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Chapter Text

Eragon felt numb. He had left Arya and Alagaësia two moons ago but still felt a deep pain in his chest whenever he thought of her. Or about Roran, Katrina, Orik and all the friends he had left behind when he decided to carry on this travel. He knew it was the right choice, but it still pained him and he knew that his heart would ache for a long time if not forever for his lost friends.

He also felt Saphira's pain through their bond. While she didn't have as many links as Eragon with Alagaësia, she also had lived her entire life there and had just recently gained some joy with Firnen's hatching. Since their encounter, the two dragons had spent a lot of time together. Saphira had been more than happy to be in the company of another dragon, one closer to her age than Glaedr.

Some knowledge could only be learnt in such company. The people in Urû'baen had gone through numerous nights filled with dragon's roars along with blue and green shots of flames above the habitations.

So Eragon knew that she deeply missed the green dragon and, on a different scale, Thorn, with whom she shared this unique bond created by her seventy years long captivity as an egg in Urû'baen.

At the moment, Eragon was inside his cabin, eyes closed, meditating while Saphira was flying above the ship. He was reinforcing his mental shields and Aren's reserves with the help of the Eldunaris. He knew it would probably come in handy in the coming months, for there were sailing into the unknown.

His mind was open, like all these times ago at the Crags of Tel'naeir in what seemed like a lifetime ago. But this time, instead of ants, Eragon felt the vastness of the sea and the presence of hundreds of tiny fish, from the tiniest shrimp whose life seemed so fragile to the enormous whales, reflecting waves of peace. But Eragon was having troubles concentrating properly. He had troubles focusing on tasks. Arya's face kept coming into his thoughts or her smile, their moments spent training together, her delicate smell of pinewood… No matter what he was doing or thinking, she kept coming back into his thoughts. The Eldunaris had tried to ease his pain, by talking about the Riders of the past, about their achievements, their functioning ... But Eragon still felt the emptiness caused by their separation and only Saphira was able to bring a smile to his face these days.

He still remembered his last moments with her. She had been on this boat, on the deck, holding hands with him. They both knew it would be a long farewell. He remembered her soft lips, pronouncing his True name. He knew she would remember him, just like he would remember her.

And yet, he knew that soon, he would have to recover if he wanted to properly train the new generation of Rider and before that, build a suitable place to welcome and host them. He couldn't risk the future of the Cast, of the Dragons because of his missing relationship. He knew it but that still didn't make it easier for him.

But Eragon also felt numb from the cold surrounding him. The air was so chilly that Eragon was brought back to his travel to Vroengard from last year. Without Glaedr's guidance, they would surely have frozen to death in their last mission. This time, they were slightly protected by the boat but the place grew wet and cold;

Since their clothes weren't adapted for this chilly weather, Eragon, and the twenty elves who had decided to follow him, had to use magic to keep the warmth in and to prevent them from freezing to death. Thankfully, the Eldunaris were able to provide the energy required for this consuming spell. Saphira also was bothered by the cold and was often complaining about it to Eragon.

That's why most elves could often be found in their own cabin, meditating, reading scrolls written in Ancient Language or exchanging with the most talkative Eldunaris. Indeed, many of them were still haunted by their captivity at Galbatorix hands. It would take time and energy to help them recover and some would probably be lost for a long time if not forever.

Such cold was unheard of in Alagaësia. They had even started to see large blocks of ice floating on the water, blocks sometimes larger than Saphira, Glaedr when he was alive or even Shruikan. They had already needed Saphira's hot flames twice to clear a passage through the ice and would probably need her help more in the coming future. They knew they wouldn't be able to keep up forever if the cold were to continue like this or worse, decrease

The cold was also preventing Eragon from flying with Saphira and was thus also keeping him in his cabin. Indeed, the energy required to keep him warm at high altitude would probably be too important and a waste in view of the tasks awaiting them. Saphira, who was probably close to fire being made flesh was able to keep her body at a high temperature but she was still learning to regulate this temperature. Usually, her internal temperature would be enough to keep Eragon warm. However, this extreme weather was making most of her scales cold as steel. That's why she had asked advice from dragons who had lived in the mountains to learn how to slightly increase her internal temperature to keep her Rider warm enough without draining him of his precious energy.

Eragon still tried to come at least once a day on the deck, to be close to Saphira and talk to her directly. Sometimes, they would also simply lay on the deck, without speaking. They had nothing to hide to each other. Saphira was part of him, his Name was proof of it. So, they were often seen laying there, simply enjoying each other's presence after their first years full of dangers and adventures. He would absently stroke her scales or take a nap under her wing. Their common pain and sadness had brought them closer.

For the first time, Eragon and Saphira didn't have a sword of Damocles hanging over their heads. No Ra'zacs to hunt, cities to siege, spells to learn in order to kill a mad king, magicians to monitor or even wildlife to hunt in order to feed his family in Eragon's case. No, truly, for the first time of their lives, they were living in peace and without life threatening or stressful quest to complete.

Yes, Eragon knew the future of the Riders and the Cast laid on his shoulders, but he felt prepared and had willingly chosen it. He knew that the Eldunaris would help him, just like Murthag and Arya would in Alagaësia. He had already started to think about the course lesson or the way the future layout would look like and was surprised by how excited these thoughts made him.

Aside from Saphira and occasionally Eragon, there was always one elf on the deck, who would be guiding the boat and watching for any sign of coast with his or her heightened senses, They had also to make sure no danger, like pirates, would reach them. Darkness wasn't an issue for elven eyes. The 'guide' of the Talita would change every few hours. So far, they had navigated, without seeing anyone for the past two months. But they had learned to be cautious with the previous wars.

Thankfully, they had enough supplies to continue their travel for a few weeks at least before having to turn back to refill their stock of perishable goods. But deep down, Eragon and the elves felt that something was waiting for them, close. Angela's prophecy wouldn't be beaten by something as simple as a lack of food and Eragon felt Saphira's unspoken agreement to this statement.

Saphira was able to find enough fish in the deep and cold sea to sustain herself. The Eldunaris and Eragon were careful to scan every time the water to prevent any fateful encounter with an unknown enemy or possible Nïdhwal (a maritime specie related to dragons and which could grow bigger than a small house). Eragon still remembered the fear they had felt when they saw the endless rows of sharp and long teeth from the Nïdhwal who has tried to jump on Saphira last year. That was an experience they certainly didn't want to experience ever again.

They also needed to know if dragons would be able to make the journey on their own in the future or if all the future trips would have to be done by boat. So far, Saphira hadn't found any piece of land to land but the ice seemed to be thick enough for a dragon. However, this wasn't suited for young dragons or unexperienced Riders and it seemed they would have to travel by boat every time, at least, until the dragons grew old enough.

Eragon was in the midst of his mental training against Valdr. The old dragon's attacks were unlike anything Eragon had ever faced. Instead of magical pressure, the dragon would assault his mind with ideas, pictures, thoughts to completely disorient his mind. Eragon had to keep his mind impermeable to protect himself from the mysterious dragon to remain in control. Suddenly, he felt Saphira's surprise and curiosity through their link. That moment of distraction was enough to let his guard down and to let the old dragon break through his barriers and to take control of his mind.

"Eragon!" screamed Saphira in his mind

"What, can you see something Saphira?" came his fast reply, ignoring the fact that he wasn't in control of his own body.

"Yes!"

Emotions started to build inside his chest. At that moment, Eragon felt more alive than he had been during the past months and he could feel Valdr's curiosity. The old dragon was listening to their conversation but was now back behind Eragon's barriers.

"I can see some land! There's a wall in the distance!" she added, her excitement evident through their link.

Chapter Text

Immediately after hearing this, Eragon jumped from his bed and made his way towards the upper deck. The commotion had attracted the attention of the other elves who were quick to leave their own cabin and see the origin of this fuss. The Eldunaris were prompt to invade his and Saphira's mind to see from their eyes, not that they really minded this invasion of their privacy at the moment.

With his enhanced speed, he was able to be there in a record time and quickly focused on Saphira's vision.

Soon, they all stopped dead in tracks, for nothing could have prepared them for what they saw. A huge wall. No, huge wasn't the word. They saw a gigantic wall. The tallest wall they had even seen -and with that, Eragon counted the Eldunaris who were as surprised as they were. Eragon hadn't needed to focus on Saphira's mind given how tall it was.

The wall seemed to be made of ice and surely was human made for its shape seemed very regular. This strange wall wasn't as tall as the Beor's mountains but Eragon doubted he would find something that high soon very soon. However, the biggest surprise came when Eragon extended his mind in the direction of the wall for the wall was magic! The magic he felt wasn't here to protect the wall or to keep it from melting. No, Eragon was able to feel the wall itself. At that moment, if Eragon had had to take a guess, he would have said that the word for ice in Ancient Language, svell, would be apt to describe the structure, just like brisingr could be used to describe his own sword. But the magic required to build something like this was mind-boggling!

Saphira was also very curious about this infrastructure. She was making slow circles above the ship but her face was turned in the direction of the wall. She wanted to fly and land on the solid earth, feel solid ground under her gigantic legs but she knew they had to be cautious, even more with the strange readings they had from the Wall. She had always been attracted to gigantic spaces and structures, like the Beor Mountains, the forest of Du Weldenvaden, Tronjheim and the Hadarac desert being a few examples. Eragon suspected this was something common to dragons, given their nature to always grow and being the apex predator.

"Why would they build something so big? And who could build it? Humans would never be able to cross something twice as small and even dwarfs would struggle to build something that gigantic, let alone maintain it in this cold weather. Ilirea's walls must be three times smaller even though Galbatorix spent years reinforcing them. What's going on in this world?" thought Saphira, sharing her thoughts to Eragon and some Eldunaris including Umaroth and Glaedr who had joined them.

"This is something for sure but remember to remain cautious Saphira Bjartskular. Strange and esoteric structures have been spotted from time to time in Alagaësia, as you must have learnt during your training with Oromis-elda" answered Umaroth. "To answer your question, I believe magic been involved during the creation of that wall. Your rider has felt parts of it. From now on, I would advise the utmost care. We don't know if magicians maintain it and their strength. Now isn't the time to make hasty assumptions. Were you seen while you flew?"

"I don't think so. The wall is still far and I wasn't flying very high" answered Saphira while carefully landing of the wooden deck of the ship.

"Good. Eragon, you should start by hiding the boat. We will provide you the energy required, don't worry about it." continued Umaroth. "We will stay hidden until the night has fallen. The moon shouldn't be a problem and we will have a plan by then."

Eragon agreed and started muttering the long spell to make them invisible. Soon, twenty other voices could be heard, to complete the spell and hide the boat and its occupants. The spell was consuming but Eragon was ready for it and started to dig into the Eldunaris' reserves. Soon, the boat had completely faded away, just like Eragon, Saphira and the twenty other elves who had followed him. He was starting to feel the spell tapping into his energy. With the help of the Eldunaris, he would be able to keep the enchantment until the night felt.

It was quite an experience for the several occupants of the boat. They were completely invisible and so was the boat, which still kept going forward. Eragon was able to see the waves crashing against the invisible boat. It was quite a sight, to see these powerful rolls of water hit an invisible wall and to feel the tremors generated. They could see the little pearls of water stopping mid-air and falling down.

After two months, he had adapted and had almost forgotten about this slow and back and forth. But it seemed that this experience had brought his already enhanced sights back to life after a long slumber. Saphira was having a hard time adapting. She was a creature of the air and had relied her whole life on her surroundings. She was now unable to distinguish the boundary between her body and the air or the separation between the air and the ship. While she had already experienced the first case, she had never tried to land on an invisible and moving object. So, she grudgingly accepted to stay on the deck and was spending her time by talking with Glaedr and another dragon. They were sharing hunt memories if Eragon understood correctly the feelings he was receiving from his dragon.

Meanwhile, Eragon and Umaroth were talking about the next course of action. Saphira wouldn't be able to transport them all on her back at the same time. There was also the question of the boat. They didn't want to leave it unsupervised because of the eggs. They hadn't expected to reach a civilised place, let alone be faced with the tallest magical structure they had ever seen. Finally, after a few hours spent discussing and with the occasional input of Saphira, Blödhgarm or Glaedr, they had settled on a plan.

A new form of energy has ignited inside of Eragon. For the first time in weeks, he felt alive. Motivated. The sight of this wall had awoken something inside of him. He wasn't back to his former self, that much was true, but he had a task, a task he could see and that should offer some occupation for his mind.

After they were done, Eragon went close to Saphira. While they couldn't see each other, they were still able to touch and touch each other her. They always felt better when they were close.

He could feel Saphira softly purring at his side. They started talking, sharing their thoughts about the coming days, their plan, their hope. For once, Eragon just felt happiness. For once, no thoughts of Arya came to darken his thoughts. And while they were anxious about the future, about this strange and unknown place they had discovered, they were confident in their abilities.

Soon, the sun had fallen and the moon had risen. It was a half moon, which offered them enough visibility while being able to stay somewhat hidden. The moon reflected on the water and the ice, gave an ethereal feeling to the whole place. There was barely any cloud to hide the stars. Eragon noticed how different The wall, which was now closer was dominated them, a force to be reckoned with. They had pushed their minds to find how long it was, to no avail. It seemed the wall was at least a few leagues long.

Finally, Eragon stopped the spell to maintain the invisibility and suddenly felt the drain of his energy coming to an end. Since the inclusion of the dwarfs and the Urgals in the Pact of the Riders, this was without a doubt the most consuming spell he had performed. The boat surged to life, along with the different occupants who stopped their own spell at the same time. In a whisper, the Talita had appeared out of nowhere, like a ghostly apparition.

Eragon, Blödhgarm and three other elves were currently mounting Saphira. They had just finished putting Saphira's and their own armours on. They didn't know anything about the state of warfare here and didn't want to be surprised. So far, they hadn't seen any heavy war machines or siege machines on the wall and they didn't plan on fighting tonight but as Umaroth had wisely pointed out, "better be safe than sorry". That's why the Eldunaris and the eggs had been split between those leaving for the wall on Saphira's back and those staying on board. This way, if anything went wrong, the other group would have enough resources to retreat and to protect the eggs.

Eragon made sure that everything was in order and that they had taken everything they needed. His bow was on his back and his sword, Brisingr, hang at his side. His mental walls were in place. The saddlebags containing some food were firmly in place, attached on Saphira. However, the Eldunaris and the eggs were still in the dimensional pocked and wouldn't be revealed for the time being. They were taken in case something happened to the boat in their absence.

And suddenly, they were off. Saphira had taken her flight and was now a few meters above the ship. Soon, the elves and Eragon started muttering in Ancient Language to be hidden. Even with the night, they would take no risks and the energy required to maintain their invisibility was minimal compared to what they did during the day. They would stay hidden like this and fly high above the wall. They needed to have a general overview of their surroundings. They didn't plan on staying invisible for a long time.

Quickly, Saphira started to rise high in the sky. The cold was biting their skins and Eragon was able to get a first glimpse of the surroundings. Snow, snow everywhere. The whole place seemed to be covered by snow. This world seemed to be made of cold, snow and ice and trapped in an eternal slumber.

But Eragon was familiar with such places. After all, he was the only human who had dared to go hunting in The Spine, to collect food for his family. The forest he was now seeing felt dark, eerie, full of mysteries and shared some similarities with The Spine but was the complete opposite of Du Weldenvaden. The forest didn't seem to extend to the other side of the Wall though. As far as they could see, the other side seemed deserted. A wide and lonely plain, covered by snow. There was no castle, no cities, no farms. Just this wall which seemed to go on forever, trees and of course snow. The world seemed asleep.

Eragon started to question the biting cold. If he had counted correctly, it should be summer at the moment. And while he had already seen snow in summer, it was never near the sea. The only times, it had been high in the mountains, in the Beor or The Spine. And yet, the grounds seemed to be covered by a very thick layer of snow. Eragon was worried this land might be completely unsuitable for dragons. Saphira had already complained about the cold about how difficult it was to keep her scales shiny and well-polished. But would she and the other dragons be able to find enough wildlife to eat?

Moreover, no matter how hard they scanned the surroundings, the only humans they were able to find were the ones close to the wall. Even the Eldunaris, who had spent decades scanning Alagaësia , couldn't find more in a wide radius. Following their plan, and estimating that the situation was safe, they stopped the spell keeping them invisible and Gaerdin started waving a wide white cloth. Saphira was flying high and they were waiting to be seen.

They had pondered on the best action to take after deeming the situation safe. Eragon had wanted to fly in directly and to speak with the locals. However, Umaroth and the others dissuaded him from doing it. Indeed, it seemed very unlikely that these people had ever seen a dragon and the old dragons had more experience dealing with frightened populations. The best way to scare them and to frighten them was to come in uninvited and armed. If they wanted to settle in, they would have to earn the trust of the locals. Moreover, the men of the wall would be more open to discuss if Eragon and his friends were invited and not intruders. They wanted to give them a slight position of power by being invited and not barging in.

Eragon had listened and had to agree to the elders' words, which is why they had settled on this white cloth and visible approach.

"I hope everything goes well Saphira. How do you think they will react to us? "asked Eragon;

"I don't know, you always worry too much little one. You've heard Umaroth and the others, we simply have to wait for them to welcome us" answered Saphira.

"When will they open? And what happens if they react negatively and ask us to leave their lands? What if …"

"Stop Eragon, you're babbling!" interrupted Saphira, "I swear you're more worried than before meeting Oromis and that was something else! Now, you stopped the spell only minutes ago and the night is quite dark, even with the moon. I guess they'll need a few more minutes to spot us. And should they decide to attack us, then I guess I'll have a quick snack, it's been a while since I ate some fresh and tasty meat" added Saphira drily.

Eragon pondered her words and felt his worries disappear under her calming presence.

"Thank you Saphira"

"You're welcome little one"

And they were back to a comforting silence, where the only sound was made by Saphira's powerful wings and the slow back and forth of the cloth. Snow had started to fall in large flakes but the winds were calm.

But suddenly, a loud horn blast broke the silence. The elves and Eragon winced in pain from the loud noise. And very quickly, they also started to hear the commotion their apparition had apparently created. It came from the wall. Men shouting and running mostly but they couldn't hear what was being said. Eragon felt Saphira's pride and shook his head amused. He knew that she wanted nothing more than to spit some fire and to show off more. But she knew the plan and kept herself from making them scatter in fear.

Slowly, Saphira started her slow descent. They didn't want to offer them a reason to be mistrusted. So far, it seemed that this wall held a defensive position and was supposed to protect people from what inhabited the forest, but what? And yet, the forest looked mostly inhabited. Perhaps the danger lurked further but where? There was nothing but mountains, forests and plains in the very far distance. They would have to discover this later.

Finally, Saphira reached the wall and softly landed on the frozen structure. It was even wider than what they had previously imagined. Two people could walk side by side and still have some room left.

People were nervous, looking left and right but no one wanted to approach Saphira. They started muttering among themselves. Eragon caught a few words but didn't know what to make of them "Targaryen", "Daenerys" or "White walkers" being a few of them;

Eragon was also very nervous, but he knew that if he didn't start, people would worry. He knew they were waving a white cloth but that didn't hide their armor and weapons.

"My name is Eragon, I'm a Rider from Alagaësia. This is my dragon Saphira and four companions. Eka ai fricai un Shur'tugal." He then added. "We travelled a long way before getting here."

An awkward silence followed his declaration and Eragon was started to grow more and more worried with each passing second.

Suddenly, they heard a loud voice booming from behind them.

"Who's the fucker who blew that damned horn in the middle of the night. And what are those stories of a dragon. I swear, if you rose me up for nothing, there will be ... "

But Eragon and the others would never learn the consequences for the poor soul who had dared to blow the horn for the man -who seemed to be in charge- had finally caught sight of Saphira and had stopped dead in track. "I'll be damned" they heard him muttering.

Eragon repeated his previous greetings, now that he had the confirmation that these people spoke the same language though he still didn't know about the Ancient Language.

Finally, the leader got his spirits back.

"My name is Cotter Pyke, commander of the Eastwatch garrison. Can't say I've heard of Alagesi or whatever it is. Welcome to the Wall"

Chapter Text

The man standing in from of them reminded Eragon of Term's sailors. He wore a light armor and had a sword at his side. He had the face of someone who had spent more time on sea than on land. His skin was wrinkled and tanned from the sea.

After having surrendered their weapons and insured them Saphira was safe and tame -which earned him a mental slap and a promise of dire consequences later- they had been allowed to climb off the dragon. This had earned more curious glances when the men of the Night's Watch discovered the quality of the steel and their unique bows. This decision had bothered them but it wasn't completely unexpected. However, with Saphira so close and with their magical powers, they were less worried than the usual newcomers.

Many were suspicious and they had to explain the reason of their presence here. Eragon explained that they had travelled a long way here and saw the Wall from their boat. Since it was the first piece of land they had seen in weeks, they decided to explore it.

Commander Pyke seemed to be pondering his options. Finally, after a moment, he decided to allow them entrance to the Wall. Excited but also worried whispers broke off around them.

They were led through the top of wall and reached an old wooden and metallic structure. They realised afterwards that it was in fact an ingenious lifting system to reach the bottom of the wall. Saphira had been able to join them and was now laying in the courtyard of the castle and was listening to their conversation through their link. The six of them were taking everything at once, trying to remember as much as possible. So far, nothing looked completely unusual for them. Most of the facilities they saw could also be found in Alagaësia's castles. A forge, stables or the armoury had already been found.

Eragon, Saphira, Blödhgarm and the others were keeping their mind open to communicate discretely and to find magicians that might have escaped their attention and scrying. At the moment, nothing looked off and the only magic they seemed to find was the one emitted by the wall.

Quickly, they were ushered inside a room which must have been the dining hall of the castle. Tables and benches were aligned and a massive hearth stood in the back. After a quick command of Commander Pyke, a fire started to warm the room. The men, Eragon noticed, preferred to keep their black cloaks on.

They had been offered some beer -which tasted awful in Eragon's opinion- and some warm soup which was just as tasteless. Once they were done with this meal, Eragon, which had been designated as their representative, started a small summary of his presence. Saphira's arrival had attracted the attention of many and by the time Eragon started talking, the number of men in the room had doubled, now coming close to fifty men, all wearing black coats. They had yet to see women or children here.

Eragon had spent the majority of the afternoon, with Umaroth and those willing to join in the discussion, to establish the points to hide and those to reveal in their story. There hadn't been many disagreements but they wanted to make sure every aspect of their story was covered.

They had decided to keep it simple. Eragon started by giving a light background of his life, spent in Carvahal with Roran, Garrow and Marian until the discovery of Saphira's egg and her eclosion.

One of the brothers in the back suddenly asked "So you're not a Targaryen?"

Eragon was nervous. Was Targaryen something related to his elven look? Or his bond with Saphira? But his face must have displayed his interrogation because someone else added "You're not related to Daenerys Targaryen?". Puzzled, Eragon answered by the negative but he felt they would have loads of question to ask, for his own curiosity of the elves and Eldunaris'.

He continued his story by explaining the role of Riders in Alagaësia, Galbatorix's push and the training he started after the death of his uncle. He didn't mention the Ra'zacs and instead told them that his uncle had been killed by soldiers sent by the King, which wasn't that far from the truth.

When faced with Saphira's intelligence, Eragon was met by incredulous eyes.

"You mean that you can communicate with her in your mind?" asked Pyke.

"Yes" came Eragon's quick reply. They had realised mental powers might be unknown but too much of their story relied on this. Moreover, Saphira certainly didn't want to be compared to a mere pet. They would simply try to downplay this ability and make them believe Saphira was the power behind this, which suited her fine.

"Have you ever heard of subtility little boy," asked Saphira amused. "I think you broke them".

A long silence followed, interrupted by Saphira's loud laughter which startled many in the room.

"Don't worry" ushered quickly Eragon. "She's just laughing and criticising my lack of tact. She might be right here though..." he added after some reflexion.

Apparently, telling a group of nervous men that he was being scolded and mocked by his dragon for his lack of tact wasn't the right thing to say given their disbelieving looks.

Pyke once again was the once who got his guts back the fastest. After a few moments, he asked "Is your dragon only able to talk with you or can she speak to other people?"

At this, Eragon took a moment to ponder his words before answering the leader of Eastwatch;

"Saphira mostly communicates with me. We've been bonded since she hatched and we share a deep connection together. However, she can communicate with anyone but it's considered rude to barge into someone's mind without asking first. She would like to communicate a few words if you would be willing."

Eragon felt Saphira's annoyance and hid a smile. He knew he would have to make it up to her quickly before getting into trouble. Probably a long and nice scratch, he knew how much she loved it.

"Will it hurt?" asked one of the brothers.

"Absolutely not but it may surprise you at the beginning."

They heard a few mutterings but the brothers were quick to agree. The prospect to talk to a dragon was too good to miss he guessed. Eragon felt Saphira stretch her mind to include all the occupants in the room before addressing them with her deep voice

"Greetings. As you may have guessed, I am Saphira and I'm Eragon's dragon. Thank you for your hospitality and the kindness you've shown so far. I must say that so far, your country is as pretty as it is cold. I would like to reassure you, I won't cause any harm as long as there's no fool play on us." and with that last warning, she quickly left their mind before their confused thoughts could reach her.

Silence followed before all of the men started shouting and talking, looking at Saphira, Eragon and their hands in disbelief. Eragon saw and felt the smiles on the faces of his friends and Saphira's satisfaction. She had enjoyed causing this mess and was waiting for Eragon to clean it. The young Rider hated being the centre of the attention as much as Saphira loved it.

Even Cotter Pyke looked lost and they could hear his whisperings "May the Drowned God protect us"

After a few moments, they decided to stop their wild chatter and Eragon loudly cleared his throat. Only the commander, who was the closest to them, seemed to have heard. He understood their predicament and quickly yelled" Shut up now morons, we have more to listen. The ones I spot talking will clean the latrines for the coming month." Silence met him and Eragon had to stiffen a laugh.

He continued and said to Eragon and the four elves" I now understand what you meant by her being not being a danger if you weren't threatened. Let us continue with your story and then ask questions as your story certainly rises a few of them. I fear the night will be long for everyone here but that's what happens when legends of the past rise to fuck with us."

Eragon chuckled and continued his story, feeling Saphira's vanity skyrocketing under the compliments from Pyke. His training of magic, their crossing of Alagaësia to reach the Vardens, receiving an anonymous tip related to Arya -he didn't want to involve the power of the Eldunaris-, the death of Brom and his rescue by Murthag -during an ambush by soldiers once more- , Arya's delivery and their run to the Vardens were the next parts he explained and described. The eyes of the men in front of him were growing wider and wider but he couldn't stop every time, they didn't have the time nor the energy.

Eragon took a small break to have a drink and rest his mind. While he knew their story was quite complex and long enough to write four books, maybe more, they had decided to cut it short, to not overwhelm their interlocutors.

He then resumed his story, explaining his stay at the Vardens and the dwarfs, which earned him another round of raised eyebrows and probably indicated that they didn't exist here, then the battle of Farthen Dur against the Urgals and given their reactions, it seemed they were also absent in this place. He didn't mention want to mention the scar Durza left him. It would be too difficult to explain how he lost it.

He then explained how they went training in The Weldenvaden, under the tutelage of an old dragon, coming back to the Vardens and fighting Galbatorix until recently.

He knew their story had some flaws but he didn't the time, nor the desire to share everything too. Many of them were sill absorbing everything he had said and Eragon knew it would probably have to repeat it more than once in the coming weeks. But for today, he was done and it seemed it had gone rather well. He would still have to answer questions and ask their own. What was a Targaryen for instance! But it seemed that the hardest had probably been done. He felt Umaroth and Glaedr's approval which comforted him. Saphira was happy and proud of him and for a short moment he felt overwhelmed by their trust. For the first time, Eragon truly felt like Eragon, Dragon Riders and leader of the new-born Cast.

And suddenly, the questions started being fired. The first one surprised them and was asked by a small bold man in the first rows and wasn't addressed to Eragon but at his companions. "Would it be possible for you to show the difference between an elf and a human,"

Smiling, Blödhgarm and the others removed their hoods simultaneously to reveal pointed ears and a wolfish look for Blödhgarm. This seemed to pause all of the humans in the room as they considered the appearance of the strangers. Finally, another one asked about their magic and what he meant by that.

Eragon hid a smile. He knew this question would come and was prepared for it. He focused on the several candles in the room and spoke clearly "Brisingr". All of a sudden, the candles lit up violently and just as quickly, they turned back to their normal state. Ignoring their scared looks, he continued "Brisingr comes from an old language that was spoken before. In this language, there exists a name for everything in the world there. This language designates the true nature of things. It doesn't attach itself to superficial things. And so, fire is called brisingr. Brisingr isn't another name to designate fire. It is the fire and if you're strong enough, you can control the fire just by saying Brisingr as I've just done".

After his explanation, he felt himself lost in his memories. The long days training on his horse while they crossed the Hadarac. A long ghostly smile reached his face. Eragon felt Saphira's love and admiration. At that moment, he felt closer to his father, the one who had taught him so much. Eragon wanted to honour Brom and had decided to do so by copying his teaching methods.

"So, you can control everything with this language?" asked Pyke

"Well, you need to know the words required. Moreover, magic takes energy. It takes the amount you would need to perform the action without magic. Therefore, I can't destroy mountains or resurrect people for instance" answered Eragon.

Pyke nodded and started to ponder Eragon's answer. Another brother then asked "Were you saying something in that language when you arrived? No one could understand what you were saying"

The newcomers were surprised someone had remembered this and thought to ask it. This time, it was Blödhgarm who answered "Yes, it was. When you talk in Ancient Language, you cannot lie. Eragon was telling you he was a Rider and a friend."

This time, they didn't have to wait long before they heard "bullshit" or "liars". But they waited until everyone had cooled off and simply opened the door. Eragon knew a couple of birds were flying above the wall and was planning to once more imitate his mentor and father. Loudly, he clearly said "Fethblaka, eka weonhnata, néiat haina ono. Blaka eom iet lam". Within seconds, three birds landed on Eragon's stretched arm and stood there for a few moments before they went back.

Facing his audience, he simply said "I promised them no harm would come to them. They may not have completely understood but they got the general meaning. And before you ask, I won't be performing every trick I know.". It seemed the brothers were still pondering what they had seen. The whole audience was silent. Finally, the silence was broken by one curious brother

"And everyone can learn this?" he asked, excitement clearly present in his voice at the prospect of doing magic.

This time, it was one of the elves who answered him

"Magic is a gift. The great majority of human in Alagaësia aren't able to do magic. Only a few have this ability and these who can are weak. If we were to teach you, perhaps one of you would be able to learn a few tricks but that would take time and energy. But speaking the Ancient Language isn't restricted. In our home. This is why sometimes people don't sign a paper and prefer to swear in Ancient Language"

"But what if they don't know the Language, people could abuse it and make them promise anything, right?"

"This is indeed true, which is why the terms of the contract are often discussed beforehand, so that both parties can find a trusting grammarian who will help them to understand the vow".

More questions followed and they were quick to answer them. Finally, after a while, Eragon stated "I'm getting tired and we also have some questions to ask, if you don't mind?"

The commander knew when someone was asking a question and when someone wasn't. He had seen the change just at the moment: his back straightening, his face closing and an expression which wouldn't accept no for an answer. These five held power unheard off and it wouldn't be great to anger them. He also hadn't forgotten the dragon resting peacefully in their courtyard. Which is why he complied "Of course, we would gladly answer your questions and give you an overview of the world here."

Some of the men had clearly wanted to ask more questions but were quick to stop their mutterings.

Soon, the commander started to explain the new world they had discovered. They were all listening with rapt attention: Eragon, Saphira, the elves and the Eldunaris. Pyke started to explain the rough lines of the country, called Westeros: seven Kingdoms, one King, the Stark, Tyrell, Baratheon, Lannister, Arryn, Tully and Martell. Then he focused on the Wall, spanning over one hundred leagues, making them bulge their eyes given the significant amount of magic found in one place. He roughly explained how people joined, by choice or to escape some punishment and their vows they took. With the vows, they discovered the purpose of the wall: protecting the realm of the men.

"Against what?" interrupted Eragon. "I mean, we've flown a bit and haven't found nor seen anything threatening in a large area. "

At this, all the men grew uneasy and started shooting worried glance left and right.

"For thousands of years, the Wall has protected the realm against raids of wildlings living on the other side, in tribes. However, it seems another enemy is emerging. Some call it the Army of the Dead. Our Lord Commander, Jon Snow, firmly believes in this and for the first time in eight thousand years has allowed wildlings to cross the Wall. We've had a long summer, eight years, the longest in human memory. We'll probably face a very harsh winter now, probably the longest in living memory too."

"What is this army of the dead you speak of? questioned Eragon. He was also troubled with this concept of years long summers but this army seemed more urging.

This time, it was someone else who answered them and his answer seemed to freeze the whole room. Even Saphira had stopped moving and had her eyes locked on the room. Undead enemies, blue eyes, resistant to almost anything except fire and something called Valyrian steel. These monsters looked like Galbatorix's creations, who couldn't feel any pain. However, their biggest shock came when they heard about the number: it was between 250 000 and 1 000 000, an army greater than anyone had faced before.

The whole room was silent and so was their mind. It seemed no one, Westerosi or Alagaësian alike, knew how to react to this, given the frightened looks Eragon could read on the brother's faces. He knew he would have to discuss this more but he has other questions too.

"Someone mentioned Targaryen before. Could someone explain what it is?" asked Eragon.

"Targaryen is another family from Westeros and their story shaped the story of our kingdom. Their moto is Fire and Blood because they had dragons answered the boy who had interrupted Eragon before.

At his words, the attention of the dragons and Saphira perked up and his dragon directly asked to the boy "Dragons you say"

Surprised, the boy flinched but nodded. Immediately, Saphira's excitation skyrocketed and she said "Have you heard Eragon! Dragons, here!"

"Yes Saphira, but we should be careful, let's hear what he has to stay"

After a quick nod from Eragon, the man continued "Aegon Targaryen arrived 300 years ago in Westeros with his two sisters and three dragons." When they thought they couldn't be more surprised, they were proven wrong. The Eldunaris were speechless. A whole family of riders?

"Unprepared, the whole country quickly bent the knee and so they ruled Westeros. However, for some reason, the power of their dragons decreased while the family grew into madness. About 20 years ago, a rebellion emerged and crushed the Targaryen dynasty. That's how Robert Baratheon took the throne and now his sons."

They let the words sink in before Gaerdin asked "And what about their dragons?"

"For a hundred years, everyone thought the dragons had disappeared with the rising of the Targaryen's madness. However, it seems that Daenerys Targaryen, the sole survivor of her family, has hatched three dragons in Essos, a continent close to Westeros" he added.

This time, they were completely stunned. Who was this girl who had three dragons? How could three dragons hatch at the same time for the same person? Who was she and what was this mad world? Who were these Targaryen? And how was a single family able to hatch multiple eggs?

More questions came and the more answers they got, the more puzzled they were. He knew they would discuss all of this for days and try to figure out this place. Understand the Doom of Valyria, the Targaryens and the Army of the Dead looked like a top priority.

Finally, the questions came to an end. They had spoken the whole night! Outside, the sun had started to rise but they couldn't feel it. They could only feel the cold outside. The commander rose and thanked them for their story and for sharing it while Eragon thanked them for their warm welcome. After offering them to sleep here, which they accepted, the commander guided them to three rooms. The rooms were fairly simple, a bed and a chest, but they didn't mind.

Before sleeping, they briefly contacted their friends who had stayed on the boat and were quick to assure them everything was alright. They didn't have the energy to repeat everything they had learnt during the night.

The dragons were adamant and didn't want to comment their recent discoveries while they were all tired. And so, they all went to sleep in their respective rooms. Eragon was alone and was able to find some privacy with Saphira. He felt her excitement and joy of possibly finding dragons here. The beds weren't very comfortable but after having spent two months at sea, it was a very welcome change.

They fell asleep fairly quickly. Before he fell into his dreams, he heard one last thought. One full of mystery and interrogation. A question which came from the oldest dragon of the group:

"Du fyrn svell?"

Chapter Text

Eragon and the elves woke up only a few hours later, with the sun still high in the sky. They hadn't needed much less rest thanks to their condition. The young rider quickly prepared himself and freshened his face. However, he didn't want to get out directly. Before resting, they had decided the comment the recent events in their rooms, under the pretence that they were sleeping. Afterall, they had only slept four hours!

When Eragon extended his mind, he felt that two of the elves were already ready while the two others were almost done. He took the occasion the make sure Saphira was alright and didn't need anything. She wasn't used to sleep in such cold but that only a minor issue.

Quickly, everyone was ready and the dragons started invading their mind. Eragon quickly greeted Glaedr and Umaroth of whom he had become close to.

Umaroth, who still acted as the voice for all the dragons started to tell "We've had some time to think about everything that has been said. Moreover, we took the liberty to inform the elves on the boat of the current situation. They are roughly on point and are currently on their way to meet us now that the place is deemed safe. Now, we need to discuss what we're going to do here, in Alagaësia. There is a war in building but you also have a duty to perform regarding dragons Eragon.".

Eragon was shocked that they had considered leaving the place without helping the people here. People expected this kind of reaction from elves. Orik had warned him at the start of their friendship. But he had never expected to see the day where a dragon would consider leaving a fight. But their future was in danger and their survival instinct were high.

However, he didn't have the time to explain his thoughts as suddenly, one of the oldest dragons whispered a few words "Du Fyrn svell is back.". He remembered the few words he had heard before sleeping and this only increased his curiosity.

