grasp at them, but each one seemed to just wink out of existence. With each fading face, he felt a wave of unnatural calmness wash over him, until only Twilight's face remained. By this point, he had been mostly placated, but the fight in his mind and body kicked up once again, trying desperately to keep her from disappearing too. Try as he might, though, the effects of the potion were too potent. A tear came to Spike's eye as Twilight's face vanished from his mind. All that was left was the face of the dragoness above him.
"I-is he okay?" Celia asked, looking at Spike with worry. His initial struggles had troubled her, but his current utter calmness was almost more worrying.
"He is more than okay," the shaman said. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"
Celia looked down at the whelp in her arms. He stared up at her in response, his expression blank.
"Are...are you okay, Small Scale?" Celia asked.
"Uh-huh," he responded, a bit groggily. "I'm okay."
"Thats a relief," Celia said. Then she tilted her head. "Do you still want to go back to the ponies?"
"No!" Spike exclaimed. "Don't send me to the bad ponies! I want to stay here with you, Mommy!"
Celia beamed as she lifted Spike...lifted Small Scale up to her face, giving him a kiss on the forehead. It certainly felt like he had accepted her rather quickly, but that didn't matter to her now. She finally had her sweet little whelp.
Celia hadn't expected him to take to his new life this easily and this quickly after his brainwashing was removed. She'd been positive that there would be some bit of confusion at first, some period of having to gently work him through the fact that his entire life was spent living a lie. Sure, she'd been a very good mommy to him even when he was convinced he didn't want her as his mommy, but jumping straight to this happiness seemed out of place.
He complained when she tried to put him back in the stroller, which she had fully expected. However, she'd expected him to want to walk on his own. Instead, he'd begged to ride on his Mommy's back. Celia was more than happy to oblige, but it still seemed odd. The overwhelming joy at riding on her back felt off. But still she smiled through it. Having a whelp of her own, one who seemed to love her as much as she loved him, was invigorating. So his behavior was a little strange. That was just the wonderful uniqueness of her sweet little Small Scale.
But it wasn't the right uniqueness.
Celia didn't know quite how to explain that one. Uniqueness wasn't a quality that could be measured in degrees. Either one was unique or one was not, no quantifying involved. Small Scale was unique for sure.
And yet it wasn't the same uniqueness that he'd displayed for the past few days.
Removing the brainwashing from a whelp had to leave an odd effect on them. That had to be the reason for it. Surely he would be back to normal soon enough, back to the way he'd been acting before. Minus the fake love for ponies, of course.
"Here we are!" Celia said with a smile as they arrived back at her cave. "Home sweet home. My home, and now it's officially yours as well. Isn't that great?"
"It's great, Mommy!" Small Scale exclaimed, playfully drumming on Celia's back with both claws. "I wanna go play with my toys!"
Celia glanced back at him. He'd seemed rather reluctant to go and play before, and now he was all gung-ho about it? That was certainly peculiar. But maybe he just felt he'd had a long few days of rebelling against being her child, and wanted to take this time to just relax and accept his own role. That made sense, right?
"Okay, honey," Celia said. "We'll play for a little bit, and then we'll have some lunch. Doesn't that sound good?"
"Sounds good!" Small Scale said. "Let's go play, Mommy!"
Celia smiled back to him, but still couldn't shake the feeling that something felt off. She couldn't quite place her talon on it, but something just wasn't right. Although maybe it was all in her head. She and her son had a trying few days, after all. Yes, that was it. That had to be it.
The two arrived in the nursery, and Celia went to put Small Scale down, but brought him in for a kiss on the forehead as she tended to do. Small Scale giggled in delight at the kiss. Hearing his laughter was a relief to Celia, and she gave him another kiss for good measure. This was the happiest she'd seen him by far. That should have made her happy, and for the most part it did. It also troubled her slightly, but not as much as it troubled her to notice that Small Scale was drooling a bit.
Celia just stared at the sight for a few moments. To be fair, she hadn't known Small Scale terribly long. But in that time that she knew him, he had never once drooled, nor had he given her the impression that drooling was something he was wont to do.
"Are...you okay, Small Scale?" Celia asked.
"Uh-huh," Small Scale responded. "Why?"
Celia stared at him for a few more moments before she shook her head, wiped the drool away with her thumb, and placed him on the ground. Sometimes a dragon's lips ended up getting a little wet. It happened, she supposed. She'd get concerned if it happened again.
