Chapter Ten

A Captive Audience

Spike awoke to the feeling of his feet being dragged behind him, with his upper body being supported by two figures. He could barely open his eyes, so swollen they were, but he could at least think now with a clearer head. Where was he? What was happening? What-?

“Release him,” a voice said, which promptly resulted in Spike meeting to cold stone floor beneath him. Rolling over, Spike craned his neck up to see an earth pony standing over him, his long blonde mane stuffed underneath a helm. “So who do we have here?” the stallion asked, leaning over Spike.

The dragon was unable to answer properly: all he could do was cough. The stallion wrinkled his nose at the gesture, but didn’t move. “Let me tell you, then,” he said, standing up straight. “I am Lord Guy de Baux of Marseille, and you dragon, are a stranger in our lands: a very wealthy stranger, by the looks of your carriages.” He circled around the weakened dragon like a falcon circling its prey from high above. “I rule these lands in the name of my king, but I hold the power here. I can do what I want, with whom I want, and the king will never be the wiser. You see, he has enough trouble already uniting the barons to the north. While most of us barons to the south are loyal beyond measure, I myself am a different breed of pony.”

He nudged Spike in the side with his hoof, causing the dragon to cough some more. “I answer only to myself, dragon, and I take what I see as mine. As of right now,” he added, bending over once more and poking Spike in the chest. “You belong to me. Your carriages and whatever they contain, belong to me. Your two lovely mare friends who accompanied you here belong to me as well now. We will see just how far my ownership extends in due time.

Spike grunted, likely some insult, but the stallion didn’t care. “Take him to the dungeons: perhaps he can be a bit chattier with his cellmates.” Two sets of hands roughly picked up the dragon and dragged him off, the rooms becoming darker in Spike’s eyes. Finally, after being dragged further and further down what could only be stairs, he heard a key turn. A metal door with iron bars crisscrossing it opened, and he was unceremoniously tossed inside.

Almost immediately two pairs of hands were upon him once more, but they were gentle, soft, anxious. “Maria? Meia?” the drake croaked out as the two sets of hands rolled him onto his back. “Are you... are you all right?”

“Yes, we’re fine: afraid, but otherwise unharmed,” Maria said, gently stroking Spike’s cheek with one hand. “What about you? Where are we?”

“M-Marseille,” Spike said, another cough coming forth from his lips. “The lord: he’s... he’s a robber baron. He... he said we belong to him now.”

“Hush, hush, just lie still,” Meia said, a tone of worry trembling through her voice. “You need your rest: otherwise you won’t get any better.”

“But... why wouldn’t he tie us up? Isn’t he worried about... about you two using magic to escape?”

“These walls contain magic nullifying spells, I’m afraid,” Meia said, looking around the cell as she did so. “There is nothing we can do, and even if we could, you’re in no condition to travel.”

“Well, I never thought it would come to this,” Spike said, leaning back.

“Imprisonment?” Maria asked.

“No, being injured like this,” the dragon said. “Princess Luna had always told me dragons were nigh invulnerable to many forms of attack, but it seems blunt force trauma still can pack a wallop.” He would have chuckled, if not for the fact that his head hurt too much. “Thankfully some of her teachings can be useful right now.”

“What do you mean?” Meia asked, looking down at the dragon.

“Please remove your hands, and I’ll show you,” he replied. As soon as they did so, he breathed out a tongue of green flame. It coursed over his body like water cascading down rapids, until he was covered in it. To their further astonishment, he spoke through the green blaze.

“Don’t worry: this is just a way us dragons accelerate the healing process. I’ll be better in a few hours: you might want to get some rest.”

Worried for the burning dragon before them, but exhausted from the ordeal, the two unicorns lay side by side and went to sleep as best they could on the straw in the far corner. It was far from ideal, but it was far enough from Spike so that it wouldn’t catch fire.

A few hours later, Spike arose as the flames covering him extinguished themselves. Looking around, he saw the two unicorns rousing from their sleep, both looking slightly more refreshed than when he had gone under his healing process.
“Anything happen while I was out?” he asked, rising up and walking over. He pulled them both into a hug, feeling better now that they were all back together.