Eragon felt the confusion this statement had declared. The dragon who had spoken was a wild one, who had been held captive under Galbatorix's reign. Many more dragons, like Saphira, Glaedr or Umaroth shared his confusion, like the other elves. However, Eragon was able to feel the fear and worry from a few dragons. With some surprise, Eragon discovered all of them were wild dragons.

The dragon who had spoken, called Vysia, started talking, in a low and deep voice "As you know dragons have a common memory, something that cannot be completely explained but which makes us part of the world's magic and history. This statement is especially true for wild dragons. Our hatchlings rely solely on us and couldn't depend on Riders or scrolls elves-with-pointed-ears use. We teach and share our story to all the members of our pack. The same is done with Dragons riders, I've seen it. But our history runs deeper, is directly connected to the nature. And so, the memory of the wild dragons is stronger, directly connected to the history of magic and nature."

He felt the confusion and anger of some dragons, rising, unlike anything Eragon had ever felt. Dogs started to bark and the horses seemed frightened outside.

"You dare to hide stories and memories while we were threatened by the Mad King! You dare to endanger us and to hide information that could have saved us!" started Glaedr. Many other dragons were sharing this feeling. Eragon could only watch and listen as the usually calm and wise dragons expressed their anger and indignation in a forceful way.

"Quiet child"

The whole room seemed to freeze and everyone stopped dead in tracks.

At this moment, Eragon felt the true distinction between wild dragons and dragons chosen to be with a Rider. He felt their anger, their indignation and their pride, rolling in powerful waves, crashing onto their minds. The usually calm Glaedr was corrected like a bratty child by Vysia. Words would probably be exchanged later, in a more private setting. Eragon didn't really know how dragons dealt with personal issues.

He had seen a few examples with Saphira but this was the first time he was facing a true argument between factions of dragons. But it looked like Glaedr understood the threat and stopped to let Vysia share his information.

After some help from Saphira, they managed to calm the dragons. The tension in the room was still high but the dragons had calmed a bit. Some understood the reasons but were waiting for an explanation.

"This knowledge that we share is a dangerous one. Even Galbatorix never learnt our whole story and I know he broke several of my fellows in his quest to discover this. This knowledge is dangerous for it allows the mind to imagine and give birth to legends and horrors from the past. With the right ideas, Galbatorix could have done much more damages with his knowledge of the Word. For a hundred years, we have feared he would completely break us. So, don't presume that we acted for selfish reasons. You are the one who hid for a hundred years but you won't hear us complaining. Don't talk about things you don't know Glaedr, son of Nithring."

Finally, Vysia resumed his story. He spoke slowly, as if to make sure he used the right words in a foreign language. "As I was saying, us, wild dragons are the holders of history which has been long lost to time for all the other races. The majority of this history is related to Alagaësia but a small minority goes beyond this. Part of our story comes from further. Wild dragons are the holders of stories which come from the land habited by the elves before, known today as Alalëa. More importantly, we have kept the story which pushed them to leave Alalëa. I'll share it with you in the light of the recent events but you should know that few, if any, living beings know this story."

The curiosity of the elves and Eragon perked up. He had never been able to discover the reasons which pushed the elves to leave the land they inhabited before Alagaësia and it seemed his friends were as clueless as he was.

"Now, Elves are a proud race and have been called the Fair Fold. They are immensely proud and this is not something new. They thought, and in some measure still think, that nothing could stop them with their wild magic."

The disdain of the dragon was plain to see. While elves were indeed proud, it was nothing compared to dragons.

"The lands grew more fertile; the fruits were sweet as honey and the trees taller than some hills. They grew complacent not unlike your Cast. And just like your Cast, this brought their end. They thought nothing could stop them. Their skills with magic, metal or leather was unmatched. They always wanted more; they weren't able to stop themselves. Until one day, they made their final mistake. They had wanted to personify nature. They thought they could give life to nature. Rubbish, for nature is life, and nothing could improve or enhance that life. Even humans have understood this. Why do you think families plant trees when they have a child? Elves also use their bodies to grow trees after they die."

He spoke slowly as if the words felt unfamiliar with some scorn in his voice. Images started to flash into their minds as he took some time to find the right words and continue his story. At this point, all the dragons had stopped bickering -if bickering could be applied to creatures like dragons- and were listening with rapt attention.

"But the elves of old thought they could do it. And for a while, they thought they had done it for they had created something they called Children of the Forest. These creatures ran free in Alalëa and for a while, elves truly thought they has mastered life and nature. It cost them dearly. Now, for some reason now lost forever, the Children of the Forest wanted to create a warrior. They ended up creating a weapon. They ended up creating something that would freeze the whole land and push the elves to leave this place. This weapon, I believe, is the Night the human talked about. I discussed with others last night about our suspicion. And so, we believe this land we are currently on is the land of Alalëa, deserted nearly 5 000 years ago by the elves because of their failure and their hubris, for they were the once who gave life to these monsters."

A long silence followed his declaration. The only sounds that broke it were the wind against their windows. The last images floated into their mind, showing a green landscape getting covered by snow; They also saw the remains of a battle. humans, elves and creatures laid in their blood, mixed with scattered swords and armor. The elves looked different. More human like. Their features seemed less graceful. These pictures were mixed with a feeling of despair and shame.

Eragon understood that Vysia, helped by other wild dragons, was sharing the last moments of the elves in Alalëa. It was a humbling and scary experience for him, who had such a high esteem of elves. He heard the surprise and shock from across the corridor where they were seated and meditating.

"The fight against this evil was difficult and tiring. They lost many and their weapons were quite useless. Years later, with the help of humans, they managed to push the foe and flee without completely destroying it. We believe this last humiliation made them leave this place;".

Eragon felt overwhelmed by what he had just learnt. Elves had somehow pushed the nature's limits to create this endless night. It gave a whole new light to their current behaviour. Generations upon generations of elves had tried to make amends with nature, in an unconscious way, by living as close as possible to nature in the most respectful way.

The elves on the other hand, felt lost. They felt betrayed by what they had learnt. While they never knew the reason behind the elves' departures from Alalëa, it now felt like a cursed knowledge. Somehow, the actions of their ancestors were the cause to this conflict. No modern elf had ever faced the consequences of their old mistakes. Afterall, Galbatorix and the twelve Forsworn were human and it was an unspoken idea that no elf would have dared to do what they did.

It was Saphira who broke the silence because for the first time, all the Eldunaris were unable or not willing to communicate what they had just seen.

"The other elves have arrived, the men-in-black are starting to move and preparing to welcome them."

Eragon stopped his musings and extended his mind and indeed, the remaining elves had safely reached the shores and left the boat, bringing with them the last Eldunaris and eggs. Eragon had discussed this point with Commander Pyke yesterday, who had no issues into welcoming them. He estimated he had fifteen minutes before his friends reached the door.

He grabbed a warm and thick coat loaned and put it on. It wasn't very comfortable but it kept him warm enough.

Quickly, he made sure nothing was amiss before leaving his room and joining the men of the Night's Watch for a late lunch. His friends were doing the same and moments after, they were all in the courtyard and Eragon was petting Saphira. The men around were still uneasy but Saphira's calm and soft purring was doing the trick and quickly loosening the tension. No one had asked to pet her yet. Eragon knew from experience that a child would probably be the first one to dare.

Commander Pyke was one of the first to greet them "Hope you slept well. The men on the Wall have spotted your boat and your friends should be here soon."

Eragon thanked him and joined him near the gates which were slowly opening to grant access to the dozen elves incoming. The gates were many inches thick and appeared to be made of steel;

Moments later, they were complete once again and after greeting their friends, they went together to the dining room to discuss and have a quick meal and prepare the future.

Chapter Text

The next three days passed in a blur. They would discuss with the Eldunaris or with Pyke about the situation in Westeros and in exchange, he would ask them questions about Alagaësia. They learnt a lot about the troubled years, the war of the Five Kings and the currently divided Kingdom

Two events had disrupted these busy days. On the first day, just after eating with his companions, Eragon had asked to get his sword and his bow back. He didn't feel comfortable without them and the feeling was shared by the others who had also surrendered their weapons.

The master of arms of Eastwatch had given them back but he had asked questions about the craftmanship of these weapons. While they could and did answer most of his questions, they didn't offer him a lot help. The few answers they gave him only left him more puzzled. Eragon felt bad for the man, remembering his own incomprehension when he had heard "we sang it" all those years ago. The sapphires on Brisingr had drawn the attention of many. But the events which would follow would dissuade all of them to try anything to steal it, if Saphira's presence hadn't already been enough of a deterrent.

Indeed, the master of arms hadn't seemed to be discouraged after his questions and asked them a little presentation of their skills.

He quickly protected his sword and made a few reels with his arms, Needless to say, the presentation turned into a show match, with Eragon swording against several brothers. They ended the presentation with Eragon against Wyndravein. Happy to spend some of their energy after their long trip, they gave everything and fought for almost twenty minutes. During that time, their swords clashed in a deadly ballet, where no one got any advantage. Sparks flew every time their swords crossed in a loud gong until Eragon found an opening on Wyndravein's left side and ended the match.

A long silence followed, until all the brothers started screaming and clapping after this demonstration; But while many were happy and impressed, Eragon also saw some worried and scrutinising faces. No one said anything but the match was over, as abruptly as It started. Eragon offered his hand to raise his friend on the ground who graciously accepted it.

Following this, they had been roped into teaching the members to improve their sword skills. From that moment, a few elves could always be found in the courtyard, teaching those who wanted, under the eyes of Saphira who remained lying for the majority of their time. He knew it wasn't a pleasant task, given the skill of the brothers, but it was the least they could do. And they knew their stay here would be short.

The second event which created lots of thinking were Eragon's calls to Alagaësia. The discussions with the Eldunaris had raised a lot of questions and they needed answers. After long discussions and a final push from Saphira, Eragon had dared to go in front of the bowl and to fill it with water.

Moments later, Arya's face greeted him.

"Eragon!" whispered Arya, clearly surprised to see him. Eragon hadn't dared to call her since he had left two months ago.

She hadn't changed in the past months. She had a small smile which made Eragon's stomach twist. The pain and sadness created by her absence, which had slowly dulled with time, were back. A few seconds had passed with neither making any progress.

"Eragon, say something" came Saphira's voice, startling him.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin, Arya Dröttning" he answered in a daze, the words coming out of his mount automatically.

"Atra du evarinya ono varda Eragon." she replied, a smile on her face. "Is everything alright? Have you found a place for the dragons?" she looked very curious and happy to see him, something which brought a smile on his face. This was quite unusual of Arya to be forward but he didn't mind it one bit.

"We have recently come across some land indeed. And we are in need of some advice"

"Really? I would be glad to advise you but can't the Eldunaris help you with your concerns? Well, what's the matter?"

At her words, Eragon started to blush. He seemed at a loss. Slowly, he answered his friend "The Eldunaris can't help me with my concern. However, I was wondering if you would allow me to speak with Rhunön-elda. She doesn't have a mirror in her house. I'm sorry to call like this but we don't have a lot of time"

Arya looked as flustered as Eragon. "Of course, Eragon, I'll do this. I'll try to set up meeting tonight, would that be okay?"

"Yes, thank you Arya. I'm sorry, I can't stay much longer, there's so much to deal with! We could perhaps have another chat when everything will have settled down a bit" he added excitedly.

"That would be lovely yes Eragon" said Arya's as her smile slowly came back.

A few moments later, the discussion was over.

When the mirror turned back to normal, Eragon leaned against the wall. This had been difficult, more difficult than what he had thought. He took deep breaths and tried to ease his mind. As always, Saphira's comforting presence was here to help him. She didn't say anything, she just sent him waves of comfort. Speaking to Arya had opened fresh wounds but had also helped him to heal others.

The day passed quickly and quickly, he was back in his room, waiting for Rhunön's call.

After waiting for a few minutes, he heard the deep and rough voice coming from the mirror.

"You asked to see me Eragon Shadeslayer?"

It seems she hadn't bothered with a mirror and had simply filled a bowl with water close to her forge. He recognised the place where Brisingr had been forged not so long ago.

"Yes, Rhunön Elda, thank you for seeing us. We wanted some advice and we believe you are the only one who can help us" said Eragon

"Please hurry then, I've got an armor on the forge waiting. What can I do for you Shadeslayer? "

Eragon took a few deep breaths before "We were wondering if you could tell us about du fyrn svell"

Rhunön's eyes widened and she took a step back as if she had been hit. Hoarsely, she asked him "Where and how have you heard about this?"

"It seems that we have landed in Alalëa and we found a land covered by snow and ice. We managed to find locals who explained the current situation. It seems they are facing something they call the army of the dead. Legends say this foe appeared for the first time roughly 5000 years ago and they are rising again." Explained Eragon

"I don't know what you are talking about Era-" started Rhunön

"I spoke to the dragons Rhunön-Elda"

"Glaedr didn't know anything about this and Saphira will probably know even less about this" argued the old smith.

"The dragons of old Rhunön. The wild dragons found a way to protect their memory in Vroengard ..."

"You can talk about the Eldunaris child. If you think -and rightly so- that I'm the only elf alive to know about du fyrn svell then you should have imagined that I knew about Eldunaris. I'm glad to know they weren't all destroyed by Galbatorix" She replied with a smile. But her eyes weren't smiling. Her eyes seemed lost in a past long forgotten.

Eragon felt the dragons getting agitated at this revelation but there was nothing they could so. She had managed to hide both secrets for so long and was far away to do anything about it. Instead, he merely shrugged at the elf and gave her a half smile.

"So, we were wondering what you could tell us about this period. About the Night King of something else. If this is something we can beat of if we need to leave this place."

"The Night King is unlike anything you've ever faced. As powerful if not more than Galbatorix but also drastically different. The Night King … He's dangerous Eragon. The ones who tried to fight him never came back. He has one aim: to destroy humanity and everything within, starting with elves and humans. He won't stop by the seas Eragon. If what you say is true Eragon, he gained a lot of power and seas won't stop him. Soon the waters will freeze and humanity will be lost, covered in an eternal layer of snow and darkness. I fear that if you don't stop him now, Alagaësia will face this threat in a few years or decades" she answered with a sad smile

"So, we're locked with this new threat aren't we" asked Eragon furiously

He was furious. Once more, he felt forced to face another dangerous foe. When would he finally find some peace? When would he be able to find solace and rest? Not yet it seems. He was angry, angry at the world, angry to be correcting mistakes done thousands of years ago.

"The task might be difficult Eragon, but it's doable. When we left, all these centuries ago, the leader of that time, Brandon Stark, planned to create a wall between them and the Night King. See if you can find it"

"Oh, they did Rhunön-elda, they build the greatest wall ever made" he added with a smirk. "800 feet high and a hundred leagues long"

Rhunön's eyes grew wide as saucers "How did they manage this?"

"I don't know, but let me say this Wall is basically magic made ice. The power behind these walls is absolutely maddening".

Rhunön looked lost in thoughts, the armor laying in her forge long forgotten. She looked more tired that Eragon had ever seen her.

"Is there anything that you could tell us that may help us fight these monsters?"

"Well, steel doesn't work. Regular steel breaks like glass against them. Fire and obsidian are the key. Maybe your sword could work, I'm not completely sure, I would tread with caution there."

"They have something called Valyrian steel which also works"

"I don't know what it is Eragon, I'm sorry" and she truly looked sorry.

"We understand Rhunön and I do not blame you." He told her in Ancient language to convey his feelings.

He wasn't angry at her for her lack of knowledge, that much was true. However, he wasn't sure he could repeat this sentence while thinking that she had been part of the people who had created these monsters. And such was the power of Ancient Language.

"Thank you Eragon. I'll leave now if that's alright, this discussion took more than I expected of me".

"Of course, Rhunön, have a good night".

And with that, Rhunön's worried and tired face faded from the bowl he was using until Eragon was once again able to see his own reflection. This discussion had left him just as exhausted as the one he had been after talking with Arya, although for different reasons. The Eldunaris were silent, pondering what they had just learnt.

Later that day, when Eragon and his companions went to their bedroom for the night, they decided, with the help of the Eldunaris and Saphira, to go further with their mental observations. Pushing, the places they were scrying only seemed to become darker and colder even if they shouldn't feel the cold. Finally, after a last common effort, they reached a disturbance. A darkness, which attracted everything around it and sucked it. A darkness so cold that it seemed no life would ever come back from this point. And as Eragon focused on this darkness, he was able to find thousands of links, splitting everywhere around it, creating a giant web spider with the Night King in the mind. With Rhunön's story in mind, Eragon understood that the black mess they were feelings were the thousand creatures, linked to their master.

It was, in a unique way, the most amazing mental web he had ever seen. The complexity of it was maddening, with hundreds of tendrils and dots and a complexity beyond comprehension.

However, what triggered Eragon was the thread coming from the centre and going to the ground, into the earth. Their assumption that the Night King impacted the weather seemed to be true, on a deeper scale than what they had expected. He felt the outrage and shock from his elven friends, who -now- firmly believed that no one controlled nature.

Their thoughts were still dark and troubled when they slipped into sleep.

Two days later, the small group decided it was time to leave Eastwatch. They had learnt a lot in the past days and felt that it was the right time to move. After hearing Rhunön, they had decided to stay in Westeros and stop the curse taking hold on nature. Eragon had known he couldn't leave and let the people he loved face this in a few years while he had a chance to stop it now.

This had been a difficult decision to take. They had left Alagaësia to raise dragons and build a cast and this would be delayed for a few years at least. The safety of the eggs had to be preserved too. Two had remained in Alagaësia, meant to hatch for riders but the others had been brought here, in Westeros, and were in danger. If the situation was to become too dangerous, a group of elves would go back to Alagaësia to protect them. Otherwise, they would be protected for the coming months and hatched later, when hopefully everything will have settled down.

After talking to Cotter Pyke, they had decided to reach Winterfell. All their leads seem to converge there: The Starks had built the wall, Jon Snow, the lord Commander who had faced the dead had recently fought to regain this castle and it was the stronghold of the North. They also needed to learn as much as possible about Daenerys Targaryen. While the Wall certainly offered them help, their imposed isolation meant that the news they received was probably outdated or incomplete.

Finally, they were ready to leave on the fourth day. Once more they had decided to split into two teams. Four people would fly off to Winterfell while the remaining would use horses to bring all their belongings at Winterfell. They had traded some of their gold to get the horses, saddles and food. The trip would take less than a week for Saphira but almost three for the others. They trusted their magic to keep them warm during this long trip and according to the people here, they shouldn't encounter wildling or bandits. Those were scarce in the harsh North and winter had forced them to retreat. Should they encounter them, they would simply deal with it.

Now, it was time for Eragon to leave Eastwatch and the Wall. Saphira had been saddled and was waiting for them in the courtyard. She had hunted the day before and found some deer south of the Wall. After the stories they had heard, she had preferred to avoid going beyond the Wall.

Mounting Saphira, Eragon turned one last time towards the men of the Night's Watch and their commander, Cotter Pyke. Amplifying his voice through magic, he faced the crowd which had gathered to see them depart.

"We have come from far to discover new places. We have found a harsh place, where snow rules in true king. Coming with a dragon breathing fire, we've found a frozen kingdom. But more importantly, we've found Westeros's shield. We've found the place where people dedicate their life to protect others. We may have found the coldest place but truly, we've found the place where the warmth comes from mankind and ale! And for this, we couldn't have been luckier. My friend and I would like to thank you for your welcome, your acceptance, your help. Thank you and may the New and Old Gods protect you now"

It wasn't perfect but he hadn't really known what to say. None of his friends, dragons or elves, had wanted to help him, telling him that it was his duty, with sometimes a smirk or a teasing tone.

"You've improved little one," said Saphira before adding "I remember the farmer who was afraid to talk to a few dozen soldiers. Who knows, maybe you'll become decent one day"

"Hush you" replied Eragon with a smile

And she was off, spreading her wings under the roar of the people present, in the direction of the South and Winterfell.

Chapter Text

Jon felt exhausted. The past few weeks had been tiring for him, both emotionally and physically.

He had been killed by his brothers, people he trusted, with whom he had fought and drunk. Every stab had been worse than the one before. Being resurrected had been painful and scary.

He remembered the complete darkness surrounding him for what felt like an eternity. A complete and suffocating darkness, which left no room for movement. He learnt later that he had only stayed a day in this state.

Then he was forced to kill those who had betrayed him, by his own hands. Olly's face still haunted him, even weeks later. And last, he had to see his brother Rickon die in his arms, after being separated from him for so many years. But those recent events only seemed to pile after the losses he had suffered in the past: Aemon's death, Ygritte's death, Robb's death, Theon's betrayal, his father's death … His life seemed to be a collection of deaths and betrayals which never seemed to end.

He had recently celebrated his twenty second nameday but his eyes would show an entirely different truth. His eyes showed a man worn out, a man who had fought and bled for the past six years, He had the eyes of someone who had seen too much, who had lived and suffered through war.

He felt tired, both in mind and body and the battle he had just fought certainly didn't help.

The banner of the Stark stood once more above Winterfell, replacing the flayed men put there by the Bolton, but at what cost?

They had lost many to get here, wildlings and people of the North. The battle had started with Rickon's death and Wun-Wun had been one of the last casualties. He couldn't bring himself to consider Ramsay as a victim.

People were already calling it the battle of the bastards, a name he utterly hated.

Winterfell had been taken back a week ago and he had been crowned King in the North the evening after the battle, a political move he had yet to fully absorb. He had risen from a bastard to become a King. He had yearned for this as a child: to be recognised, to be someone else than Ned Stark's bastard. But now, it seemed the Old Gods were laughing at him. Gone were these times. His father, Robb, Catelyn Stark, Rickon, Old Nan, Jeyne, Master Luwin and so many others were gone. Bran was reported missing, lost in the North. And Arya. No one had news from her since that fateful day where his father was killed.

Even the old castle felt different after all these years. Gone was the sense of happiness and freedom who used to linger in the atmosphere. But the castle also bore scars from the past. Damaged and burnt buildings were the constant reminders of the previous occupations. The only anchors from his past were Sansa and Ghost who had thankfully survived the battle mostly unshattered.

While he healed from the battle and absorbed his new position, the castle buzzled with activities. They had burnt all the dead and were healing the living. They also needed to know the exact state of the castle after being occupied by the Ironborn and the Bolton. So much had been lost and they needed to make sure they had enough grain and meat for Winter was here, but at first glance, it seemed to be a disaster. The instability and the wars hadn't offered much time to farm the grounds. With a sad look, Jon looked through the window. His gaze settled on the place the greenhouses used to be. They had been destroyed at some point and not renewed. Another heirloom of the past destroyed and another mean to survive lost. There, in the privacy of his room, he longed for the presence of his father or his brother Robb or even Maester Luwin. They would have known how to deal with this mess, how to deal with the Northern Lords. He felt lost and didn't know how to act. Maester Aemon had once told him to "kill the boy" but he dearly wanted to avoid the previous outcome.

His mood wasn't helped by the presence of Littlefinger or Sansa's manipulations. He was grateful for the help given by the cavalry of the Vale, really. But why had she gone behind everyone's back? She could have trusted him and they may have been able to avoid many deaths. They could have waited or changed their strategy. Instead, they had been surrounded and crushed by the Bolton and only the miracle provided by Sansa had saved them. Still, too many had died.

He pondered his next moves. He knew he had to find obsidian at Dragonstone and convince the rest of the kingdom of the impending threat. But who would take them seriously? He was Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard, who had apparently left the Night's Watch to protect his sister and he needed help against creatures which were considered legends. The odds clearly weren't in his favour, even if he was King in the North.

For now, he simply laid in his bed, enjoying the warmth provided by the furs. He wasn't used to this level of comfort after sleeping for so long in the uncomfortable beds of Castle Black. He didn't want to think about the few nights he had spent with wildling which had been a contrast between extreme pleasure and complete lack of comfort. Some wounds were just more visible than others. He didn't dare touch the scars left on his chest and didn't want to linger on the scars in his mind. Both felt wrong and foreign on him. A remainder that he had been stabbed and killed. A remainder that he had been betrayed. A remainder of what he had lost.

But Jon knew he had to carry on. That's what they would have wanted. He owed it to those who believed in him: Sam, Edd, Sansa, Tormund, Davos, Lyanna and all those who had rallied behind him. It was his duty to protect them. "I am the shield that guards the realms of men" Jon whispered to no one. Silence answered him.

Suddenly, he heard shouts and screams coming from the walls. Curious, Jon left his bed and went to his windows, to see what was the cause of this fuss. For a moment, nothing looked wrong. Until that moment where he saw it.

A dragon. A huge blue dragon coming straight on them.

For a split second, Jon stood frozen, unable to move or to think. The beast was still far but Jon had no doubt it would reach them in minutes if not seconds. They were defenceless against it. The castle was still recovering from the previous battle and its defences were close to non-existent. Jon quickly put some clothes and his armor on, grabbed Longclaw and left his room.

As expected, the screams had alerted everyone and the whole castle was in turmoil. People were running and screaming. On his way out, he stumbled onto Sansa

"Jon, they say it's a dragon, but how…"

"Yes, I've seen it. It's coming straight on us. I need to see and try to stop it."

"But Jon, surely someone else could do it…"

But before she could continue, she was silenced by Jon who took her in his arms, silencing her. After a few seconds, he kissed her forehead. And with that, he was gone.

He ran and quickly reached the walls. He had a few moments to think of the situation. A dragon was coming on them. A fucking dragon. But from the last news they had received, Daenerys had just arrived in Westeros and surely the North didn't interest her as much as King's Landing. He was confused and afraid.

Sir Davos was already there, with Lord Glover and Tormund. Only the latter looked unphased. Tormund almost looked excited by the prospect of facing a dragon. But that feeling wasn't shared by many. More and more people were pointing at the dragon which was getting closer with each passing second. Fear was carved on their face and Jon couldn't blame them.

However, the dragon seemed to become slower, but that wasn't possible! And yet, Jon could see the blue dragon slowly going down and suddenly, a white cloth appeared on the horizon. Jon was unable to see more precisely but someone was waving a banner of peace on top of the dragon who was now almost still. He let go of the breath he had been unconsciously holding. They were safe, for now at least. Or was that a trap?

Finally, after a long moment, the dragon landed on the ground in front of the gates but far enough to be protected from arrows. Several people jumped from its back, still waving the white banner and stood next to the blue dragon, hundreds of feet away from the walls.

oOo

They could hear the screams caused by Saphira's appearance. The screams were always the first they could discern, usually before cries and wailings. He remembered the screams in Dras-Leona, Belatona, Urû'baen and now Winterfell. Only this time, he came as a friend, not an enemy. He just hoped they would be open and willing to believe him.

Their travel had been with no surprise. They had flown over dozens of leagues of snow. Eragon had never seen so much snow. Every night, they would sleep close to Saphira who melted a few feet of snow to rest. Thankfully, they had managed to reach their goal without running into a blizzard. They had tried to learn as much as possible from their surroundings, of the wildlife and the nature. So far, it seemed the place wasn't much different from Alagaësia. Saphira had been able to find a deer during one hunt.

They had decided to stay a little apart from the old castle, as a gesture of peace and protection and had once more used a white cloth. They had refused the furs and coat offered by commander Pyke. They couldn't bear to wear an animal's pelt so close and thus, had relied on magic during the entirety of their trip. They stood apart from the few farmers they had seen during their travel, buried under multiple layers of clothes.

After a few moments, the noise dimmed out inside the castle and they could hear orders being shouted and then silence. Silence until the doors from the castle slowly started to open in a loud cracking.

He looked at his friends and saw their resolved faces. Saphira also was looking with attention, ready to leave at the first sign of danger.

While the gates opened, they were able to study their surroundings and the castle standing in front of them. Eragon had to admit that without a dragon, it would be quite difficult and costly to invade. The walls were thick and well protected by multiple white turrets. Sieging this castle would be maddening. Or they would need one of Roran's idea. However, he was interrupted in his musings by Blödhgarm's smooth voice:

"They're coming out, they are on the edge"

Indeed, during his observations, the gates had opened and many had poured out of the castle, horseman and archers mostly. But they weren't really surprised nor afraid. They had faced lesser odds and come out victoriously. And if everything went well, they shouldn't have to fight them.

Making sure their wards were in place, they decided to take a few steps in the direction of the small army which gad gathered, still waving the white cloth. Their hands remained visible and Saphira stayed behind.

"Take care little one, don't look for danger"

"I will. And you know danger always finds me first" he replied with a smile, still walking slowly in the direction of the horsemen.

oOo

Quickly, the newcomers reached their group. The first thing Jon noticed was their grace. They whole body exhibited grace and strength. There was something about them that made him feel uncomfortable. He had only felt that feeling once, when facing the Night King at Hardhome. These newcomers breathed powers. There seem to be an aura of power around them.

Then, Jon noticed their attire. They all wore a very light armor. It was surprising to see people who weren't wearing furs and yet looked at ease in the harsh cold. They were also heavily armed. Bows, daggers and swords hanged at their sides and all looked beautifully crafted. But their eyes spoke for themselves. Those were the eyes of war veterans, eyes that had seen too much but also eyes of wisdom, the kind of eyes he used to see on Lord Commander Mormont or his father. And it showed that their weapons were as dangerous as they were pretty.

Jon quickly came to the conclusion that they shouldn't be messed with. They had prepared bread and salt and he could only hope that it would be enough. If they were to fight, they would probably be able to fight and beat the four men standing close. However, he certainly didn't want to upset the dragon who had remained behind. They didn't need Winterfell to become a second Harrenhal.

Ser Davos stood at his left and Tormund on his right. While the former sat on a horse, just like him, the tall wildling had preferred to remain afoot. Ghost had joined him at some point and was eying the dragon suspiciously but seemed to consider the situation safe at the moment.

The four strangers kept moving for a few moments before stopping at a dozen feet from them. They remained calm and their hands were blatantly in clear position. All the archers were ready to strike at once;

After a few moments of heavy silence, Davos opened the discussion

"This is Jon Snow" he said "He's king in the North" was added after a short silence.

"Nice to meet you King Jon, my name is Eragon Shadeslayer, son of Brom, rider of the dragon Saphira and these are my fellow companions" came the quick answer.

Jon saw that there was no kneeling nor real acknowledgment of his status, except for a small gesture from their heads. It didn't bother him at the moment but he was glad Sansa and the other lords who had decided to remain inside the castle were not present. There was no need to offer them signs of weaknesses. He was however troubled by this unusual greeting. Shadeslayer and Rider were titles he didn't know and he noticed the lack of Targaryen titles.

It seemed their worried and curious faces gave them away as the boy decided to talk once more.

"My friends and I come from very far. We arrived in Westeros ten nights ago and reached the Wall, at Eastwatch by the Sea. We have a letter from Commander Pyke addressed to you" and as he finished speaking, his left hand slowly went to his pocket to retrieve a letter, which showed the seal of the Night's Watch.

He threw the letter at Jon who caught it deftly. Quickly, Jon broke the seal and scanned the letter.

Lord Snow

These four people have quite a story to tell. They arrived with the dragon a week ago but have given no reason to distrust them... Their story is something to listen and too complicated to write down.

Weather is shit and cold. No sighting of wildlings in the last weeks. Seems they didn't need to be told twice to cross the Wall. We need more people to man the Wall, no one has arrived in the past year and we've lost too many in the previous years.

Cotter Pyke, commander of Eastwatch by the Sea

"Well, it seems Pyke vouches for you. For now, we will offer you salt and bread and hear you story."

"Thank you, we appreciate it" replied Eragon.

Their accent was unlike anything Jon had ever heard. And they didn't seem completely human too. They looked perfect, almost too perfect, like a bunch of pampered Southerners. Except for their eyes which were of hardened Northerners.

Jon got off his horse and closed the distance and brought them the salt and bread Davos had carried. Eragon eyed him and accepted it with a smile.

Now that the task was completed, Jon turned back and went back to his horse. However, after three steps, he heard a question that made him stop

"Where could Saphira stay?"

"Saphira?" came Jon's puzzled answer. Was there someone he had forgotten?

"Oh sorry, I forgot, she's my dragon."

Jon stopped dead in tracks. How could he have forgotten about the gigantic lizard sitting a hundred steps behind him? It wasn't as if it couldn't breathe fire and destroy the whole castle in a matter of seconds, right? Ser Davos was eying the dragon suspiciously and even Tormund seemed at a loss for once.

"She won't hurt anyone and is very friendly. She can remain in a courtyard if you've got one inside the castle? Otherwise, she could stay here too…" was added with some reluctance.

That was the first real emotion Jon perceived of the newcomers and he didn't expect sadness towards a dragon. However, he couldn't endanger his people with a dragon while his only insurance was a letter and the words of a stranger.

"I'm sorry but for the time being, I'd prefer to see her outside the walls. My people need time to understand and I want to make sure she's harmless to them. "As Jon finished talking, he saw Davos giving him a small nod. However, he swore the drake made a small whining sound and looked directly to him. He quickly looked in another direction.

Finally, Jon made it back to his horse. He started to make it back to the castle with the four newcomers following him. The soldiers came behind, effectively surrounding them. Within fifteen minutes, they had made it back to the castle, through the gates which had remained opened.

Chapter Text

Eragon and his friends were sitting on a high table in the great hall of Winterfell. They had been brought there by Jon, Davos and Tormund. An enormous white wolf stood close to them. His red eyes, full of intelligence, were locked on him and Saphira, probing them. He was ready to attack them at the first sign of danger. It looked like a Shrrg but the face was slightly different. Moreover, a tame Shrrg was impossible. While he would probably be able to defeat it, it would pain him and require some effort. He'd have to learn more about it.

They had arrived here minutes ago after crossing the town and were waiting for the last people to get in the hall.

They had met many suspicious and fearful faces on their way in. He didn't blame them, barging in with a dragon, unannounced. Hopefully, they would be more acceptant after hearing their story. But he knew words meant little for these people. He saw a lot of Carvahal in them. These people had faced multiple wars, had faced harsh winters and lived with only a few goods. Being a dragon rider and having magic tricks wouldn't matter to them unless he was able to create cereal fields out of nowhere, which he couldn't. If what Pyke had said was true, he was now being perceived as a new source of trouble, which greatly amused Saphira for some reason.

Actions would probably earn him their trust, more so than any words, Elan's birth had proven that before.

But for now, they had to convince the lords present at Winterfell that he wasn't there to cause harm. About forty of them were now assembled in the great hall. A battle had recently been fought and they were still dealing with the aftermath.

The snow had covered and erased most of the marks left by the battle but Saphira had been able to smell the blood. Many had died here it seemed.

They were seated as guests of honour, next to Jon and his sister Sansa and they were now facing an assembly of about a hundred people, mostly composed of seasoned men. All eyes were on him and his friends, until their attention shifted to Jon who had risen from his chair.

"We gathered here today after the appearance of a dragon. These people came with the dragon and claim to have quite a story to tell. They also came with a letter from Commander Pyke, from Eastwatch by the Sea. He claims that we should listen to them. We will listen to their story and from there, take our decision." and with that, he sat back.

Once again, all the eyes turned on him

"Talk Eragon, they won't wait forever" admonished Saphira

"Give me a moment. I'm always the one doing the talking after all" Eragon answered, grumbling

"Go on little one, you'll be fine" came her answer, with some reassurance but also some teasing

"Hello and thank you for having us in this castle and in your hall. As you may have gathered, my name is Eragon" said the young Rider "and these are my friends. "and with every name he spoke, an elf rose, gracefully.

"We've come from a far country called Alagaësia …"

People started to mutter and talk, rising voice, talking about this imaginary country and more nonsense. "Liars" could be hear above the noise.

Suddenly, Jon rose and silence met him. With a cold glare, he looked at the lords

"These people have been offered sanctuary and you call them liars. They came from the Wall. They've been touched by the Wall. Now my lords, remember that people have called me a liar when I talked about the Night King." His gaze seemed turned towards lord Glover who started to shift uncomfortably "But the Long Night is here, as you know my lords"

Facing the whole assembly with his severe gaze, he concluded

"For now, let's hear their story. I won't treat guests as liars without solid proof" and with that, he sat back

A long silence followed, only broken by Saphira's amused voice

"I like this one, he reminds me of Orik. Straight to the point"

Eragon turned towards Jon and after receiving a small nod, returned to his story

"Thank you. I know this sounds unbelievable but I urge you to listen. Our story only gets stranger, and with what I've seen at the Wall, you'll probably want to interrupt me, scream, laugh at me or call me a liar. I can only ask you to wait until the end of our story which will take a few hours. We will answer after all your questions to the best of our capacities"

Eragon was met by many calculating, curious or even surprised looks but he decided to carry on. During their travel to Winterfell, he had had time to improve his speech, find flaws and made their story easier to understand. And he could see them now, hanging on every word and every gesture, their eyes going wider and wider. Some had started to open their mouth to protest or interrupt him at one point of another but a look form Jon stopped them every time.

"And this is how, after two months of sailing, we reached Westeros, at Eastwatch by the Sea."

Finally, after two long hours, Eragon stopped his story. A long silence met him and the seconds tickled one by one. Time seemed to stop until everyone started talking at once: people raising their voice, wide gestures, questions being screamed… Madness, all of it.

Saphira was openly laughing this time and was sharing her thoughts with the elves and Eragon.

"It seems you won't get any rest soon little one"

Eragon only groaned and turned to face Jon. The King met his stare and only raised an eyebrow with a smirk. He too was enjoying this and expected Eragon to clean this mess! No doubt he also had some questions.

After a few more seconds, Eragon decided he had enough. The screams were bothering him and he wanted to sleep, meet Saphira or simply meditate in peace. The Eldunaris remained silent, observing him and their surroundings.

"Brisingr" whispered Eragon

At once, all the fires from the great hall surged to life. The noises dimmed down and the people looked at him with fear in their eyes. Jon's sister, Sansa, let some surprise broke her cold appearance.