"Wanna play Spaceman Spines?" Small Scale asked, picking up the appropriate figure. "He's my favorite!"
Celia grinned at the eager whelp. She'd only just introduced him to Spaceman Spines the other night, and he was already his favorite. Part of her found that adorable, but a small part of her also found that a bit odd. He'd barely seemed to pay any attention when she was reading him that bedtime story on their first night together. She supposed it was entirely possible that he'd already chosen Spaceman Spines as his favorite naturally, but that feeling of something being off was impossible to shake. So she didn't shake it. She simply did her best to squirrel it away and focus on playing with her new son.
"Maybe we could get my friend over here later," Celia suggested as she held Meteor Mash, Spaceman Spines' arch-nemesis, up and shook him threateningly. "She's got a whelp just your age. I'm sure she'll be happy to have a new playmate!"
"She?" Small Scale asked, twisting his face in annoyance. "Girls are yucky."
Celia wasn't quite sure what to think of that statement. She'd never thought of asking him what gender he preferred, nor had she any reason to. It never came up organically, and she didn't want to think of her little boy dating yet anyway. He had mentioned a few things about some of the ponies who had held him captive, though. From the sound of those stories, it certainly sounded as though he liked girls a fair amount.
"Well, Mommy is a girl," Celia said, trying to focus. "Do you think Mommy is yucky?"
"No way!" Small Scale said. "You're really pretty and the best Mommy ever!"
Celia was caught between joy at hearing such sweet words from Small Scale and confusion at how weird it sounded coming from him. She was getting to the point where the bits of concern were adding up and becoming harder and harder to ignore. Maybe it was just because he'd been through a lot, but Small Scale certainly seemed to be acting different.
She took a deep breath. She was overthinking things too much. Now that Small Scale was free of his brainwashing, he must have just been happy to have a mother. And his odd behavior must have just been an aftereffect of a big mental change thanks to the potion. That had to be it. At least he wasn't displaying any major mental problems. He was just being surprisingly affectionate and more immature than before. Easily symptoms of...wooziness? Adjusting?
"Th...thank you, sweetie," Celia said, her tone uncertain. Then she smirked a bit, remembering some of the stories about his pony captors that she'd politely sat through. "Sorry, I'll try to avoid using that name."
"Why?" Small Scale asked.
Celia stopped in her tracks, dropping the Meteor Mash figure she'd been holding. That was not the kind of response she'd been expecting. Small Scale had been sharing rather pleasant memories about his friend Sweetie Belle, so much so that had she not known he was brainwashed, she would have believed them completely. Maybe he just hadn't heard her properly.
"I called you sweetie," Celia said. "I won't do it again."
"You don't think I'm a sweetie?" Small Scale asked, pouting a bit.
"What? No..." Celia answered quickly. The pout only became poutier. "I mean yes! Yes, I do think you're a sweetie. But I know that you knew a pony named Sweetie, and I don't want to remind you of her or the other ponies."
"Bluh," Small Scale said, sticking his tongue out. "Ponies are mean. If I knew a pony named Sweetie, I bet she wouldn't be a sweetie at all."
Celia couldn't even find words for what she was feeling right now. She was almost entirely positive she'd remembered the name correctly. "Sweetie Belle" was not a name that was easily forgotten. But there was always a chance that she'd mixed up the name...maybe she'd try another one.
"What about a pony named Apple Bloom?" Celia asked. "You were talking about how you helped her do her homework and she thanked you with a kiss, remember?"
"Ewwwww," Small Scale cringed. "I'd never kiss a pony!"
Celia took a breath. She knew for a fact that she'd remembered that name and story correctly. Small Scale had blushed quite a bit when he accidentally revealed that, and even though she'd felt a bit bothered by the fact that one of his captors had allegedly gone and kissed him, she still found it quite cute how embarrassed he'd been about it. Either Small Scale was doing a very good job of denying the story, or something was seriously wrong here.
But maybe he was just strongly denying having told her that story about the kiss. Clearly it was an embarrassing story for him, and denial was a real possibility. Or he'd forgotten that he told her, maybe? Either way, she decided to go a different route.
"Of course not," Celia said, eyeing Small Scale carefully. "That would be terrible, wouldn't it?"
"Really gross!" Small Scale exclaimed, making a face. "Why would you say I did that, Mommy?"