“No, but Maria overheard some guards awhile back talking about another new arrival,” Meia said, looking out of the iron bars.

Just then, the door swung open again and a smaller pony was thrown inside, to the laughing if the guards. They shut and locked the door in a flash, leaving the three looking at the small, crumpled pony laying before them.

“Is he all right?” Maria asked, approaching what looked to be a colt. He couldn’t have been more than ten years old, judging from his small size.

Spike leaned down next to the small pony and gently turned him over, checking for injuries. “Are you all right kid?” he asked.

The little colt let out a cry. “Daddy,” he sobbed, clutching to Spike’s body with surprising force. He wouldn’t let go, even when Spike sat upright. “Where’s my daddy?”

Spike didn’t know what to do at the moment, so he hugged the poor colt back. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” he replied as Maria kneeled down next to them.

“What’s your name?” she asked, sitting closer to the little colt. He let go of Spike to rub his eyes: he had been crying for a while, judging from the redness around them.

“P-Pierre,” he said, his voice still trembling. “I can’t find my daddy. Do you know where he is?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” Maria said as the little colt nearly fell over into her lap. He was clearly exhausted, but for some reason he had managed to stay awake. “What is you daddy’s name?”

“I-I don’t know,” Pierre said, holding his arms against his chest as if hugging himself. “Uncle Luke will know.”

“Uncle Luke? Who is he?” Spike asked, perplexed. The boy did not carry himself like a boy his age, even though he clearly acted his age.

“Well, my uncle’s name is Louis, but he likes it better when I call him Luke,” the small colt said, his golden mane complementing his dark blue coat nicely.

“Louis,” Spike repeated, as if trying to remember the name. “What does he do for a living?”

“He usually meets with other ponies from all over in his big house,” the colt said, his eyes drooping. “Most of them are nice, but some can be mean to me. they call me short, chubby, a baby. Not uncle Luke: he calls me his little prince.” His eyes closed and he fell asleep soon after, the kind of sleep that few could rouse a child from.

Spike, Meia and Maria looked at one another: they had all made the connection as well. Any escape plan would have to be put on hold until this little colt was better, for this was no ordinary colt.

“This colt is...” Meia began.

“Yes, Meia,” Spike said. “He is the nephew to the king of Prance: Prince Pierre.”

So it was that Spike and his two companions came into the presence of a young colt who had more in store for himself than any of them could have guessed, and they were all good guessers. The next night, after receiving no word from either the guards or Lord Guy de Baux save for some bread and some water, Spike and Pierre fell asleep first, the small colt cuddling up alongside the dragon as though he were a security blanket. Which, basically, he was: he gave off enough heat to keep the little guy warm in the colder cell.

Maria and Meia sat together on a pile of straw, which Spike had managed to not only dry without torching but clumped it together so that they made decent beds. Still, they both slowly watched the rising and falling of Spike’s chest as he drowsed, casting glances at little Pierre at times. For so small a colt and having been through so much, his serene state seemed to be a note of happiness in so dark and dank a place such as they were in.

Maria glanced over at Meia surreptitiously. “Meia,” she said slowly.

“Hm? Yes?” she said back, tearing her eyes away from Spike.

“You can cut the act,” Maria said. “I know what it is you hide: all of it.”

Meia blinked. “All of what?” she asked, doing her best to feign ignorance. How could she have found out?

“You talk in your sleep, Meia,” Maria said, looking her harder in the eyes. “Don’t pretend I don’t notice the way you look at him.”

Oh: she noticed that. In her mind, Meia exhaled a breath she hadn’t been holding. Her true secret remained safe. “So?” she said. “Do you have a problem when I look at your husband?”

Maria didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Actually, no: I have no problem with your feelings for him,” she said, looking back at Spike. “I understand your position: he is a most handsome devil, is he not? No mare in her right mind would look at him and deny any sort of attraction.”

Meia was becoming more and more confused: what was this all about?

“I know you care for him, perhaps more than you would care to admit,” Maria said, looking back at the other unicorn. “I can tell by the way he acts around you that he has deep-seated feeling for you as well, though he has yet to acknowledge them.”
Damn: this Maria really knew how to read a fellow pony. “So what are you saying?” Meia asked.