"Show-off" muttered Saphira

"I take after you" answered Eragon through their bond before turning to the room "I'm sorry for this little display of power but my friends and I are tired. We promised to answer your questions and we will honour our promise. Please, one by one"

"How did you do that! Are you a red priest too?" whispered Davos

Eragon turned to face him and noticed his worried face. Ser Davos, which had maintained a neutral face during his story was now looking at him with some fear in the eyes.

"I don't know about these priests. I will admit that I'm not the most faithful person but I believe in something above us. What are these red priests?" asked the young Rider.

"The Red Priest believe in what they call the Lord of Light or R'hllor. They are most zealous and believe in the power of fire and blood. Some of us have had … difficult encounters with such people, be it good or bad. I've lost someone dear with them, sacrificed. But someone was also brought back to life"

Eragon was flabbergasted. Human sacrifices were not unheard of in Alagaësia, he had witnessed some of them first-hand in Helgrind. He was disgusted by these methods and didn't believe these sacrifices held any value. However, resurrections were unheard of! Each and every trial had resulted in the death of the caster, without any exception. And yet, it seems that such events were common.

For the first time since they arrived in Westeros, Eragon felt some anxiety. However, he felt the gaze and saw that he had been lost in his thoughts. The others hadn't warned him as they were in the same state. Quickly, Eragon gathered his spirits and answered them

"I'm truly sorry for this clumsy demonstration of magic, which scared some of you. We weren't aware of this religion and its practise. I'm strongly opposed to human sacrifice which I find barbaric. Regarding resurrection, I'm at a loss. This is one of the few rules of our magic. We can't bring back the dead. The energy required for this is simply too important." finished Eragon.

Ser Davos and a few others relaxed and the sailor gave him a short nod and a quick thanks.

"Could you describe this magic of yours" asked one of the only men in the room without a sword with a sulky voice.

Eragon felt the atmosphere of the room shift. He noticed Sansa straightening in her chair and Jon frowning. Somehow, that man was different, Eragon could sense it. His eyes were calculating and his appearance more kept than most women Eragon had met. He was thankful he hadn't spilled everything about his powers. So far, they believed only a dragon could use mental communication and they intended to keep it that way. He would have to learn about that man, quickly.

Carefully, he explained the concept of magic and many questions followed suit. Eragon ended up repeating much which had been said at the wall. One of his friends would sometimes answer. The question kept going and the day was slowly coming to an end.

But one of the lords grew bored of Eragon's polite and well-thought answers. Lord Glover wasn't known for being the cleverest man but he wanted a reaction from these strangers. After Eragon finished answering lord Cerwin's question, he rose up and directly asked

"And what about that dragon of yours? Will that beast start to eat our men and cows? Do we need to keep it with a leash?"

Eragon knew he had to quickly intervene before things get messy. Unfortunately, Saphira beat him on this one. Swiftly, she englobed the people in the room with her mind

"I hope you're not talking about me small two legged. A dragon is not a pet and will certainly not accept a leash!"

Her voice was a mere whisper in their mind but contained all of her anger and indignation.

Eragon decided to speak before the situation got out of control. People were already pale and looking for their swords, at Jon or at the elves with mistrust in their eyes.

"Dragons are proud and intelligent creatures. They don't take well to insults and Saphira perhaps more than the others. She won't be a threat if treated with respect." he said with calm and reassurance before addressing his partner "you should have been calmer. I know he insulted you but they didn't know. This situation won't be the last, you need to control yourself. Please Saphira, help us to ease the tension" implored Eragon

After a moment of silence, Saphira once again spoke to the assembly through their mind

"I am sorry for my previous outburst" the worlds were spoken slowly. Saphira hated it but she knew that Eragon counted of her and for this one time, she would apologise. "But as Eragon mentioned, I'm not a mere pet. I would like to thank you for the warm welcome you've provided Eragon and his friends. Dragons don't interfere with humans and I can take care of myself without troubling you. But any harm inflicted on Eragon will be met by fire and blood"

Saphira stopped talking and retreated from their minds. Everyone had blanched at her last words. It seemed that most had forgotten about the dangerous dragon laying a hundred feet from them.

"I don't know if I should thank you or not. They're completely afraid now" chuckled Eragon

"I know, that was the purpose. And don't worry, I won't eat them, the majority are skin and bones and they wear too much furs, that's bad for my digestion. Let them fear dragons." added Saphira

Lord Glower was currently hiding on his bench. Clearly, he hadn't expected Saphira to hear him and while she had apologised, he knew his words had started this.

This outburst seemed to dampen the mood and the meeting quickly finished. A few more questions had been asked, but Eragon had felt the people were more cautions with their words and would need time to judge him. For now, he would try to remain discrete and learn more about the Night King. Learning about the Targaryens would be quite helpful too,

A servant had shown them their rooms and they had been quick to bring their belongings. Eragon was amazed by the walls of his room. They were hot, almost burning.

"How are you Saphira" asked the young Rider

"Well, the snow is cold and there's no way to hide from it. But I will survive Eragon don't worry, rest now, you have a long day awaiting tomorrow' answered

"Thank you Saphira, you're amazing. Sleep well and don't eat too much of Lord Glover's men, will you" teased Eragon.

Saphira grumbled but he was already asleep, lost in a word of colours and ghostly sensations.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast in the great hall with his friends, Eragon met with Jon, Sansa, Ser Davos and a few other lords in a rich solar. His friends had decided to wander around the castle and discover the nature of the region while Saphira had decided to hunt.

As a result, only Eragon and the Eldunaris, who were still in their dimensional pocket, were listening to their report. The recent battle had taken its toll and unfortunately, many more would die from their wounds in the coming days. Eragon knew he couldn't simply heal everyone, but he would try to save some.

The castle had been taken back a few days ago but they were in a rush to prepare against the coming threats. Two major problems had been identified. The war against the Night King and the stocks of food for the coming months. According to Jon, who had been crowned in the wake of the battle and only a few weeks before their arrival, the fight against the dead would happen rather sooner than later. They probably had a year, if not two, to prepare against this foe. The enemy had won the battle at Hardhome but had to bypass the water and seas. Jon had faced them and lived to tell it. Eragon knew he would have to talk to him, preferably alone, to learn more about it, but he didn't want to expose his abilities. News tend to travel very fast in castles and some secrets had to remain well, secrets.

The latter problem was the result of a complicated past and an uncertain future. And the situation was dire. The stocks of grain were low and Eragon understood that the people here had suffered a lot in the past few years. He was still not completely sure what to make of winters during several years. He had lived his first fifteen years as a farmer and he remembered how important the weather was and how difficult winters could be if the summer before had been complicated.

"How long would it take to bring food from other regions? Is that even possible?"

"Of course, we sent ravens to the rest of the Kingdom. As soon as we were done with the Bolton. But it will take time and the snow doesn't make it easier" snapped Sansa, clearly not happy with his presence.

"I didn't mean to disrespect. We've just arrived and we're still discovering and learning about the region. If the snow is an issue, Saphira may be able to melt some with her fire. It's not optimal but it can be useful"

"Thank you for your offer, we will certainly think of it" answered Jon.

They quickly switched to another topic and by noon, they were mostly done. News were expected to arrive in the coming days and they would probably adapt their plans based on their content.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day was spent with Saphira. In the great hall, he found a few slices of bread with some cheese. While not particularly tasty, it would fill his stomach for the afternoon. Saphira had managed to create a small shelter near the woods to be protected from the snow. It was fairly easy to spot with the large spaces of melted snow and the big traces left by Saphira.

He also noticed that people were watching him. Wherever he walked, he could feel their suspicious eyes drilled into his back. A few soldiers were following him to protect him, according to them. Eragon decided not to protest too loudly against Lady Stark's decisions as long as the soldiers weren't too noisy. He simply wanted to spend some time with his dragon and as long as they remained at a safe distance, it didn't bother him.

Their paces started to get slower as they got closer to Saphira, who was looking intensely in their direction. Finally, they deemed the situation safe and stopped

"Hello little one" said Saphira as a greeting

"Hello Saphira! How's my favourite dragon today?" asked Eragon

"I'm your only dragon! And it's cold there. At least at the Wall, I was protected against the wind the trees here don't cover much. But I'll manage don't worry. This is not ideal but dragons are meant to stay outside, not circled by packs of stone." came her answer

"You're right, but it doesn't mean I can't try to help you" argued Eragon

"It's ok Eragon, I'm not a hatchling. You're sweet little one but you would know how to make a nest for dragon just as well as I would know how to make one of your silly wooden nests." chuckled Saphira

Finally, they feel into a relaxing pattern, with Eragon sitting close to her belly and absently stoking her scales. Eldunaris would sometimes comment on the recent events but for the moment, they were left alone. Eragon cherished those quiet times, as it allowed him to simply enjoy the presence of his chosen one peacefully. They had had to grow quickly, too quickly sometimes, but now, they just wanted to make up for the lost time before the next storm could reach them. While Eragon was getting worried about this long night, Saphira only wanted to meet Daenerys Targaryen and her three dragons. The rest mattered little for her at this point.

But too soon, it was time to leave his partner and to regain the castle. The night fell quickly in Westeros and he didn't fancy sleeping outside. He could already picture the lords, thinking he was saddling Saphira to destroy Winterfell. And so, he quickly jogged back to the castle, passing in front of the two guards who had followed him and who had troubles keeping up with his slow rhythm.

After a few hours of rest inside the castle, Eragon decided he wanted to explore Winterfell. There was no meeting planned so he wouldn't be pressed by time. The days before, he only had had a few moments to look at the castle, too focused on Jon and his companions to care about the architecture. But now, he was able to truly observe it and see how much he had underestimated its defences. It was an ancient and a powerful stronghold with very thick walls. That Bolton had been a fool to leave the protection offered by the castle.

The whole town was surrounded by strong and thick walls, reinforced several times. They were large enough for Saphira to stand on them and some parts were at least fifty feet high. Several small turrets had also been built along the walls to reinforce and make it completely impenetrable.

The main structure, where lived Jon, Sansa and most of the lords stood in the middle and was part of a complex structure made of several circular turrets. While the banner of the Starks -some kind of wolf- were raised, there were still marks of the previous occupations. Stains of fire and blood still tainted parts of the grey walls and had yet to be erased. In the market, people only bought the strict necessary, not that there was much more on the displays.

The people were also wary of them and Saphira's outburst had added more fuel to the fire. It felt strange for Eragon. For the past years, he had been seen as a saviour. Cries of Shadeslayer, Kingslayer or even Argetlam had followed his steps for the past few years, often filled with wonder and admiration. But now, he was a stranger, someone eyed with suspicion and it bothered him more than what he had expected. It seemed that no guards would follow him as long as he remained in plain sight, inside the walls of the castle.

Finally, after his tour of the castle, he decided to go towards the small wood he had spotted before. The Eldunaris had noted a small disturbance and were curious about it. Maudria and Gaerdin had gone outside the boundaries of the castle the day before but hadn't talked about this place. From what they had told him, the trees and wildlife were roughly the same as the Spine.

Being alone would help him. It had been a long time since he had time for himself or just with Saphira. Travelling on boat hadn't offered a lot of privacy. He now understood Oromis' desire to live apart from Ellesméra.

There was an eerie atmosphere in this place. He was surrounded by trees there but they had all lost their leaves. The whole place was covered in snow. Eragon walked absently between the trees. The sound of his boots against the snow resonated in the white forest. There was no other noise. The trees were completely isolating Eragon from all the activities happening a few feet behind him. He didn't have any goal in mind when he entered this place but now, he felt something unique, ancient. This was what had attracted the attention of the dragons in their scrying.

He just followed his instinct and went deeper into the wood. He could hear the soft sound made by his boots on the snow. He was completely alone and the silence around him was total.

A few moments later, Eragon stood, mouth agape, in front of the most unique and unusual tree he had even seen, and he counted the Menoa Tree with this! But while his eyes saw an impressive tree, his mind was seeing an entirely different thing. He could feel the power behind this tree. The same power he had felt on the Wall. This tree was a source of power, ready to be used.

The tree in front of him stood in contrast to all the others he had seen today. It was as large as the old trees of Du Weldenvaden. Its leaves, red as blood, were still attached to the branches. But the most impressive feature was the carvings done on its white bark. He could see outline's of someone face, in great pain, crying. The eyes were leaking a strange red sap. He wanted to touch it, feel this physical materialisation of pain. He felt moved by what he saw and the talent used there.

Eragon felt a sense of curiosity coming from Valdr. A succession of images went though his mind. He saw the rows of stoned Kings situated in Tronjheim, the loss of loved ones and the growth of a small snake.

But as always with Valdr, Eragon felt more confused than before. But it seems others understood the meaning behind his thoughts.

"This is not a human carving, the face is part of tree itself" whispered Glaedr "Look at the carvings, they're not carved like a human would, it looks more like the singing from elves!"

Intrigued by his mentor's advices, Eragon took a few steps towards the tree. Indeed, on a closer look, Eragon could see that the carving was part of the bark. But it only served to confuse him more. Who had done this?

He stayed a long time like this, close to the tree. He had touched the tree but nothing had come of it.

After a few moments, he heard some noise behind him and turned to face Jon Snow. He had sensed his arrival but had decided to remain here. Jon seemed surprised to find Eragon here.

"My father used to come here whenever he wanted some peace and when he had to take some decisions." Offered Jon as an explanation of his presence here.

Eragon didn't know what to say. He had learnt about Eddard Stark's demise, a few years ago. Instead, he pointed to the great three behind him "What is this tree? I've never seen anything like it"

"You are in the Godswood of Winterfell. This is a Weirwood, where people pray the Old Gods."

"Old? So, there are new gods too?" asked Eragon with a laugh

But Jon smiled before answering by the positive and starting to explain the several religions and their importance in Westeros. He remembered Cotter Pyke's comment about the Drowned God, which now made sense. After his explanation, Eragon decided to take his leave, to let Jon have the privacy he needed. He would try to see Saphira before the night instead.

Eragon had barely left the place when he heard shouts coming from where he had just left. Rushing back to the Weirwood, what he saw made him freeze for a second. Jon Snow was laying in the snow and seemed to have troubles breathing. The one who had done this was long gone and if Eragon wanted to save the man, there was no time to lose. He turned to Jon to find his wound. Jon, managed to chock something that sounded close to "neck". He quickly spotted the red spot on the back of his neck where blood was leaking. A small dart lay next to him

He had been poisoned and if he didn't react quickly, Jon would probably die. He had no way of knowing the exact poison used given that he was in a completely new region without any knowledge on their poison. Trying to heal him without knowing which plant had been used could do more wrong than good to Jon. But Jon had already troubles breathing.

"Eragon, I can see the one who did this, he's escaping" told Saphira

"Try to stop him but don't take any risk, he's skilled If he managed to overtake Jon"

"Don't worry little one, save him and I'll stop the one who did this. The elves are already on their way"

Reassured, Eragon continued to help Jon. He was singing to liberate his lungs. It seems it had some effect and Jon started to breathe more easily, but his state was still critical.

Without losing a second, he grabbed him and ran in the direction of the castle, to find the Maester. Within five minutes, he had reached the great hall. People screamed on his way when they saw who was on his back and Sansa lost all countenance when she saw Jon on his back.

"You did this?" she yelled

"He needs help. I didn't do this! I tried to help him but I don't know what poison was used. Help me save your brother now" answered Eragon dangerously

His tone seemed to frighten her but he had made his point. A Maester quickly found its way to the table where Jon was laying. He was barely conscious and was starting to have already more troubles breathing.

Without losing a second, Eragon told him about Jon's symptoms and showed him the spot on his back which had significantly darkened.

The Maester's face fell "I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do. The poison used here is very rare and while a cure exists, I don't have it"

Sansa was now crying but Eragon was having none of it. Jon's eyes were shut but his face betrayed the pain and trouble he was facing. The man seemed to be in a lot of pain.

"The cure, what is it?"

"Well, you would need Edelweiss leaves, Cobalt and a fresh rumen from a cow, of which we have none. I'm sorry, I can't do anything. It's a miracle he survived up to now." answered the Maester with some sadness. The cries were getting louder around him but Eragon wasn't listening. If indeed the flora and fauna were roughly the same, the symptoms and the antidote pointed to one specific poison, which was …

"The Shadow's bliss" said Umaroth. "You remember how to treat it Eragon?"

He quickly reviewed the words with the dragon and started his work. Jon was starting to shake and his face was now complete white and his breathing more and more erratic.

They quickly removed Jon's armor and corset. It would ease his breathing and remove some pressure on his chest. As he did this, he noticed the end of a few scars ending close to Jon's heart. His curiosity was piqued but he couldn't forget his first objectif.

Eragon started the slow incantation. His voice seemed to silence everyone in the room. He felt their gaze lingering on his back but he couldn't care less. They couldn't let Jon die now. In the few days he had spent here, Eragon had understood that Jon was probably the most suited to united wildlings and northerners and fight the dead. He imagined little Ismira, Arya, Orik or Murthag fighting against these monsters, years later in Alagaësia because Westeros couldn't fight them. He refused to let this happen.

Outside, people were panicking and screaming. Saphira, with the two elves, had landed in the middle of the courtyard. He hadn't felt any pain or anger from her in the past minutes and deducted she had found the man.

"I'm here little one, we found the man. Save the wolf companion, I'll protect you"

And he continued, slowly, carefully not to make any mistake. Once again, the task ahead of him was delicate. He needed to extract all the poison diluted in his blood without damaging Jon's blood vessels.

He didn't know what his companions had said or done but the silence had now reached the courtyard. The only sound he could hear was his own voice, singing the spell under Umaroth and Glaedr' careful guidance. After nearly ten minutes, he could see some small progress: Jon's breathing had evened and he wasn't as feverish. But if he wanted to save him, he had to extract all the poison, otherwise all his work would have been naught.

Finally, they could see the poison starting to leave Jon's body. Small yellowish droplets were leaking out of his wound. The process was slow but they couldn't rush it. Eragon continued his spell until he was sure all the poison had been purged and that his lungs were back to normal. Finally, ten minutes after the last droplet had been seen, Eragon stopped singing. His mouth was dry from the hour-long effort.

The master stood shocked close to him "I've never seen anything like this"

Stretching his legs, he looked at his surroundings. Everyone was standing and looking at Jon who seemed to have fallen asleep during the process. Tears had dried on some and worry was plastered on many faces.

"He needs some rest. The poised has been drained but he must be tired." announced Eragon

Jon was unconscious at the moment but they needed to move him to a proper bed if they wanted him to rest properly. Two men slowly lifted his body and lifted him on a stretcher which had been brought. Sansa made the move to follow them but before she could take more than a few steps, Eragon caught her by the arm. He noticed the flinch she made at his contact

"If his state worsens, call me, don't hesitate, alright?" urged Eragon. Seeing her node, he offered her a soft smile and noticing his outstretched arm, released her from his grip.

With a thank you, Sansa left to catch up with the men who were bringing Jon to his chamber.

Finally, Eragon sat, letting go of all the tension accumulated in the previous hours. The spell hadn't been that draining but had required precision and dexterity, which he lacked in experience.

"You did well Eragon" said Saphira

"Thank you" was his short reply

Eragon decided he wanted to see the assassin. He grabbed his cloak, which was resting on a bench, and took the direction of the massive doors. As he opened the door, many took a step back from they saw. Saphira stood in the middle of the courtyard and was assisted by Maudria and Gaerdin. The assassin laid at their feet, bound tightly. The crowd had gathered and created a circle around them. They had to be curious, after seeing Eragon run dragging the body of their King half dead followed a dragon bringing a tied man.

He must have been twenty-five at most. He had been placed close to Saphira's front left leg, gagged and bound and under the surveillance of the two elves.

He didn't look afraid or angered. In fact, his eyes didn't betray much of what he was feeling; He simply laid there, still as a statue. Through his mind, Eragon asked the elves about his capture.

"That one is strange Shadeslayer. We were unable to stop him by magic, his mind was heavily protected. We took him by force but he was also quite skilled." said Maudria.

"I believe this is out of our hands now, they will probably want to judge him themselves after what he's done. "answered Eragon. "But keep on eye on him, there's too much going on at the moment and I don't like it" did he add

He received the equivalent of a mental node and made his way towards Ser Davos. "He's the one who poisoned King Jon" said Eragon. Immediately, whispers broke off in the crowd. Facing them, he continued "He has been saved and is currently recovering in his rooms"

This seemed to trigger the first reaction of the assassin, who looked surprised at the news. It seems he hadn't expected Jon to survive. Now that the crowd was busy chatting about the assassination attempt, he whispered to Ser Davos "You should keep him locked until Jon recovers" to which the sailor quickly agreed. "My friends will help to guard him should the need arise"

After barking a few orders, two men quickly took the man away, to a cell guessed Eragon. Swiftly, his two friends started to follow them silently.

Chapter Text

The attempted poisoning had chocked many. Jon Snow was still recovering in his rooms and hadn't been seen outside of them since that day. People would bring some food or discuss the content of ravens directly in his bedroom. He was mostly tired and would need time to properly recuperate. However, Eragon had just been called to the cells. It seemed that Jon had left the confines of his room and that the interrogation would start soon.

Upon hearing the news, Eragon left the small street he was currently in and made his way towards the cells. They were wet, cold and not very big. Not many of them were used and he could easily pick up the one with the assassin. A small group of people were gathered in front of it: Jon, Davos, a few soldiers and Maudria. Making his presence known, they all turned to face him. They looked surprised to see him but Eragon was happy to see that no anger was present on their features. Only the prisoner remained emotionless.

The prisoner was certainly thinner and dirtier, after being held in a cell for nearly a week, bound at his hands and feet. They were not taking any chance with someone who had taken such length to kill Jon. Afterall, that poison was very rare and his moves against the elves had been swift and precise.

"He hasn't said a single word" said Davos as introduction.

"Have you been able to see anything from his mind" enquired Eragon to Maudria.

However, it seemed that for some reason, this person had impressive mental protections. Nothing unbreakable, but enough to make it impossible to look through them discretely. Eragon would need to find a way.

But Eragon's presence brought the assassin out of his silence.

"The many-faced god asked for a name. But this one saved one life, even if no one knows how he saved him. The many-faced god will take its due soon. A name for a life, a life for a name." said the man with a voice void of emotions.

"Jon, he's a Faceless man. These are assassins from Bravos that you can hire in exchange of money. The best money can buy" whispered Davos.

"So, I've been targeted on purpose once again. Now, we only have to find out who did this" answered Jon, visibly troubled.

Eragon suddenly remembered the impressive scars he had seen on his chest a few days ago. Had there already been an attempt on his life? But Eragon was more interested to learn more about this assassin. He was troubled because he hadn't been able to hear him until it was nearly too late for Jon. He wanted to see what those Faceless men were and for this, he would need to get into his mind, alone or with one elf preferably. He didn't know how long the others would stay though.

Jon took a few steps and stood in front of the man

"Who hired you? Who asked this contract?" he asked, his voice betraying part of his anger and frustration. Seconds passed but the man remained silent, his eyes fixed on a spot behind Jon.

More people interrogated him or threatened him with a sword or a dagger but he remained silent, his eyes never leaving the spot on the wall.

Jon had no intention of staying here very long which suited Eragon just fine. In a few words, he announced that the man was to be executed tomorrow for his actions against the North and asked them to see if they could get a few answers out of this man, but it was clear that he had no real hope.

The man, who had remained anonymous, didn't seem too fazed by the news. He merely looked at Jon before whispering "Valar Morgulis" and closing his eyes. This was the only reaction they had gotten out of him.

Moments later, Jon and Davos left the cells and went back to the warmth offered by the castle and so Eragon was left with the prisoner and the two guards.

"Would it be possible to privately interrogate that man?" asked Eragon

One of the guards looked hesitantly between the cell and Eragon. However, the other had no such qualms. He grabbed the other guard and brought him a few steps behind, where they wouldn't be able to overhear or see the inside of the cell. As he passed next to Eragon, he made a point to stop: "If anything happens to the prisoner, it is your problem. If anything happens to you, it is your problem. If anything happens to us, it is your problem, got it?"

He nodded and turned back his attention to the prisoner and pushed his mind in his direction. He was surprised by the walls he found there but there was no match for his scrying. The man had sensed his invasion and his face quickly became tense. But there was nothing he could do to stop Eragon from invading his memories.

Within moments, his barriers had fallen and Eragon with the Eldunaris were browsing through his memories. His mind was completely different from the ones he had felt before. Two major entities dominated and structured his mind: life and death. His whole life and the Faceless Man were dedicated to these two concepts. What they discovered made his stomach drop. This organisation was something unique! These men were trained to kill. Trained to become the best assassins in Westeros and Essos. Pushing more, his surprise rose when he saw that Jon but also Sansa had been the targets of the Faceless Man. Two distinct parties had wished their death.

He could see a scroll, written by Cersei Lannister, asking for Sansa's death. Jon's death however, remained mysterious. He couldn't find any clue on who had paid for this.

Eragon didn't stop there though, he needed to discover as much as he could about them. The images and sensations flew in his mind. He saw the countless deaths, the assassin's prayers to the multi faced God, his training to become no one. There was something more than their skills or their knowledge. There was some powerful magic in here. The man in front of him had erased his past and embraced his new identity. He was no one, able to become whoever he wanted by swapping faces. He had never seen anything like that before. People always kept a small part of their previous self usually but here; he had erased all about his previous life.

His training in Braavos, his first kill, his first gift to the temple, his first transformation. His life truly started with the death of his previous personality, of which Eragon couldn't find any mark. Since all the assassins swapped faces, he was also unable to know how many person counted the organisation.

He saw the careful planning of the attack, the selection of the poison and the travel from Braavos to Winterfell. Nothing had been left to chance and only Eragon's unexpected presence had probably saved both Jon and Sansa's lives.

Absently, he left the assassin's mind who stared blankly at him, his eyes unfocused and his mouth slightly agape. Without another look, Eragon turned back on his feet and passed through the guards, mindlessly nodding to them.

Troubled and slightly afraid, he left the cold and damp cell and went back to his room to think about everything he had seen. Every day brought its share of surprises.

The rest of the day and the following night was spent meditating and thinking about what he had witnessed. Jeod's voice taunted him in the distance "She was his Black Hand". Saphira tried to comfort him

When Eragon left its room the next day without having gotten any sleep, it was because a new meeting had been issued by Jon Snow. Eragon had been invited but didn't know the content of it and it seemed he wasn't the only one in that case. Jon hadn't shared anything when they had faced the Faceless Man the day before. Well, he would have to go, to see what was happening. Gaerdin would also be here while Maudria would remain guarding the man in the cells. Since their discovery of his unique powers and his skills, they didn't trust the usual guards. But that wouldn't stop them from sharing what they heard with him.

When they arrived, the room was already quite full with boisterous chatter. This time, they weren't sitting on the head table. Only Sansa and Jon sat there; Eragon was sitting next to Tormund and Gaerdin on one of the multiple benches present in the hall. The wildling welcomed him with a slap on his back and a booming laugh.

"Look who joins us. Eragon the Dragon Rider and saviour of Jon Snow. But you didn't tell us how many women have seen your pretty sword in your story. What about this Arya or Nasuada?"

He felt blood rush to this face and spluttered a few words.

"Don't tell me your sword has never left its sheath!"

When Eragon failed to answer, Tormund only seemed to find the situation funnier and laughed at the expense of his neighbour.

"Worse than Jon Snow, and that is something! Bet he didn't expect to fall in love when he joined us. Ygritte was something though. Kissed by fire that one."

This only served to spike Eragon's curiosity. Why had Jon decided to join the Wildlings? And who was Ygritte? But before he could voice his questions, Jon raised from its chair. He wore his usual corset and nothing about his demeanour indicated he had almost died less than a week ago. The chatter died almost immediately.

"My lords, thank you for coming here today. The past few days have been eventful and several decisions have been taken. As you've already heard, an attempt on my life has been made a few days ago. Only Eragon's quick actions managed to save me and for this, the North and I have a debt to him. We found out that this man was a Faceless Man, hired to kill me. As such, he will be executed tomorrow morning for his acts against the North."

People started to whisper and many were trying to take a glance at Eragon. He remained frozen on his bench, his face betraying nothing of his emotions.

"The North remembers my lords, and we will not bow to Cersei Lannister or anyone who wishes to see me dead. We fought and bled to take back the North from the Bolton and the Lannister. And we will continue to fight to keep it." boomed Jon, receiving shouts and cheers from the lord. After a moment, he continued his speech, showing two small scrolls in his left hand.

"I also received a message from Samwell Tarly. He was my brother at the Night's Watch, a man I trust as much as anyone in this world. He's discovered proof that Dragonstone sits on a mountain of dragonglass" said Jon. This time, the noise was more important, more hostile. Dragonstone was Daenerys's stronghold and probably Eragon's next stop.

"Which brings us to the next message I've received, from Dragonstone. It was signed by Tyrion Lannister. He's now Hand of the Queen to Daenerys Targaryen" added Jon over the noise. Eragon had a good idea of what was behind this message. If half the things he had heard about Daenerys were true, she was probably asking Jon to pledge allegiance. Jon Snow's next words proved him true. Tyrion Lannister also mentioned three dragons in his message which only increased Saphira's excitement.

"Eragon, we need to see these dragons and met Daenerys Targaryen. With or without Jon Snow and these hard-stuck northerners "said Saphira in a tone that wouldn't accept no as an answer.

"I know Saphira, but we need to prepare this carefully. We can't simply barge in." answered Eragon

"Of course, we can, I'm a dragon, you have the Eldunaris and you know enough magic to blow up their castle in ten different manners. Now, you take the saddle, the elves who want to leave and we go."

"… invited me to Dragonstone, to meet with Daenerys. And I'm going to accept" finished Jon.

Pandemonium broke in the great hall and Eragon winced at the sudden increase of noise. Everyone was voicing his opinions and steadily raising his voice to be heard above the others. Even Sansa Stark who usually managed to keep a calm face couldn't refrain her surprise at her half-brother's statement.

Eragon understood that barely any of these lords knew anything about politics. They were like King Orrin: impulsive and dominated by their wish to prove their superiority. They had chosen their King but expected to overrule him on one of his first decisions. Only a few of them remained calm. A young girl, who must barely be twelve-year-old who was looking with some anger at the lords while another was looking with mirth in his eyes at the evolution of the scene. Eragon remembered this man to be the one who had asked about his magic. He was standing in the back of the room, eyeing the scene taking place. They would need to learn about this one quickly.

But Jon was continuing, overlooking all the comments

"We know that dragonglass can destroy the White Walkers and their army. We need to mine it and turn it into weapons. But more importantly we need allies. The Night King's army grows larger by the day. We can't defeat them on our own. We don't have the numbers. Daenerys has her own army and she has dragon fire. I need to try and persuade her to fight with us. Ser Davos and I will ride for"

He felt Saphira's joy at this last statement "Tomorrow, with or without them" she exclaimed firmly but with mirth in her voice

But her pleasure was short lived. Someone in the back of the room had decided to make his disapproval more apparent and was using the short silence to shout at Jon "And what about the newcomer? He also has a dragon and this magic. He saved a continent; he could also save us here."

All the eyes of the room turned on Eragon. He took a few breaths before facing the lords

"I appreciate the trust you put in Saphira and I. We believe Jon Snow. And we will fight, because we believe this is the right thing, the right choice. But refusing to seek help is madness. We've faced this situation, and the real question is 'Who is the true enemy?'. Jon Snow has answered this question. You can't decide who your father is and I've learnt she fought to free many in Essos. Our goal here is to understand and learn about dragons, and Daenerys Targaryen is surely our best lead in Westeros. I won't fight before asking her to join this fight and before learning about her dragons." said Eragon firmly.

Silence came back into his room as everyone pondered his words.

After this eventful meeting, the execution of the assassin had almost looked dull. The man had been brought, without resistance, to the courtyard, where a small log had been placed. Its death had been swift. Jon had said a few words before beheading the man, who had remained unfazed until the end. His last words had been Valar Morgulis, once more. There had been no cheering or no real acknowledgement of his death. The crowd had come, had assisted at the execution and had resumed its activities after while Jon had gone to the Godswood, followed this time by a number of guards.

Eragon decided to prepare for the coming trip to Dragonstone in the meantime, not sure if he would go with or without Jon.

But he got his answer fairly quickly, when the young King came back from his prayers. Jon asked him if he wanted to come with him and a small delegation designed to meet Daenerys Targaryen. Eragon had been elated to agree.

There was just one issue with this trip. The Northerners had decided to make a small delegation and to ride by horse until some place where they would take a boat, bringing them to Dragonstone. Eragon had understood but that would still take them weeks to reach the Castle situated on the East coast. Saphira certainly didn't want to wait that long and Eragon agreed with her. There was no point for them to lose time while they could reach Daenerys in mere days.

After some negotiations with Saphira -which mostly involved finding some ale for her- they had decided to offer Jon and Davos the possibility to fly with them. Maudria would also come while Gaerdin would remain in Winterfell to welcome the remaining elves who had yet to arrive. All of this had needed some careful planning and many negotiations between Eldunaris, elves, Eragon and Saphira.

When Eragon had proposed it to Jon, his face had been priceless. A mix of worry, excitement, fear and thinking. After a brief conversation with Davos, he had accepted Eragon's offer to travel on Saphira's back.

"I feel like a horse, carrying people from one point to another" grumbled Saphira but her emotions betrayed the excitement she was currently feeling at the prospect of meeting three new dragons!

Some lords had also grumbled but for a completely different reason. They wanted him to stay since they didn't completely trust him. Jon's rescue had helped to mend the bridge but they needed more time to completely earn the trust of these people, something they dearly missed at the moment and wasn't their first priority. However, Eragon was more than happy to point out that he could also leave on his own with Saphira and reach Daenerys weeks before Jon. This was usually enough to shut them up.

The remaining elves hadn't arrived yet but overly Eragon wasn't worried. They had all fought against Galbatorix and some had crossed Alagaësia without being caught to protect him. From what he had seen of the North during their travel from the Wall to Winterfell on Saphira's back, there shouldn't be any issue for them. He had left a letter for them, to explain the situation. The people at Winterfell had also been warned of Blödhgarm's unusual appearance.

Finally, it was time to leave. Saphira had been saddled and was waiting for them in the courtyard where everyone was gathered after a tense breakfast in the great hall. Sansa still wasn't happy with Jon's decision to leave the castle. A few moments later, they left the hall to reach the place where Saphira stood. All Winterfell had gathered to see their departure. Eragon knew Saphira enjoyed being at the centre of the attention.

Jon was currently talking to his sister and offering some last instructions.

Eragon stood close to the two elves, absently stroking Saphira while he observed all the pompous lords present for the occasion.

Jon was done since he was now facing Eragon with an unreadable expression on his face. Was he annoyed, excited or even bored? He couldn't tell.

With rapt attention, the whole crowd observed their final moments. Saphira had lowered to give them an easy access. Jon and Davos had climbed where they could, guided by Eragon, to reach Saphira's back where the saddle stood. The spines were as helpful as they were dangerous. Both clang on one of them but Davos had slipped when he had tried to stretch his leg on the other side. The look on his face had been priceless and Eragon had needed all his control not to burst into laughter. Some hadn't had his control. He was pretty sure Tormund was the one who had shouted

"Careful not to lose your balls like your fingers, you only have two of them, not ten!"

Davos had flushed but both men remained silent and concentrated on their position. Maudria and Eragon then swiftly climbed Saphira and made sure all the straps were in place and wouldn't hurt their travelling companions. Saphira was getting impatient and wanted to take off and reach this Dragon Queen.

"Are the two ready to depart?" asked Saphira.

Eragon, who stood the closest to Saphira's neck, turned his head and looked at Jon and Davos. Their faces were white but their faces were concentrated and their hands firmly locked on a spine.

"Yes they are, we can go" answered Eragon

With two powerful beating of wings and a mighty roar, Saphira was in the air. They could hear the cries coming from below. She quickly took off and within a few seconds, they high in the sky and the faces of the people in the courtyard were now mere points.

Chapter Text

The situation was surreal. He was currently flying on a dragon in the direction of Dragonstone with Davos, Eragon and Maudria. He had hesitated before agreeing to this. They didn't know Eragon that well and had never travelled on a dragon's back. However, from the few days Jon had spent with him, he had learnt to appreciate and respect the young man. Without his quick intervention, he would surely be dead. Jon refused to take part in the rumours telling that Eragon had been the one to poison him before healing him. Jon knew Eragon had already left the Weirwood by the time he had been attacked. And the Faceless Man had given more than enough reasons. Whoever had ordered this would have to answer for this crime. One more on his list.

Finally, the prospect to ride a dragon and the possibility to win a few weeks of horse travel got the better of him. Against the dead, time was the essence. He had accepted Eragon's offer and now found himself dozens of feet high, seated on a massive dragon and was held by a few strips of leather.

The landscapes were changing quickly. Saphira's wings had a very regular pace, allowing them to move fairly quickly. They certainly had no issues with the snow, which covered the vast majority of the ground. He was able to spot castles only for a few seconds every time which looked like tiny houses from above. There was also this thin line trailing in the snow like a long snake, Jon realised, was the road.

He had no clue how the dragon was directing itself in the white openness but he trusted Eragon. After a few hours, they had travelled further South than he had ever been before. But Davos continued to point at castles or landscapes and to name them. He had a lifetime of travels to share. Eragon and Maudria were also quite at ease on Saphira's back, turning and talking to them.

Eragon was asking a lot of questions and while Jon was trying to answer them to the best of his knowledge, the sudden changes of direction due to the wind was sometimes making it difficult. Thankfully, his stomach remained under control.