"J-just playing with you, honey," Celia lied. She took a breath. "Do you, by chance, remember Rarity?" He had to remember Rarity. Every other story he told her about his captors involved a pony named Rarity.
"Is Rarity a dragon?" Small Scale asked. "That name sounds pretty."
Celia's jaw dropped. She stared worriedly at the confused baby dragon in front of her.
"Why do you look so upset, Mommy?" Small Scale asked.
"I..." Celia stammered, looking like she'd seen a ghost. "I...was just thinking of something that...Twilight Sparkle said."
"Who's that?" Small Scale asked.
Celia felt ill. Terribly, mind-numbingly ill. There was absolutely no room left for denial. Something was clearly wrong here.
"Aren't you gonna play Spaceman Spines, Mommy?" Small Scale asked, waving his figure in the air. "Spaceman Spines has to go to space and fight Meteor Mash and his army of meteor monsters!"
"We...we'll play later, honey," Celia said. She stood up, the head rush nearly causing her to fall right back over.
"But I wanna play now!" Small Scale moaned. "You said..."
"Mommy knows what she said, dear," Celia said, scooping Small Scale up into her arms. "But we have to go see the shaman right now."
"But..." Small Scale began.
"Right now," Celia repeated. She was beginning to sweat as she made her way out of the nursery, clutching Small Scale close to her. She heard him begin to sniffle, and that only made things worse. The winding corridors of her home, corridors which she knew like the back of her claw, felt constrictive and labyrinthian as she made her way towards its exit.
"Mommy, your heart's beating real fast," Small Scale noted quietly.
"Don't worry, darling," Celia said, failing to take her own advice. "We just have to get you to the shaman and everything will be just-"
"STOP!"
Celia stopped in her tracks as she heard an amplified voice bellow from in front of her. She looked around in confusion, wondering if she was hallucinating. Her gaze finally fell to the ground, where a group of six ponies stood in front of her. None of them looked very pleased to see her, but the anger on the face of the purple one in front was so undeniably intense that it still managed to intimidate her despite the vast difference in size. The white and orange ponies flanked her on either side, while the blue one flew just above her. Celia clutched Small Scale closer to her chest as she stared at the group, utterly speechless.
"My name is Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria," the purple pony said, shockingly fearless in her approach. "And I want my Spike back."
Of all the possible emotions Celia could have felt right now, fear was by far the most prominent.
Something terribly wrong had happened to Small Scale, the shaman's potion had to have done it, and now to make things worse, the angry ponies that she'd taken him from were here to confront her. There was no reason for her to be this scared of six creatures that she could easily take on, but something about their poise, combined with her other worries, somehow served to make her forget that she was being intimidated by creatures that could fit in one of her claws.
"Just let me at her!" Rainbow Dash shouted. "I'll teach her to kidnap our friend!" She tried to take off, but Applejack was quick as usual to bite down on her tail.
"Just hold your horses, RD," Applejack said through clenched teeth. "You remember what happened last time you charged a full-grown dragon head-on? None of us are happy about this, but for pony's sake, let Twilight handle it."
"Thank you, Applejack," Twilight said. Then she turned her attention back to Celia. "Spike has asked us not to harm you, so if you return him to us peacefully, nopony will get hurt." The strain that being calm placed on her was palpable as she stared a hole through the dragoness.
"Ouh!" Pinkie exclaimed from the back lines. "That was super intimidating, Twilight! Good job!"
"Not now, Pinkie..." Fluttershy said softly. It was taking all of her strength to stay calm too, although her restraint was holding back more fear than violence.
"Well, Twilight, your diplomatic methods had better work soon," Rarity said. "Because if she does not release my Spikey-Wikey, then so help me..."
"Rarity, please," Twilight said, frowning. "We were asked not to hurt her, and that's the way I'd prefer to handle this."
"Asked by who?" Celia said, her voice shaky. "How did you find this place?"
"Spike sent Princess Celestia a letter," Twilight responded, although she didn't look at all happy to be speaking to Celia without her request fulfilled. "Now, I hope this is the last time I have to repeat myself. Return Spike to us, now." Twilight's authoritative tone surprised even herself. She wasn't used to hostile negotiations with another race, but so far things were going rather well, other than the fact that they hadn't gotten Spike back yet.