“Your feelings for him are long: I can tell, as Spike told me you’ve been with him since he left the shores of Manehattan,” the noble unicorn said. “I can see it in your face when you look at him, that same look present, no doubt, on my face when I do the same.”

“What would that be?” Meia asked, though she had a feeling she knew the answer.

“Love,” Maria said simply. “You love him, don’t you?”

Meia spluttered for a few seconds, almost choking up on her response. “I... but he... how... you... fine,” she managed, sighing. “Yes, I do have feelings for him: he’s saved my life twice now, possibly more if you think about it. He’s always been there for me, never asking for more than I can give. I’m a burden to him, and yet he doesn’t think of me like that. I just... I just don’t know what to do.”

“Ask him to marry you,” Maria said, sending a bolt of shock running through the disguised changeling’s body. Say what now?

“Marry him?” Meia asked finally. “But... but we’re imprisoned! How in world would that monstrous lord even allow such a thing?”

“After we escape, Miss Morphos,” Maria responded, slowly and as if she were talking to a small foal. “Then you can ask him. As for now, I think he needs to know just how you feel.”

“But... but...” Meia said, but Maria cut her off with a stern glance.

“Show him tomorrow night, if nothing sudden happens. I’ll have little Pierre sleep by me, but be sure to be quiet about it: as spacious as this cell is, it wouldn’t do good for him to wake up to two adults ‘expressing’ their feelings towards one another, now would it?”

Meia was aghast, both inside and out, at just how unique this unicorn was. She did not want to hoard her husband, showed compassion for those who were conflicted, and even gave advice to those who would never ask for it. Spike had really lucked out with this one. “If... if you’re sure,” Meia said.

“Absolutely,” Maria said, lying down on the straw bed. “You’d best get some rest: I have no idea what tomorrow may bring, but it can’t be much worse than our current predicament.”

Meia lay down as well, her back to Maria as the noble unicorn’s breathing soon became deep and rhythmic. “She doesn’t know of my plans, and yet she knows of my feelings,” she muttered to herself, her eyes settling shut. “We’ll see if she can make good on her promises.”

Early the next morning, all four occupants of the cell were rudely awakened by the door swinging open and two guards entering. “You two: get up,” they said, pointing at Maria and Pierre.

“Whatever for?” Maria asked, protectively moving to stand in front of little Pierre.

“Next cell just opened up: looks like you’re getting a new place to stay,” one said with a sneer. He reached out to grab her, but she swatted his hand away and stood as tall as she could.

“I am Maria Almareconraddo del Rivioso, wife of Spike the dragon: I am perfectly capable of showing myself to my new quarters,” she said politely but firmly, grabbing Pierre’s hand in her own. Both guards actually took a step back at the fire in her eyes before recovering their composure. Still, when she and the little colt walked out, they made sure to not stand too close to her.

Ever-so-slightly, Maria glanced back over her shoulder and gave Meia a small nod. Then the guards closed the door behind them, and their footsteps faded until the shutting of a nearby cell door could be heard. In the distance, a low rumble of thunder could be heard: the storm Twilight's letter had told about had arrived.

Meia and Spike said nothing to each other for the rest of the day: what more was there to say that had already not been said? Well, in most cases, that would be a correct assumption, but Chrysalis could not hold back Meia’s feelings any longer, since they were her feelings as well.

As much as she had tried to avoid it, as hard as she had tried, she had fallen in love with that charming dragon. His manners, his physique, his objective politeness and his charming personality... they were what all mares craved in a stallion, but to her, one who had gone so long without physical company that it actually hurt to think of her own feelings, it was like an addiction. Like a moth drawn to a flame, she was drawn to this magnificent drake, and now she didn’t care if she got burned.

Night approached, or so it seemed, as the guards did say it was time for dinner. After eating some bread and what seemed to be mushroom stew, the two sat in their cell, the only light filtering in from the torches outside their doors. The thunder outside continued, and even though they were far below, the pair could tell it was raining heavily outside: it seemed colder than usual in the cell. Still, whoever had made the cell had done a fine job sealing it up: no water dripped through from above.