When the sun started to set, they looked for a place to rest. They managed to find a quiet place in the old castle of Moat Cailin. They had built a small bonfire and cooked a small stew with vegetables and meat they had brought in Saphira's saddles in one of the abandoned towers.

He noticed that Eragon and his friend didn't eat any meat. He didn't press it but found it quite unusual. Finally, after their small meal, they went to sleep in one of the most protected area. He tried to get as much sleep as he could. He still felt some tiredness from his new wound and the recent attack. While he was physically fine, he still got tired very quickly. And that was without counting his mental tiredness.

The next few days were spent in a similar fashion. They would wake up, have a quick breakfast and fly until the nightfall. Usually, they would have a break every few hours during the day, to stretch or relieve themselves.

They tried to remain high in the sky, to not be seen by farmers or travellers. The snow slowly became less apparent and would reveal muddied or broken fields

More often than not, they were above the clouds. Whenever they would get that high, Jon would simply stare and remain silent. The cold mattered little to him. Jon would forever remember the first time he saw this mesmerising sea of clouds, lazily moving. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. During these moments, he had felt at peace. Truly alone, disconnected from all his worries and troubles. Above the cloud, there was nothings. No blood, stones or steel to threaten him.

However, a small surprise came from Eragon during their travel. At some point, he turned from his position and asked them if some had a few riddles to tell. Jon didn't have many to share but Davos had plenty. The four of them were exchanging and trying to solve the riddles coming from the other region. Unfortunately for their small team, they weren't able to match their opponents' witness. Eragon and Maudria found more riddles than Davos and him.

When he briefly congratulated the two Alagaësian, Eragon merely laughed.

"I would like to take half the credit but then Saphira would be cross with me. She's the one who solved most of the riddles, she enjoys those while I'm pants at them. I guess you played more against Saphira and Maudria than me and Maudria" laughed Eragon

Jon stared blankly, not sure on how to react at the idea to play riddles with a dragon as an entertainment but he could sense a slow grumbling coming from under him

"She's merely laughing" answered Eragon at their puzzled looks.

After Moat Cailin, they slept in small clearings they managed to spot in their air. Close to a dragon, the cold wasn't such a bother and they ended up sleeping out in the open with a small blanket. He also noticed that Eragon was always the last one to sleep,

Finally, the trip continued rather peacefully and nearly a week after having left Winterfell, they spotted Bayswater. Since it was still early in the morning, they decided to cross the sea. Davos had discussed a few moments with Eragon to give him more insight on it. Finally, after a few hours above the sea they reached Dragonstone and its characteristic massive cliffs.

Before he could truly have a look at the new landscape, he saw Eragon tensing and seconds later, Saphira roared before diving to the ground at an alarming pace. They reached the ground in a loud thud. In a few seconds, Eragon and Maudria had untied Davos' and his straps, caught them and jumped from the dragon's back. Caught completely by surprise, he was powerless to do anything but to follow the move. As soon as they were off, Saphira spread her wings and took off with another powerful roar that made him wince.

Daenerys sat in the middle of a meeting with her close advisors to prepare her invasion of Westeros. She wanted to repeat Aegon's feat but things weren't going as well as she had hoped. She knew she was a foreigner, with an army of foreigners, but she was the rightful queen. She was the last Targaryen and she would take the Iron throne, which belonged to her family.

Cersei Lannister was spreading lies all across the kingdom to inspire mistrust and fear. The Mad King's daughter, that was her name here. They never called her Breaker of chains or Mother of Dragons and yet, they meant so much more! She had done this! She couldn't change who her father was but it seemed that no matter what, people would always fear her because of actions done before her birth.

So far, only a few families had rallied her cause. But it wasn't enough and she couldn't wait to see the others bend the knee.

Tyrion was detailing another plan to circle King's Landing and take the throne. She wanted to avoid any blood shell and take the city swiftly. They could try to siege the city by earth and sea, with the help of Yara Greyjoy, who had now left a few days ago, but it would be costly and would likely result in the death of thousands of innocents, something she refused to accept. Her hand had sent words to potential allies in the North but so far, no answer had been seen and it started to get to her nerves.

So far, her conquest stopped at Dragonstone. She had explored the castle, to find the place her ancestors had built, the place where she was born but what she had found had disappointed her. Baratheon sigils were everywhere and the once proud House Targaryen was completely absent except for some mighty carving. They were quick to change that but it left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

A servant had shown her the room where she was born during her first week here. She had felt a small excitation mixed with some sadness. This was also the place where her mother had died as she gave birth to her.

She would show them. Soon, with the help of her dragons and her army, the Seven Kingdoms will bend the knee and crown her. So far, three kingdoms had rallied: Dorne, the Reach and the Iron Islands while the Stormlands were almost hers.

Drogon was following her orders now and she could rely on him. So far, Rhaegal and Viserion tended to follow their brother's actions, which suited her fine. She knew of the prophecy of the three heads for the three dragons but she was completely alone at the moment, and would remain so after what the witch had done.

Without warning, they all heard a loud roar. Drogon realised Daenerys with some fear! He never roared without a good reason. Moments later, a soldier surged into the room with a panicked look on his face.

"A dragon! A blue dragon at Dragonstone!" he screamed

Daenerys blood started to boil. A dragon, here! She needed to make sure her children were safe. Ignoring Tyrion's shouts, she ran to get outside and see her dragons. She was vaguely aware of the Unsullied following her or Tyrion's quick pace to catch her.

Two minutes later, she was outside and saw something she had never expected. A blue dragon, almost as big as Drogon, fighting him. She had never expected this! Why had no one informed her of this! She couldn't afford to lose a dragon now! And she couldn't bear to lose a child now. She saw four men, standing opposite to them and also watching the fight happening. The saddles at their feet could only mean they had travelled with the dragon.

Furious, she walked in their directions surrounded by a few dozen Unsullied. She saw that their weapons weren't drawn and thus continued to step in their direction, making sure to avoid the dragons' fight. She was soon in their vicinity and quickly ordered them to stop the fight. She saw the guy in the middle raise an eyebrow and calmly answering her but she couldn't remember for her own sake the content of the discussion before Drogon's cry shifted her attention.

They had barely reached the island when Saphira smelt the dragons. Her mind shut down for a few seconds before she opened again.

"I have to prove myself Eragon, I'm going to land, take Davos and Jon with you" said Saphira rather forcefully;

He tried to protest be he was quickly shut down by his dragon.

"Let me Eragon, this is a dragon matter" said Saphira

"But …"

"She's right Eragon, you need to let this happen. If you were to stop this, Saphira could never be respected and would bring shame on her name. Surely you more than anyone else knows how much she would hate this" cut Glaedr with his calm voice and Eragon felt the truth behind the words spoken in Ancient Language.

Moments later, Saphira had landed on the outskirts of a wide plane. He quickly freed Jon from the leather strips before jumping from Saphira's back. They stood and watched as his partner took off to face what was awaiting her. He had faith in her abilities but it was the first time he would let her face some danger on her own since Dras-Leona. "For now, just stay here and make sure no one gets hurts. I suspect you will also have to offer some explanations to the dragon-girl running towards you" said Glaedr with some concern.

Indeed, Eragon could see someone running towards them, surrounded by a small garrison of guards, equipped with tall shields and long spears. The group carefully avoided the path of the dragons but with such a short distance to cover, they were on them mere seconds later. Her attention was shifting between them and the black dragon who was circling in the air, matching Saphira's pattern.

Saphira was completely focused on the dragon, intending to prove her worth

The dragons had started to spit fire and to launch at each other. So far, none had got hurt but it was dangerous to stay in the vicinity.

"Don't worry, Saphira won't kill him" tried to say Eragon seeing their worried faces

"How do you know that! And what do you mean, is this normal for you to barge and discuss while dragons fight?" asked the young woman angrily

"Your dragons form a pack and it seems the black one had assumed somewhat the leadership, am I right?"

Daenerys could only nod, her eyes fixed on the battle the dragons were giving.

"Well, our presence, and mostly Saphira's presence forces him to react. Both want and need to prove their domination."

"So, they act like wolves when a new alpha gets in town"

"Indeed"

"And how do you know no one will get killed?" asked Daenerys with some worry in her voice.

At least she cared about her dragon, that was good.

"If your dragon gets the advantage, she will submit before getting herself killed. And if she were the one to lead, I know she will never kill him but wait until he submits"

"And how do you know all of this? I never read and heard anything like this?"

"I promise I'll answer all your questions after, when the fight is over" said Eragon "Until then, I need to make sure no harms gets out of this"

"I'm Daenerys Targaryen, rightful Heir of the Seven Kingdoms, I demand you to answer my questions" started Daenerys, her purple eyes blazing.

"I'm sorry but at the moment, my dragon is kinda fighting so I'd like to make sure she won't get hurt" snapped Eragon. He had faced more intimidating leaders and wasn't going to start to obey this young woman.

Jon, Davos and Maudria stood silently behind him, observing the confrontations offered by both the dragons and Eragon and Daenerys.

"Get your dragon out of here then. This is my house. Ask your dragon to leave"

"I'm sorry to tell you that I can't" stated Eragon. She was slowly getting to his nerves

"Your grace. I know our meeting doesn't start under the best circumstances but this a dragon matter and in the short time that I've been in the vicinity of a dragon, I'd say that you don't really control a dragon. We came at the invitation of your hand and won't draw our weapons until attacked first" said Jon, talking for the first time

Daenerys huffed but a cry from her dragon caught her attention long enough to stop this conversation. And silence returned between them as the dragons continued their deadly dance. Eragon was watching the scene with rapt attention, making sure no dragon would suffer mortal wounds and keeping an eye on Saphira's thoughts.

Claws met bites and fire. The strength and power released by these two mythical creatures was simply unbelievable.

The scene taking place before their eyes was surreal. Eragon could see that Saphira was slowly winning ground over the blackdragon. While he was bigger and stronger, Saphira compensated by her speed and agility. He had suffered some wounds on his chest and was starting to tire. On the other hand, Saphira remained mostly uninjured. She had been trained and had fought her entire life while this dragon was still young and completely unexperienced.

"While her dragon is strong, he has never fought and his movements are slow and lack accuracy. You've seen it Eragon, Saphira should win this if she doesn't make any big mistake" said Glaedr to Eragon who mentally nodded.

"Stop it now or I'll have you executed" whispered Daenerys in a dangerous but worried voice. She was getting to the same conclusion as him.

Behind her, the guards reinforced their grip on their spears and shields but Eragon remained unfazed and completely focused on Saphira. He wouldn't be distracted by her when his bonded was in such a predicament. The end was close, she could feel it and so could he. And so, he decided to ignore what the young woman close to him had just said. He felt Jon making an involuntary gesture to his sword but a small gesture from his hand made him stop.

Suddenly, Saphira darted on the black and red dragon who couldn't avoid her on time. She clung on his back, with her powerful legs, taking care not to damage his wings but with enough strength to push him to land. Quickly, they pushed to the ground with Saphira still holding the black dragon tight. He struggled but wasn't able to break free of her grip. His attacks were weakening, it was clear for all to see. Saphira had the upper position and wasn't keen to lose it.

Finally, after one last struggle, the mighty and black dragon stopped his movement and remained still, breathing heavily.

"Drogon" yelled who he fought was Daenerys

So, that was the name of the dragon? Not very original thought Eragon.

But Drogon heard her scream and turned his head. Endless rows of teeth met worried purple eyes. After a few seconds, he turned his face towards Eragon and slowly bowed his head, admitting his defeat to the blue dragon and the newcomers.

Saphira released him from her grip and flew a few meters away. She stretched her wings before giving a powerful roar, making everyone wince in pain from the noise. She had won and she wanted everyone to know it. Eragon felt her pride, her strength and her love for him. She was giving a warning to all those willing to harm her and her mate.

Finally, Daenerys came back to her senses and stated

"I want some explanation, now" with a tone that wouldn't accept no for an answer.

However, before anyone could answer, two loud screeches erupted in the sky. Daenerys's dragons had felt a new leader, had felt the consequences of the events which had happened mere moments ago. Two dragons were roaming the sky and slowly descending to meet the new dragon who had dared to fight their brother.

Eragon was breath taken. Four dragons, he was seeing four dragons at the same moments! Tears were flowing on his face and his emotions were shared by many Eldunaris. Saphira's emotions were coming in waves. Dragons were surrounding her, coming to her. The last marks of loneliness in her mind, which had started to fade since Vroengard and Firnen, were now completely gone.

She couldn't restrain herself and let another powerful roar, expressing her joy, quickly answered by all three dragons.

"A thunder of dragons" whispered Eragon in awe, remembering Angela's word

"They're beautiful aren't they" said Daenerys. It seems the presence of her dragons had brought her back some confidence. Spears were still pointed in their directions but the dragons understood that the newcomers didn't mean any harm.

And truly, for Eragon, seeing four dragons was a blessing. The last time he had seen more than two dragons, they had ended up killing one. It seemed this outcome had been avoided for now.

Jon chucked before saying

"Wasn't the word I was thinking of but aye, they are. Gorgeous creatures! Tyrion, Your Grace" he finished with a little bow of his head, properly acknowledging their presence.

"They're not just creatures to me. No matter how big they get, how terrifying to everyone else, they're my children." She said with pride. "Jon Snow, right? Tyrion told me about you" she finished

What an unusual way to describe dragons. It seems she really played the whole 'mother of dragon' thing. He also tried to imagine Saphira's reaction if he were to call her "my child".

"Don't get cocky father" answered Saphira with some mirth in her voice.

Lost in his and Saphira's thoughts, Eragon hadn't seen that the conversation had stopped and Saphira's last comment made him chuckle. This, of course, turned the attention of everyone on him.

"Something funny to share perhaps. You didn't present yourself nor the rest of your companions except for Jon Snow" said Daenerys petulantly.

This made Eragon stop but his good spirit remained.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to sound rude. My name is Eragon, leader of the Cast of the Riders. And Saphira was just telling me …"

"Don't play smart with me, there's no Cast of Riders and your dragon, as smart as it is, can't talk, everyone knows it"

At her words, Eragon blanched while Saphira and all the Eldunaris went blank from the surprise.

"It seems your grace, that we have a lot to discuss"

Chapter Text

Jon and Davos had remained mostly silent during the whole fight, their eyes never leaving the two dragons. For the first time in hundreds of years, dragons had fought, head to head, not to kill, but to prove their worth.

The four dragons had remained for a few moments, judging each other before taking off. Eragon had taken a moment to look at them. Drogon, the biggest of the three, was a fierce black dragon. However, his scales had a red touch, mostly on his chest and wasn't black night like Shruikan had been. Drogon being from the Wyvern family also helped to separate him from Galbatorix's dragon.

Daenerys' two other dragons where smaller but also seemed to be in shape. Saphira would probably have a few occasions to learn about the three dragons in the coming hours or days.

Saphira wanted to find an isolated spot to tend her wounds but also wanted to remain close to Eragon to protect him if the need arose.

She quickly found a small spot close to the castle, surrounded by high cliffs. She wouldn't be bothered there and would be able to reach them quickly.

In the meantime, Jon had explained the reasons of their presence here. After an animated discussion between Tyrion Lannister and Daenerys Targaryen, they had been stripped of their weapons and had been offered bread and salt, officially sealing their rights of guests.

They were now seated in a dark room carved in the stone. The main feature of this room was the massive stone table located in the middle of the room. As Eragon got closer and took his chair, he finally understood that it wasn't a simple table but a map of Westeros! While he had seen a few maps in Winterfell or Eastwatch, he had never seen such a level of precision. Every castle was sculpted into the stone with the name of the place. The rest of the room was quite simple, with only a few wooden chairs and an opening to the sea.

Seeing Eragon's curiosity towards the table, Daenerys broke the silence "My ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror built this table to prepare his invasion of Westeros."

Her voice broke him out of his reverie. He silently nodded and had the opportunity to have a proper look at Daenerys Targaryen without the pressure of dragons fighting mere feet away. She was a stunning woman. Her pale silver-gold hair fell in soft curl on her shoulders. She wasn't very tall but she had an aura which demanded respect.

Her clothes were a great mix between practicality and elegance. It was the type of clothes that Arya could have worn. It fitted her thin frame and showed power.

Her eyes, purple, made Eragon uncomfortable. They reminded him of Elva, the little girl he had failed so long ago which was turning into a woman quicker than anyone could have predicted.

With these few words, the attention of everyone was brought back to the meeting. Maudria, Davos and Jon had followed him and were close behind. Daenerys had also brought her own advisors: Tyrion Lannister, wearing a small bronze pin on his chest and three more which remained anonymous : a young woman, close to Daenerys' age with short curly hair and dark skin who stood silently next to her queen, a bald man wearing an ample yellow tunic and a short elderly woman finished this set.

Once again, they had had to surrender their weapons before entering the castle to two emotionless soldiers who had followed them inside the castle and stood just outside the room. While he still had his magic, he was more worried for his travelling companions who were quite defenceless. In case of need, Eragon would simply jump from the room in the direction of the sea where Saphira could reach him and quickly escape the castle. That situation was to be avoided since he didn't want to depart from his sword Brisingr and the two men currently sitting at his sides.

"When my hand talked to me about Jon Snow, he told me we could find an agreement very quickly. He told me Stark were honourable people and that some even had a direwolf as pet. But tell me if I'm wrong. The Stark's sigil is a direwolf, not a dragon. And the massive creature that fought my dragon is certainly not a direwolf" said Daenerys, shooting a dark look to the imp.

"Your Grace, Tyrion Lannister didn't lie to you. One moon ago, I had never met nor seen a dragon, let alone touched one. But Eragon arrived and he came here today at my invitation" answered Jon.

"So, the North is rebelling and will try to steal my birthright?" said Daenerys with an hollow laugh

"No my Lady, that had never been the case. The North will face a war yes, but not a war against southerners. The dead are rising in the North, the Long Night is coming"

"Then who are you" asked Daenerys to Eragon, deciding to ignore Jon's comments on the war in the North while her counsellors raised a few eyebrows.

"My name is Eragon Shadeslayer, Saphira's rider and leader of the new-born Riders Cast"

"Well then Eragon Shadeslayer, why are you here? I've never read nor heard anything about Riders." said Daenerys, rising a single eyebrow.

But before any could answer, Tyrion eyed Jon "The Long Night and Riders Cast? The Wall certainly did a number on you Jon Snow. I thought that taking the black meant no land nor titles, just like Starks are known for their honour.".

Seeing the discomfort and the anger on Jon's face, Eragon decided to speak

"We're not here to lie and to question each other's claims, I believe. I would be more than willing to share some aspects of my story, just like King Jon here. You will probably have questions, which we will try to answer to the best of our capacities."

Tyrion remained silent and simply nodded but Daenerys was still eying them with suspicion. The last members who remained unknown, stayed silent, simply observing the situation unfolding in front of them.

Eragon turned his head towards Jon to tell him to start. He perceived a smirk on his lips as they knew the length of his story and the surprises it would inevitably create.

Jon's story wasn't very long. He didn't have a lengthy introduction to make. Eragon was already dreading to repeat for the third time parts of his story. While Jon explained the threat of the North, Eragon took the opportunity to talk with Saphira. Since her fight against Drogon, he had made sure she wasn't in any danger but he didn't have the opportunity to talk more with her with his attention being completely turned on Daenerys Targaryen and Dragonstone. He knew that she wasn't endangered or in great pain but he still felt better.

"Thank you little one, I'm good, don't worry" said Saphira

"That was so reckless Saphira, you could have been hurt!" exclaimed Eragon through their link "You went there without even knowing Drogon was a vaengr skulblaka". This wasn't a well-known fact in Westeros but not all the dragons were of the same species. The colour of their scales was the most obvious difference between dragons but it didn't stop here. Eragon had learnt under Oromis' tutelage that dragons were mostly separated in two categories.

Until Drogon, all the dragons he had met had been vaupna skulblaka, literally arm dragon in Ancient Language, because of their pair of forelegs, absent on Daenerys' dragons for instance. Galbatorix's first dragon, Jarnunvösk, had been a young dragon with no forelegs -also called vaengr skulblaka - while Shruikan had been a vaupna skulblaka. Thus, Galbatorix had been the only Rider to have a bond with the two species of dragons, even if bond was an insult to what Shruikan had suffered.

From what Eragon had learnt, vaengr skulblaka had the advantage of being lighter and faster while dragons like Saphira were stronger and more agile. Their scales and general morphology were also slightly different. This wasn't a well-known fact even amongst elves since most people scarcely had the time to properly observe a dragon let alone two.

"Of course not, he fought like hatchling out of the egg. He probably never faced something bigger than a horse before!"

"But you didn't know that at the beginning"

"No, but I had to. Glaedr told you, I know he did" retorqued the blue dragon

"Of course, but I was worried "

"Don't you have faith in me Eragon"

"Of course I do! it's just that I don't like seeing you fight like this. After Thorn and Shruikan, I never expected to see you fight another dragon"

"Well, now, you know how I feel when I see you getting into all sorts of troubles. But you should know this may happen more often than not with dragons coming back." said Saphira "And if you want to know, this fight, as you call it, was as dangerous as the several skirmishes I've had with Firnen. He really had no clue on how to properly fight" she added calmly.

And she was back to licking the small wounds she had collected. She had refused Eragon's help, claiming that she wanted to let them heal naturally. Sensing that his help wasn't needed and with his worries eased up, Eragon turned back his attention to Jon. The latter was done explaining the threat of the Night King and was briefly explaining Eragon's arrival a week ago. It seemed no one had seen Eragon's lack of attention, focused on Jon's story.

"This is quite a story you tell me, but why should we help you to face this threat? If memory serves me well, Torrhen Stark pledged himself to perpetuity to Aegon Targaryen. And yet, here you stand, King in the North"

Eragon was following the discussion closely, curious to learn more about Daenerys Targaryen and her policy. So far, it seemed that she had just landed in Westeros and had other plans than going in a place who just declared its independence to face a mysterious threat.

"Your Grace, the lords in the North put their trust in me. I can't let them down. While we squabble, the army of the dead gets stronger. If we continue, you will rule a land of ice and desolation."

"It takes no time to bend the knee Jon, you know this. Join us and after we swiftly defeat Cersei, we can help you to fight whatever you saw North of the Wall" said Tyrion with some kindness in his voice.

"I can't, you know this. Northerners have suffered too much in the past years and I can't break their faith by bending the knee to the Mad King's daughter, even if she claims to be better than him" answered Jon.

Daenerys was getting annoyed by Jon's behaviour, Eragon could tell. Her smile was slowly falling and instead, she turned to Eragon

"And you, have you seen this army of the dead? Or are you here to rebel, fighting and maiming my dragons, my children?" said Daenerys, anger starting to crack behind her calm appearance

"Absolutely not your grace, I'm not here to hurt your dragons. I've seen the army of the dead" answered Eragon and several pair eyebrows rose, including Jon's who hadn't known that detail. "I came here as Jon's friend and out of curiosity. My dragon was very eager to see your own dragons. And I'm sorry for her behaviour, but dragons, as I've explained to you before, fight over territories. Our arrival was a reason to start the fight for Drogon. However, correct me if I'm wrong, he has never faced another dragon;"

"Of course, he has! I have three dragons!" said Daenerys

"Sorry, you misunderstood. Your dragons never met another dragon before Saphira, right?"

"Yes, and that would be because they were considered extinct" she replied, sarcasm dripping her voice.

"I can relate to that situation. So let me assure you, Saphira and I are not a threat. Their behaviour was to be expected. And I hope my story will prove it. It should also answer some questions and will raise many more"

From what Eragon had seen and heard, Tyrion Lannister was one of the most intelligent and clever men in Westeros, with a fascination for dragons. And Daenerys seemed to be lacking some knowledge with dragons. An idea was already forming in his mind. And he knew they would have many questions to ask.

Olenna Tyrell eyed him suspiciously while Varys simply remained emotionless, listening to the conversation. They had barely spoken but with a light mental brush, he saw that their mind were already working hard to understand the consequences of the new position of the North.

"Well, we don't have much of a choice, do we?" said Daenerys

"We always have a choice and I thank you for letting me share my story. I would just enjoy if you could ask your questions at the end." replied Eragon. He figured she would enjoy these kind words.

And so, for the third time, Eragon started his story. During the following hour, he explained as much as he could from Saphira's hatching to their arrival at Winterfell. Not much was said about magic or his mental powers and he preferred to focus on the political aspects of his story. Secrecy remained important. While he could probably tell less, he preferred to be honest and forthcoming. Moreover, from what he had seen and felt, no one except for the Night King would be able to bring harm to him or Saphira so he was mostly safe.

He could see Daenerys' face loosening and getting into the story as he spoke while Tyrion looked in awe whenever he talked about Saphira. However, Varys started to get edgy when he started talking about mental powers. It was discrete, but he saw the slight movements of his hands.

Finally, Eragon was done. It got easier and easier but it still took a lot of him to tell this story. He was sure they had many questions, having seen Tyrion opening his mouth a few times before closing it with an expression of clear annoyance written on his face. With some reluctance and regret, Tyrion let his queen ask the first question.

She had a troubled face and was pondering with caution her words

"Why did you decide to leave while you had everything there? Your family, your friends, power? Why did you come to Westeros?" did she ask

"I have a duty regarding the future of Dragons. I need and I want to learn as much about them to bring them back to Alagaësia." answered Eragon. "After some careful examination, we decided that it was for the best to explore the world and try to learn as much as possible. When we reached Westeros, we heard about you and your dragons and we got curious. And regarding power, well, it would be unfair for the people. For years, they've suffered under the rule of one rider. They needed and still need someone they can relate to, someone who has been chosen because of his or her decisions, not because a dragon chose to hatch for him."

She seemed to pondering his answer and with a small gesture of her hand, let Tyrion ask his own set of questions.

"Can your dragon really communicate with us?" he asked with some awe and excitement in his voice.

Eragon knew that moment was coming, and just like in Winterfell and in Eastwatch, he let Saphira answer to Tyrion and Daenerys.

"Hello Tyrion Lannister and greetings to you all. I'm indeed able to communicate with you. Thanks for seeing us and listening to Eragon's story." Started the blue dragon in her usual deep voice. "I'm sorry for the impression I gave but I won't apologise for my behaviour against Drogon. It was necessary and a dragon matter. Drogon acted as a true dragon and fought well." She concluded

Daenerys' eyes were wide at the idea of talking to a dragon and Tyrion's restrain was now completely gone. He was bouncing with excitement and before Saphira could retreat from their mind, he was asking out loud "How do you communicate and how can you hear us? Do dragons have a good hearing?"

"Calm down" was said with some mirth. It seemed to do the trick and Tyrion was reminded of his position and situation. But Eragon knew that Saphira enjoyed being in the spotlight like this. "As Eragon mentioned before, I communicate with you through your minds. Dragons have a greater hearing than most but I can't hear you from where I am. I communicate with Eragon through his mind and I perceive what's happening around him. So, I heard your questions through him. I took the liberty to communicate with all of you to answer your questions" explained Saphira.

Another silence followed, until Tyrion simply said "Thank you for your explanations". And with those words, she retracted from Daenerys' and Tyrion's minds and went back to her activities. The Eldunaris were calm too, silently observing the meeting. So far, it was the most political meeting they've had in Westeros and every aspect had to be studied. They also kept their mind open to perceive any threat. None were threatening but Eragon felt that schemes were already being planned. He trusted the Eldunaris to keep him up to date later. He also noticed that, Varys, who had remained silent during the whole conversation, had turned white and was eyeing Eragon warily.

Many questions followed about their respective regions. Eragon learnt some more about Westeros and Slaver's Bay while Jon, Davos, Maudria and Eragon tried to satisfy the curiosity of their hosts concerning the North and Alagaësia. They kept the questions quite open and weren't too intrusive. He saw that both parties tried to remain evasive. The remaining counsellors of Daenerys had remained mostly silent during the meeting but the few words they had shared illustrated their cunningness. Olenna Tyrell certainly didn't hold her tongue, all the contrary to Varys who was very careful with his words, trying to worm his way to their secrets.

Overall, it seemed that Daenerys Targaryen had some very unique advisors, from different backgrounds and point of views. But contrary to Jon's, all were politicians, ready and able to use all the advantages they could find.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Eragon was able to talk to Daenerys without too many people around. She was alone, tending Drogon, talking to him and gently stroking his scales. Saphira had wisely decided to remain at a safe distance but was focused on the coming discussion and on the possible threat caused by Drogon.

They already had been able to have a few discussions but she had always been surrounded by advisors and most of the talking was spent on the North's position.

Daenerys had also some guards around her, who looked quite different from those present he had seen at their arrival. They looked like a southern version of the Wildings. Just as free and reckless but with less clothes on and more refined weapons. Eragon had personally never seen men with hair that long but it didn't seem to bother them.

She surely had a way to surrond herself with interesting people thought Eragon.

After a formal greeting, he asked Daenerys "How old is he?"

She seemed to be thinking for a moment before softly telling him "Four years"

"That's interesting, Saphira here is barely three years old" he replied with a big smile

"But she's stronger than my dragons, and she made it look easy"

"Our lives have never been easy and we had to fight to survive. Just like you I believe. You've mentioned before that your dragons never faced serious threats, nor received proper training, right?"

"Well, it's not like there was a dragon teacher for me," she answered hauntedly but he could see that yesterday's defeat troubled her.

The fight with Saphira may have been the first time she had been soundly defeated and she was experiencing the bitter sweat of the defeat. Eragon wisely decided not to comment on this aspect, also remembering the countless night spent sparring with Brom and the numerous bruises he had collected. He was grateful of what his father had taught him but at that time, he hadn't always been that wise.

"I told you before that our role is to protect dragons and bring them back. I talked with Saphira and we were wondering if you would like to see and learn about the difference between our dragons. I understand there's something related to your Targaryen ancestry? We could help you bond more deeply with Drogon perhaps."

She didn't respond but he saw the effects his words had on her.

Eragon also saw the small wounds on Drogon's side, where Saphira's claws had found their marks. He knew Saphira didn't want to speed up the process of healing but maybe Daenerys would appreciate the gesture. She looked afraid and uncertain after hearing his proposition

"I had a very unfortunate encounter with a with who offered to save my husband years ago, before I had my dragons. She lied to me and my unborn child died along with my dreams to raise a family" said Daenerys, her voice cracking.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." answered Eragon

"You couldn't. But I noticed that your dragon still has some wounds, don't you want to heal her?" enquired Daenerys

"She's too stubborn. She wants to let time heal these wounds, she's proud of those." laughed Eragon and she laughed with him.

"Seems I'm not the only one with obstinate dragons" concluded the young woman and he simply laughed at her statement.

Eragon slowly walked towards the black dragon who was eying him warily. Saphira was just behind them, ready to interfere in case things got dirty. Daenerys was softly whispering words to him and Eragon was now a few feet away from Drogon.

Softly, he removed his glove to show his Gedwey Ignasia and said to the dragons "I'm a rider, friend and seek to heal your wounds, "to be understood by Daenerys before switching to the ancient language.

While the gashes were impressive, they were mere scratches for dragons. Drogon eyed him before closing is eyes and letting Daenerys pet him.

"Go Eragon, this is as much approval as you will get from a wild dragon" said Umaroth

Daenerys seemed to have reached the same conclusions but kept eying him warily. With a small nod, she let him go forward and kept scratching Drogon's black scales under his neck. Eragon started singing to heal the black dragon. When Drogon felt the first effects of Eragon's magic, he growled and swiftly turned his head but Eragon was ready for it. He waited patiently as Daenerys faced him again before continuing to pet him. The spell in itself wasn't complicated. Eragon simply repaired the dragon's skin and closed the open wounds and in a matter of seconds, it was over. Eragon barely felt the drain on his energy but the effects of his spell were there.

Daenerys looked impressed and quickly thanked him. The Eldunaris were looking intently at the scene unfolding, noticing the figure of the dragon. Drogon looked in shape and was quite tall but his muscles lacked some strength, probably from the absence of proper training. Eragon felt he would receive a complete lesson on vaupna skulblaka's anatomy and biology soon.

He briefly explained to Daenerys what he did and saw some of her stress lessen. Drogon looked calm and was breathing normally now that Eragon was done.

"We didn't have the opportunity but we'd like to understand more about Targaryens. We talked to people at the Wall or in Winterfell but we're not sure about everything. Here in Westeros, your family seems to be the only one able to hatch eggs and to bond with dragons, right?"

Daenerys answered by the positive before continuing

"I could give you some insight yes, in exchange of some training. I learnt a lot by myself and with experience with my three children," she explained before talking a small break.

"Well, around two hundred years, Aegon the Conqueror with his two sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys, arrived in Dragonstone with three grown dragons. In a mere year, they quickly conquered the seven Kingdoms. For two hundred years, our family has reigned over Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms. That was until our family lost the Throne with the Rebellion led by Robert Baratheon, roughly twenty years ago" she finished with some spite.

Eragon was listening carefully, taking in everything. The Eldunaris too, were listening, trying the understand the mess that was the Targaryen family. He already knew most of what she had just said.

"At the Wall, someone told me about a Doom, is there anything related to this?" he enquired

"I guess they were talking about the Doom of Valyria. Before the conquest, the Targaryen family, contrary to most families here, lived in Valyria, a region close to Essos. This region was very active and many people lived there, along with dragons. However, for some unknown reasons, all the volcanos of the regions erupted at once, destroying the whole civilisation present there. Valyria was supposed to be a very developed region and some knowledge has been lost since that event. Fortunately, Aegon's father had a dream, which pushed our family to leave Valyria with three eggs." Explained Daenerys.

A long silence followed her statement, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Do you know anything about it?" enquired Daenerys, breaking the silence.

"I have some ideas but I'll need some time to study, a day or two at most" answered Eragon after a moment of silence

"You certainly showed that I can't force you. But I hope you will share your findings with me Eragon Shadeslayer, I have certainly helped with most if not all of your requests" retorqued Daenerys with a serious look.

"Yes your Grace. I just don't want to raise hope or sprout silly theories without some thinking," explained the young Rider.

The Eldunaris and Saphira were also curious but Eragon didn't want to expose this while talking to Daenerys. They caught some glimpses of his train of thoughts but since Eragon wasn't completely sure, it came out very blurry. With a promise to tell them later, he turned back to his conversation with Daenerys.

"Do you mount your dragon? I haven't seen any saddle," enquired the young Rider

"I've been mounting Drogon for a few months now. A Targaryen only rides one dragon. But indeed, I don't use a saddle. There's a small place where I sit on his back. Not the most comfortable but still alright. You always use a saddle?"

"Not always but my first experience has been really uncomfortable so I prefer" said Eragon, wincing at the memory of his burnt legs.

Daenerys laughed at his embarrassment. It was the first time Eragon saw her that open. She had a beautiful laugh and, in that moment, looked so carefree and innocent.

"Saphira and I would like to have a quick moment in the air, to discover the island from above, if that is okay? You are most welcome to join us if you'd like." said Eragon

Daenerys seemed to be pondering for a small moment but the prospect to fly with her dragon and get closer to Saphira seem to get the better of her. She accepted his proposition with a bright smile. Moments later, Saphira who had heard the whole conversation took a few steps and came next to Eragon.

Daenerys looked surprised but didn't comment on her quick appearance. Drogon merely raised his head but didn't move more.

The soldiers started to move around their queen to protect her but Daenerys was quick to reassure them and they resumed their previous position, looking at Saphira with some suspicion.

"Greeting Daenerys Targaryen" said Saphira

"Hello Saphira" said Daenerys in awe automatically, not fully realising, before whispering to Eragon "This is unbelievable"

Eragon simply grinned before quickly mounting Saphira who was without saddle. In three jumps, he was on her back. With a quick spell, he made his bottom comfortable and watched as Daenerys climbed Drogon. It seems both were used to this and in no time, she was up and Drogon spread his massive wings.

Moments later, both dragons were in the air, circling peacefully around Dragonstone. For once, there was no clouds and the sun was slowly warming their body.

Within moments, the two other dragons joined them and went around Saphira. They greeted her with small screeches, to which Saphira quickly answered. The four started to growl and roar, playfully. Tears started to reach Eragon's eyes. He was surrounded by four dragons. Four dragons were lazily flying, enjoying the freedom offered by the skies above the small island of Dragonstone.

"Remember Eragon, this is what we fight for" whispered Umaroth.

He would cherish that memory forever. The last time they had met more than one dragon, they ended up killing one. This time, it seems all dragons were eager to fly and to show off. Saphira, having claimed the position of leader a few days ago, was proudly showing off her skills by making incredible figures, to Eragon's misfortune. His stomach started to feel sick after this combination of rolls and he wasn't sure if the dots of colours he was seeing were the results of the dragons' scales or his sickness.

While Drogon didn't dare to follow Saphira's lead, probably because of Daenerys, the two others had no such qualms and were quick to follow her example. The next moments were a combination of dives and rolls offered by Viserion and Rhaegal. They could fly around Drogon and Saphira, usually without any real symmetry. They were a few close calls with their tails but Eragon was too engrossed in this show to truly notice and care.

At some point, Rhaegal took a deep dive towards the se before disappearing in the deep water. The calm of the sea was broken for a few seconds but no one seemed overly worried by this. A few moments later, he came back straight as an arrow, small droplets of water rolling at his side before spinning on himself. The rays of the sun came hitting all the smalls droplets and for a short moment, Rhaegal seemed to be entirely made of shinning emeralds.

The show was something unique, a gift for the eyes and the dragons were clearly enjoying it as much as their riders. This moment was theirs and Eragon wouldn't stop it for anything in the word.