Celia took a step back from the ponies, keeping Spike close to her chest. In any other situation, a threat from a creature so small would have been laughed off, but Celia was in no laughing mood right now.
"I..." Celia started, biting her lip. "I can't. I have to get him fixed."
"What do you mean, get him fixed?" Rainbow shouted. "She's gonna do something terrible to Spike!" Within moments, the ponies, save for Twilight, were shouting over one another, some with threats towards Celia, others trying to calm the situation down but failing miserably, and Pinkie simply shouting whatever came to mind. It only took about five seconds of this before Twilight's patience was drained.
"Enough!" Twilight shouted, using her magic to amplify her voice again. The other five fell silent, looking sheepish. Celia opened her mouth to speak, when she felt Small Scale shift and grumble in her grasp.
"Mommy, why's everyone yelling?" Small Scale asked.
Twilight froze as she heard Spike's voice. Her frown deepened as she shot Celia a glare so intense that she could nearly feel it.
"...Why did he just call you that?" Twilight said. Her tone was eerily calm, a chilling monotone that sent a shiver down Celia's spine.
"I...I can explain..." Celia said softly. Before she could continue, Small Scale managed to shift enough to get a look at the others in the room.
"Oh no!" Small Scale exclaimed. "Mommy, the bad ponies are here! Beat them up!"
Twilight took a deep breath, doing her best to center herself. Then she picked up into the air, flying closer to Celia. The pure negativity emanating from her was overwhelming.
"What did you do to him?" Twilight demanded. Her voice was cold and even, and Celia noted her startling ability to intimidate even without raising her voice. If she didn't know better, she would have identified it as a motherly tone, or more specifically the tone of a mother who would throw herself headlong into danger for her child.
"I didn't do this to him!" Celia insisted. "I'm trying to fix it!" Then her head dropped as reality came crushing down. "It's my fault it was done...but I didn't do it."
"I don't care about semantics," Twilight told her. Had Celia known anything about Twilight, just how abnormal that last sentence was for her would have been better appreciated. "What was done to him?"
"I was just trying to protect him!" Celia cried. "I found him deep in the borders of a town of ponies, and I took him home to save him from his captors! I just wanted to give him a good life and care for him with all my heart!"
"Captors?" Twilight asked, her volume beginning to rise. "Spike is my family! A friend to all of us! We didn't capture him! If anyone is his captor here, it's you!"
"That's what you want him to think!" Celia shouted, blinking to try and hold the tears back. "You kept him brainwashed all these years and fed him your lies! I just wanted to fix that, but then..."
"Brainwashed?!" Twilight shouted right back. "I would never do that to my Spike! How dare you accuse us of such a terrible thing? The only one who's done any brainwashing is you!"
The words struck Celia directly in the heart. She had never asked the shaman to perform any manner of brainwashing on Small Scale, but now that this pony had brought it up, it sounded quite a bit like he had done just that. Perhaps he had overcompensated for the removal of his preexisting hexes by making one of his own to acclimate him to his new life that much quicker?
"Don't yell at Mommy!"
Celia was left with no time to consider this further as Small Scale burst from her grip. She must have unintentionally loosened it in her distraction, and she stared in terror as he launched himself from her claws and towards the pony in front of her. Celia let out a shriek as Twilight, caught off-guard, was tackled in midair by the angry baby dragon.
"Spike!" Twilight cried out, as the other ponies gasped and looked on. Both young claws reached around Twilight, pinning her wings to her sides. No longer able to keep herself afloat, the startled Twilight yelped as she and the baby dragon began to plummet towards the ground below. The ponies quickly scrambled to try and catch the two, but they were not given a chance as they fell right into Celia's open claw. Her other claw dug between the two, breaking Spike's grip on Twilight's wings and pulling him away from her.
"Small Scale!" Celia said. "What in the world were you thinking, doing something so dangerous?"
"The mean pony was yelling at you!" Small Scale responded, breathing heavily. Celia looked sternly to the pony in her other claw, expecting a look of rage in return. Her glare softened almost instantly as she saw the reality of the situation. The formerly confident and intimidating Twilight had lost all of her bravado, and was simply staring in disbelief at Small Scale. Tears were forming in her eyes as she trembled in Celia's grasp.
"Spike..." Twilight said through sniffles.
