"Come on, Doctor, come on," muttered Merlin as he focused his magic on the Doctor's body. Why was the ice melting so slowly? Usually, it all just collapsed into a puddle, but this time, it came off in slow drips. Merlin kept track of his pulse, which was getting weaker and weaker. He was almost sure that one of his hearts had already given out.

He wasn't paying attention to the trajectory of the TARDIS, and right now, he couldn't care less about the direction it took. It was floating idly along, when suddenly, it sped up. It started to shake. Alarms started blaring. Yet Merlin paid no attention. After a few minutes of this havoc, the TARDIS stopped. Merlin sighed with relief.

Then, the TARDIS plummeted. Merlin and the Doctor got lifted up off the ground as the TARDIS fell, deadly equipment missed Merlin by inches as he kept his hands on the Doctor. After about a minute of just falling, there was a resounding BOOM as the TARDIS crashed.

All noises ceased. It appeared that they had landed somewhere. Luckily, Merlin and the Doctor had landed by the door. Merlin pushed it open. What he saw made no sense. The ground was covered in tiny little trees. Not saplings, trees. Fully developed trees. Then what was blocking the light from the sky? He looked up, and saw that the canopy was formed of grass and flowers. Flowers the size of trees, and trees the size of flowers. He was itching to explore more.

He closed the door, and searched the TARDIS for something to keep the Doctor warm. He found a space heater in one of the many rooms, set the Doctor in a chair with 3 blankets wrapped around his shoulders, turned it on and pointed it at him. He stepped back, admiring his handiwork, then set out into the strange world before him.

As he walked, his eyes dashed in every direction, drinking in every detail. Tiny little deer the size of squirrels pranced past his feet, hummingbirds the size of dinosaurs sipped nectar from the gargantuan flowers, the rivers flowed uphill instead of down, and instead of the rivers being cool and refreshing, they were rather hot and bubbling.

As he was cooling a cupful of water with magic, he heard a small call from the base of a flower nearby. He quickly gulped down the liquid, then moved cautiously toward the noise. He lined his body up with the stem in case there was something menacing behind it, then carefully leaned out. He saw nothing accept colossal shrubs and blankets of moss. The call resounded again. He looked down and beheld a majestic, golden eagle the size of a sparrow. It looked up at him with solemn eyes, and let out its feeble call once more. He picked it up carefully, inspecting it for injuries, and noticed that its wing was twisted at an odd angle.

"Oh, you poor thing," he muttered quietly. "What have you done to yourself?" The eagle gazed up at him reproachfully, and wriggled a bit, trying to get away.

"Oi, your wing's broken, you're not going anywhere," he scolded, trying to keep the animal still. "Just let me heal you." The eagle kept wiggling.

"All right then," Merlin sighed, "looks like I'm going to have to force you into it." He rested a hand lightly on the injured wing, ignoring the eagle's protests. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the healing spell used on animals. He had hardly ever used it before. He steeled himself, and incanted, "Becnâwan me, ofl¯ætan me gîeman êow."

The eagle let out a screech as the wing righted itself, then stretched it out to the side, testing it. It gazed up at Merlin in what seemed like gratitude, still flapping its wings. Then, without warning, it took off with a screech. Merlin watched it fly, noticing its erratic pattern. It must be afraid of something, but of what? He stilled, taking note of his surroundings. The water bubbled, the flowers swayed, the trees crunched underfoot, wind caused by the hummingbird wings ruffled his hair. Then, the water rippled, the flowers quivered and the hummingbirds zoomed away. The ground quaked, and Merlin was knocked off his feet. When he sat up, rubbing his head, a sound echoed through the forest, a fearsome… croak?

Merlin scrambled to his feet as a massive bullfrog leaped into the clearing. It eyed him for a moment, probably deciding if he was food. Merlin stood, frozen, as the frog eyed him. When it did nothing, he began to let down his guard. It was a frog, after all, what harm could it do?

This thought was immediately banished when the frog reared back its head and released another croak, and more thumps resounded through the forest, undoubtedly more gigantic frogs hopping toward them. Merlin scrambled back as six more emerged from the flowers, and all seven gathered around him. They stared unnervingly at him, in complete silence for some time before they all began croaking excitedly. Merlin caught glimpses of shark teeth between their slimy lips. They're carnivorous?

That question was answered when one of the frogs unhinged its jaw, and its tongue jetted forward, aimed straight for his face. He dove at the last second, avoiding the tongue, and began running in the opposite direction. He sprinted as best as he could while crushing trees under his shoes and avoiding swaying flower stems. He thought he was making good time until one of the frogs flew through the air above his head, and landed right in front of him. He skidded to a stop, and began running the other way. All he earned from the decision was another faceful of frog. They had created a circle around him, and they were closing in, croaking triumphantly. Merlin quickly flicked through the plethora of spells in his mind. He shot fire at them, which did nothing, he didn't even bother with the water, he shot poison darts at them, which just glanced off harmlessly. He exhausted every spell he used. Accept for one. But he hadn't seen her in years, not since he healed her as a baby. She might be dead. It was a long shot, but it was all he had at this point. As the frogs closed in around him, he shouted, "O, Dragarn, ftengomai au se kallon soi katerkheo deuro!"