Eragon could see the awe on Daenerys' face. Later, she would admit that she had already seen her dragons perform like this before but not with such joy and freedom. Clearly, they didn't consider Saphira as a threat and were quite happy to be in her presence.

Eragon also had never felt this sensation of freedom coming from Saphira. Even when they had travelled on their own after the war, she had been a bit more subdued.

"While dragons can be solitary creatures, they still learn and enjoy a lot in each other's presence" said Glaedr to Eragon privately to explain Saphira's behaviour and he was reminded that while his dragon and partner had lived a few years alone, Glaedr had lived close to a hundred years as the last free dragon.

Now, the four dragons were tightly packed, above Dragonstone, with Daenerys and Eragon a few feet apart. A thunder of dragons capsuled in the regalest kaleidoscope of colours.

Gone was the proud queen used to hid her emotions. Instead, Eragon was seeing a young woman, happy of her dragon's joy and looking at this amazing and unique show offered by four majestic creatures. Her purple eyes vibrated with such intensity and in this moment, he saw the real beauty and kindness of Daenerys Targaryen.

High in the air, Eragon and the Eldunaris could have a proper look at the three dragons. They were quick to see that the black dragon was much bigger than the other two. He didn't know if the bond between Drogon and Daenerys was the origin of this growth.

"Let's see what they're made of" said Saphira, broadcasting her thoughts to Eragon and the Eldunaris

Suddenly, she spat a gigantic blue flame in the direction of the sea, before roaring in the direction of the three dragons, eager for them to answer her provocation. The two smaller quickly answered to the challenge and started breathing fire with no hesitation. Two jets of flames reached the sky but Drogon had barely moved. However, Daenerys also understood the challenge given by Saphira.

Perched on Drogon, she looked at Eragon and, while rising a single eyebrow, said "Dracarys"

Immediately, all hell broke free from the dragon's powerful jaw. Wide and powerful flames came from his open maw, in a endless repetition, during long and hot seconds. These flames were the most powerful Eragon had ever seen. He could feel the heat from them, higher than Saphira's. He never saw Glaedr spitting fire but judging from the Eldunaris' surprise, Drogon had performed quite a feat. Saphira only hummed in contentment, pleased by what she saw.

"He fights like a hatchling but breathes fire like no other" simply commented Saphira.

After this, they continued to circle above the cliffs for a few moments before coming back to the small plain next to the castle where Daenerys and Eragon got off their dragon, Viserion and Rhaegal preferring to remain in the air.

A small group of people were watching and waiting for them : Maudria, Tyrion Lannister, Missandei and a few of Daenerys' wilder soldiers.

Eragon was pleased to see the wonder in their eyes, slowly replacing the mistrust present the days before. Drogon started to growl from Eragon's close presence but a quick bite from Saphira stopped him immediately. Daenerys had a brief concerned look but seemed to quickly understand the situation and didn't comment.

"Thank you for sharing this moment with me Daenerys Targaryen" said Eragon, bringing his hand to his lips and slightly bowing his head

"Thank you for your help and your offer Eragon Shadeslayer. I hope we will be able to do this more often" whispered the young woman.

The rest of the day went smoothly. Jon and Davos were still looking in the mines of dragonglass and were probably looking at the quantities available and the number of people they would have to send to collect the material. Daenerys on the other hand, went to settle some points with her counsellors. From what Eragon understood, her campaign to take the throne wasn't well perceived in Westeros.

He decided to stay with Saphira. He wanted to get closer to the new dragons but Saphira and the Eldunaris had deterred him from this reckless idea. Without Daenerys close, her dragons would be more dangerous and less restricted, even with Saphira being so close.

Once more, Eragon and Saphira found themselves alone, with no one to disturb them except for a few guards posted a few dozen feet away. These few moments were always a welcome change after their years spent fighting Galbatorix and his armies.

"Things are changing fast here" said Saphira

"Indeed, in a few weeks, we've discovered and seen so much, "answered Eragon, nudging himself close to her left wing and absently stroking a few scales.

But it seemed that their moment of relative peace was coming to an end

"You need to learn more about these dragons Eragon and Saphira, there's something unusual about them" said Umaroth

"Why is that Umaroth-elda." asked Saphira

"Well, you two never met wild dragons. But there's something unique about them which makes them as different from dragons bonded with Riders as humans are from elves, as you've seen with Vysia and Glaedr. However, these three act unlike any dragon we've ever seen. No dragon would obey humans like this on their own. Remember how Drogon waited for Daenerys' agreement before spitting fire?" enquired the wise dragon.

Eragon remembered the pain from Shruikan and the darkness in his eyes. Death had been a mercy for him. He couldn't imagine Saphira being caged for a week, let alone a hundred years. Both of them would become mad.

"Don't have such dark thoughts Eragon, I'm not going anywhere" she said with kindness. "Now be kind, could you scratch that spot just above my shoulders"

With a laugh, Eragon jumped on her back and quickly started to scratch the spot Saphira wanted. She let out a contented purr and stretched herself before laying still and Eragon continued talking with the Eldunaris discussion about Daenerys' dragons.

Said dragons were looking at them a hundred of feet away with some curiosity, clearly expecting another behaviour from their new leader.

For a few moments, nothing troubled the silence except for Saphira's purring. At some point, she asked him "What were you thinking of when you talked to Daenerys Eragon?"

"Noticed that? Well, I want to check on the maps of Westeros" chuckled Eragon

"You think there's a link with Alagaësia" she asked excitedly

"I don't know, this is what I want to check"

"You know, you sound more and more like an elf now Eragon. At least, dwarves are direct if not small" she added

"And with all this sleeping and purring, people will start to mistake you for an oversized cat" chuckled Eragon

Chapter Text

Rain was pouring outside, and most people were inside the castle or under one of the multiple tents that littered the surroundings of Dragonstone. Even Jon and Davos had preferred to remain inside instead of their usual exploration of the mines. Eragon knew they had gotten some results and discovered a few interesting places underground. Daenerys herself had decided to visit the mines yesterday but Eragon had decided to stay here, to discuss with the Eldunaris about the ties between Westeros, Alagaësia and the Targaryens.

They had decided to meet in one of the multiple rooms of the castle. This time, only Missandei and Tyrion were with Daenerys, but he suspected that one way or the other, Varys would know most of the coming discussion within the hour if nothing was done. Unfortunately for him, Eragon had decided to make the walls of the room completely soundproof. At least, their conversation would remain private until someone willingly share its content.

Jon was also here, at Eragon's invitation. He saw the quick and polite smile between him and the Queen. He knew they had found some dragonglass and had done a small expedition yesterday, but he had decided to stay here, to finalise some points about the discussion they were about to have. The small group sat around a small table, with some wine. The atmosphere was lighter than during their first meeting.

They all wore leathered clothes as the days started to get colder and the old castle was damp and not very isolated.

"Thank you for seeing me." started Eragon, with a small bow of his head

"Now, you said you had more questions but also some information to share" replied Tyrion

"Yes, the discovery and understanding of your dragons raises many questions and is a wonderful step for the reborn of dragons. During the past few days, I've discussed a lot with Saphira and Maudria to have a clear overview." said Eragon and he saw Daenerys slowly loosening up

"Dragons are not well documented here; it would be a pleasure to learn more about them" supplied Tyrion who seemed to share his enthusiasm. "To help the queen obviously" he added but Eragon knew he just wanted to learn more. For curiosity or to complete another agenda, they'll have to find out.

His answer was a polite smile before turning his attention to Daenerys.

"How is Drogon?" asked Eragon

"Last time I saw it, he was doing great, his wounds are completely healed" answered the young woman.

While the news was encouraging, it proved something Eragon and the others feared. Her mental connection with her dragons was close to non-existent. And yet, they seemed to follow her lead. The way Drogon had waited before spitting fire was proof of that.

They started a light discussion with a few questions regarding Alagaësia asked to Eragon, who was quite happy to answer. After a few minutes, he asked how she managed to hatch her dragons.

But her story wasn't as happy as Eragon's. Eragon was horrified to learn what she had to live and what her brother had done.

And while Eragon knew that many girls suffered similar fates in Westeros and Alagaësia, he doubted many were sold to barbarians. He was glad that she had found some love with Khal Drogo, since Drogon was a clear tribute to her late husband.

But their surprise rose higher when she explained the hatching process. Eragon was suspicious of blood and sacrificial magic. Oromis had never covered that field and he didn't know it existed or if it was something real. This was part of the stories his used to hear in Dras-Leona, close to Helgrind.

"Blood magic is something fickle and highly forbidden. Some elves, like Blödhgarm, decide to slowly transform and adapt some characteristic traits of animals. However, long ago, elves used to add one last step to their transformation: blood. But this process was dangerous and often resulted in death or permanent injuries. The last trial was done before I hatched" explained Glaedr, who had followed his thoughts. "This kind of magic has nothing to do with Helgrind. Remember that Oromis never taught you everything he knew. This is an impossible task, which requires a lifetime. Riders and Dragons must remain open and attentive to their world, now perhaps more than ever before" concluded the ancient dragon, as the others shared their approval at his explanations.

While Glaedr gave his explanation, the others had remained silent, lost in their own thoughts, and discovering Daenerys into a new light.

Moreover, they had never heard of Riders or even humans naturally fireproof.

"Would you mind showing this quickly to us" asked Eragon

She looked hesitant and confused "Why should I do this? I'm not a toy to be played with" came her answer, with some anger clearly present. "And we have yet to hear some of your so-called theories"

"I didn't mean to offend you, I'm sorry. Well, as Tyrion pointed out, information about dragons and Riders are difficult to come by, even in Alagaësia. I learnt a lot from an old Rider who recently died, and I didn't learn much from books. We would like to share, with some guarantee, some of this knowledge, but we also need to know and understand this Targaryen mystery which appear to have some ties in Alagaësia." was Eragon's reply.

Saphira, who had heard the discussion, slowly flew to the open window. No one looked afraid of her sudden appearance. Tyrion had his usual awed look and Missandei's whole attention was directed at Daenerys. Saphira looked straight at Daenerys with her blue eye, "Don't ever think of yourself as a toy. As strange as it is, you have a link with dragons. And a dragon is no one's toy. Listen, respect, but in the end, you're the one who decides" said Saphira

She slowly nodded and turned her attention back to Eragon.

"I can show you but there's no fire here"

Slowly, to prove his good intention, Eragon drew his sword which had been given back the day before. Whispering Brisingr, flames started to dance around the blade.

Except Daenerys, the rest of the room sprung back in surprise and looked at his sword with some awe. She merely lifted an eyebrow. "I guess it's a good sword for a rider"

"Yes your grace, it is. Would you mind holding it for me?"

"I guess I can do this"

And so, Eragon gave her his sword, which she caught and held between her hands. Seeing this small woman holding his sword was a sight. Seeing that same woman holding his flaming sword and being completely unfazed by it was something entirely different. Jon's eyes were wide open and his own must not have been that different.

At that moment, Daenerys Targaryen was a sight to behold.

After a few seconds, she took the handle before giving the sword back to Eragon "This is a very nice sword Eragon Shadeslayer"

She then proceeded to show her hands, completely unblemished from the heat. However, she must have underestimated the sharpness of his swords because she had a small cut on her left hand. Before Eragon could start healing her, Saphira urged him to stop

"She smells funny Eragon, ask her to come"

Flashbacks of fights against Thorn, Glaedr and Shruikan crossed her mind.

Everyone now had noticed Saphira's behaviour, including Daenerys. "Oh, is my cut the problem? I was never an issue with my children"

"Your grace, your cut is part of the problem. She would like, with your permission, to see it from closer"

"Is this another strange request related to dragons. Fine, but don't let this become a habit of you. And I won't wait more for your explanations Eragon or this is the end of our friendly partnership" said the young woman firmly.

Slowly, she walked in the direction of the dragon who stood near the opening. All the Eldunaris were watching with curiosity, intrigued by what Saphira had smelled. Saphira curiosity rose with each step the young woman took in her direction.

"She really is part dragon! She smells like one!" said Saphira once Daenerys was close enough.

"What do you mean Saphira" asked one of the Eldunaris.

"Her blood. It's got the same scent that Thorn, Shruikan or even Glaedr. This got to do something with their fire and blood thing."

"This is … unexpected to say the least. But we can't linger on this too much now, Daenerys is getting antsy and there are other things to settle" said Eragon. And with a quick thank, he allowed Daenerys to come back to her chair. She was curious about Saphira's behaviour and would probably ask for answers later. and offered to heal her wound.

She quickly accepted and they were able to see his magic operating once more. This obviously led to more questions about the range of his powers but helped to ease the tension.

But he knew he would have to offer some explanations rather quickly. They had spent the last few days talking with the Eldunaris, trying to understand the situations and see if there were flaws.

"Now, I should thank you for your help and cooperation. As mentioned before, we studied the history of Westeros and tried to find similarities with Alagaësia. We discovered a few days ago what might be some ties between both regions" started Eragon. Immediately, the room turned silent and everyone's attention turned on him.

"Is this related to what Saphira just smelt?" asked Daenerys

"You're both right and wrong Daenerys. Saphira was intrigued by something she smelt your blood. Is it related to Alagaësia? At this point, I don't know but we will certainly share with you what we'll discover" finished Eragon with a chuckle.

Indeed, Saphira was still pondering what she had smelt. Eldunaris were already pressing her but they couldn't do it right away. Their attention was needed elsewhere and Umaroth was quick to remind them of that fact.

Since she remained silent, Eragon decided to continue and to start his explanations.

"Before Galbatorix took the throne, the old Riders tried to fight him in several battles. One of them happened in Vroengard. Vroengard is an island located at the South-West of Alagaësia. This battle happened roughly 220 years ago and ended with a gigantic explosion, which still poisons the environment there. We believe that this battle might be the cause to the Doom as you call it. The force triggered by this huge explosion could have easily triggered volcanos. Moreover, the technologies you've described look very similar to the ones used there at that time." finished Eragon

Tyrion was looking intensely at the maps, trying to figure out the possible contradictions. Finally, he asked "This might be true, as the cause of the Doom remain unclear except for the sudden and unexpected waking up of eleven volcanos. But does it match geographically?"

"This has been the most difficult question to answer but we think so. The past few days, we have studied the maps and distances to see if this was possible. The directions certainly match while the distances are certainly blurrier, but they do remain acceptable. The explosion was heard hundreds of leagues away. It would explain a lot." concluded Eragon

"I need to read what Master Rickwell wrote about the Doom, it's been too long. I hope we can discuss this more later Eragon" enquired Tyrion.

"That would be very much appreciated. As I've said, this is only a theory, if you can find more items to confirm or to stop this theory, it would be a pleasure to discuss it"

The meeting continued for a few more minutes before it came to an end. Since it was still raining outside, many decided to simply go to their room to rest or in Tyrion's case, the library to find books over the Doom of Valyria.

Later that day, Eragon was slowly stretching in the room he had been offered and was talking with Saphira about the recent events. The had discussed with the Eldunaris and found many dangerous and worrying points. Glaedr's words still rang in his mind.

While doing the Rimgar, he heard someone knocking on his door. With a quick scan, he was able to sense Daenerys' presence. Extending his mind, he noticed with some surprise that she was here on her own.

He quickly opened the door and she came in quickly.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you" asked the young lady as she saw his current attire.

He was quick to reassure her and offered her to sit on the chair put next to the small desk. The chair cracked as she sat on it but held. It had clearly seen better days. He absently noticed that the braids she wore before were absent, replaced by something less formal. Arya had always let her hair loose remembered Eragon with some pain in his heart.

She looked at him straight in the eyes "I know you've been hiding something about me since your dragon smelt my blood, and I want to know what it is" she demanded, with a serious look.

Eragon had expected this to happen but had imagined it would happen a few days later, not hours.

"And how have you come to this conclusion?" enquired Eragon, sitting on his bed.

Sitting straight, he quickly whispered a few words which made it impossible for people outside the room to hear their conversation. She raised a single eyebrow but waited for his explanation.

"Well, Saphira smelt my hand and quickly left. But during a moment, you weren't there. Not lost in your thoughts but I guess talking to Saphira, you were nodding, and your eyes widened at some point" shared Daenerys

"You're both right and wrong Daenerys. Saphira discovered something while she smelt your blood. Did we hide it? Well, we told you we would tell you later and we will hold our part of the bargain. As you have seen, we don't like to make theories or share ideas if we haven't thought of them. Even now, we're not sure about this so what you'll hear will be our guesses" explained Eragon, impressed by her observations. Not many had been able to sense when he talked to others through

"You sure like to play with words"

"When you speak the Ancient Language, it becomes a second nature. Just like the most skilled politician I suppose" answered Eragon with a smile.

"And you believe there's something between with my Targaryen ancestry or with my dragons, right?"

"Yes" came his quick answer. He was disappointed by her calm demeanour and had expected more surprise and enthusiasm, which Saphira found amusing for some reason.

Since she remained silent, Eragon decided to continue and start his explanations.

"As you know, some elves came with me in Westeros. What I forgot to mention to mention is that elves, more than any other race, give a lot of attention to appearance. In Alagaësia, they're called Le Beau Peuple and take great pride in their appearance. But with magic, they're able to change their bodies. One of my friends has some wolf characteristics for instance. He has fangs and a light fur," described Eragon.

Daenerys stood still, slowly processing what she was hearing.

"So, what, last time I checked, I still have normal teeth and I'm not growing scales! And this concerns many people in my family, not just me" replied Daenerys.

"Well, yes and no. Such transformations shouldn't affect a whole line like in your case, just one person. But it shouldn't also be possible to have an unlimited resistance of fire and yet, here you are. However, it's possible, but also very dangerous, to change your blood. We believe, one of your ancestors did something like this, and tried to get some dragon characteristic's, which is pure madness." said Eragon, not completely believing it as he said it out loud.

"And why would you believe that?" asked Daenerys

"Well, several things. First, I heard Targaryen often married into their own family, yes?" quick nod from Daenerys "And so, the ritual done to your ancestor's blood wouldn't be diluted and would remain strong. Also, this may explain the bouts of madness in your family. Dragons are wild and free creatures. Chaining a dragon would slowly drive him mad. I believe the same would be said about the members of your family. None can be properly chained and need to express itself, one way or the other. Power, art, science, but they shouldn't be forced in a position they can't fit I guess"

"So, what?" cut Daenerys "Does that mean I can only be a bookworm for instance if my blood says so" she asked angrily

"You misunderstood me Daenerys. It means that you should go where your guts tell you to. This is something I've learnt and still learn with Saphira. Dragons don't ask permission. Therefore, Saphira has very few regrets but some remorse. And I think that if you take a close look at your family's history, you may find that this coin flip isn't exactly right and that it may have struck those forced into a position they weren't fit. I've heard from Jon that the Master of Castle Black was the kindest soul he had ever met. He could have been King, but he went where he wanted to and from what I've heard, his work was appreciated. Of course, there could also be some inbreeding," explained Eragon

"So, you think I shouldn't be queen?" exclaimed Daenerys

"I haven't said that! I don't know the history of your family very well. But from the little I know, one of them was a great Maester, appreciated by all. Aegon the Conqueror is at the origin of what is today, the greatest conquest of Westeros. I'm sure there are also some example of great kings and queens. But these people decided with their heart, no one told them what they should do, and I think, blood magic or not, that you should do the same. The question here is, do you want to be Queen because you want it, you feel you can help the others or do you want to be Queen because your brother told you so? From my own experience, no matter the position, it's not worth to be put there if we don't want it;"

"You have a very unusual point of view Eragon Shadeslayer" whispered Daenerys with a thoughtful look, anger slowly leaving her face.

Silence returned in the room for a few seconds before Eragon decided to finish his explanations

"Finally, and most importantly, this could explain why only Targaryens are able to hatch eggs in Westeros. Eggs from wild dragons can only hatch when close to another dragon, fire and when the time is right. Dragon can wait decades in their eggs if they don't feel the right connection or if the nesting dragon is unwell. Hatching have a unique sensation of their surroundings that we can't even start to imagine. I think this means your title of Mother of Dragons is rightfully earned. They really perceive you as part dragon. Fire and Blood, these are the words of your family and they take a whole new meaning here," concluded Eragon with a serious look.

Daenerys looked fascinated by what she had just heard. She didn't know all the theories behind magic but what she heard made sense. Instinctively, her head turned toward the small window in Eragon's room, but her dragons weren't there to be seen.

Eragon had discussed a lot of this with the dragons and Saphira and while they weren't completely sure about this, this idea fit. Magic wasn't an exact science; it was always full of surprises. Also, no one imagined that humans would dare to dabble in blood transformation, let alone with dragons.

And if the history of the Targaryen family was any indication, Eragon started to understand why this practice had been banned.

Daenerys looked deep in thoughts, probably pondering what she had just learnt.

"And your magic? Is it something I can get?" she asked suddenly with some eagerness

"I'm not completely sure. Usually, with dragons bonded with Riders, such as Saphira with me, there's a strong connection, something deeper than what you seem to share with your dragons, I think. My body is marked by this bond" answered Eragon, showing his Gedwey Ignasia on his hand. "Perhaps you'll have some affinity with magic, I don't know. I believe the most important part is to cement the bond between you and your dragons. I heard they sometimes disobeyed you" whispered quietly Eragon.

At this, Daenerys looked ashamed and looked down. It was strange. Outside of the room, she was a leader, someone people admired and looked upon. She maintained this aura and kept her allies under firm control. However, when Eragon and Daenerys were alone, be it in a room or in the skies, she stood as a young woman, eager to change to world but also lost on how to do it.

Nasuada had been the same. She never let her tiredness, nor her anxiety be seen in public. But Eragon remembered the long nights, spent together with sometimes Arya or Jörmundur, where they had discussed strategies or talked about the future, how her face would fall, and her worries become apparent.

"There have been some issues with my dragons before yes" she said, still not meeting his eyes. "Drogon burnt and killed a young child in Meereen and people were afraid of them. I … I chained Viserion and Rhaegal during months, and Drogon escaped. During that period, I was the Mother of Dragons, but I didn't have any dragon" finished Daenerys in a mere whisper, her voice shacking.

So many emotions conflicted inside Eragon. The idea to chain and lock dragons angered him and outraged Saphira. But at this moment, in front of such vulnerability, he knew she understood and saw how deeply this action had hurt her.

"This child in Meereen will be forever remembered. And we will work together to make sure no family in Westeros will suffer anything like this." promised Eragon, before adding silently to Saphira "We cannot afford to have three wild dragons living that close. How did the Riders of old manage to protect the populations?"

"You answered it Eragon. They lived far from all the cities, in the Hadarac desert or in the Spine for instance and we manage to roughly communicate to prevent any outburst" answered Umaroth.

"I'd like that" whispered Daenerys in a whisper, her eyes shining at the prospect of finally having her child under control.

Chapter Text

Eragon sighed. He never expected things to go like this. He hadn't built a single facility but he already had a student, looking to understand her dragon. Or dragons, as in plural. Saphira was right, he was a magnet for troubles.

Later, Eragon, Daenerys and Tyrion were outside, close to Drogon and Saphira. The rays of sun had motivated them to go outside and to start their training. Jon and Davos were back in the old mines, concluding the business they had to make there, A few of Daenerys's guards were with them. She had recently allowed the young King the use of the mines, a decision which had been greatly appreciated by the Northerner.

Tyrion had decided to join his Queen, which bothered a bit Eragon. But since the knowledge he would pass on today wouldn't be dangerous nor private, he saw no point to isolate him. He remembered how Orik's or Arya's presence could help him. Or distract him commented Saphira with a laugh.

Facing them, he put on his most serious face "Today and in the coming days, you will learn to bond and understand your companion, your dragon "started Eragon

"This bond that you have is unique, irreplaceable. Just like with a friend, a companion or a lover, it takes times and hurdles. This is not an easy road. Your case is also slightly different, since you have three dragons but you seem more closely bonded with Drogon." Continued Eragon, sensing her purple eyes focused on him. In Alagaësia, dragons only hatch when they feel a connection to the one holding their egg and can remain in their shell almost forever. But when they do, it sparks. In Westeros, it seems this hatching process is different, for the reasons I've explained to you before. And thus, this bond isn't initiated,"

"We will slowly help you to build this connection, to get closer to your dragons. Saphira and I will try to help you to the best of our knowledge. But make no mistake, a dragon is not a tool."

"Of course, I know this" interrupted Daenerys angrily

"I certainly hope you do. The day a dragon becomes nothing more than a weapon and a tool is a sad day, and I will most immediately try to stop whoever is doing this" finished Eragon coldly.

The threat wasn't lost on them.

"So, what do we do now" asked Daenerys in a controlled voice

"Drogon will go with Saphira while I'll remain with you," started Eragon

"A plot to separate and isolate the Queen from her dragon? "enquired Tyrion

"You're looking at this with mistrust and fear in your minds. We most certainly are not looking to overthrow or harm Daenerys and her dragons. Dragons just have secrets that even I am not privy too. And by being on your own, you'll be less distracted from Saphira and Drogon's interactions. They will certainly only go to the other side of the castle"

Getting no reaction from them, he gave a mental nod to Saphira who nudged Drogon before spreading her wings. Roaring, Drogon was quick to follow her and they quickly disappeared on the other side of the castle, near the cliffs that they reached very quickly.

After a few seconds spent in silence, Eragon turned back and faced Tyrion and Daenerys

"Shall we begin now" asked the young woman, impatience clear to see.

Tyrion almost just as eager as Daenerys although he wasn't the one with dragons and Eragon had to hid a smile at their enthusiasm.

For the next hours, Eragon guided and taught his first students. He explained in depth the mind and its operating. A small part of his mind was always directed towards Saphira and her lesson with Drogon. At the moment, her mind was mostly closed, which indicated that she dealing with information not meant to be shared. He wasn't overly worried and knew she was more than able to defend herself but he still felt better when he could completely feel her. It felt like part of him was missing.

Daenerys and Tyrion, oblivious to Eragon's small inconvenience, were slowly guided and brought in a relaxing state before Eragon tried to communicate with them through their mind. He would come in slowly and try to start simple conversations with them.

Indeed, he wasn't keen to link Daenerys and Drogon's mind if the former couldn't control her thoughts.

He was advancing in the unknown and the Eldunaris had little help to offer. All the Riders had already a deep bond with their dragons when they went to Vroengard to be taught and no one had taught human beginners who weren't Riders. He was trying to emulate something from the lessons he had received from Brom and Oromis.

After a few trials, Tyrion had yet to make a complete conversation. His mind was in constant turmoil, asking questions, taking notes, making suggestions … He was unable to bring one single thought to the front of his mind yet. And contrary to her Hand, Daenerys had not such issues. She was quick to force one thought at the forefront on her mind. It didn't offer very complex conversation but it was a great start nevertheless. Her mind had a unique melody, something ancient, powerful but also untamed. A mixture of dragon and human. This was all the confirmation they needed to confirm their theory regarding blood transformation.

After one last successful attempt with Daenerys which ended up with her trying to describe her last meal, a light breakfast made of fruits and bread, Eragon felt that Saphira was done with Drogon and that both dragons were coming back.

"Saphira is coming back with Drogon so we will have to put an end to today's lesson. "said Eragon to his two pupils who were sitting on a bunch of rocks. Their lack of surprise at his statement illustrated their quick and strong adaptability.

"I can say you both made great progress. You can continue to train on your own to structure your mind. Additionally, while I understand and share your love and admiration towards dragons, some knowledge can't be spread. We will soon be looking for an oath in Ancient Language from both of you. Should you refuse, we will remain to safe but also very basic topics." concluded Eragon.

But Daenerys understood what it meant for her. "So, you mean that to help me with my dragons, I'll have to swear something in a language I don't understand?" she asked angrily

"The situation here is exceptional. Westeros is on the verge of collapse with all the previous wars and the threat of the dead. I'm also in an unknown place, with some dangerous knowledge. I won't share It lightly; it would be too dangerous. I'm more than willing to explain in detail every step or the vow but I won't start to explain the rules of magic and let it spill all over the place, without any form of control"

She huffed but didn't comment further. Tyrion bore a thoughtful expression.

"If you will excuse us for a few moments" said the dwarf

He then took a few steps back along with Daenerys. They were quietly exchanging, but that didn't matter a lot to Eragon. With his enhanced senses, he was able to follow the conversation, not that he would tell them. They were hesitating, pondering their next moves. They didn't fully trust him but couldn't deny the control and connection he had with Saphira.

During Tyrion and Daenerys small meeting, Saphira and Drogon returned and were laying close. Rhaegal and Viserion were there too, curious and roaring playfully at Saphira who enjoyed the attention she was receiving. They hadn't been included in the first lesson with Saphira. Having to deal with one dragon was already quite a task in itself, especially on a first time. With the exception of a small glance, Daenerys and Tyrion hadn't really acknowledged the presence of the dragons, proof of their fear of the oath and their ease around dragons.

As they talked, Eragon heard and saw Jon and Davos coming back from the mines, where they had spent the past few hours. Probably bothered by the head in the mines, Jon, had removed most of his furs and was holding them with his right hand. Their faces were grimed by the soot and they stood at the edge of the plain, still, looking at the dragons, probably wondering if they could cross or if they would have to wait the departure of the mighty creatures.

And just like Eragon, the dragons had felt the intrusion. From what they had observed, the three dragons would interact just like wild dragons, and avoid interactions with humans as much as possible if they weren't threatened or hungry, Daenerys being the single exception. Eragon had yet to approach them close without the young woman.

Drogon was still lying, with Saphira close to him. He jerked his head but remained still. Rhaegal and Viserion however looked at the newcomers with more excitement. Eragon felt Saphira perk up and ready herself. She let a soft growl, which got the attention of both Daenerys and her two dragons. Viserion immediately stopped and turned in the opposite direction, towards the black dragon.

However, the green dragon wasn't done yet. Ignoring Saphira's menacing hiss, he spread his green wings and took off.

Saphira didn't lose a second and was in the air moments later. In the meantime, Eragon was running in the direction of Jon and Davos. Their presence had triggered something in Rhaegal and there was no indication about his intentions. Tyrion and Daenerys were looking around, panic in present in their eyes but there was nothing they could do except watch.

"I'm on Rhaegal, protect Jon and Davos," said Saphira through their link.

Saphira was now matching the green dragon. The noise made by these two flying so close to the ground was deafening. Earth and grass were flying on the passage of the two dragons. Eragon was hot on their heels, avoiding the bits of mud flying. Rhaegal had been the first to depart but Saphira had been ready to chase him and had wider wings and managed to fill the small delay. With a quick bite and a push from her legs, Saphira managed to unbalance the smaller dragon. and to get in a better position to reach Jon and Davos who had remained frozen in place, paralyzed by the vision of two dragons flying straight on them.

Saphira stopped abruptly in front of them, protecting the two men with her large figure. Both men stumbled from the shock and started to take a few steps back to avoid her large tail which could easily puncture them. Eragon was on them moment later. Daenerys had remained next to Drogon, powerless. Her cries to stop Rhaegal were completely ignored. Rhaegal had stabilised after Saphira's shoving and was staring at the blue dragon, who didn't move an inch, protecting the three.

"Get behind me" whispered Eragon to Jon and Davos. Thankfully, both men had snapped out of their slumber and were quickly moving to get to safety. Rhaegal's eyes were looked on them but Saphira's presence seemed to deter him. Drogon's sound defeat was still fresh in their mind.

"Eragon, Jon's bleeding. And, he smells like Daenerys" told him Saphira still turning her back on them and facing Rhaegal.

He froze in place, not expecting this. Glaedr sensed his confusion and was quick to bring him to his senses.

"You need to bring the two to safety, you will have enough time

Slowly, they made their way back to the castle. Saphira moved alongside them, always staying between Jon and Rhaegal; After a while, he seemed to understand that he wouldn't get what he wanted and simply turned back before flying in the direction of the sea.

They were back in the castle, trying to understand this new problem. Daenerys, Tyrion, Jon, Davos and Eragon were all around a table, mindlessly drinking some wine.

No one had said anything since Eragon and Saphira had rescued Jon and Davos from Rhaegal. The dragon hadn't made any attempt to stop them. He had simply watched the three men walk away. His eyes had never left Jon but he had stayed still under Saphira's careful surveillance.

Daenerys had a haunted look, probably resulting from her lack of control on Rhaegal. Tyrion wore a pensive look while Davos and Jon were staring into space while gulping large glasses of wine for the latter. Having a dragon charging at you at such a close distance always made an effect, the first times at least.

The young woman brought her glass back to the table before addressing Jon and Davos

"I would like to apologise for the behaviour of my dragon. While we certainly don't agree on certain points, you've been invited under the right of guest and haven't cause trouble. I can only say that this is the first time and will try with Eragon to make sure it doesn't happen in the future" she said, looking at them, straight in the eyes

"I understand that you're probably not behind this attack. But I'll need more than words as a guarantee. I know you but the North doesn't. The North won't take it kindly if I'm killed by one the Mad King's daughter's dragon," finished Jon darkly

There was nothing Daenerys could say to that. He was right and she knew it.

Eragon remained silent, not sure on how to react. Jon Snow had mentioned being a bastard during their trip to Dragonstone and he had felt how deeply that wound ran. Why did he have Targaryen blood?

"Saphira will remain alert and try to talk, or whatever the dragon equivalent is, with Rhaegal. She'll be there to protect you until we know what happened" concluded Eragon

The meeting ended quickly, each returning to their own room. But Eragon couldn't forget Saphira's warning. He didn't doubt her, her smell was probably the most developed and precise of all.

"You should tell him Eragon, you, more than anyone else, knows how it feels to have uncertainties about your parents" said Saphira gently.

"I know, but who could be his mother? Is he half-brother with Daenerys? You've seen how close they are" said Eragon

"Another reason then, they should be aware of this" concluded Saphira

"Help me, will you" asked Eragon

"Always little one" came her soft answer

Resolute, Eragon left his room and took the direction of Jon's situated left to his own. He knocked softly on the wooden room and waited for an answer. Seconds later, the door unlocked and opened. Letting Jon looked surprised to see him.

"Can I come in? I've discovered a few things that I think you'd like to hear" asked Eragon

With a small gesture, he let him and closed the door behind him. His room looked identical to Eragon's. Jon invited Eragon to sit on the chair present in the room while he sat on his bed. He removed the furs and brought next on the bed, a small action which bought him a few seconds to scan his surroundings.

Eragon was surprised to feel someone close to their room. Varys it seemed, was trying to learn more about them. It wouldn't be an issue. He quickly whispered a few words in Ancient Language to protect their conversation. Jon looked surprised but didn't comment.

"I just made sure no one will be able to overhear our conversation" explained Eragon

Jon merely nodded. He was a man of few words thought Eragon.

"I have several things I need to tell you. I know you probably will feel some anger, mistrust or confusion and all I'll ask is for you to let me fully explain my reasons. The first point, is that I was able to question the Faceless Man after you. He told me a few things. You were one of his targets,"

"I gather someone else was targeted" enquired Jon

"You are right. Sansa was also targeted, by Cersei Lannister," started Eragon.

Jon's eyes bulged and at that moment, he looked murderous.

"You knew Sansa was in danger and you said nothing," whispered Jon in a dangerous tone.

"I did. But I also made sure to protect her since that moment" answered Eragon

"And how do you expect to protect her hundreds of leagues away? In case you didn't notice, that man was skilled and resourceful" retorqued Jon with some fury. "I almost died there and I'm a fighter! Sansa, while not an innocent girl, is certainly not a fighter!"

"For your information, your sister is not defenceless. She always has guards protecting her. But Gaerdin, who stayed at Winterfell, will also protect her. He's as skilled as I am, if not more and I trust him. More companions will also arrive in the coming days and will protect her discretely." said Eragon

"I still believe I could have done more to protect her" answered the northerner more calmly

"It would have been useless. You know as I do that no one but me or my friends could have saved you in Winterfell, and I'm not being vain. You wanted to see Daenerys and I made sure the trip would be safe both for you and your sister" concluded Eragon.

"Perhaps you're right but I won't feel at ease until after we're back, I guess. I'm also disappointed you didn't share with me what you knew" said Jon.

"You know as much as I do the value of information. I really appreciate your help but you know that sharing all my knowledge would be suicide" completed Eragon.

After a short silence between them, Jon asked "Was there something else you wanted to tell me Eragon"

"There is yes. Could you show me your hands please?" asked Eragon.

"My hands?" repeated Jon with some curiosity

Eragon nodded and Jon removed the gloves on his hands. They were callous and his left hand was without scratches, contrary to his right one where the lines of small cuts could be seen on the inside of his palm.

"Where did you get this cut?" enquired Eragon, already knowing the day just got more difficult.

Chapter Text

"Where did you get this cut?" enquired Eragon, already knowing the day just got more difficult.

"This?" said Jon pointing to a small wound in the inside of his palm. "A sharp stone in the mine, but no harm done, it doesn't even hurt. Why do you ask?"

"I thought we were done with surprises" groaned Eragon to Saphira.

"With how much trouble you attract, I'd be worried if we had a week without incident" mocked Saphira. She was following the conversation while keeping an eye on Rhaegal, who seemed to be acting as usual.

"Do you remember when Saphira asked to smell Daenerys Targaryen?" asked Eragon

"Well yes" he said, a frown starting to appear on his face.

"Saphira smelt something unique in her blood, something akin to what she smelt in Drogon's blood or in other dragon's blood." said Eragon.

"I guess this is normal? Humans don't smell like horses for instance but their blood is the same" chuckled Jon

"You're right, but Saphira has a unique smell. Remember Jon, we've been at war too, and we've seen and in case of Saphira smelt, thousands of people bleeding to death. We've seen the wounded in Winterfell after the battle of the Bastards. But never before has she ever smelt something like you or Daenerys." explained Eragon

He saw Jon slowly tensing

"Like me?" he repeated slowly.