If someone had asked Celia what she knew of pony culture, she wouldn't have had much good to say about it, but she also wouldn't have had much to say about it in general. She knew ponies as brainwashing egg thieves, but knew nothing of their ability to act. Regardless, she could tell that these were no crocodile tears from Twilight. Hers was not the face of a captor desperate enough to get her captive back that she would fake tears for it. Hers was the face of a mother whose child had just attacked her in cold blood, all in defense of another whom he had referred to with the title meant for her. A look towards the other ponies lent further credence to this belief, each face holding a worried look.
In her quest to keep Small Scale safe, she had utterly failed at that exact goal. The only one he needed to be safe from was her.
Celia had already been determined to speak to the shaman before, but now she was even more driven towards that goal.
"I...I've made a terrible mistake," Celia said to Twilight. "But...I'm going to make it right, okay?"
Twilight took a deep breath, trying to fight the tears back.
"Please..." Twilight said softly. "Anything to get my Spike back."
Celia nodded resolutely. She looked down to the other ponies, who were all frozen in place.
"I know you have no reason to trust me," Celia told them, head hung low both out of shame and out of necessity, given how far down they were. "But I know where to find the dragon who will fix this mess...at least this part of it...so we can figure things out." She set Twilight down next to her friends, then turned towards the cave exit. She found herself disappointed but unsurprised to see that the ponies weren't following her.
"Why should we believe you, huh?" Rainbow shouted up to her.
"I could say the same about you," Celia shot back. "If I can put that aside to trust you, then I'm sure you could do the same for me."
"What reason do you even have for not trusting us?" Rarity said, narrowing her eyes. "You're the one who kidnapped a child!"
"It was a misunderstanding!" Celia cried. "And ponies did the same to me, so don't go acting all high and mighty!"
"Wait..." Twilight said. "Did you say ponies kidnapped your child? What ponies did this?"
"The ponies from the town at the bottom of the mountain range," Celia said, fighting to keep her composure. "My one and only egg, and they stole it from me!"
"What town at the bottom of the mountain range?" Twilight asked. "We circled these mountains twice over trying to find Spike. The closest thing we saw was an abandoned old town, but from the looks of it, nopony has lived there for decades."
Celia did not provide a response. Or rather, she did not provide an intelligible response. All that she could manage was a stifled choking noise. It felt as if her entire world was coming down upon her. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't.
"Um...I'm sorry to interrupt, miss big terrifying dragon," Fluttershy spoke up. "But aren't we supposed to be going somewhere to fix Spike?"
"R-right..." Celia said. She would worry about that once Small Scale was better. She gave a look down to the whelp, doing her best to put a smile on her face. "Everything will be okay, honey. I promise." Then she took off towards the exit, the six ponies hot on her trail.
Celia stepped out of the cave exit, mentally cursing at the fact that the shaman's cave was so far away. With how small the ponies were, traveling all that distance by foot would take far too long. Three of them could fly, but the others had no wings to speak of. Her mind came up with a solution, one which she never would have expected to come up with in the past.
"Those of you without wings, climb onto my back," Celia said, lowering herself down. "It's the quickest way to get to the shaman's cave!"
"There will be no need for that," came a booming voice.
Celia's ears perked. That deep, masculine voice certainly didn't belong to any of the female ponies following her. She turned her attention forward once more to see what was probably the most shocking sight she'd seen in ages. The first thing she noticed was the shaman, standing there and looking oddly ashamed. That voice certainly didn't belong to him, nor could it have belonged to the small, feminine-looking pony standing in front of him. This meant that the voice had to belong to the tremendous platinum dragon standing behind them, easily restraining both of the shaman's claws with one of his own.
"K-King Bahamut!" Celia exclaimed. Never in her life had she personally bore witness to the Dragon King himself. She knew she was supposed to bow, but every single muscle in her body seemed to betray her at that very moment. That didn't stop her from trying, though, as she shakily attempted to fall to her knees.
"There is no need for bowing, my subject," Bahamut said. "Please rise. We have matters to discuss." Celia quickly did as told, pulling herself back to a full standing position, still clutching Small Scale close to her. The small pony with the flowing mane trotted up next to the king, giving him a gentle nudge.
"You've changed so much in the past few decades, Bahamut," Celestia said with a smile. "Remember when you made an entire city bow nine times before you finally gave them a break?"
"Indeed," Bahamut responded, a smile crossing his face. "Your ponies believed the reverberations to be the earthquakes that signaled the end of the world."