“Spike,” Meia said, not knowing if he was even awake. Another rumble of thunder, almost on top of the castle, tore through the sky, its effect humbled by the thick stone.

“Yes?” he responded, settling that debate. “What is it, Meia?”

“I... I talked to Maria before,” she said, thinking back. “Last night, when you and little Pierre were asleep, she told me... things.”

“Things?” Spike asked, sounding interested. “What kind of things?”

“Oh to Tartarus with it,” Meia said, her nerves steeled more so than they had been for the invasion of Canterlot. Crossing the room, the sat down on Spike’s lap: before he could protest or say anything, she captured his lips in a deep, passion-filled kiss. For a second he lay there, shocked at her actions. Then, ever-so slowly, he began to kiss her back.

She drew back for air, letting him speak for what felt like the first time in hours. “You... what... huh?” Spike asked, terribly conflicted over the emotions toiling in his mind.

“I love you, Spike,” Meia said, the truth soaking every word she uttered. “I love you: I just couldn’t see it before. Maria could even see it, and it was she who suggested I do this.”

“Maria? But why?” Spike asked, even Meia began to grind herself against him. The thunder outside rumbled more, and if they had had a window, they would have seen lightning flashing across the sky like bolts from an angry god.

“Because she cares for others besides herself, Spike,” Meia said, kissing him again. “She gave me her blessing to ask for your hand in marriage.”

All right, now Spike went from confused to downright stunned. “But... but,” he said, his words becoming less and less coherent. "But...now? It... uh." His words failed him as Meia's face drew close to his once more. He had never noticed before just how beautiful she was.

“If we ever get out of this, the first thing you’re going to do is marry me, Spike,” Meia said, slowly undoing her clothes on top of the dragon. “But first things first: right now, I want you to love me. Love me like I love you, you handsome drake.”

Spike was silent for a moment as his mind caught up with him, but then he slowly began to undo his own clothes. Meia smiled in accomplishment as the two of them shed their clothes at an increasing pace, until they were both completely naked in the dungeon cell.

“Well, it seems there is more to you than meets the eye, Spike,” Meia said, looking down at his now-throbbing erection. “We’d best make this quick and quiet, or else the guards might hear us.”

Spike nodded, though he was surprised when Meia pushed him down onto his backside so that he was sitting up with his back to the wall. “Meia, what-,”

“Shh,” she said, kissing him to quiet him up. “Just sit there and love me, all right?”

“Okay,” Spike said, spreading his legs so she could sit comfortably on him. Well, ‘sit’ was more of a loose definition.

Spreading her own legs and revealing her glistening mare-hood to Spike’s view, Meia slowly sat down until the tip of Spike’s throbbing shaft nuzzled the very edge of her nether region. She let out a very soft whinny at the contact, which had also made the fur on her pelt stand on end slightly. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered herself onto the throbbing shaft, her body clenching involuntarily at so large an invader. She made it about half-way before she stopped, the feeling of being full so overwhelming she could have sworn she started hallucinating.

Spike’s eyes seemed to glow in the darkness with a green flame, his darkened features giving him the appearance of a demonic lover. But a lover nonetheless, for his hands reached up to Meia’s sides and clasped her around the slim waist, holding her in position. Slowly, he pushed her down more onto him, capturing her lips in time to arrest a squeal of pain and pleasure. She rocked her hips from side to side, churning the massive piece of meat inside her while her inner walls clenched and unclenched. Then the mighty dragon beneath her began to raise her off of him, only to lower her back down faster than before.

Just then, she orgasmed; whether from the fact that she had never taken something like inside her or she had gone so damn long without a good rut, she hadn’t a clue. Needless to say, she felt another one hit as soon as he had pulled her up and slammed her back down onto him. And they just kept coming, one right after the other: a stream of orgasms the likes of which even the most debauched author could only dream about. The thunder outside cascaded in time with her body's shocks, as if both were tied to the lightning flashing through the heavens.

Spike quietly grunted as he bounced the beautiful unicorn in his lap, his tongue twisting out to lap at her breasts and nipples like a very horny snake. She moaned more and more, and yet somehow managed to keep her volume lower than many would in her situation.