"Like you indeed." Answered Eragon.

A long silence followed this small declaration. Jon seemed to be lost in thoughts.

"So, what does that mean?" asked Jon, breaking the silence.

"After some long discussions with Daenerys and Saphira, I believe, and Rhaegal behaviour points this way too, that somehow, you're related to the Targaryen family" said Eragon, trying to deliver the news as calmly as possible.

Jon stood silent for a few moments, his face betraying nothing of what he was feeling.

"That's impossible" said Jon, his voice barely a whisper

"I'm not trying to hurt you or lie but … I'm familiar with the idea to have unknown parents, to live through lies and to discover that people you cared about didn't tell you everything." said Eragon

A wave of remorse, pain and love came from Saphira. This was still a sore subject between them and although he had forgiven almost immediately, it still wasn't something they talked a lot.

"I'm not mad at you Saphira, I understand you were under an oath, really" said Eragon with a half-smile. "I just wish I had known earlier. Perhaps have the opportunity to talk to Brom. But I've made my peace" finished Eragon before turning his attention to Jon, who had started talking again, emerging from his

"It's more complicated. If what you say is true, then my father must have met a woman with Targaryen blood, roughly twenty years ago. But Eragon, the only female Targaryens alive at that time was Daenerys" started Jon, his voice starting to crack

"I'm sorry I didn't know. Well, maybe our initial assumptions are wrong. Maybe Saphira doesn't exactly smell Targaryen lineage. We haven't smelt each Westerosi nor asked them to bleed" laughed Eragon; "Or it could be a bastard Targaryen, who may not be aware of his own lineage, I don't know enough about their history to evaluate this possibility. But we felt you deserved to know this" concluded Eragon

"Who knows about this?" asked Jon suddenly

"So far, I've only told one person and it's you. And Saphira obviously"

"I need to think about it" said Jon, who had risen from his chair. "And if that's possible, that you don't spread this idea. People are still uneasy with the Targaryen family in Westeros, especially in the North. I don't want to complicate things, especially if it's proven wrong later." Whispered Jon.

"Of course, I will let you and respect your wish. I'm sorry about this" said Eragon. Without waiting for an answer, he quickly and quietly cancelled his spell and turned back towards his room. As he was crossing the door, he heard Jon.

"Thank you Eragon, for telling me"

He turned and nodded before going back to his room. However, before he managed to reach his door, he noticed Varys lurking in the shadows. He decided to go talking with the bald man. As he got closer, he felt the complex perfume of the man. A mix of subtle flagrancies. It was quite a change from what Eragon was used to. But Varys also looked quite different from most men Eragon had met. His lavish tunics were proof of that.

"Eragon" started Varys, his voice soft.

"Varys, good evening "

"The dragons gave us quite a scare this afternoon, luckily, you were here to save Jon Snow and Ser Davos, once more" said Varys with knowing eyes.

Eragon had to admit, he was skilled. This man had spies even in Winterfell and could get information quickly. He brushed his mind and was astonished by what he discovered.

Dozens of children, all over the country, sending messages regularly to Varys. Only Saphira's speed and the harsh inhospitality of the Wall had allowed them to surprise Varys. He had received news of Jon and their arrival at Winterfell only a few days after their first meeting with Daenerys Targaryen.

"Yes, a true blessing. But my role was minimal, Saphira was the one to protect them," answered Eragon without missing a beat.

"Of course. I guess the King in the North still feels … uneasy about this whole ordeal. But do you have any explanation behind this dragon's behaviour" he enquired calmly.

"The only explanation I have right now is that Rhaegal wanted to test Saphira's authority." lied Eragon smoothly. "Drogon tried to fight her and lost. Rhaegal now also lost. Maybe Viserion will try his chance later, one way or another to undermine Saphira's authority before ultimately settling. But they've been taught properly, they shouldn't hurt humans, Daenerys made sure of that."

"Of course. Some people always have trouble accepting new leaders. People coming in, breaking the order in place. Chaos is everywhere, but no one can rule it. No one is a God here." whispered Varys,

"You're right. She will have to make sure it doesn't happen anymore. "came his mechanical answer.

He merely nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. Varys wasn't just a good spy. He was a chess player. A strategist. Someone who saw ahead of battles. He would probably be useless to prepare a battle, but at least half a dozen plans would be planned, each based on a different outcome of said battle.

And Eragon would have to figure out his purpose. It wasn't the throne, for Westeros was locked in a rulership based on power and money, of which Varys lacked. Information could only bring him to a certain point. He had claimed his wish to protect people but he wouldn't trust his words. He would have to sneak into his mind, quietly.

"Why do you follow Daenerys Targaryen?" suddenly asked Eragon

"She's the best hope for the people here in Westeros" answered Varys

"You've told us that before. But if it was that easy, why aren't people flocking at her side? Surely, they all want the best for their family."

"They are afraid of her while I'm not" came his short and mysterious answer

He waited for a few seconds, in the hope of getting more information. His frustration grew when he felt a feeling of understanding coming from Saphira and the Eldunaris. However, before they had the time to explain, Varys started talking again, having probably guessed that he needed to develop her explanation.

"For most people, a ruler means nothing and anything. They don't care who stands on the throne as long as they can feed their family. They've only known this kind of ruling. And now, the only news they have are those shared by said ruler. And when a stranger comes, followed by barbarians, and wants to change everything they've known, they become afraid. This is what's happening here. People are afraid, and the rulers in place are just spreading the right amount of rumours to stop the invasion. Even the North is afraid of Daenerys. This is also why I'm here. To know the rumours and to spread the ideals imagined by Daenerys Targaryen, the real ones, not those created by Cersei Lannister."

Eragon remembered the angry looks he had received during the military campaigns led by the Vardens. They hadn't always encountered grateful welcomes. Many nobles had followed Galbatorix without the need to swear an oath.

But they had also come across a few farms and encountered some farmers, whose fields were sometimes ruined after the crossing of thousands of soldiers. He couldn't forget their stares, a mix of despair, sadness, indignation and hopelessness. And deep down, Eragon knew that most of them couldn't care less who sat on the throne.

"While this is true, it doesn't explain why you left. You had everything you could have hoped"

"Don't insult our intelligence by saying this. We both know how wrong this statement is even though you're not from here."

And Eragon understood, that under these ample tunics and this false good nature, Varys was a ruthless politician. While Daenerys had the manpower to take the throne, Varys was probably the most suited to make people agree or rebel against the king or the queen, probably without them being aware of it. This probably made him one of the most dangerous man. The fact that he had knowledge of the dirty secrets of lords living all over the country only made him more dangerous. In Westeros at least.

For a short moment, Eragon felt like he was talking to Galbatorix, with his soft voice, his sweet ideas and his deep knowledge.

But that wasn't the case. He was talking to a mocking copy. A dangerous copy, but he was nothing compared to the Usurper. Galbatorix had refined his enthralling speech during decades and had had the power to tear through minds to find the very essence of your being without battling a sweat. He had been able to control and to kill Glaedr who was in Gil'Ead while remaining in Urû'baen, hundreds of leagues away. It was still a very sore subject for them and they scarcely talked about it even today.

"Of course. If you will excuse me, the day has been tiring and I'd like to rest" asked Eragon.

Varys merely inclined his head before turning his back and leaving, as silently as he had arrived.

Within a few seconds, he was back into his room. He would need to review everything with the Eldunaris, to understand what was happening. His discussion with Varys had been very complex, full of meanings. He already felt tired, being thrown in the middle of Westeros' politics. Jon's talk had been different, more direct but just as confusing. He didn't fully believe what he had explained to Jon. The smell of their blood was the key to their questions. He would have to be careful because he didn't fully understand how sensitive the Targaryen matter was here.

But it brought the question of who his mother was. Everything seemed to point that Jon's father, Eddard Stark, had found, per chance or not, a Targaryen bastard and had a child with her.

"Does it really matter?" enquired Glaedr

"What do you mean?" replied Eragon

"Jon Snow seems to have Targaryen ancestry. This is certainly something that needs further enquiry. But it's of no use to look at the moment who his ancestors are. It would only bring a loss of time. We don't even know who his father is"

"Are you doubting his words Glaedr-elda?" questioned Eragon

"I'm not. But finding his true family is sometimes more difficult, as you certainly know. Even with the Ancient Language, your eyes have been troubled for a long period" answered the old dragon

"You've seen how much it matters to him."

"He's lived without it for many years, he can live with it more. And it's not your purpose here Eragon, don't forget it."

But Eragon was unable to answer the old dragon, just able to send a feeling of agreement, because someone had decided to come knocking at his door. He supressed a groan. He had sensed and heard Missandei walking in the corridor but he had hoped that she was just passing by. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and Missandei probably knew he was in his room. He couldn't refuse her entrance without offending her and his hosts.

"Next time, I'll sleep with you. At least, no one will dare to disturb me" told Eragon to Saphira while he moved to open the door.

Indeed, standing in from of the door, was Missandei. She was wearing her usual clothes, made of leather, which clung to her forms. But her face betrayed nothing. Missandei's impassive face scarcely betrayed her internal turmoil. But Eragon could read the small signs highlighting it. And he sensed her mind, in a small frenzy. It was a small miracle that she was able to hold on that much. Just like Nasuada, she knew how to handle herself and play politics, even if this case, she seemed to be doing it for someone else.

"I hope I'm not disturbing" started Missandei

"Of course not, come in" answered Eragon, pointing to the chair in his room.

She accepted his offer and went to sit there. She eyed him for a moment, as he closed the door and went to sit on his bed.

After a few moments of tense silence, she broke the silence.

"The past few days have been quite eventful. Tales of dead, dragons proving their worth and people fighting. We are living unusual times Eragon Shadeslayer."

"That we are Missandei." he replied before making a small pause. "But I don't think you came here to discuss the unusual times we're living, or at least, not to comment the dragons' recent behaviour."

"You're direct, unlike most of the people here. Our Queen has certainly been thinking a lot about what you've told her."

"Oh, over what mostly" asked Eragon, curious about her answer.

"She's mostly looking for information related to her family. She hasn't shared more with me, and even if she had, I wouldn't betray her confidence like that" came the short but polite reply.

"Of course. This wasn't my purpose."

"Her dragons behave differently. She looks at them with a new look too," commented Missandei.

"The change of behaviour of her dragons was to be expected with the arrival of Saphira and the change of power which occurred. Concerning Daenerys, well, the relation someone shares with a dragon who hatched for him or her in Daenerys' case, is unique, and she knows it. The title Mother of Dragons she has is proof enough of that. But perhaps she wasn't completely aware of some responsibilities. No one should have to follow Daenerys, ordered like a slave, not even her dragons."

Missandei stopped in tracks. Her eyes grew very distant and cold.

"Our Queen is the last person who could enforce such a treatment. We follow her, not because we were forced to but because we chose to. She didn't give herself the title of Breaker of chains. We did. Daenerys freed us and this is why she's my queen, the one I pledge myself to

Eragon was surprised by this small outburst. He had never seen Missandei being so passionate. From what he had seen, she usually remained in the background, helping to the best of her capacities diligently.

"Daenerys Targaryen saved us. Freedom wasn't offered to us until she came. She gave us the tools and the means to freed ourselves. She didn't force it. She gave us the choice, our first choice. The easiest and most important one. The right to live our lives." Finished the coloured woman.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know and didn't mean to hurt your feeling or to undermine Daenerys' work. But she, just like you and I, needs to understand the impact of her decisions, The differences between people is the range of their decisions. And Daenerys' decisions could definitely impact the lives of thousands of people. She seems to have done well in Essos. I'm just trying to make sure she'll do the same with her dragons in Westeros" tried to explain Eragon.

Missandei remained silent but the indignation in her face softened and she looked thoughtful.

"What do you think Saphira?"

"She spoke openly. She's devoted to Daenerys and her mind didn't betray any ill intentions, contrary to Varys." Replied the blue dragon softly

"Why are you helping her then if you're afraid of her decisions?" enquired Missandei

"These three dragons decided to hatch for her. No one can force a dragon, so they must have sensed something. Something great within her. But they gave her powerful tools too, just like when Saphira hatched for me. I'm helping her, just like we helped me, to understand her dragons and to make sure she won't do something she will dearly regret," answered Eragon.z

There was a short silence in the room, only broken by the sound of the wind. The night had settled and the room was quickly becoming chillier, not that Eragon minded. Wordlessly, he rose and walked in the direction of his small study. Missandei followed his steps but didn't comment more.

With a whispered "Brisingr", he lit up a few candles.

"I may not be able to walk through the flames like Daenerys but I can warm up the night with a few candles" explained Eragon

She didn't comment but he saw her arms loosing up. Eragon didn't know if it was because of the warmth or because Missandei felt more at ease but he was happy she hadn't freaked out.

"Thank you" whispered Missandei softly, letting a soft sigh escape her lips.

Chapter Text

"Now a Rider and a dragon form a very deep bond. While your situation is particular, there is almost certainly a deep bond between you and Drogon, which looks stronger than the one you probably share with Viserion and Rhaegal" explained Eragon to Daenerys who was listening to the words of the young Rider. "Usually, this bond grows with time and with the experiences shared. While this is certainly unusual, we will try to stimulate it in your case." explained Eragon to Daenerys and Tyrion.

"And as long as Daenerys doesn't mind, you're welcome to watch, if you can remain discrete and follow my instructions to the letter. Dragons remain dragons after all" he added, facing Tyrion, who was quick to nod.

The three of them were back in the wide plain surrounding Dragonstone's castle with Drogon and Saphira not too far from them, flying lazily above. Eragon had resumed their session after the previous interruption by Rhaegal. This event had hurt the faith of Daenerys in her dragons and she had wanted to continue their lessons as quickly as possible. Eragon had taken the time to reassure her and explain, from what he understood, that Rhaegal never meant to hurt Jon but had wanted to test Saphira. Indeed, after his initial sprint towards Jon's position, the green dragon had merely concentrated his attention on Jon without moving, following Saphira's order. It was the closest he could go without betraying Jon's trust and to tell her about his possible inheritance.

But, the issue of the Ancient Language was still there. They had started lightly but Eragon refused to delve deeper without some insurance, especially with the few things he had heard and learnt about the Targaryens. He didn't want to judge Daenerys for her ancestor's faults but he couldn't forget Glaedr's warning about blood transformation.

The presence of her dragons probably made her the most powerful leader here and he couldn't help her more without some reinsurance.

"I heard your concern about fealty in a language you don't understand. But I also need to think about the consequences of what I will share. I've been here for barely a month, and from what I've heard, you have already burnt people alive with your dragons while you have killed thousands with an explosion perfectly well calculated" he said, watching both Daenerys and Tyron. But he wasn't done and quickly continued, seeing the indignation rising in the young woman's eyes. "I'm not here to judge as I don't know anything about these events, only rumours. But this just proves you can fight, and I won't offer more tools to fight lightly, just like a King would never send weapons to his enemies," finished Eragon.

Tyrion nodded but Daenerys pressed "And I suppose you're exemplary and wise enough to handle such powers freely'

"Just like I'm asking you, I swore several oaths in Ancient Language who still bind me to not act rashly," answered Eragon, lifting a single eyebrow at the young woman.

She seemed to deflate and choose wisely to remain silent.

"Now, Daenerys, try to bring Drogon. Saphira will also be here" said Eragon.

As expected, Saphira was here moments later. She tried to land as delicately as possible but the earth still rocketed under her and Tyrion fell while trying to regain his balance.

Drogon too arrived with a mighty roar. He circled around them before landing a few feet behind Daenerys. The shock on the ground was smaller than Saphira's and he felt her annoyance at this small fact.

"You've been training with Drogon" stated Eragon, turning his gaze from the black dragon to face the young queen.

"Yes, I have" came her short reply, but he saw the small satisfaction that his comment had created.

The sun shone on the scales of the two dragons and for a few moments, they were all silent, watching the two creatures who were now sitting and eyeing them. It suddenly hit Eragon on how different the two were. Saphira usually slept like a dog would: curled with her wings in her back. Vaengr skulbakas, it seemed, used their wings as leaning just like Saphira would with her forelegs. So instead of being held back, Drogon's wings were around him and stretched forward.

"Well, this is great. Now that all the participants are present, we can start. Daenerys, I would like you to stay close to Drogon please" asked Eragon

She complied and with a few steps stood close to Drogon. Slowly, she started to gently pet the scales on his neck. The black dragon didn't seem very keen on being here, but Daenerys' request and Saphira's presence were enough at the moment.

"Tyrion, take a few steps back please. I'm not sure how Drogon will react," whispered Eragon and Tyrion slowly started taking a few steps backwards before standing a dozen feet behind Eragon.

When he was sure Tyrion was safe, he prepared himself for what was coming. Daenerys had assured him Drogon would never harm her. He could disobey her, but never had her dragons physically hurt her. The attention of all the Eldunaris was high, ready to interfere at the first sign of danger.

With Saphira's help, they started to slowly extend their mind in the direction of Drogon. It was impossible to miss. It was like looking at the sun with closed eyes. Drogon's mind was just as bright than the past few days, and Daenerys' usual shiny presence almost looked dull next to him. It also highlighted the similarities between the two. Each mind had its own identity, but Eragon now had enough experience to have a feel of the species he observed, and Drogon, Saphira and Daenerys definitely shared something in common.

How he had missed it until now, he didn't know. The lack of magicians in Westeros had somehow dulled his senses, just like his sword skills had evolved during the Varden's campaign.

But now that he had felt the similarities, he was unable to go past them. On a whim, he extended further, in the directions of the mines where he felt multiple people working. Focusing more, he was quick to find Jon's presence, and now that he knew what to look for, he couldn't miss it. Jon definitely had some of this light inside of him that indicated a close relation with dragons. It was less obvious than with Daenerys though.

"Focus on your task Eragon. What we see is indeed surprising but we can focus on it later. Drogon is starting to become impatient!" scolded Glaedr.

Sending a feeling of agreement, Eragon turned back his attention towards Daenerys and Drogon who hadn't moved during the past seconds. He slowly touched Daenerys' mind. He tried to be as delicate as possible while also making sure to be felt by the young woman, a tricky balance to find. He could have invaded her mind without her noticing, but that would have been useless.

She had been warned but still flinched at the light contact being made. It was easy to notice how focused she was. He perceived her love to Drogon and her dedication to learn more. There was also a faint presence hidden in the back of her mind. Someone else was also inside Daenerys' mind. Drogon was already inside her mind, and it just seemed to confirm their idea that these two shared a deep bond.

Drogon visibly flinched at the foreign contact but Daenerys who had expected this was quick to reassure him. Without losing a second, Eragon also started whispering words of comfort in Ancient Language.

His mind was a sharp contrast to what Eragon had just witnessed. It was wild, without any structure and the sonorities were harsher. There was also this deep sense of legacy that was proper to dragons.

Slowly, making sure to be as delicate as possible, he tried to bring Daenerys within Drogon's mind. The task was made difficult by the close physical distance separating Eragon and Daenerys from Drogon. He wasn't in the mood to fight against an angry dragon; it seemed that Daenerys's soothing words and the Ancient Language were enough to keep him alert but not aggressive.

Finally, when he felt that both minds were sufficiently used to their presence, he brought them together, on the verge of his and Saphira's own defences.

It was a unique experience, something which definitely required all the finesse he had at his disposal.

After some time, the two felt more at ease and Eragon could see a light smile on Daenerys' lips.

"Is this what you experience with Saphira?" she asked out loud with a shy smile.

"It depends, what are you feeling?" enquired Eragon.

"It's … like as if I could feel some emotions but I know these aren't my own. It's strange, but in a nice way. I feel closer to Drogon than I've ever been," continued Daenerys. Funnily, Eragon was able to see her internal struggle to express what she felt clear as day.

"Well, you're able to feel the front of Drogon's mind. And indeed, it's a strange feeling to experience. As if you were pinching someone's arm but feeling the pain yourself" tried Eragon.

Daenerys merely nodded, turning her attention to Drogon. Her hands automatically started to stroke the black scales, but she suddenly stopped

"I felt something I think!" exclaimed the young woman with clear surprise.

Tyrion perked up and Eragon merely smiled.

"What did you feel?" asked the young Rider

"He was happy, I think. Does that mean he likes it when I stroke him?"

"Well, I can tell you most dragon definitely like being stroked. So, you most certainly felt a wave of pleasure coming from Drogon"

"It seems amazing to be able to share such a strong bond"

Eragon decided to remain silent, and to let Daenerys have this very personal moment with Drogon. While she may have quickly realised that she was able to feel his emotions, she might need some time to fully understand that Drogon could also read her. This would certainly be a task for both of these very independent characters.

"From what you've told me, flying with Drogon could really become liberating. Would it be ok to try to fly with Drogon now?" suddenly asked Daenerys.

Eragon saw no reason to object and quickly agreed.

"Finally, a rider who's not afraid to ride his dragon!" teased Saphira. Eragon simply decided to ignore her comment but sent a wave of denial. Just for the form.

"Would Saphira and you like to join me? From what I saw in our last flight, my children enjoyed it as much as I did" told the young woman

"I'd be glad to come with you" answered Eragon, who had no pressing tasks to complete. He always enjoyed these moments with Saphira and couldn't wait to see more of the ballet the dragons offered them days ago.

Quickly he made his way towards Saphira who was just as eager to fly. As he made his way towards her left foreleg, he saw Tyrion Lannister who had remained during the whole session. Saphira followed his train of thoughts and quickly gave her agreement.

"Would you like to come with me and Saphira, Tyrion?" asked Eragon.

Tyrion's eyes went wide as saucers and Eragon was sure he wanted nothing more but to scream yes. However, the short man surprised him with his next words.

"Well, if her Grace goes on a trip in the air, someone needs to make sure that the plans for her invasions progresses well, and as her Hand, it's mostly my duty. I've already abused your kindness by staying here" finished Tyrion but Eragon could see his tone was forced.

But Daenerys had heard Tyrion.

"Tyrion Lannister, you've helped me a lot since you offered your service and while you never hid your love for dragons, I never could truly help you in that regard. Please, consider Eragon's offer as I know how much it means to you. I've seen your work. I know there's nothing you can do but wait for Cersei's answer. You brought Eragon and Jon here, perhaps without fully realising what it would bring, but still, I owe it to you" finished Daenerys.

Eragon saw the effects these words had to the dwarf who remained speechless for a few seconds.

"Then if it pleases your Grace" finished Tyrion, his voice cracking. But he quickly took the few steps separating him from Eragon.

"Saphira is alright to let you come with me don't worry. Just get slowly on her back, I will come after." Explained Eragon.

Daenerys was already on Drogon and was watching the scene unfolding with a smile on her lips. Drogon just wanted to fly and was looking at the scene with a bored look it that was possible for a dragon. But he was diligently awaiting Saphira's and Daenerys' approval.

In the meantime, Saphira had lowered herself and Tyrion was starting his slow climbing. He was breathing heavily but was putting in all the effort. Saphira had troubles remaining still with Tyrion's boots tickling her.

Thankfully, he managed to reach her spine and readied himself. When Eragon was assured Tyrion was firmly set, he joined him with three powerful jumps. Since they had no saddle at the moment, Eragon would hold Tyrion who had just realised his current predicament.

"Eragon, are you telling me that the only thing keeping me on your dragon besides my small arms and legs are your two arms?" chuckled the small man nervously.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine Tyrion. Saphira has never let anyone fall from her back before. At least, not willingly" chuckled Eragon. And before the small man could reply, Saphira spread her wide wings open. Eragon felt Tyrion tensing, probably a mix from the anticipation of what was coming and the fear at flying on a dragon with very little to hold him.

Drogon had seen that Saphira was ready and with two powerful wingbeats was in the air. Saphira followed suit and Eragon could hear Tyrion's mutterings to himself "should have listened to my father and looked after cats, not dragons" but it was too late as they were already high in the sky.

After a few seconds, Saphira stood close to Drogon and Daenerys who had mirth in her purple eyes as she watched her usually very exuberant Hand being so tense. Finally, as Saphira started to remain stationary, Tyrion managed to slightly relax and opened his eyes to admire his surroundings.

"How do you feel Tyrion?" shouted Daenerys atop Drogon.

"This is amazing, your Grace! Better than anything I could have imagined. I bet I'm the first dwarf to ride a dragon" answered Tyrion, his joy for all to hear.

"You're all dwarfs for me" replied Saphira through Eragon who repeated it at Tyrion who chuckled. "I can say that Saphira has probably been the first dragon mounted by a dwarf. And that this dwarf wasn't called Tyrion Lannister" added Eragon.

"Oh, this is something at least! And this sensation is amazing. Your Grace, I can certainly understand why you enjoy spending so much time with your dragons" exclaimed Tyrion.

The young woman merely laughed and with a slow nudge of her legs, pushed Drogon.

Saphira immediately followed, spitting a few flames in the air, which caused Tyrion to scream in surprise.

But before Daenerys could direct Drogon, Eragon shouted in her direction:

"With your mind now!"

She didn't question him and immediately paused before closing her eyes for a few seconds and for a moment, nothing seemed to happen. However, without any warning, Drogon started to spew massive flames. Daenerys had a smile plastered on her face.

Tyrion yelped at this show and rather quickly, started to relax, loosening his grip around Saphira's spine and looking around. Eragon could see small sweat marks around his neck, probably caused by his stress and the heat caused by the dragons.

The rest of their time in the skies passed quickly with Tyrion asking plenty of questions related to dragons, to which Eragon was glad to answer.

Rhaegal and Viserion also joined them very quickly but it seemed they were less interested in showing off and more eager to simply fly alongside Daenerys. Rhaegal was back to his usual self and no one made any comment to his past behaviour, something Daenerys was grateful for.

While their first flight had been intense, this one was more relaxing. It was a bonding experience, where Daenerys and Drogon started to understand each other on a deeper level.

They continued for an hour, peacefully flying over the small island which wasn't very big or surfing above the sea. Daenerys, Tyrion and Eragon took this time to talk about dragons, opportunities or just their life, learning small details about Essos, Westeros and Alagaësia.

In the meantime, Saphira was learning the patterns followed by the other dragons. She had learnt most of what she saw today from Glaedr and some Eldunaris had also given her some lessons over vaupna that she had remembered, but it was always different to experience it first-hand.

It was clear that Daenerys's dragons were used to this. Their coordination was almost flawless and from the little Eragon understood, it was an impressive feat.

Finally, they decided to go back to Dragonstone when the temperatures began to drop and that even close to Saphira, Tyrion started to shiver. Drogon and Saphira went back to the beach close to the mines. The two other dragons went for the cliffs, probably understanding that their time together was coming to an end for today.

The two dragons reached the ground, with a loud thud. Eragon managed to hold Tyrion and to prevent him from falling. After making sure he was stable, he released him from his grip before quickly getting off Saphira. He would be able to help Tyrion and to catch him if he were to fall.

With some fear, Tyrion looked over his shoulder to assess the situation. This wasn't the best idea and his eyes widened when he saw the height between his legs and the ground. Carefully, to avoid all the spikes littering Saphira's body, he began his slow descent. After a few steps, Eragon caught him by his waist and brought him back on the solid ground.

Tyrion stumbled but for once, it wasn't because of the wine. For a few seconds, he tried to open his mouth but no sound came out of it. After some time, he managed to splutter:

"If I can do anything to repay you for this, just tell me. A Lannister always pays his debts"

"Your kindness is very much appreciated Tyrion Lannister, but think nothing of it. Dragons take pride in their abilities and no amount of gold will ever be enough to buy our freedom. But I wouldn't mind a taste of some of this wine, it smells tasty." said Saphira directly to the dwarf.

Tyrion shivered from the touch on his mind but quickly nodded at her words before chuckling at Saphira's request. This certainly wasn't what he had expected Eragon thought.

The next days were spent in a similar fashion. In the morning, Eragon would help Daenerys to connect with Drogon. So far, they were able to transmit some sensations and ideas.

Daenerys loved to feel the affection from what she called her child towards her which would usually brighten her mood for long hours. Tyrion would sometimes join his Queen when his activities allowed him to free some time.

During the afternoon, they each would deal with their own activities. Eragon would usually read books about Westeros or talk with some people, like the Maester of the castle, while Daenerys continued to prepare her invasion. He preferred to remain distant during those times, to keep some sort of neutrality towards Westeros' politics. Sometimes, Daenerys would join Jon who was spending most of his time looking for more Dragonglass in the mines.

He could see the two being more open and less brooding. Eragon didn't know if Jon had shared his doubts about his parentage. He hadn't asked and for the moment, he didn't care if he did or not.

Saphira was also spending time with Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal. She cherished these moments, being the ladder of a small pack. It suited her and she took pride in teaching them some of the things she had learnt under the tutelage of Glaedr. She guided them to improve their flying skills or to focus their flames to one point. And she was learning as much as Daenerys' dragons, although for different reasons.

She had taught a few things to Firnen, but the circumstances were drastically different. Their relation had been different, induced by their common captivity in Urû'baen and the deep bond that existed between their riders. Here, she was starting from scratch and it suited her.

She was also working with the Eldunaris to communicate with Daenerys' dragons through their mind. They had never been taught nor trained when they were young, which showed today. If Eragon and Saphira had arrived a few years later, it might have been impossible to communicate with them without very long and taxing efforts.

So far, they had managed to get a few results but the task laying ahead of them was tedious, and it wasn't unusual to hear angry roars throughout the day. The first times, many people had been worried and Daenerys had come knocking at his door within seconds to understand what was happening. But after a few times, and seeing the evolution of the bond she shared with Drogon evolve, her worries had lessened. She still had an anxious expression whenever she heard her children but had stopped coming to Eragon. Still, he had confronted Saphira about this point, for his own piece of mind; However, she had merely laughed at him as if he had said a clever joke:

"What did you expect, little one? That we would deal with these issues like humans with papers or handshakes? We are dragons!" And thus, the discussion about this specific point had been closed rather effectively.

Maudria would often come with them to have a look at the dragons. Like all the elves, he respected and worshiped dragons. The elf had already done a few fairths, probably to show to his companions waiting for them in Winterfell.

Eragon had heard back from them yesterday. The remaining elves led by Blödhgarm had safely reached Winterfell a few days ago and were settling in. They hadn't encountered anything dangerous on the roads except for a few nights of harsh cold in the middle of a storm, which was to be expected given the current weather in Westeros.

The cold was now slowly reaching Dragonstone. Eragon could feel the temperature dropping. Each morning was colder than the previous one. They hadn't reached the temperatures they had felt a few weeks ago at the Wall or at Winterfell, but people had started to add a few layers of fur; the fires were lit earlier and kept longer ablaze. Winter was truly there and he couldn't fathom how the smallfolk would survive a winter lasting more than six months with the state Westeros was in. Wars had damaged the majority of the country, and at least three regions were still preparing for some rebellion with the North, Dragonstone and the capital, King's Landing.

He felt a duty to help these people, who were needlessly suffering. That was his duty of Rider, his first one. Killing mad kings or hundreds of soldiers wasn't what he wanted to pursue. But he needed to understand the reality of Westeros. He trusted no one here when it came to politics, not even Jon or Davos. He would help them to fight the dead, but the North's independence or the return of the Targaryen dynasty were entirely different situations.

Maybe he would go to King's Landing as a commoner. Brom had been able to hide for years in the castle of his nemesis, he could surely try to hide in an anonymous castle for a few days. He felt a small thrill of excitement at this prospect to hide like a farmer. It would be a small way to connect with his younger self, the Eragon he was before all this happened to him.

He felt Saphira's amusement at his idea.

"Troubles always find you Eragon, you would surely create a riot by tripping on yourself the first day," chuckled Saphira.

"Troubles always find me in Alagaësia Saphira! I'm a new man here" stated Eragon with the seriousness of a young kid.

"Careful, or I'll attach you to my back and we'll fly where no man has ever walked and far away from any dangerous animal. Perhaps this way you'll manage to remain safe for more than a week," threatened Saphira.

In the meantime, Jon and Daenerys had finally reached an agreement regarding the use of dragonglass. Jon would be able to mine and ship it freely. She had no real use of this and wanted to make a first step in the direction of the North.

Eragon thought that it was an incredible offer. While Jon would have liked some armies, he was being offered probably the only material that could save his people, without anything in return. He had been surprised by this fact and that Daenerys hadn't pushed for at least an oath of neutrality in her conquest of Westeros. But it seemed that the young woman had other plans for the North.

Perhaps the North would be able to have another image of Daenerys Targaryen.

Chapter Text

The agreement between the North and Daenerys brought an end to their time in Dragonstone. Jon had wanted to go back to the North as quickly as possible to create a safe route to carry all the resources to Winterfell and the decision to leave was swiftly taken.

Soon, it was time to depart. While Eragon would have preferred to stay in Dragonstone to learn more about the Targaryen family and their dragons, he had to respect Jon's wishes. Eragon had been the one to bring them here, and he couldn't decently let them fend for themselves to go back to Winterfell without a boat. It frustrated him but there was little he could do.

However, Jon had some plans that would go in Eragon's favour. Instead of going directly to Winterfell, Jon had asked if they could go to White Harbour, where the northern ships were located. By going there first, Jon expected to ship dragonglass quicker to Winterfell, where it would be brought to be forged and moulded into weapons. A naval route had been deemed the quickest to carry the precious mineral.

Eragon would drop Jon and Davos in White Harbour before going back to Dragonstone. Saphira was quicker than any raven, and she would allow the two leaders to quickly reach the port city to start the construction of the back and forth between White Harbour to Dragonstone. They would also have to finalise the shipment from there to Winterfell. But as Jon had pointed out, this last part would probably be the safest since the North was relatively free of mercenaries during winter. Afterwards, the two leaders would probably go on their own to Winterfell and perhaps to the Wall and start to organise the defence. Eragon's -and mostly Saphira's- help wouldn't be needed at this point.

If everything went well, the first shipment would be loaded within three weeks, a gain of a few weeks had they been without Saphira. The rest was up to the Northern's efficiency and logistics.

Their packing had been rapid since they hadn't brought a lot but Jon was bringing back what he had desperately needed: a deal for dragonglass. Eragon saw that part of the tension around Jon's shoulders had faded, an opinion also shared by Davos. Nevertheless, the young man was still very reserved and kept worrying about the future of the North. He had found the resources to fight this war. Now, he would have to find the soldiers to fight it.

The climate and atmosphere in Dragonstone had also changed in the past few days with the recent news of the Greyjoy's defeat at sea. The news had been as sudden as it had been painful to Daenerys. Varys had entered the throne room to privately deliver a message to the Queen. This was a normal occurrence, and it wasn't unusual for him to come two or three times during a single day. However, the way Daenerys' face had blanched indicated this was anything but a good news.

She had quickly interrupted her activities and Varys had taken its leaves quickly.

Tyrion had shared the news moments later, allowing him to understand her reaction since he had been reading in the back of the room at this moment.

She had isolated herself a few hours in her room, refusing to let anyone enter. The dragons had felt the sadness of their mother, and the island of Dragonstone had resonated with the cries of the three dragons during a whole afternoon, consequence of this bond not fully formed between dragons and rider. This had made the decision to leave only more difficult for Eragon and Saphira.

Standing close to her counsellors and a few Unsullied, Daenerys felt her chest constrict. She had grown fond of Eragon, Jon and their friends. A breath of fresh air in this political desert. The news from Ellaria Sand and Yara Greyjoy still hurt and she was at a loss. Olenna Tyrell had advised her to be a dragon, but what was that supposed to mean? Her whole life, she had had a vague idea of what it meant to be a dragon that had been taught by her brother. He had been ruthless, wild, harsh in his decisions.

Eragon and Saphira had shattered this image. They were strong, immensely strong, and she doubted anyone had seen in Westeros the full extent of their capacities. And still, they were patient, listened and made sound advice. It confused her, more than she would care to admit.

Jon would probably advise a solution related to honour or something equally foolish, while Eragon would probably talk to Saphira before reaching an unusual solution that might go against everything she had prepared.

But soon, she would have to decide without them. She'd have to rely on Tyrion and Varys, the latter who she trusted less and less; she couldn't completely trust the man who had offered his service to different kings.

She was supposed to be surrounded by her advisors, but they kept disappearing. Grey Worm had left to capture Casterly Rock, the Sands and Yara Greyjoy had been captured, Olenna Tyrel went back to Highgarden and Jorah Mormont was gods know-where.

Tyrion was often of good counsels, but lacked some information. He had been the one to advise the Greyjoy departure, just like he had supervised these poor negotiations in Slaver's Bay. But he understood most of what was happening, was more knowledgeable on Westeros than she cared to admit and thus made a good Hand, as he had proved by bringing Jon and Eragon to her even if she knew that part of this success was pure luck. It was during these moments that she missed Jorah Mormont and his sound advice.

She had taken time to think about his betrayal. It had hurt, and it still pained her. However, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find a moment where his advice or actions had sabotaged her plans. He had spied on her, broken her trust. But never had his counsels been wrong, which was more than what she could say about the others.

Still, for a short period of a few days, she had felt that she was with people who understood what was happening. People who understood exactly how she felt towards her dragons. But also, how she felt, alone, without any family or judged because of her parents. Eragon and Maudria had both an aura of power and wisdom surrounding them, while Jon Snow looked like the personification of brooding, which spoke of someone who had grown up alone, surrounded by family but unable to completely call them as such.

But Daenerys' musings came to an end when the small delegation stopped walking around. She had unconsciously followed their steps, lost in her own thoughts. They were present to properly see the departure of their guests and they were back in the fields surrounding the castle, where they had also arrived a few weeks ago. This was also where she had been taught to connect to Drogon during many afternoons.