"Well perhaps if you didn't eat so many gems, the shaking wouldn't have been quite as severe," Celestia responded.
"I could say the same for you and cake," Bahamut responded. Then the two shared a good, hearty laugh.
Celia's mind was utterly blown as she watched the king of her people and what she surmised to be the princess of the ponies behaving so amiably towards each other. A large part of her wished that it was the only thing that had blown her mind and shattered her world view today.
"Enough jocularity," Bahamut finally said, still keeping his tight grip on the shaman. For all the shaman's size, he looked positively dwarfed by that of the dragon king. "Right now, there is a situation most dire that needs addressing." He nodded to Celia. "Please, my subject, let me see the child." He reached one massive claw out towards Celia, giving her a gentle smile to try and calm her nerves. Unfortunately, Celia's nerves were far too shot to be calmed that easily. Still, she wasn't about to disobey a request from the dragon king. She slowly moved Small Scale towards Bahamut as the ponies and the shaman all watched.
"Noooooo..." Small Scale moaned. "I don't wanna go with the big dragon..."
"He's the king of all dragons, honey," Celia said softly. "I promise that he won't do anything bad to you, okay? Isn't that cool that the king of all dragons wants to see you?"
"I guess..." Small Scale said through sniffles. Celia nodded and passed him into Bahamut's claw.
"Thank you," Bahamut said. Then he looked to the shaman. "Now, why don't you explain to everyone here exactly what you did, hm?" The shaman looked away, frowning.
"I still believe I was doing the right thing," the shaman said. "Ponies are not fit to raise dragons. They need to be raised by their own."
"That is not what I asked of you," Bahamut said, giving him a stern look. The shaman shifted uncomfortably before continuing.
"I lied about the brainwashing," the shaman finally admitted. "I found no traces of brainwashing on Small Scale, but you wanted your child so badly that I couldn't disappoint you. So I concocted a potion that would make him your child. It took away his memories of his upbringing with the ponies and imprinted you as his mother. You wanted a child and you wanted to free him from the ponies, so everyone wins. Admit it, you would have been crushed to hear that you couldn't keep him, correct?"
Celia couldn't believe it. The shaman, the head of the town who was supposed to be the most trustworthy in the land, had lied to her. And all under the guise of acting like it was for her own good.
"No!" Celia insisted. "Absolutely not! Yes, I wanted to keep him, but I made a promise to him that if he was not brainwashed and the love between he and the ponies was true, then he could go home and be with them! I didn't ask you to do that!"
"Think about it logically, Celia," the shaman hissed. "The ponies have hurt others in the past. Surely you couldn't give him back knowing that they might hurt him."
"If I keep him, then I'm stealing him from a family that wants to share their love with him," Celia said through clenched teeth. "I'd be no better than the ponies who stole my egg!"
Then she stopped. Her eyes widened as she thought about what Twilight had said earlier, and a curl of smoke blew from her nose. "Or was that a lie too? This pony here tells me that there is no town of ponies at the bottom of this mountain range."
The shaman fell silent, his face turning pale. Each moment of silence only increased the anger that was beginning to burn inside of Celia.
"Your shaman was apparently working to deceive your entire town into fear under his rule," Celestia said to Celia. "There were no thieving ponies."
"But...my egg..." Celia said, putting a claw to her heart. "What happened to my egg?" The shaman looked away, a sense of fear in his eyes.
"It was sold away," the shaman said. "As were the other 'stolen' eggs in town. I needed a way to keep control of the village and keep the anti-pony sentiment alive, since it seemed the rest of the town was going soft. But I tried to make it up to you by giving you this child, didn't I?"
Celia unleashed a mighty roar as she shot a jet of flame into the sky. It took the combined magical efforts of both Bahamut and Celestia to hold her back from the shaman, and even then it took quite a bit of strain from both. The shaman, for his part, merely cowered, terrified of the rage he had caused. The ponies ran for cover from the thrashing dragoness, terrified that an errant claw or tail would smash into them and send them sailing out of town. It took a solid minute of raging and being held back for Celia to finally wear herself out. When she did, all she had left in her was a torrent of mournful tears. The ponies attempted to move in to comfort her, but the issue of size prevented them from doing very much.
"All to try and propagate hatred between our races," Bahamut said, shaking his head. "This is not the kind of behavior I condone in any of my people, let alone one who is meant to be a figurehead for their townspeople."
