AN: Just a bit of copyrighted fun to be had by taking a childhood classic and mixing it with the Merlin characters. As usual I own nothing but because I've been writing so much angst lately I wanted to lighten things up a bit.
Home.
A place where you belonged, a place where you were happy, a place where you were loved. It could be where you were born or where you came to. Everyone had a place they could call home, didn't they? Most people did but then there were some who didn't have a home for various reasons. Some didn't have that special place where they could be happy and safe and loved. Gwen used to have a home, now she didn't and that was what she was trying to do; she was trying to find somewhere that she could call home even though she knew that nowhere she went would be anything like the place she called home.
After being kidnapped by Helios, Gwen had left the village she had been living in and followed Merlin's advice; travelling to Ealdor and staying with Hunith. Merlin's mother had always been sweet and accepted Gwen into her home warmly, even though she clearly knew what had happened in Camelot. Gwen couldn't put into words how much she appreciated all Hunith had done for her and while Ealdor was a nice village and undoubtedly a good place to live; it just wasn't Camelot. She just didn't feel at home there. It had been nearly two months since her exile but the homesickness Gwen felt was as strong as ever; it wasn't a physical wound that faded, but an emotional wound. One that she carried around inside her every minute of the day simply because there was no way of curing it. She couldn't go home. Not if she valued her life that is.
At this moment in time, it was early evening and Gwen had decided to take a walk around the woods just outside the village. It was one of the villagers' birthdays but Gwen didn't feel like taking part in the celebrations and so had headed off on her own. As she walked, a sudden loud rumble of thunder caused Gwen to jump as the clouds above her were an ominous shade of grey and moments later the rain began to fall and the wind picked up and became fierce. A storm was coming. Gwen pulled her cloak tighter around her and ran to find some sort of shelter and she came across an old small stone house that looked abandoned. Knowing some shelter was better than no shelter from a storm; Gwen hurried to the door and pushed it open.
The inside of the house was bare but it was relatively dry and Gwen sat on the floor and drew her cloak tighter around herself as she waited for the storm to ease off. The storm however seemed to increase in intensity and caused the whole house to start shaking. The next thing she knew, Gwen was being flung around like a rag doll as the whole house seemed to lift up into the air. Gwen stared at the window but could see nothing but what looked like the air itself actually spinning around.
Then it stopped and she hit the floor with a thud, landing on her head and passing out.
When she came to, Gwen was aware of something moving close to her head. She heard a whooshing noise, like someone was breathing on her! Gwen shot upright and moved back in shock at the sight of a little white winged creature. No not a creature, a dragon! For a moment there was silence as Gwen stared the little dragon out. It must only be a baby, Gwen reasoned, it was far, far smaller than the Great Dragon but that didn't mean it could be any less vicious. Dragons were dragons after all. Gwen rubbed the spot where she had hit her head but there was nothing. no bump, no pain, how was that possible?
Just as she thought that, the little dragon squawked slightly, causing Gwen to look at it.
"Did you do this?" Gwen asked and the little dragon nodded its head. So it understood her. Interesting. Gwen smiled; she supposed the dragon was quite sweet. "Thank you."
Gwen got up and looked around. The storm must have died out while she'd been passed out. There was silence around her and sunlight was streaming in through the window. Sunlight, she must have been asleep all night. Gwen went to move towards the door before she realised something important, her clothes had changed from her favourite lavender dress to a blue and white checked dress that came to the middle of her calf with white ankle socks and her hair had been put into two bunches, a hairstyle she hadn't worn since childhood.
"How on earth?" Gwen muttered as she ran a hand over one of the bunches before she cautiously walked towards the door. So much strange stuff was happening here; her clothing changing, the mysterious little dragon… She still couldn't get over that, an actual dragon. Wasn't the Great Dragon killed by… Gwen stopped herself. She didn't want to go down that road right now. Memory Lane wasn't her favourite place right now.
"Do you have a name?" Gwen asked, not even bothering to feel foolish, she'd done stranger things in her life than try and speak to a dragon, but it was definitely in the top three. The dragon made a strange rasping, hissing noise that sounded vaguely like a name.
"Aithusa?" Gwen repeated and the little dragon, Aithusa, nodded. "Thank you Aithusa, but I think we both need to head back now, don't you?"
Gwen pushed open the door and stepped outside. She froze and took in her surroundings. It seemed to be a village with an assortment of brightly coloured buildings and large flowers blooming freely. The entire village was covered with eye-watering shades of reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues and purples and every other colour there was. Gwen took a step forward to take in the unusual sights better before looking back at the house which looked like it must have been flung from a great height before down at Aithusa who was at her feet.
"Aithusa, I get the feeling we're not in Ealdor anymore."