Their goodbyes were much less frosty than their welcome. She took the opportunity to have a look around. With the absence of many of her Unsullied and some Ironborn, the island had grown more silent and was much less crowded. But she knew that the coming departure would be more felt than the departure of her army of Unsullied for instance.

Her dragons were present and stood close to Saphira. There was no hostility coming from them. They too had felt the coming departure of Saphira, and she was certain that she felt part of their disappointment through their bond. Or was it her own?

This bond made her wonder about all the small changes that operated in only a few weeks. Some were more obvious than others. For instance, they could feel part of each other's emotions like she could now. But some had been more discrete, and Daenerys thought that only her, and maybe Eragon, could spot them. She had noticed that Viserion had better control of his wings and Rhaegal was more agile in the air. He had always been the most graceful in the air but she had recently seen him perform figures she had never thought possible!

All these progresses had been made possible thanks to Eragon and Saphira, and she was at a loss about their relationship.

She couldn't deny that their unique relation was something she craved to develop with Drogon. Their bond was already stronger thanks to the few lessons they had had, but they still had a long way to go. Feeling her children's affection had affected her deeply. In the comfort of her bedroom, when she had tried it fully for the first time, she had been overwhelmed. The love she had felt from her children had brought tears to her eyes. But she had also heard their cries of worry the day she had learnt of Yara's capture.

Still, she felt uneasy about the vow Eragon wanted. She had witnessed first-hand how much damage magic could produce in the hand of someone trusted too easily, and if she was right, Eragon was infinitely more dangerous and powerful than Mirri, the witch who had killed her unborn child.

So far, Eragon hadn't offered any suspicion but she couldn't help to be cautious. Her family had a lot of enemies in Westeros and the North wasn't the place where she expected to find lots of strong allies. He hadn't made any mention of the Ancient Language recently, but they both knew it was a thorn in their studies and their trust.

Continuing her silent observations, she noticed Saphira, who had been saddled and was curled in the grass. The leather was of quality and she had never seen such exquisite work in Westeros or in Essos, and yet she knew Dothrakis took great pride with anything related to their horses, including the saddle. She couldn't even fathom the idea to try this with Drogon, but Saphira looked calm and was instead eying her three dragons.

The four mighty creatures had found their leadership, with Saphira being the leader and Drogon acting an intermediate for Rhaegal and Viserion.

Saphira must have felt her because her gaze shifted and her two deep blue eyes focused on her for a few seconds. It always unsettled Daenerys, unsure on how to react whenever she saw the wisdom and intelligence shining in the dragon's eyes.

"Trust your instincts but remember to take into account all the advice. You are a dragon, and we bow to no one, but that doesn't mean we don't listen," came the deep voice of the blue dragon inside her mind.

Except for her small shivering, nothing betrayed the silent exchange which had just happened. But she saw the gaze of Saphira on her and she discreetly nodded to the great dragon, silently thanking her for her sound advice before the blue dragon turned her attention back to Eragon and Daenerys was left to ponder on her advice.

In her own thoughts, she also caught Jon also looking at the dragons with a concerned and pensive look. She had seen this look on his face a lot in the past days but he had refused to tell her the reasons of his troubles when asked and her own activities had stopped her from overthinking on this. She expected that his thoughts were related to the edge her dragons could offer against the dead.

Next to him, Eragon was chatting with Tyrion and both had a genuine smile on their face. Since their adventure together in the skies, Tyrion had started to get friendly with Eragon and wouldn't accept any negative remark towards the Rider, which irked Varys to no end.

Finally, noticing her presence, Eragon and his friend Maudria came to formally greet her, bringing an end to her internal observation. It was quite formal but the tensions had been eased between them for a long time now. She was surprised by how graceful and sincere their farewell sounded. Jon and Davos came after, with a more formal and stiffer goodbye but she wasn't overly bothered by it.

She was confident that their opinion on her had changed and she hoped that her decision to let them mine the resources on her island for free would bring some support for the conquest of the Throne later on. Tyrion wasn't very optimistic but as she had pointed out, dragonglass was utterly useless for them and no one had ever found any use for it before Jon Snow had come.

As soon as the two northerners started to walk in their direction, her three dragons left but she saw some reluctance from Rhaegal. She hadn't forgotten about his attack on Jon but Eragon hadn't made any worrying comment about his behaviour.

She was grateful no one had been hurt or her conquest would have become a lot harder with the death of the King in the North, burnt alive by one of her dragons.

Once again lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't seen them getting on Saphira. The blue dragon didn't seem to be bothered by the four people on her back while she knew how complicated it would be to let other people mount Drogon.

Saphira opened her wings, brushing the grass on a large radius around her. Seconds later, she was gone. There was no sign of a recent departure: no horse noises nor boats you could follow on the horizon.

Sometimes, the biggest creatures were also the most silent.

Chapter Text

After a few days of travel, Eragon discovered the city of White Harbor, the first real port city he saw of Westeros. He didn't consider Eastwatch by the Sea as a town, let alone a city. White Harbor wasn't nowhere big as Teirm but with the North's population, he guessed it was more than enough.

The travel had been easy, if not colder than previous one and after a few days spent on Saphira's back, they got their first sight of the white walls of the city. They didn't want to lose time and scare everyone in the city by making a spectacular entrance with Saphira. While her presence wasn't a secret and had probably spread to most castles, most commoners were probably blissfully ignorant of the presence of another dragon roaming the skies of Westeros. Thus, they decided to land a league away from the city and to walk the remaining distance, with Maudria remaining there.

Their stay there was just like their travel: quick and efficient. Lord Manderly had been at Winterfell when Jon had left for Dragonstone and he was still as opulent and boisterous as before.

He didn't comment on Saphira's absence but Eragon could clearly see the curiosity shining in the man's eyes. At least, he had the decency to not bring the subject forward when he welcomed them.

After their stay, Eragon would have two options. He could follow Jon and go back to Winterfell and help the North for the coming War and the Winter. Or he could go back to Dragonstone and learn more about Dragons and Targaryens, while helping Daenerys, Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion.

They had discussed it at length during their travel to White Harbor with Saphira and some Eldunaris. They had highlighted the pros and cons of each choice. On the end, they had tried to find the place where Eragon would be the most useful.

At Winterfell, he would be able to help with the preparations of the defences whereas he would be able to teach Daenerys in Dragonstone since she was bound to stay there for a moment. And with Saphira, it would only take a few days to cross Westeros in case of an emergency.

They quickly deduced that his help at Dragonstone was irreplaceable. Blödhgarm and the others would be more than happy to help the North and their defences but the real challenge North laid in the hands of the numerous smiths and the common efforts. Eragon probably could have been a valuable asset there but easily replaced by a few dozen other strong men. Magic too had its limits, especially when it came to mass crafting.

Thus, their stay at White Harbor was quite short. They spent a total of two nights there, during which Eragon was unable to see Saphira. She stayed in the woods with Maudria and no one bothered them during that time. Eragon spent his time browsing the library of the city or talking to Lord Manderly when they required his opinion on some finer aspects of the logistic to carry dragonglass to the North. He also noticed the not-so-subtle attempts from the Lord to present him to his daughter.

He knew that Saphira would never let him forget these evenings, rolling in laugher at the way people mated here.

In the meantime, Jon and Davos were also spending much their time at the port, with several capitaines and the Master of Sea of the city. From the lack of outbursts or angry shouts, they seemed to be doing quite well.

On the morrow ofRhaegal the third day, Eragon bid his farewell to Jon. It was the occasion for the young King to thank Eragon for all his efforts and help. Their goodbyes were short but sincere. They wanted to leave in the first hours, where their departure would be less observed.

He quickly found Saphira, curled in the middle of the forest with her eyes shining with impatience. Maudria had saddled her and she was ready to taker off as soon as Eragon step foot in the small clearing. Without losing a second, he climbed on her bacl and they left.

Barely two weeks after leaving Dragonstone, they were back on the small volcanic island without any troublesduring their travel.

But when they saw the imposing cliffs on the distance, they felt something that they couldn't pin was wrong. It was Saphira who found out the first.

"The dragons, they're not here!" she exclaimed.

Extending his mind, Eragon felt she was right. The island was still far but he knew that even at this distance, he should be able to feel something. And yet, he couldn't find the deep and burning presence of the dragons' minds.

Troubled, Saphira immediately took the direction of the castle that they reached within minutes. Nothing had changed there. Unsullied and Dothrakis still crawled the beach and the plain but contrary to their first arrival, no one was here to greet them.

He also felt that the numbers of the soldiers were much less important than when they had left. In their haste to come back, they hadn't even considered the possibility that Daenerys wouldn't be here.

As Saphira slowly reached the gates leading to the dark castle, a small garrison of Unsullied came on them. With a steady pace, they surrounded Saphira.

Eragon knew they had more than enough energy in their wards to sustain hundreds if not thousands of spears, but he was more worried about the change of climate. They had barely left the island a fortnight ago, in a friendly demeanour, and with Saphira, they should have left a good impression.

None of the Unsullied made a move but Eragon and Maudria didn't dare leave the safety offered by Saphira's back. Nothing good would come out of it. Eragon knew that very few of these soldiers talked the common tongue, so instead, they decided to wait a few moments given that the Unsullied didn't plan to move. They expected someone to come quickly where everything would be explained. Otherwise, Eragon would have no other choice than to invade some of their minds, something he wished to avoid for the time being.

After a few moments of silent waiting, they saw Varys and Melisandre appearing, before taking their time to slowly descend the numerous black steps leading to the castle.

"Eragon, Maudria, we didn't expect you!" exclaimed Varys with his false cheerful voice. Inwardly, Eragon guessed that he was probably annoyed that he had been unable to predict their arrival.

They quickly answered his greeting before focusing on the question which was burning their mind.

"Where are the dragons? I would have expected to see them by now. And why isn't Daenerys here? Or Tyrion for that matter?" enquired Eragon.

"The attention of our Grace can't always be turned towards you Eragon Shadeslayer. She has an entire country to conquer. And Tyrion is helping her, as it is expected of him," answered Varys in his sulky voice.

Politics and lies. Eragon was already bored of it and he knew the worst had yet to come. During his search for the dragons, he hadn't found Daenerys' presence, which he had grown familiar with. Varys hadn't lied per say but he had turned around the truth, which irked him even more.

"Let me scare him for a bit, we will see if he can still speak half-truths. We've just crossed the continent twice , I'm done with politics and I could certainly eat a snack," threatened Saphira.

She emitted a slow growling, which, Eragon knew, was far from being the worst Saphira could do. But still, he noticed some of the men taking a step back and the eyes of Varys widening for a split second. It had been brief, but they had all seen it.

"Listen, we're the last people here who want to hurt or maim dragons. Our only goal is to protect them. We've just travelled back and forth between here and White Harbor. We'd just like to know why we're treated like strangers when we were here not two weeks ago," retorqued Eragon.

Before Varys could answer, Melisandre started talking to the soldiers surrounding them. He couldn't understand what she was saying her but if the movement of their spears was any indication, the Unsullied did. She was talking Valyrian understood Eragon, and instruction to be less hostile.

After a few moments, the soldiers started to step back before getting behind Varys and Melisandre, with their spears planted in the ground.

While it didn't offer them any explanation of Daenerys' whereabouts, it made their arrival feel a bit less frosty and oppressing.

"The Queen has left specific instructions concerning new arrivals. She probably didn't expect you to come back so quickly. You have our deepest apologies for this," answered Varys.

Eragon frowned. From what he understood, Daenerys had left Dragonstone with at least her dragons Tyrion, and some soldiers, probably Dothrakis. Nothing had been mentioned during their previous stay. Sure, he hadn't been invited to all her meetings, but he thought he had had a good overview of her campaign.

"And where has Daenerys Targaryen decided to go?" asked Eragon

The next minutes were a mix of emotions. Daenerys, in a fit of rage, had decided to attack to prove her worth after her last two defeats. Losing the majority of her Westerosi allies had gotten the better of her. Hearing that Casterly Rock had been a trap mere days after their departure had been the last strow.

He just hoped she wouldn't end up doing something she would regret.

"Daenerys is heading West. We have reasons to believe Cersei will attack the Reach and she decided to offer an answer"

"And you couldn't show her what a mistake that was!" exclaimed Eragon! "Her army is still here and she decides to go there by herself?"

"I thought you knew this Rider: dragons can't be tamed. And when Daenerys is set into an idea, very few can change her mindset. Tyrion was able to convince her to take more Dothrakis with her and will probably try to help her more in the coming days." said the red witch, without battling an eye.

"We need to go there, to protect the dragons at least!" said Saphira

"We should at least take a moment to think about it," replied Eragon

"Time is against us here Eragon. And you know as well as I do that you have to protect Daenerys' dragons. They are Saphira's pack, something you also can't forget" said Glaedr, in a voice that left little place for argument.

And Eragon understood that the matter was settled. Nothing he would say would be able to change their minds and, come to think of it, he also wanted to go and protect Daenerys. Maudria hadn't voiced his opinion but he knew that, as an elf, he cared even less about the human matter than Eragon and just wanted to help the dragons.

Immediately, Saphira took the direction of the West, going as fast as she could. The landscapes changed rapidly under her powerful wings. In a few hours, they had crossed the sea and found the Royal Road. Since it was probably the only way to move an army, they simply had to follow its path and hope to find Daenerys and her army at some point.

They just hoped they wouldn't be too late. Her conquest wasn't his priority and he wouldn't take at side or fight for an army at the moment. However, Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion had changed everything. The appearance of dragons had changed what little plans they had. Since Saphira fought Drogon and took the position of alpha, they had known, deep inside, that they would protect them to their best. They couldn't live with the knowledge that they let dragons and their rider, or whatever Daenerys' role in this mess was, suffer and die because of their inaction.

But now, they had to make it slowly, without giving away too much and without the protection of the Ancient Language. Sometimes, Eragon felt it would be easier if they had decided to spent a decade or two alone in the Spine with Saphira after the war against Galbatorix.

Instead, they were now flying above the muddy road, trying to find an army of Dothrakis one or more Dragons and one Mother of Dragons. Not your usual travellers and definitely not the most discrete.

Finally, after a long day of travel and worries, they were able to hear the cries made by a camp of soldiers. But they couldn't hear yet whose side it was. Furthermore, Eragon had no interest in taking part in a fight. He respected Daenerys and her fight but Riders were peace solvers. They needed to understand Cersei's reasons. Perhaps an agreement could be found between the two women and they could work together to work in the North. Because Eragon remembered the cold void he had felt with his mind north of the Wall. He remembered the fear in Rhunön's eyes. And he remembered Jon's words, ominous.

Eragon was more than bored of all these politics, even if he knew that with his position, he would be in the middle of them more often than he would like, to Saphira's great amusement.

They were still a few leagues away from the noises and Eragon's stomach dropped. For the sounds they could hear were of an army fighting, not resting. They had arrived too late and were proven right when a few seconds later, they heard Drogon's unmistakable angry roar.

Moments later, Saphira hidden with one of Eragon's spell, flew above the battlefield. Chaos reigned there, with horses running wild and Drogon creating havoc with his fire.

Daenerys' army had the advantage of surprise. The Dothrakis had emerged out of nowhere, rapidly closing the distance between them and the Lannister army. They were clearly unmatched on horses. He saw and felt dozens of soldiers wearing red tunics die, hit by arrows launched from galloping horses, something he had only seen Arya doing before.

Drogon's jaw opened and once more, inferno erupted from the creature made flesh. Daenerys stood there, her eyes glowing, unfazed by the heat and the show happening below her dragon.

Viserion and Rhaegal weren't in sight but Drogon was more than enough to bring the whole battalion down.

Eragon, Saphira and Maudria were the silent spectators to this battle, silently watching it unfolding and already knowing the outcome. Because at this point, Eragon couldn't see anything that would give the Lannister army the upper hand.

However, he saw a few reckless moves which ended more often than not with the deaths of a few Dothrakis, but it wasn't enough, especially with Drogon completely unchallenged.

Tyrion's cry shifted their attention and offered a name to the lone horseman fiercely going in the direction of Drogon and Daenerys with a spear. Jaime Lannister, Tyrion's older brother, was on suicide mission and looked like he was trying to bring down Daenerys with him.

It happened very quickly. Drogon saw the lone horsemen and turned his giant maw to grill him alive and protect Daenerys. However, before the flames reached the horse, Jaime Lannister was roughly pushed into the deep water by another soldier.

And with the disappearance of their leader, the battle was over, as quickly and suddenly as it had started.

The remaining soldiers were round up, surrounded by Dothrakis. Most looked afraid and kept looking left and right desperately. Their company had just been decimated in a matter of minutes by what many thought to be a creature of legends with barely any second thought and without much trouble. Said legend currently stood atop a small cliff with Daenerys next to him. The grounds were covered by ashes and burnt skeletons, something Eragon was all too familiar with.

Footsteps in the middle of the ashes were the only proof of his passage before disappearing, erased by the wind, as he slowly made his way to the large gathering made of the surviving soldiers. Their backs were turned on him

"I know what Cersei has told you," started Daenerys before pausing. "That I've come to destroy your cities, burn down your houses, murder your children. That's Cersei Lannister, not me. I'm not here to murder. And all I want to destroy is the wheel that is rolled over rich and poor to the benefit of no but the Cersei Lannister of the world. I offer you a choice: bend the knee and join me. Together we will leave a better place than we have found it. Or refuse, and die!" she concluded, looking straight ahead at the surviving soldiers.

The effect was immediate and with barely a second thought, the large majority of the Lannister soldiers dropped to the ground, bending the knee.

But two remained defiantly up.

A father and his son realised Eragon with horror. He had to stop this. If Daenerys was to follow her idea, she would inspire fear and mistrust in all Westeros, something she claimed to avoid. He silently made his way next to Daenerys, who stood next to Drogon, her dark leather attire blending close to his black scales.

Drogon had definitely felt him. The black dragon started to growl from his close presence but didn't make a move. Saphira had remained hidden with Maudria but the black dragon most certainly knew she was there. He probably had smelt or heard her, probably both. Eragon could still hear the slow grumbling made from Saphira's breathing if he focused on it.

Daenerys was completely unaware of Drogon's internal turmoil, cementing Eragon's opinion that she had still a lot to learn.

"Eragon, the human with the golden hand survived along with someone else, probably the one who pushed him. They're on the other side of the river" said Maudria.

"This was to be expected, they managed to avoid Drogon's flames from what we saw," supplied Eragon

"Yes, but you've seen and heard Tyrion like I did. This one has value, and we could learn about the Lannister," replied the elf

"Do it safely and try to avoid being seen by Daenerys or Tyrion then, or anyone for that matter. But from what I see, it shouldn't be too complicated," concluded Eragon, sharing what he was currently seeing.

As he concluded this, he received the equivalent of a mental nod from Maudria who went to his task.

Tyrion was also there and was trying to change his Queen's opinion, but to no avail it seemed. Behind the Dothrakis' horses, Eragon removed the spell hiding him and made his presence known.

Dothrakis immediately stated to surround him but Eragon didn't move. His wards were up and he knew if they decided to fight him, it would be a disaster, but not for him. Instead, he remained still, watching Daenerys and Tyrion. He saw their eyes widening and a look of surprise crossed their features for a brief moment.

"Eragon" whispered Daenerys but he heard it nevertheless.

He also saw Tyrion looking around and, in the air, probably trying to find Saphira. But the dragon in question was hidden, protected by dense bushes and by powerful spells that wouldn't fall anytime soon.

The soldiers were also wondering about this new appearance. Only the veteran soldier standing tall and proud, had remained motionless, watching straight ahead.

The only reaction from the Dothrakis was to tighten the ring around the prisoners.

Still in shock, Daenerys absently ordered the Dothrakis to let Eragon walk towards her. At least, she was willing to hear him out thought Eragon. Without sparring them a glance, he continued forward, in Daenerys's direction.

He quickly reached her petite figure. Even though she was definitely smaller, she wasn't impressed and met his gaze without flinching.

"You went to war" said Eragon, his voice even.

"War came to me!" answered the young lady, her eyes blazing with fury "They destroyed my fleet and killed my allies. I couldn't stand and watch Cersei destroy the small advantage I had built!"

"Does that mean that these men need to die?" he asked, pointing to the two men still standing.

"I've offered them another possibility. There were given the choice to bend the knee and they refused," Answered Daenerys.

"I found him, there was another one with him so I knocked him out and left him on the bank. He never saw me" said Maudria

"Good. I need to deal with Daenerys, she's set on another idea that could destroy her later" replied Eragon, before refocusing his whole attention on the young woman

"I beg you to reconsider you Grace, the Tarlys don't need to die" added Tyrion, almost begging.

Tyrion definitely was on his side for this matter. But Eragon couldn't forget that he had just taken a hostage, a man who was Tyrion's brother and the murderer of Daenerys' father. Not the easiest situation overall. And yet, the men refusing to bend the knee had once been supporters of the Targaryens if Eragon remember correctly what he had read about the Rebellion.

"Listen Daenerys. You once told me that Drogon deprived a father of his son, and that lead to one of your biggest mistakes in Essos. Will you now consciously let Drogon deprive a son of his father? Because you know the Tarly. I'm sure Jon has told you about Sam Tarly, his best friend at the Wall" asked Eragon

He knew his argument had hit true when her eyes widened. For the first time, he saw doubt in her eyes.

"Have you considered Drogon's position too. How do you think he feels, being considered as a killing machine by his mother?"

She looked speechless for a moment before facing him again.

"Drogon isn't my killing machine" whispered Daenerys, defiantly. But the fury in her eyes had dimmed.

"Is it? Have you thought about it? Dragons respect power. There's no honour in killing men without weapons, prisoners," started Eragon. "I know you've closed your mind and you don't even feel Drogon's emotions. Otherwise, you would have known we were here before. But still, think about how Drogon will perceive it and how the reast of Westeros will perceive it," continued the young Rider.

"They've refused to surrender and to bend the knee!" stated the young woman, but it lacked intensity and both of them knew it.

"And so, you've decided to burn them alive, just like your father did," retorted Eragon.

This time, Tyrion also widened his eyes. He knew he had pushed her; he just didn't know how far though. But she needed to understand this, she needed to understand war and that she would rarely find complete satisfaction.

Her eyes flashed with anger, indignation and shock. She certainly hadn't expected this.

"Don't you dare compare me to my father. I am nothing like him" whispered Daenerys furiously, her face mere inches away from Eragon's.

"Then prove it. You fought the Tarlys, fine. You won. Show the kind of ruler you want to be. What's to be understood from a Queen who kills her prisoners."

"So, what should I do? Release him and prove that my words mean nothing?"

"Send him to the Wall. He's a Lord, and was until very recently, one of Cersei's advisors. From what I've learnt, the Wall is a harsh punishment. And he is a good strategist. Believe it or not, but we need all capable fighters against the dead."

She saidnothing, only watching him in the eyes.

Slowly, she turned to face both Tarly, who hadn't moved. Eragon had to admit, they had guts to stand proud like this, facing their death without flinching, especially with Drogon looming over him.

"Randell Tarly. You've openly defied me and my authority. You will be sent to the Wall, to become a Brother of the Night's Watch and to defend the realm of men." she declared

"Unable to kill me? Already an oath breaker? I won't go to the North to help these barbarians!" replied the old Lord.

"I could end your family name here and now. But I won't. I'm not here to create more bloodshed. The North needs you. Not to fight the living. But to defend them against the dead."

He scoffed but didn't comment more. He probably knew there was nothing he could do but he couldn't hide the anger present in his eyes. She said a few words to the Dothrakis who grabbed him and tied his hands in his back.

Eragon released the breath he was holding. Now that this situation had been dealt with, he had to interrogate his new prisoner. And find a way to let Daenerys accept it. He had certainly not gotten into her good graces today, but it had to be done.

Moreover, he couldn't take a position without trying to understand each point of view, which is why he would interrogate Jamie Lannister and hopefully later, his sister, Cersei.

He had to do this, since Eragon had quickly understood that probably no one could be a match for him here. If he decided, he would probably be able to kill Cersei, Daenerys, Jon and Sansa and become the ruler of Westeros. So, if he had to fight someone, he had to make sure he didn't make a mistake.

All of this was getting to Eragon. Sometimes, he wondered what would have happened if Saphira and him had decided to remain in the small forest next to Garrow's farm, hidden from everyone, without the menace of Galbatorix. Maybe they could have tried something peaceful with small farm.

"Don't overthink this. We're here now. And you know as much as I do that this silly dream of your is impossible little one. You attract too much troubles" said Saphira softly

It was easy for dragons. They scarcely thought about past mistakes and usually only thought about the present. But deep down, he knew she was right – "as always" taunted Saphira- but it didn't make it any less easy.

Chapter Text

He reached Saphira, hidden behind some trees with Maudria standing guard. When he reached his partner, he saw that both men had been bound and were currently asleep, something that was without a doubt Maudria's doing.

"He was being protected by the other, I didn't want to kill him" offered Maudria as an explanation of the presence of another man next to Jamie Lannister.

Eragon nodded, not surprised by the presence of the two men. But his eyes were on who he assumed was Tyrion's older brother.

Everything about him expressed wealth. He wore a rich armor, with golden plates and a nice deep red colour. Eragon also noticed a golden hand which surprised him. He had known that Jamie was a good swordsman but he didn't know he had a missing hand. Usually, the loss of a hand was synonym of retirement or death for a knight. To build a reputation with a such a handicap was a testimony to his skills.

The man next to him couldn't be more different. His clothes lacked the richness from the Lannister but looked fitting. His sword wasn't overly decorated. It was a long and thin blade. Maudria had found several daggers, which were laying next to him. All were of the same style, simple but efficient weapons. He didn't know who this man was but he looked different from the regular Lannister soldier. And once again, he was caught in the middle of the Westerosi politics, with the life of two people laying in his hand. The night would be long and full of discussions, that was now a guarantee.

After his latest discussion with Daenerys, which had ended with cutting arguments, Eragon had preferred to remain at a safe distance from the camp. Maudria has found a quiet place to settle and had brought Jamie and the other prisoner with him. Eragon and Saphira stood a hundred feet away from him, where they would have some privacy and time to discuss without being too much bothered.

But it seemed that even Saphira's presence wasn't enough to guarantee Eragon some tranquillity and once more, he had to supress a groan. The day had been tiring enough as it was and he didn't want to deal with more problems.

They saw a lone figure walking in their direction before stopping at a safe distance. Even though he stood at a very reasonable distance, Eragon and Saphira didn't have any trouble to recognize Tyrion Lannister, waiting to be invited;

Saphira merely chuckled "It's the small man, let him, he's funny".

"Should I remind you that everyone is a small man for you Saphira," replied Eragon's amused. But as Saphira had pointed out, Tyrion Lannister had indeed come to talk and was asking their permission to come closer, which Eragon quickly gave.

Seconds later, Daenerys' Hand was with them. Instead of the usual looks of fear Saphira produced, Tyrion's eyes were filled with his excitement at being so close once again of a dragon. Their previous encounters had completely removed the few fears he had concerning Saphira.

"Evening Eragon, Saphira" started Tyrion

Quickly, they replied though Eragon spoke for Saphira who didn't want to invade Tyrion's mind. But he knew she appreciated the small gesture nevertheless, that many would forget.

They quickly discussed today's events and the logistic involved but Eragon felt that this wasn't the purpose of Tyrion's visit. He could feel the tension in his small shoulders and his voice lacked his usual carelessness.

"Daenerys certainly made a few enemies today," started Tyrion;

The crux of the problem was finally open. The reason of Tyrion's visit had been plain to see, both of them knew it. But still, it had taken him a few minutes to approach the subject and to open up.

"You expected to conquer Westeros with friends on all sides?" asked Eragon with some sarcasm.

"Of course not. But I never expected this" he finished, making a wide gesture with his right arm to show the ash-covered plain.

Eragon didn't comment, remembering the Burning Plains. Today, a few hundred men had died here, burnt alive by Drogon or cut down by the Dothrakis. The day they faced Thorn for the first time, thousands had died. Saphira and Eragon had fought during hours, killing hundreds just by the two of them. It was also the day Hrothgar had died, killed by Murthag.

It was truly impossible for him to compare this day to today's fighting. So Eragon decided to remain silent and to let Tyrion talk.

"I believe in her and I believe in her ideas. But sometimes, it feels like my task is to extinguish fires lit up by both my sister and the queen I serve."

"Can you not help her to see reason?"

"Do you always manage to win arguments with Saphira?" retorqued Tyrion which made Saphira grumble. "Sorry, didn't mean to say that" added Tyrion hastily, understand what he had just said.

But Eragon, instead of being angry was now laughing. "If only you knew half of it. She wasn't threatening, she was just laughing. Dragons can be incredibly stubborn, especially this one" finished Eragon while patting Saphira's side.

Truly, the dwarf was a breath of fresh air for Eragon and Saphira. Few would have dared to say anything like this to Saphira. And Eragon understood the predicament he was in.

He saw Tyrion's look and quickly shifted to offer a small place next to him and with a wave, invited him. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but it didn't take Tyrion more than a few seconds to make up his mind and to come next to Saphira's warm paw and to tentatively put a hand on her side.

For a while, nothing broke the silence except for Saphira's low and deep breathing.

"Thank you Eragon. For this, and for your help with Daenerys. I know you only seek to help her relation with her dragons and that you don't want to take a side with the throne but still thank you. It's been difficult for me, especially since my brother was on the battlefield today, but on the opposite side. I saw him, trying to led the men before trying to …" whispered Tyrion lost in his thoughts. He snapped out of his stupor and quickly added "Never mind He probably made it though."

Tyrion didn't see it but Eragon suddenly felt more uncomfortable. Tyrion's brother had indeed survived the battle but hadn't escaped properly like he believed. Instead, the knight was only a hundred feet away, under Maudria's watchful guard, bound and silenced, with Tyrion being none the wiser.

Lost in his thoughts, Tyrion pulled his wine sack to take a few more gulps, before turning to offer it to Eragon. He saw no point to refuse and accepted before taking a few gulps himself. This was certainly better than anything he had experienced at the Wall. It seemed that Tyrion took great pride to always have good wine close to him, as he had noticed that the wine present in Dragonstone had also been sensibly better than in Winterfell.

As he made a gesture to give the pouch back, Saphira started to grumble, making Tyrion jump in fright.

"Don't you dare forget me Eragon, it's been months since I've had anything noticeably tasteful" threatened Saphira.

Meanwhile, Eragon looked apoplectically at Tyrion, knowing how hard it would be to deny Saphira now.

"Saphira would like to have a taste, if that's possible," translated Eragon. He hoped he would agree, because he didn't know how she would react to a negative answer. He didn't need another political disaster, caused by a sack of wine.

Still stunned, Tyrion could only nod and watch as Eragon got close to her jaw, where she lazily rolled out her tongue. With a laugh, he simply poured the remaining of the wine to Saphira.

She purred happily. "There wasn't much in there," she concluded sadly. "It was good though. Not dwarf level but certainly better than the piss we've been served in the forever-cold-frozen lands".

With a mental shrug, Eragon went back to Tyrion. Still in a daze, he took back his pouch.

"So, your dragon likes my wine," he concluded with a dejected tone eying his now empty bag.

And Eragon simply laughed.

The next morning wasn't as cheerful. His wards protected him from most of the smell but he couldn't miss the charred corpse littering the field. The Dothrakis had started to gather them, or at least, what remained of them while Eragon, Saphira, Maudria and the Eldunaris had been discussing the next course of actions.

Tyrion had left Eragon and Saphira late at night, to reach his personal place, with the promise to see them in a formal setting with Daenerys around.

He'd have to deal with Jamie Lannister rather sooner than later. The first point, and probably the most delicate one, would be to find the right approach between the executioner and the counsellor.

"Remember Sloan" said Saphira gently

"You don't have to remind me of this, I remember perfectly well the mess it created. Crossing Alagaësia by foot, alone and taking a decision without Islanzadi 's approval," grumbled Eragon. "But still, I've never regretted my action. I knew, just like I know now, that it was the right thing to do."

"But the situation is infinitely different here "advertised Umaroth who had learnt about this incident during their trip from Alagaësia to Westeros. "This is not a random butcher from a small town. Your hostage is the brother of the current queen, brother of Daenerys's advisor, allegedly a skilled swordsman, coming from the richest family and finally, the murderer of Daenerys's father, in an act that gave him the name Oathbreaker."

"I know, but we can't sit idle when a war is brewing North and that two factions are pushing for a throne. What do you think I should do?" enquired Eragon.

"This is not a situation we can dictate. You're meant to be the leader of the Cast soon, and as such, will have to take difficult decisions. We will gladly assist you but the decision is yours to take," explained Umaroth wisely.

He went silent for a few seconds and rose from his position, close to Saphira's side, slowly stretching his limbs and started walking. He passed by a few Dothrakis. They were tending their horses, gathering corpses and some were still sleeping, in the open, under thick layers of fur. Some offered him a node or acknowledged his presence by a small gesture that he would mindlessly return.

Without him noticing, his feet brought him close to where Maudria stood. The elf was there to welcome him. The two prisoners were still there, bound, asleep and hidden from the rest of the world.

He noticed their breathing, even.

Without a movement of doubt, Eragon dived into Jamie Lannister's mind, to understand the man he was. This would be his path of action. Just like with Sloan, he needed to understand the man Jaime Lannister was. Eragon softly started to navigate through his memories, as gently as possible. Jamie might remember some of this but would probably consider it as a dream.

He saw parts of his childhood, his harsh but very rich education, the bond he shared with his twin Cersei and his deep affection for Tyrion. The important aspects were easy to spot, in his completely open mind.

But the more he explored his mind, the more uneasy he felt. His relation with Cersei was turning into something more personal, intimate. Incest was quite frowned upon in Alagaësia but he didn't know in Westeros. The child was becoming a man, a soldier, a knight. However, all the memories seemed to lead to one major event, which was getting closer, but Eragon didn't want to rush. The consequences could be terrible for Jaime's mind, and he wanted to remain caution and quiet with his observations, to understand as much as possible, to understand to the best of his knowledge the current situation. As Umaroth had pointed out, he had probably picked the worst candidate to be his prisoner. But he was getting closer to the memory. He had never felt such a process. Jaime Lannister's mind was a funnel, with one memory being at the end of it.

The scene was set in stone in the Lannister's mind. Eragon had never seen such precision on an old memory coming from a human's mind.

He saw a man, deranged, standing on a chair made of swords. It was quite stylish. But he quickly understood that this man, was Daenerys' father, the Mad King, when he saw Jaime bowing with his white cape. Absently, he tried to find some common points with Daenerys, but except for the eyes, nothing stood obviously.

Two other people were in the room. They were whispering but he was able to hear a few of their words, from Jaime's point of view: "war", "fire", "Lannister", "Baratheon", "dead" … One of them wore the distinctive pin Tyrion currently wore.

From what he had heard and read; he was probably looking at the end of his reign. There was a feeling of doom in the atmosphere and no light penetrated the imposing room except for a few candles.

The atmosphere of the room shifted. The King had awoken from his daze and his crazy eyes were looking all around the room.

He was spluttering, loosing himself in his speech. Eragon suddenly understood why people still called him the Mad King. But the King had readied himself and was now ordering the two men in the room: "Burn them all" was shouted, as a mantra, stronger and stronger.

In a half daze, forgetting that he was in a memory, he watched as Jaime took a few steps, drawing his sword, killing the Hand of the King, the men standing next to him, before turning and taking a few steps to stab the King, powerless to stop him.

He suddenly felt the uneasy inside Jaime's mind. The prisoner had awoken, probably troubled by the memories Eragon was watching. He quickly decided to leave his mind.

The first thought that crossed Eragon was that he had met another Kingslayer. The second was that he had definitely the biggest magnet for troubles.

The situation had turned out of control. This prisoner wasn't just the brother of Tyrion and of the current queen. He was also the one who had killed Daenerys' father in cold blood, a king he had sworn to protect, a king completely mad.

"This is getting too much" whispered Eragon to Saphira

"Don't worry little one, I'm always here for you" soothed Saphira, sending a wave of comfort through their bond.

His initial panic was slowly buried under waves of trust and calm offered by Saphira.

"Thank you" offered Eragon, gathering his thoughts.

In the meantime, Jaime had awoken and was trying to free himself from his bounds, to no avail. His eyes kept looking around to understand his predicament but he was tightly bound. They wanted to avoid using too much magic, to hide their true potential. They could see the panic rising in his eyes as he became aware of his situation.

As silently as he had arrived, he left, without uttering a word. He felt bad leaving Jaime Lannister awake, in panic, without any assistance but he knew what had to be done and he would have to prepare for it. On his way back, he found more people awake, working around, walking. The army would leave soon so Eragon didn't have much time.

He was still trying to process Jaime's gesture. He had seen part of the explanation. But he had been a boy at that time, barely sixteen. And the whole country still called him Oathbreaker or Kingslayer twenty years later. War certainly was messy and destroyed countless lives.

He found back his position close to Saphira. He started to prepare her, letting his hands focus on the small tasks needed to set her saddle, while preparing for the difficult discussion laying ahead of him. Saphira was there, helping him, his rock to face what the future held for them.

Finally, after a few minutes, he was done and started to make his way towards Daenerys' tent. It was in the middle of the camp, protected by a small dozen of guards. He heard her discussing inside, with Tyrion and winced. The discussion would be complicated with both their presence, for different reasons though.

When he tried to go through, he was stopped by one Dothraki, placing his curved weapon on Eragon's chest. He could feel the pressure exerted by the blade on his tunic. More than the gesture, it was the intention behind that caught Eragon's attention. He wasn't free to meet the Daenerys at his leisure. It was a small show of power. Remaining calm, he asked permission to meet her, not overly bothered by this settle back.