"I'm sorry, King Bahamut," the shaman said pitifully, unable to even look up at him.
"Sorry cannot erase the wrongs you have done here," the king said. "You will administer the antidote to your previous potion to the young whelp here, and that will be the last action you take as both a figurehead and a free dragon." The shaman nodded sadly, too upset to even try to argue. He reached into his bag, pulling out a red potion and handing it to Bahamut. The dragon king turned to Small Scale, who had been watching the entire scene in fright.
"Shh," the king said to the scared whelp. "Drink this, and I promise everything will be alright."
The baby dragon shook as he stared at the potion, but something about the tone and poise of the dragon king imbued a sense of trust in him. Shaky claws reached out for the vial, grasping it and bringing it up to his lips. The potion was drained slowly at first, but the baby dragon's haste in drinking it increased as the taste of delicious rubies flooded his taste buds. Soon the entire concoction was gone.
"That was good, mister king," the whelp said, earning a smile from Bahamut. It was only a moment later that his belly began to feel warm. The warmth spread slowly to his arms, legs, and tail, before finally reaching his head. Bit by bit, memories and faces began flooding back, as if the dam that had been holding them back had burst. The force of the memories' return was so intense that it caused the baby dragon to clutch his temples and let out a wail before finally passing out amidst the worried cries of the ponies and the dragoness on hand.
~~~~~~~~~~
Spike felt warm. Wonderfully, wonderfully warm.
He wasn't quite sure when he'd been moved onto a cushion and given a blanket, but regardless, that was the situation he found himself in when he cracked one eye open. The first thing he noticed as he blinked the sunlight out of his eyes were the faces of both Twilight and Celia hanging above him–one obviously higher than the other. The two seemed to be engaged in a conversation that he'd missed the majority of due to his unfortunate unconsciousness. At least he could listen in on the rest of it.
"I can't tell you how terribly, terribly sorry I am for all of this, Princess Twilight," Celia said mournfully. "I know now that it was a horrible thing to do, but I honestly thought..."
"I know, Celia," Twilight said softly. "And I understand. You had the best of intentions. That might not change the fact that what you did was wrong, but it does count for something."
"Thank you, Princess Twilight," Celia said with a sniffle. "I just...I saw this baby dragon, and I was sure he was in danger and I just wanted to care for him and give him a good life...if I had any idea that I was wrong about my impressions of you ponies, then I never would have..."
"Shh," Twilight responded. "It's obvious to me that you have a lot of good in your heart. I don't believe for a moment that you meant any harm with all of this. And please, it's just Twilight. No title necessary."
"Right..." Celia responded. "Your kind words mean lot to a poor, foolish dragoness like me...thank you, Twilight."
"Thank you for taking good care of him in that time," Twilight said with a grin. "However little he may have wanted it. Thank goodness it was a kind dragon like you who found him, rather than someone like that terrible shaman." She gave Celia a little wink. "Besides, I heard him mutter your name a few times in his sleep. You must have left a good impression on him."
"Heehee..." Celia said, blushing lightly. "He was a very sweet, lovable child when he wasn't trying to combat my every obsessive little bit of treatment."
"He's a willful little dragon," Twilight said with a warm smile. "But that's just our Spike. He grows on you quick. But you seem to have grown on him, too. That's why I think this arrangement might work out quite well."
Something about seeing the two get along warmed Spike's heart. He found himself very curious about the "arrangement" mentioned and opened his mouth to finally speak up, when a purple mane poked into view.
"He's awake!" Rarity shouted. "Spikey-Wikey is awake!!" Within moments, Spike found himself ensconced in ponies, all six of his closest friends relentlessly pouring affection upon him. Then he was suddenly lifted from the cushion as he and all six ponies were brought in for a hug from Celia.
"Whoa!" Spike exclaimed. He chuckled a little, blushing intensely at all the affection he was receiving. "Heh...wow...h-hey, I'm glad to see all of you too! That whole last stretch of time was...kinda scary."
"I'm so sorry for that, Sma-" Celia began. Then she shook her head. "...Spike. I can't even express how sorry I am for that whole mess. Had I known that the shaman was lying, I never would have let you take that potion. I would have flown you back to your hometown myself first."