The frogs smothered him and soon, all he saw was slimy green flesh and razor-sharp teeth. He closed his eyes, preparing to die, when he heard an ear splitting roar. One of the frogs shrieked as it was engulfed in scarlet flames, and Merlin curled up on the ground, arms around his head to protect himself from the blaze. He heard another frog squeal and a squelch as claws dug into it. In short, he heard each frog's grisly death as he lay on the ground, protecting himself.

Then, silence. Merlin stayed on the ground, just in case. Then, he heard a muffled splash. He lifted his head to behold the slashed and burned carcassas of the frogs, but not the perpetrator. There were more splashes from beyond the flowers. He walked carefully through them, hardly daring to believe it. He had last seen her when she was a baby, crippled and alone. After healing her, he left her to fend for herself in the mountains of Alaska, at her insistence. She would be all grown up now.

He moved through the flowers until they thinned out and led to a lake. In it was a beautiful white dragon. She was as tall as 15 men, her scales flashed like opals in the sun, throwing rainbows across the water, horns curved gracefully from her head, and thin spikes stuck out from her spine, adding a menacing edge to her beauty. She turned her eyes on Merlin, their sapphire shade matching his exactly.

"Aithusa," he whispered, shocked. She had been ill, forlorn, and the size of a large dog when he last laid eyes on her: he couldn't believe the magnificent beast that stood before him. She kept her eyes on him, her gaze unwavering, like she was trying to communicate something to him, and that's when he remembered that she was unable to speak.

At least, so he thought. He felt something brush across his consciousness, a warmth, a presence, and he recoiled instinctively out of surprise. He had learned to guard his mind from many an evil: he hated the idea that someone could delve through his mind, and took every measure to ensure that his memories remained his. It had been many years since he considered using this power for communication instead of a weapon. The last time he had used it to speak was when he was young, and living in Camelot, communicating with the druids as he did. He believed this is what Aithusa was going for.

He lowered the barriers around his mind hesitantly, almost expecting someone to attack. Again, the presence touched his mind, and this time, he welcomed it into his thoughts. Warmth filled his mind, and he soon realized that this was a result of the dragon's emotions: she was happy to see him.

"Merlin," she cooed, in a soft, modulated voice, her voice slipping like honey through his thoughts. "I have been alone for forever and a day, and it gladdens my heart to see you once more."

"I feel the same," he choked, for he was suddenly overcome with emotion. He felt like he was looking at his own child, all grown up, and nostalgia gripped him tight. "You're so… big." He winced at the simplicity of the statement, knowing that phrase alone did not encompass his wonder. But he felt a rush of pleasure through their newly forged mental link, and thought that if she could, she would have blushed.

"That I am," she laughed, wading through the water, and alighting upon the shore. "I have had hundreds of years, after all. I have done well for myself." She lowered her head so that she was looking Merlin directly in the eyes. "You seem so small for one so powerful," she joked, and she licked his nose lightly. "But then again, you almost lost your life to a handful of amphibians. The prophets of old would have had a laugh at that."

Merlin rolled his eyes as her laughter filled his mind.

"There is something that did not change: your childishness," he admonished lightly, poking her gently on the nose.

"Oh please, little one. Life is too long to grow up." He looked at her for a moment, then studied his shoes. Her gaze softened. "I see that you have endured much, and many a demon troubles your mind. I know what you have done, Merlin, and you need not explain yourself to me. Our world is in great peril, but so is this one. The peoples here require your assistance, and if you want to get anywhere with our world, you need to save this one first."

He looked up at her again, confused. Yes, he had seen trees and flowers switch places, along with man-eating frogs, but this world did not seem to be in peril, as Aithusa said.

"What's wrong here? What's the danger?" he asked her.

"I will let the natives present their plight," she answered. "I will take you to them." She lowered herself onto the ground, and looked at him expectantly. It had been thousands of years since he had ridden a dragon, and was worried that he might either impale himself on one of Aithusa's spines, or fall off and have his corpse eaten by frogs. "If this is going to work," Aithusa warned, feeling his doubt, "You need to trust me. Wholly and completely."

"I do trust you," he reassured her, clambering awkwardly onto her back.

"How can I be sure of that when you do not even trust yourself?" she asked. Merlin stayed silent. "Please. I can feel your loathing toward yourself. You assume everyone feels the same as you do, Merlin, as is the case with doubt. But know this: no matter what you have done, no matter what you will do, nothing will keep me from loving you." Sudden tears formed in Merlin's eyes at her words. If he could earn the trust from one such as Aithusa, maybe he could put some trust back into himself.

"Now come, we must be off," murmured Aithusa gently. "My little dragonlord."