Then suddenly, she clamped down on him harder than before, just as he hit his peak. With a grunt he released his seed into her, his shaft sliding with the sudden extra lubrication until he had bottomed out in her. Still he pumped as she squeezed harder, the force almost making him wince.

In Meia’s mind, she felt plans and years of work shatter within an instant: all she could do was ride this last, powerful orgasm as she felt the mighty shaft beneath her pump her full of seed. Her belly began to distend slightly from the amount, but none spilled out, even as the flow soon came to a stop. She was exhausted, so tired that she couldn’t rise. She simply fell over onto Spike’s chest, her breathing heavy as could be. Her heart beat in time with his: erratic and fast.

“I... love you, Spike,” she managed to croak as the post-orgasmic bliss overtook her.

“I love you too, Meia,” Spike whispered, his voice slightly hoarse after their bout. Feeling her breathing slow eventually, his eyes closed as well, his warm shaft still buried inside the beautiful mare.

It was like this when they awoke early the next morning, though judging from the lack of sounds outside, nobody else had yet woken up.

“Oh, my,” Meia said groggily as she felt something stir inside her. She looked down to see Spike’s eye opening too. “Seem’s like someone woke up before either of us.”

“Mmm, he’s got a mind of his own,” Spike said sleepily, though anyone could tell he was rapidly waking up.

“Again?” Meia asked, forlornly getting up off of him as his shaft slid out with a pop.

“Yes,” he said, rising to his feet. He looked over at Meia, who had placed her hands against the wall and had spread her legs. Her glistening marehood shone in the dull light of the torches, her toned rear showing curves that would bring a lesser stallion to his knees.

“Well?” she said, looking over her shoulder with a seductive look that sent half of Spike’s blood supply into his nether regions. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you-,”

Her words were cut off by Spike crossing the distance in the blink of an eye and stuffing himself into her. She would have gasped, had his hand not covered her mouth. Letting it drop to her sides, he lay his back over hers and whispered into her ear.

“We’ll still need to be quiet.” Before she could respond, he withdrew to almost the tip, and then slammed back into her, earning a hushed gasp. Oh, by the stars above, he was going deeper than the night before!

“Ohh,” she moaned as he withdrew again and slammed into her, causing her breasts to bounce. One of Spike’s hands placed itself next to hers on the wall, while the other snaked around and latched onto one of her breasts, squeezing it and tweaking the nipple. She moaned more and more as he thrust into her, her arms shaking already.

Soon enough, whether from the early- morning sleepiness or sudden exhaustion, she let her arms drop, only to be caught by Spike before she could slam into the wall. Never missing a beat, he lay her face-down on the straw and began to vigorously shove himself into her, raising himself up slightly so as to change the angle from which he entered.

Meia’s mind was going through emotions she had never known existed. She arched her lower body to give him better access, her back forming a semi-circle as she raised her rear. With each thrust her breasts plowed into the hay, deforming it underneath her body. Spike grabbed he firm ass and spread her slightly, only to ram in harder than before. The pounding increased in speed until he was a blur behind her, his shaft pistoning in and out of her like there was no tomorrow.

Oh, by the sun and moon above, this was exquisite. Her body was on fire, her throat ready to unleash moan after moan from Spike's relentless pounding. He was like an animal in this state: conscious thought giving way to a primal side that both scared and thrilled her to no end. Just the thought of his ridged shaft entering her had sent chills through her body: the actual thing was infinitely better.

Just like that, she came, biting down into the straw to not scream out. Her inner walls clenched hard, so much so that Spike soon came too, erupting more of his seed into her womb. Beneath her, Meia could feel her belly swell more than it had the night before, but thankfully her changeling physiology allowed for such expansion. Still, when Spike lay on top of her and pulled out with a wet pop, she felt utterly full.

“That was...” she began unable to finish as Spike rolled off to her side and lay down next to her.

“Yeah,” he said, capturing her lips in a kiss. “Yeah, it was.”

They dressed quickly when they heard some guards moving outside the door.

Author's Notes:

Well, it seems another has fallen to Spike's charming ways. The question is, how will they escape? What will happen next? Stay tuned to find out!

Also, damn: Spike is the luckiest guy-er, I mean dragon,- in the world.