"Don't worry, I know," Spike said, giving her a smile from the middle of the pony pile. "You're way too nice to do something like that on purpose. Just...ask next time you see a baby dragon hanging out on a rock before you take them, okay? Not that I think it's gonna happen a lot more."
"Heehee...will do," Celia said. Her smile was genuine, but a bit sad at the same time. Spike took note of this and waved for her to move her face a bit closer. Once she was close enough, he gave her cheek a nuzzle.
"You're gonna be a good mom someday," Spike said with a smile. "I mean, you took great care of me, and I was a pain in the butt." Celia giggled lightly, then gave Twilight a quick look, as if asking for permission. Once Twilight gave the okay, she leaned in and kissed Spike in the forehead, eliciting a blush from him.
"That means so much to me," Celia said. She gently set the group back down on the cushion, smiling warmly down at them.
"So what happened to that shaman?" Spike asked as he leaned into a hug from Twilight.
"Bahamut took him off to prison," Twilight explained. "He went without a fight. Princess Celestia went with them too. Something about unfinished business? They were very vague about it."
"Good," Spike said. "Hopefully he's put away for a long time."
"It's not nice to wish bad things upon others, Spike," Twilight said sternly. Then her face softened. "But all things considered, I hope you're right." She giggled and gave his cheek a little nuzzle. "I'm so glad to have you back, Spike..."
"And I'm glad to be back," Spike responded. Then he looked between her and Celia. "So what was this arrangement you two were talking about?"
It was quite late by the time everything had been taken care of, and Spike and the girls were tired. But it was all worth it in the end.
Moving a dragon's possessions from one cave to another, especially across such a distance, would have been nigh-impossible under normal circumstances. With the powers of an alicorn princess, though, it was far easier. They were all quite grateful for teleportation magic, but the task of moving all the furniture once it was actually in Celia's new cave was still enough to wear them out.
The dragon town in the mountains wasn't quite as far from Ponyville as Spike had thought. It was still quite a trip, but if he had tried to escape on his own and found his way out of the town, it would have likely only been about a half a day's journey back home. That is, if he chose the right direction to go. He was rather glad he didn't in the long run.
The town was set to choose a new shaman, one who would hopefully not be as corrupt as the previous one. Celia, however, was not around to see it. As it turned out, the cave that the ponies had chased that dragon from a while back was still unclaimed. Plus, it was rather close to Ponyville, making it the perfect new home for Celia. Visiting would be a cinch for Spike, and he vowed to do so as often as he could. And a dragon never broke his vow.
"Are you sure you're ready for bed?" Twilight asked as she opened the door to Spike's room. "I thought 8:00 was too early a bedtime for a mature young dragon like you."
"Normally it is," Spike agreed. "But I think we can both agree that I've had a tiring few days."
"You certainly have," Twilight said, waiting for him to climb into bed. "By the way, Cadence and Shining Armor say hi. And Flurry Heart really wanted to see you."
"She can't even talk yet," Spike said with a smirk, climbing into bed. "How would you know that?"
"Trust me, I know," Twilight said with a giggle. "And before you ask, yes, I did pick you up some of those delicious Crystal Empire gemstones you love so much. I'd give them to you now, but you know my policy about snacks in bed."
"I-I could get out of bed!" Spike offered quickly. A yawn was quick to fight that desire, though.
"They'll be there for you tomorrow," Twilight said with a smile.
"Right..." Spike said. Then he sat up. "Oh! Uh, I have to make a wish to Bahamut before I sleep."
"A wish to Bahamut?" Twilight asked.
"It's a dragon tradition," Spike explained. Twilight giggled lightly.
"Go on, then," the alicorn said.
"I wish," Spike said. "That Celia will be happy and eventually have a whelp of her own."
"That's very noble of you, Spike," Twilight said with a smile. She leaned in and gave Spike a kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight, Spike. I love you."
"I love you too," Spike said, before hesitating for a moment. "...Mom."
Twilight had started to walk out, but turned around at that. She stared at Spike in surprise, tilting her head.
"Was that too much?" Spike asked.
"Not at all," Twilight said, blinking back a few little tears.
~~~~~~~~~~
"So, whose turn is it to raise the sun tomorrow?"
Bahamut gave Celestia a little grin. The manner in which she'd asked was so cheeky, but that came as no surprise. That was exactly the Celestia that he'd known for centuries.
"Perhaps I shall, if you don't mind," Bahamut said. "It's been quite a while."