A few seconds later, he was granted entrance and was led into her fairly simple tent. As expected, Daenerys and Tyrion were already inside and seemed to have stopped in the middle of their discussion. The atmosphere wasn't as open as it had once been in Dragonstone but it was nowhere yesterday's level. However, he knew it wouldn't last long.

He greeted both of them. He noticed that Daenerys' welcome was quite formal and very cold, while Tyrion also looked more open. He noticed the smile the dwarf had for him.

This would only complicate the discussion more, but he knew that this had to be done.

He was exhausted and barely took the time to properly greet them.

"I'm not here to apologise for my actions yesterday. We will certainly have more time to discuss it another time, with cool heads. But I found out something yesterday that I feel I need to share with you" explained Eragon.

"Should I leave you now?" asked Tyrion to Daenerys.

She didn't answer but looked directly at Eragon, lifting a single eyebrow. He noticed her eyes, the exact same purple than he had seen on the Mad King's face. He could hear the shouts, fresh in his mind, and couldn't help but remember her previous decision, to burn the Tarlys.

"I think it would be better if you were to stay," answered Eragon.

She nodded and kept looking at him in the eyes.

"What do you want to talk about Eragon?" demanded Daenerys

"I think it would be better if I were to directly show you".

And without letting them the time, he turned on his heels and quickly left the tent. Maudria stood close to it, with Jaime bound next to him. He was glaring at Eragon but he didn't care. Quickly thanking the elf, Eragon took the man to bring him back inside the tent he had just left.

The whole room seemed to freeze when he entered. Tyrion had his eyes wide, trying to understand why his brothers was here. Daenerys looked curious, not sure who the man was. And Jaime's smirk dropped at the sight of his brother and of Daenerys. Clearly, he hadn't expected to see them, which suited Eragon just fine.

"Jaime!" blurted Tyrion, unable to stop himself.

Daenerys's face immediately morphed at the sight of the Kingslayer. Her face froze and her eyes looked more murderous than ever.

"As you may have gathered, this is Jaime Lannister." started Eragon

"Very well. When did you find him?" did Daenerys reply in a very cold and detached tone.

"We found him yesterday after the battle" started Eragon, before being interrupted by Tyrion who whispered painlessly, betrayal etched on his face "You knew! You knew and you didn't tell me".

"Let Eragon explain. Maybe he could tell us why he didn't see it fit to share this with me yesterday?" enquired Daenerys, emotionless.

Eragon didn't feel the urge to reply. He knew the coming talk would be difficult and long, he saw no reason to lose his time over trivial matters such as the time of his capture and the time it took to bring him to Daenerys. She seemed to understand she wouldn't be getting an answer and instead turned to face her father's murderer.

Daenerys merely looked at Jaime, who was defiantly returning her gaze.

"Kingslayer". It was a single word, but it contained all the contempt she held for the men standing in front of her.

"Daenerys Targaryen" he replied, curtly.

"Listen you. You're in no position to talk. The only people who know you're alive are inside this tent and Maudria; No one else knows. For the rest of the world, you've died in the battle, burnt alive. There's nothing who proves the contrary, especially for your sister. So, you'd better listen to what we have to say now" whispered Eragon with some anger

"Well, we shall keep him prisoner in Dragonstone's cells, before I decide on what to do with him" explained frostily the young queen.

"I'm sorry Daenerys but I cannot allow you to do that" explained Eragon.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Tyrion perking up and Jaime widening his eyes.

"Oh. What is your idea this time Eragon Shadeslayer? Another prisoner for the Wall, to fight ice snowmen" whispered Daenerys with some venom in her voice.

"When we arrived in Westeros, we tried our best to avoid getting involved in its politics. Our presence here might prove the contrary, but I want to remain as neutral as possible. If I brought Jaime Lannister here, it was because you deserved to know the truth about your father Daenerys, you, more than anyone else. The second option is the possibility it gives to protect the Wall indeed."

"And yet you did nothing to stop me from making prisoners yesterday"

"Don't mix everything. Yesterday was a battle you won by yourself. I simply told you that killing prisoners with a dragon wasn't the right choice. Now, regarding Jaime Lannister, Maudria was the one who captured him. I know you didn't send any scouts so he would have made it back to Cersei without any trouble if not for us."

"So, you're saying we need to listen to this man. Why?" stated Daenerys.

"Because I think your judgement is clouded, and most importantly, based on uncomplete truths" finished Eragon.

It was at this moment Jaime decided to act and looked at Eragon, his sneer back in place

"And you would know better? You, who comes from an unknown house, who I have never seen and who's thinking dreams of grandeur because he brought the Kingslayer to the Targaryen Queen?" he replied hauntedly.

Tyrion had wanted to interfere but Eragon raised his hand, stopping him and allowing Jaime to keep with his rant.

When he was done, Eragon simply looked at him before whispering in his ear the fated words:

"Burn them all".

The effect was immediate. Jaime immediately blanched and stopped dead in tracks, all his arrogance gone.

"Where did you hear this?" he all but growled.

"It doesn't matter. What you need to know is that I know. And don't think you're the only one. My name is Eragon Kingslayer," concluded Eragon with a serious look.

"What did you say to him Eragon? I've never seen Jaime stopped like this," enquired Tyrion, breaking the small tension between Jaime and Eragon.

Daenerys also had a curious look, but it was Jaime Lannister who answered them, still in a daze, repeating the words Eragon had heard before and whispered moments ago.

Eragon nodded, looking straight into her eyes, unable to stop himself from overlaying the face of her father. Her anger had calmed down, but there was no point denying that moments ago, her eyes had borne the same twinkle of madness than her father the day he had been murdered.

He also saw the look of confusion in their eyes. It seemed Jaime Lannister had told no one the reasons behind his act. And while Eragon had understood part of it, by looking at the memories of the knights, he would like to hear the truth, coming from his voice.

The next minutes, Eragon learnt about the other side of an important event, a side that had been completely overlooked in the wake of the victory. In a very monotonous tone, Jaime started to explain the atmosphere inside the Red Keep, where the Mad King had isolated himself with his hand the days before the end of the Rebellion.

He learnt about the atrocities committed there, and the atrocities planned, his growing obsession with fire and wildfire. Eragon had heard and learnt about this during his studies with Oromis but hadn't expected to find mentions of it in Westeros, and even less huge amount of it, pilled under the capital.

Finally, after some time, Jaime Lannister stopped talking and a heavy silence fell onto the tent.

No one started talking, the only noise being the comments made by the Eldunaris and the Dothrakis outside. It was Daenerys who broke the silence first, but she didn't talk to Jaime. Instead, she was watching Eragon straight in the eyes

"Is this true?" she asked, with uncertainty peeking through her voice.

"As far as I know, he didn't lie. Everything he said is true" replied Eragon. But Tyrion cut him, his eyes betraying the turmoil he was feeling.

"Why did you never tell me? Why didn't you tell anyone? Father, Cersei, you told no one!" he screamed, his frustration and anger apparent.

Daenerys looked just as dejected but Eragon gathered that it was for different reasons. True enough, she spoke quietly, almost to herself.

"My whole life is built on a lie. My conquest, based on a misunderstanding. And my father was a monster"

This was an important reject for the young woman, who stood dejectedly. It was one thing to hear about the cruelty of your father; It was another to hear he had planned to burn a whole city ablaze without a second thought in his madness.

"What about my nephews and my sister though" asked Daenerys suddenly, with emotions. "Are there also some hidden reasons?"

He looked taken aback, not having expected this question. Eragon stood behind, clearly understand there was something deeper that he didn't know.

"Their deaths were … I tried to. I had promised Rhaegar to protect them, both from the outside but also from your father. We tried, but in the end, it wasn't enough. What happened to them is a tragedy" concluded Jaime.

He sounded sincere and truly affected by what had happened all these years ago. They kept exchanging a bit, but the animosity was gone. They were still cold to each other but had kept the discussion civile.

Finally, it was Jaime Lannister who once again broke the silence, by interrupting Eragon in his thoughts.

"If I am to be your prisoner, could I know who you are? I've never seen you around"

"My name is Eragon as you probably gathered. And I travelled, from a distant country called Alagaësia with a few friends and Saphira" shared Eragon

"Saphira? "he replied, his curiosity peaking

"My dragon" replied Eragon

"One day, I swear, I'll teach your tact Eragon. How you managed to survive politics for so long is beyond me. And I'm a dragon" said Saphira, laughing at his predicament.

It seemed she was right since the man had stopped dead in tracks, once more.

"This is a silly joke, right? A way to relax after this heavy discussion. You're not a Targaryen and we would have heard of the presence of another dragon" he said, trying to find traces of amusements in his brother's eyes.

But he couldn't keep up, as Saphira made her presence known by growling softly, which stopped all form of contestation;

He chuckled nervously, trying to ease some his tension.

"You certainly surround yourself with interesting people. And you got your dreams to meet dragons then I suppose' said Jaime directly to his little brother

"I've been around" Tyrion replied cautiously but Eragon and Daenerys could hear the emotion coming from the little man from what he had heard and to be back with his family.

"And I'm supposed to be your prisoner, is that it" asked Jaime

"You don't seem to take it hard?" answered Eragon

"I've been a prisoner for the Stark during months, lost this in the process" he replied casually, lifting his golden hand. "So, I'll take it in stride, knowing there isn't much I can this this point" he replied.

"Well, unfortunately for you, we're going back North, to help the Stark. The good news is that you won't be their prisoner. The army of the dead is rising and we need every man to fight against this foe, including Lannister soldiers. But according to your brother, your sister would need some form of evidence" explained Eragon

Daenerys was eying him intently, since she wasn't aware of his plans for Jaime Lannister and this was the first time, he was sharing them.

"Wait, you're buying this!" Jaime exclaimed "First dragons then this? The army of the dead really? These are children's stories! We would know for sure if such a large army existed, if the legends are to be believed!"

"And so were dragons in Westeros. Jaime, this is serious. We've received numerous missives from the Wall and Jon Snow himself came to Dragonstone, begging to use dragonglass, a resource which, as you must know, has basically no use, that the Northerners will mine in the middle of Winter. I think there is something going on"

"Cersei hasn't shared anything of this with me. But she could have kept this to herself I suppose. And what is my role in this?" Jaime asked after taking a moment to ponder the words of his brother.

"Well, imagine if I were to go with Jon Snow in King's Landing, to request some help from your sister that you just mentioned and who seems to take the threat very seriously. How would she react?" asked Eragon

"She'd dismiss you, maybe execute you if she felt she was losing her time" replied Jaime immediately.

Eragon didn't react on this but he felt Saphira's amusement at the idea of being executed without a second thought. "Let them try, it would be funny to watch at least"

"Well, you understand our predicament. So, we decided to bring some evidence. Imagine the previous situation, but instead of Jon, you're the one who claims this. Maybe you bring a proof forward. How does your sister react?"

"I guess her reaction would be different. More open to listen at least," he replied, cautiously weighting his words.

"So, this is why you're here. Soon, we will go North with Saphira to prepare the defences and find some evidence to show Cersei or you."

"And if I refuse?"

Even Daenerys lifted her eyebrow at his bold statement but Ergon wasn't deterred and merely cracked a smile

"Frankly at this point, you don't have a choice. Either way, you're going. You're surrendered by very capable fighters and dragons who could smell your miles away. If there's nothing, you've just gone to the Wall and got cold and I promise to bring you back South. Otherwise, you see the dead and I promise, you'll be doing everything to help us" concluded Eragon darkly.

Chapter Text

While flying above the Stormlands, Eragon felt his wards reacting to a foreign scrying. Immediately, he locked his mind to have a proper look at what was happening.

After a few seconds of frenzy, he was quick to recognize Mitsu's magic trying to reach him. The magic was directed at the pocket mirror Saphira carried in one of the saddle's bag. Eragon had kept a regular contact with the elves but he hadn't expected a call for another two days. This could only mean something had taken place which brought him into action.

Stretching, he managed to open the bag to reach the mirror, instead of seeing his reflection, as one would have expected after using a mirror, Mitsu's faced him. Eragon didn't recognise the place he was, but he wasn't overly worried. He received the usual greeting from the elf, gesture that he quickly reciprocated.

"You need to come back to the Wall Argetlam" followed Mitsu without missing a beat.

"What's happening?" enquired Eragon.

He figured that if they were calling him without notice, something serious had happened at the Wall.

Indeed, during one of their previous calls, Eragon had learnt that Jon and Davos had reached Winterfell, and that from there, Tormund had been tasked to man the Wall with the Wildlings. Since Eragon hadn't planned on coming back anytime soon to Winterfell, some elves had decided to go back to the Wall. This way, they'd keep an eye -a mental one- on the dead.

Jon expected an attack in the coming months but given the deep snow and the lack of means of fast communication, they would need all the advantage they could get.

He remembered Runcorn's worried face and the enormous sea of cold and dead he had felt at Eastwatch by the Sea. This certainly gave Eragon and the elves enough reasons to be concerned about the coming threat.

The old dragons had also opened up, sharing their oldest memories, to teach Eragon about this everlasting enemy. It had offered very long discussions, where Eragon and Saphira, but also the dragons bound to the old Riders learnt a lot about the elves, where they came from and part of their history. It had been a unique experience, to hear and feel what elves where before their long

"We felt movement on the other side of the Wall. The dead are moving, they're heading South," explained Mitsu, remaining calm even though the news he carried were dramatic.

"How much time do you think we have" enquired the young Rider.

"I don't know how fast they will go. They hadn't really moved from where we discovered them North the Wall until last night. And since then, they must have covered a few miles. It's not clear, we don't have enough info to properly gauge. But we think we still have a few weeks before they reach the Wall."

"Thank you Mitsu. I need to talk with the Eldunaris to see how we need to act."

"Of course. We should be able to help and we will increase the defence here."

"I'll contact you soon" concluded Eragon

They gave the usual farewell and with that, the surface of Eragon's mirror shimmered for a few seconds before he could see his own reflection once again, before sighing.

They had expected this, they had just hoped for more time. The North should be able to help in time. If they left today, the Northerners soldiers would get there in time. Maybe Daenerys could get to the Wall with her dragons too. The rest of her army however, would be unable to reach the Wall in the required time.

This was the start of a splitting logistical and political headache.

"Relax Eragon, you're not alone with this task" started Umaroth. But he couldn't relax at this moment. At this point, the only thing that stood in his mind was his presence in a foreign country and the coming invasion of a millennial old enemy.

"Don't start with the melodrama Eragon, it doesn't suit you. You're not a dragon" teased Saphira, which had the merit to make him snort. There were no bigger divas than dragons. Literally.

"I guess you were right all this time" started Eragon

"I know, I'm always right. But why?" laughed Saphira

"I definitely have the worst luck" said Eragon laughing, joined by Saphira immediately after.

These small discussions with Saphira always helped him to ease his mind. She was always there to bring him back on the right track. There was always this warm and comforting presence in the back of his mind, which scarcely left him. He couldn't remember the last time they had been separated more than a few minutes. Their bond was truly strong after all these experiences.

After a few minutes of relaxation, he was able to correctly focus and he remembered their initial discussion.

"How would Vrael have dealt with such a mission?" asked Eragon softly. He felt the pang of pain coming from Umaroth at the reminder of his departed Rider, the loss still presents after close to a hundred years.

This pain felt just more vivid after what he had just experienced with Saphira and he couldn't fathom the pain and sorrow these dragons were feeling, separated from their riders for so long. He made sure to keep these thoughts private but it didn't stop a shiver from running down his spine.

"What my Rider would have done matters little here Eragon Kingslayer," started Umaroth, emphasising on his title. "The Cast had its ideas, its rules, which worked well for centuries but also led it to its end. I can't give you a specific answer, just some points that he would focus on" explained the Eldunari of the white dragon.

Eragon sent a wave of understanding but was internally curious. Were his decisions already so different than what Riders would have taken before? But before he couldn't pursue on his train of thoughts, as the dragon was resuming his explanations.

"There are many points which would have been considered. But some of the most common were the level of threat caused to the Cast, the origin of the issue, if we had already dealt with it before and so on,"explained Umaroth.

It offered little help to Eragon, who'd have to sit on this to make the best decision, with Saphira's insight, obviously. He didn't know what he had expected but at least, he was fixed.

They remained in the air for a while, sharing their thoughts. The choice had been easy to take and they had taken the rest of this time to make their peace with this decision and to simply have some time for them. They knew troubles were brewing and that difficult times laid ahead of them. With an unspoken agreement, they had decided to remain together, to enjoy the quiet of the night. Cold wasn't an issue, and there was no rain nor snow during the night and a quick spell took care of the rest. In fact, it was a beautiful night, without many clouds to hide the stars. They were different from Carvahal and it suddenly dawned on Eragon how far he was from his previous home.

He imagined, Roran and Katrina building their new home, with little Ismira. Horst making another forge, with the help of his sons.

"There's a weight in your mind Eragon, what is it?" enquired Glaedr.

"It's nothing, just questions left unanswered?"

"Well, if you're trying to argue with a dragon, it just proves that you have a lot to learn little one" reflected Saphira. "But what is it? I've also felt a small weight in your mind, but not the one you associate with the loss of Alagaësia".

"I've been thinking about my mother, and her part during the war" started Eragon

"Selena? What made you so thoughtful about her suddenly?" enquired Saphira, her surprise obvious.

"I've heard the reports, from Jeod or others, about how ruthless she was. The Black Hand, that was her name during the war"

"She changed Eragon, she changed after she met Brom, to make a caring woman, we told you this I reckon"

"But what about before? When she was the Black Hand? How could Brom fall in love with her before she changed? What did he see in her?" continued the young man

"Selena's life was complex and eternally changing. The woman she was when she became known as the Black Hand was different from the woman who gave birth to Murthag or to you" explained Glaedr

"I know, but it doesn't make sense I guess" stated Eragon, trying to explain properly his internal turmoil.

"Why these question Eragon? You never questioned Brom's love before, and no matter how short their time together was, Selena and Brom's love was pure and deep."

"I guess exploring the mind and behaviour of this assassin in Winterfell made me realize what a true assassin was. We met hundreds of soldiers, enemies, hostile lords or even Galbatorix but I had never met someone like him. The dwarfs, or even humans, these was little small attempts. But here, his whole mind, purpose, being was turned on assassination. There was nothing about dreams, expectations, future or even past. And I guess I made a connection with my mother, connection the stories I heard about the Black Woman to the experience I witnessed" shared Eragon, feeling silly and also unwell sharing this.

"I can only share what Brom shared the last time he came to see Oromis and I. But the Serena he describes wasn't a heartless woman. Brom fell in love with a kind, generous and caring woman. She made sacrifices to protect Morzan's spawn or you. She had dreams obviously and love to share. I can't tell you more, because it would be lies or wide guesses" shared Glaedr, one of his last links to Brom with Saphira.

She didn't comment more, just shared some comfort and kept flying peacefully over the silent hills and cliffs while Eragon slowly digested the words coming from Glaedr.

Daenerys' dragon also seemed to understand that tonight wasn't for them to interrupt. Tonight, wasn't a time to play, or to learn. Tonight, it was about the calm before the storm.

When Daenerys opened her eyes, she felt tempted to remain a bit longer in her warm and comfy bed. It was hard to leave the comfort offered by furs and to get in the cold. Each day was colder than the previous one. But as usual, she remembered the task laying ahead of her and she was quick to leave the warmth offered by her bed and to ready herself. Missandei would usually be waiting on the other side, waiting to be invited and to join her, to help her with her dress and to braid her hair.

Within minutes, she was ready to start her day. She preferred to take her breakfast outside of her room. Sometimes, someone would come and eat with her, like Tyrion, Varys or Olenna. The last name brought a pang to her chest, at the loss of the blunt elderly woman.

Eragon had also shared a few moments with her, but since the battle against the Lannister, their exchanges had been strained. It was a difficult situation, that weighted on her mind.

She felt more alone than she had had been in a long time. She remembered with fondness the hours spent together, flying over the island with the dragons. These moments would forever remain in her memory. She had scarcely felt as free and happy as she had been during these stolen hours.

And she started to understand his words. He hadn't lied. He never had. But he was so infuriating sometimes, with his manners and decisions. But she couldn't start to comprehend what this bond with her dragons would bring.

With time, she could feel her bond change, deepening. Drogon's disapproval had hit her hard, and now, they felt her sadness. Her own progresses for now, had come to a stop with the lack of lessons with Eragon. But at least Saphira was here and her children could fly with her. She was happy the blue dragon hadn't stopped helping her three dragons. Their flying had also improved, they had more energy and seemed to use the winds more efficiently, if such a thing was possible?

But they felt her sadness and somehow, she felt their own sadness. It was confusing. She let her gaze wander outside, watching the plains of Dragonstone. From one of the windows of the castle, she saw Saphira flying high in the sky. Eragon must have woken up earlier than usual.

Following her gaze, Missandei broke the silence that had been present between the two women.

"Grey Worm told me they flew the whole night" explained her friend.

She was surprised by this admission. While she had seen him spend a few nights close to Saphira, she had never seen him fly in the night, let alone the whole night. He must have frozen to death being so high in the air in the middle of the night. She knew from experience how cold it could be, even when the sun was high in the air.

She thanked Missandei before turning her back on the windows and finishing her small breakfast before tackling the several tasks of the day.

But it seemed her surprises weren't meant to stop today. After barely a few minutes of reading through some books, one of her guards interrupted her. She had wanted to read more about the Tarlys and the Lannister to understand the political ramifications of Randyll Tarly's execution if she hadn't been stopped. She was appealed by what she was reading. She had been very close to make something akin to a political suicide, which irked her even more, since she had been on the wrong, once more.

But her interior debate would have to be paused since Eragon wanted to talk to her. It surprised her since they didn't have any real talk in the past days and she hadn't heard anything that would change this. But she saw no reason to refuse to grant him access.

When he entered, it took all her efforts to keep a straight face. This wasn't the face someone was supposed to have after a whole night in the cold. His face was rested, clean. She supposed some magic must have been involved. But she saw that he wasn't his usual self. He was more reserved. His eyes were hard, like she had seen on many men before a battle.

He spoke first, and his voice carried confidence. There was no trembling, just the voice of a man who was clear in his mind.

"I received some news from the Wall. The dead are moving South" started Eragon.

She froze in place for a few seconds. This wasn't what she had expected to hear to start her day. Confused and taken off-guard, she was at a loss on what to ask him and yet, dozens of questions flooded her mind.

"How do you know" did she manage to ask after a long silence.

This wasn't what she had wanted to ask first, but she found her logic to be lacking today.

"Some of my friends went to the Wall with the wildlings. I've received news from them today," he replied curtly.

This was typical of him. He would always be completely honest and truthful but he had this way to remain in control of the information he would share, never sharing more than what was strictly necessary.

"And how is that you're the only one aware of this and not say, Varys for instance?" asked the young queen. She knew there was something off. Nevertheless, as always with Eragon, she knew there was little chance to get something out of him. It was so irritating. Sometimes after some time of reflexion when she was alone, she was able to understand part of his reasons. Not that she would admit it anytime soon. But she recognized it now. This was one of those moments where he wouldn't give room for negotiations. Like with Jaime Lannister, the Ancient Language or Randyll Tarly. And she was forced to recognize that most if not all of his choices made sense today.

"I can't tell you more. However, I guess that soon, every castle and keep from Westeros will receive news from the Wall informing them of this threat. But it doesn't bode well. The soldiers won't have the time to reach the Wall before the dead. If Lords decide to send soldiers obviously" finished Eragon with a hollow laugh.

"Didn't you mention something about politics and you not interfering?" questioned Daenerys.

"Being politically neutral is impossible, you know it as well as I do. But here, I'm not picking a side between two lords or two factions. I'm picking a side between the dead and the living. If you had felt what I did, you would understand" finished Eragon with a dark look.

"What will you do then?" asked the young woman.

"I will fly with Saphira to the Wall. We may stop at Winterfell though, we're not sure yet."

"And what about your prisoner?" enquired Daenerys, not managing to completely clear the anger from her voice. Said prisoner had been part of the reason of the coldness between them.

Eragon took a moment to answer but he answered nevertheless.

"Jaime Lannister will come with me to the Wall. If there is a battle, he will be able to help and will be unable to escape given how isolated the North is. And if the dead aren't completely defeated in the coming battle, he might serve as an ambassador to convince Cersei Lannister, to get help the North severely lacks." replied Eragon.

"Is that a way to open Cersei's arms and to be welcomed as the one who liberated Jaime?" teased Daenerys, this time with clear amusement.

Eragon rolled his eyes before answering

"You're just testing me. I hope you know that this threat, if you decide to believe it, is more important than any throne. Saphira and I have felt the dead. This is more than a politic fight. This is a fight for freedom, a fight for the living. I'll be fighting to protect myself, Saphira, and all the loved ones I've left in Alagaësia and who could suffer tomorrow from my lack of actions today," deftly answered Eragon.

This was probably the most emotional speech she had heard from the Rider, and she would be lying if she said if she hadn't been moved by his words.

"You speak with passion"

"And is that a bad thing?" retorqued Eragon with a light smile.

Daenerys preferred to remain silent and to go in the direction of the window, letting her eyes wonder on the ocean, spreading indefinitely.

"I never expected that. As I child, I never wanted this. I dreamt of a cosy house with trees where sweet fruits would grow, a comfy room where we could gather to have an enjoyable and light meal with friends. But life is never how we expect it. I've been sold in exchange of an army for my brother's dream, and basically became a servant until the unthinkable happened. Dragons came back and I became a mother in the most extraordinary way. They offered me the strength I lacked before. And I guess I'm just looking to find my family's roots while trying to share to Westeros my childhood's dream," whispered Daenerys, her eyes lost on the horizon.

Eragon, who had heard most of this a few weeks ago remained silent; something she was grateful of. She didn't need to hear his pity.

"I guess I never expected how difficult it would be to simply help others here. In Essos, people were so grateful, and still are! And yet, people are afraid here, for actions I haven't done, for matters that are completely out of my hands," raged Daenerys before falling into a heavy silence.

Eragon broke his silence and she turned to face him

"Your frustration is understandable. Being compared to a father you haven't known isn't fair to you. So, you need to shield yourself from this. But not all the fault lies there. Westeros has just lived years of war for this throne. And you came into their country with dragons and a wish to conquer, with barely more reasons than the others. And hear me out before you say this is your blood right" he exclaimed, seeing her mouth opening to retort.

"Targaryen fought and conquered Westeros to start their legacy. The Baratheons fought and rallied Westeros to take the throne. What difference does it make? This is not for me to answer, this is just an argument." said Eragon pacifically.

"But some Kingdoms should have helped already! Take the North for instance: the Starks swore fealty to my family! They bent the knee and swore perpetual loyalty to my family. And here they are, with a newly crowned King in the North. I understand your arguments, but people talk about loyalty and honesty, and I find none of it" justified Daenerys

"Maybe you're right. Or perhaps people will say you're delusional and are clueless at politics? You'll find that the concept of perpetuity works very little between humans, "shared Eragon.

And Daenerys swore she saw a veil of regret on Eragon's eyes, who continued his explanations

"From what I understand, you earned your titles in Essos. You fought for the people in Essos. You made it your mission to give them back their freedom. If you want to earn Westeros, don't do it by asking people to obey rules agreed upon hundreds of years before. Do it by your own acts," finished Eragon.

Deep inside, she knew that he was right. As always added a small voice in her head. But she needed time. She had to take some time to think about this.

"I wish you the best of luck for your travel North then. I've got half a mind to go with you and see this threat. But I can't decide without talking with some people. And you've said it, if I were to move my armies, they wouldn't get there on time. You've also given me a lot to think, a perspective I've lacked until today," answered Daenerys, her eyes set on her new set of actions

Eragon gave her a light smile, before bowing and leaving the room, as silently as he had entered. And Daenerys was left in the complete silence to think about her future and the decisions she would take regarding Westeros.

Chapter Text

Their travel had been without any real troubles, except for long and cold nights in the middle of the North. Jaime Lannister had been a silent passenger, remaining deep in thoughts during most of their travel, occasionally asking a lone question here and there. He hadn't made any attempts to escape during the nights, preferring to stay close to the fires Saphira would make. He probably knew an escape wouldn't end well for him, having been warned once before their departure.

He wasn't as eager as his brother to be closer to the dragon, but he looked less scared of her than most. Eragon remembered Jaime had once tried to go solo against Drogon; so he didn't know if this lack of fear was madness or boldness. From what he had seen of the Lannister, it looked like a mix of both.

The two men had remained in a peaceful silent during most of the day. It suited Eragon just fine, who could prepare the coming battle with the Eldunaris and Saphira.

But like always, it was difficult to make a war plan if you couldn't see the battlefield, and now that they had felt the sheer number of dead spirits, they knew it would be impossible to kill them all. The answer laid in the middle of this enormous web. Once again, they would need to kill the leader if they wanted to win this war, where greater numbers opposed them.

Eragon and Saphira looked at the endless sea of snow laying in front of them. Nothing seemed to have changed at the Wall since their departure all these months ago. At yet, they could feel this now familiar dark presence looming behind the menacing white forest, weighting on their mind. It was the same feeling they had felt when facing Shruikan or to a lesser extent Durza. The feeling of facing an entity made of hate, destruction and constantly seeking death. But today, their enemy was invisible and greater in number. He didn't know what he preferred between either.

The power and magnitude of the army of the dead had slightly increased in the past few months and the cold surrounding the presence of the Night King tasted just like death. It horrified Eragon that they couldn't find the smallest amount of life behind this mass of death. The Night King had thoroughly erased every life that crossed the path of his gigantic army. Eragon never imagined he would feel such an emptiness one day. He remembered lessons with Oromis, where he would sit for hours, focusing on the movements of his environment, losing himself observing small ants. But now, he could only feel the void left after the passage of a merciless enemy. Even Helgrind or the Hadarac had felt livelier and the taste of death would pale in comparison to what laid North of him.

Nevertheless, their minds were constantly scrying this great fog, to feel and measure the advance of this silent but deathly enemy. All the experience accumulated from the several war veterans present at Eastwatch by the Sea meant little in the current situation. Nothing could help them to evaluate physically the enemy. There was no noise, no smoke and no movements to be seen in the distance. From the outside, the only thing that showed the advance was the constant drop of temperatures.

Eragon had prepared a few strategies while crossing the continent, but it was difficult to predict such a foe. However, they were no living or dead records that could offer any sensible comparison. Here again, they were thrown in the dark and would have to make up their strategies from scratch.

Their mental skills were the only tools available to measure the advance of the army of the dead. Sending scouts would be suicide and the wargs couldn't find any birds in the harsh cold. Which meant that Eragon and the elves were the eyes of the Wall. Saphira could have flown above the forest to find the army but he didn't completely trust the idea to send her above an army without any reinforcement available. Instead, she would fly South to assess the possible arrival of armies and reinforcements.

On his right, Blödhgarm was also facing the white wildness that was North of the Wall, which was now a complete No Man's Land. He had arrived, along with all the other elves which were in Winterfell and a delegation from the North. Mitsu's news had urged the elves to go North, to protect the Wall and to protect Eragon. Winterfell was now less guarded but they knew the risk of an attack was now minimal. As a last safety, the eggs had once gain been stored into their boat, with two elves guarding it. It was a painful remainder of the dangerousness of their mission and their critical situation. Their only safeguard here consisted of a boat and two dozen of people to protect it, for a continent which looked just as large as Alagaësia.

"Brush away these thoughts, you've done everything you could to protect the eggs and the Cast. Now, make sure you protect yourself" said Saphira seriously.

"And you?" teased Eragon

"I'm a dragon. No one will dare to hurt me" mocked Saphira

"All hail the mighty one, the untouchable" praised Eragon with a laugh.

Saphira grumbled good naturally, which caused the man around her to jump, frightened by her unexpected growling. Even after a few weeks, they still were easily startled by Saphira. But for Eragon, this was familiar sounds a source of comfort. In these moments, they were each other's rocks, a comforting presence in all the foreign place they had come across, in Westeros and Alagaësia.

He barely had time to be physically close to Saphira, let alone fly above the Northern landscapes. His days were spent just like the others in the middle of the snow and ice, which made these small moments close to her all the more rewarding.

Eastwatch by the Sea was buzzling with activities and the population in the castle had probably increased tenfold since their arrival all these weeks ago. Northerners but also Wildlings had filled this place, tasked by Jon to defend the Wall. A nice turn of events for the Wildlings if Eragon ever saw one.

Most of them could do nothing but wait for the battle, after the frenzy of the first few days. There was only so much a forge could host and many were left outside in the cold. They would train, man the Wall or remove the ever-falling snow. Otherwise, there was nothing they could do except wait, sleep and drink.

The Elves were also present, to defend the mighty icy magical structure. There was a sense of redemption coming from them, to rectify the mistakes of the past, an inheritance they had unknowingly carried through thousands of years in their collective memory. Contrary to their Westerosi allies, there hadn't been any shortage of activities for them. They had spent the past weeks reinforcing their wards, training soldiers and scrying the North. They had also felt the power of the enemy and knew that every ounce of energy stored could save their life later on.

The Eldunaris were quite helpful in that regard, and after all these weeks of sailing and their months of travels across Alagaësia, the energy stored in Aren and in their jewels was simply overwhelming. In a few months, Eragon had stored more energy inside his ring than Brom had done in sixteen years in Carvahal. Some of this energy was also added in his sword or in the several wards surrounding him and Saphira. But whenever Eragon thought he was ready, he remembered the pit of void surrounding the Night King and suddenly, the pool of energy waiting to be used in his ring looked almost disappointing.

Such an odd gathering was probably unheard of in Westeros and it made the interactions at Eastwatch by the Sea all the more interesting to watch. The only time Eragon had seen such a melting pot was at Urû'baen before the final siege.

The elves, without surprised, preferred to remain together but it wasn't unheard of to find one of them teaching a small group, usually wildlings. The latter didn't have any trouble getting smashed on the ground by a woman, something that irked much more the proud northerners.

Outside of these scoutings, they would help to the best of their capacities to the defence of the Wall. It wasn't easy, since the days were usually very short. As long as the sun was high in the sky, they would help the soldiers present, prepare the wall or watch the horizon. But once the night had fallen, the temperatures would drop and staying outside became painful and almost dangerous for most of them. Although Eragon didn't risk as much as the other men, it was still quite uncomfortable for him to stay outside. The cold penetrated through their thick layers of fur like cold steel. The only warm places at Eastwatch by the Sea were the forge, which ran non stop and Saphira. Unfortunately, both places weren't accessible for many and ultimately, all the men would gather at night in the common room of the castle which would remain crammed during the day and most of the night.

The close proximity between the men and the constant flow of alcohol during these long nights lessened the inhibitions of many and eased the small tension that existed between Alagaësian and Westerosi. Eragon took some pleasure discussing with the wildling who didn't bother with false pretence and lies. They spoke as openly, without any filters which suited him just fine. They respected strength and Eragon and Saphira had long earned their respect with their respective strengths.

They would talk about their lifestyle, their habits or their perfection of magic, even though Eragon would remain quite evasive on the latter. The more he discussed with them, the more he could find some similarity between them and the elves. The curiosity of some of his companions had also been sparked and more often than not, a few elves would join him during these conversations even though they would remain silent. This had first surprised Eragon at first, but he had quickly understood the sudden interest from Blödhgarm and his companions.

The whole lifestyle of the wildlings and the elves was built on respect towards nature. However, the elves considered and respected nature for its gifts while the wildlings considered it as a dangerous but worthy opponent. The perception was different, but the origin was the same.

The magic that some of these wildlings had -which were called wargs- was one of the last testimonies of the legacy of the elves. These people had a spark of natural power but had been left completely untrained. It reminded Eragon of Du Vrangr Gata and its members who had a spark of inheriting magic in their body but were left without any proper training.

Over the centuries, the wargs had concentrated their abilities on the possession of small animals, not a small feat in itself and the rest of their magic had faded away.

These small moments were quite appreciated by Eragon. In the middle of these people, he felt some sort of understanding. There was some mutual and genuine respect for each other. There was no hidden political agenda, no threats. There was a mutual understanding of two groups of people who had been forced to leave their house and would now fight to take it back.

After a few nights, Eragon woke up with a certitude. The enemy would be here tonight.

Chapter Text

Three long blasts indicated the presence of the first wights on the white field.

This battle would be completely different from most of the battles Eragon had experienced. As predicted by Jon, the battle would happen at night:

"The enemy won't wait out the storm, he brings the storm" had said the young man ominously.

The temperature had dropped dramatically the past hours and they could indeed feel a storm rising in the distance, but getting closer with each passing hour, bringing cold and death in its wake.

The faces of all the man surrounding him betrayed their fear, illuminated by the hundred small torches that had been lit. Few were able to keep a straight face in the light of the coming battle. No matter how thick their furs, Eragon could see the small shacking of their body.

There wouldn't be any speech tonight. The soldiers didn't need one. The stakes had never been higher for these men. They wouldn't fight to raid a castle or to win more lands for their lord. Tonight, they would fight for the survival of their families, for the freedom of their country. And he knew these men had thought hard the past day on this. Few had trained whereas many had preferred to spend the last hours sharing a drink, whispering in hushed tones or enjoy a quiet sunny albeit cold day.

Eragon didn't know how the battle would go. The Wall was crammed with people. They had discussed the different possibilities, imagined different fighting styles but they couldn't imagine what would happen, especially when their enemy didn't tire and would fight without faltering until the sun would rise. This was their only hope, their horizon on the verge of the coming battle.

In the meantime, the wights kept coming in and the dead were now completely covering the few yards remaining between the Wall and the edges of the forest. Behind, nothing could be seen except for a dark path of emptiness. And what had once been a wide plain of snow was now milling with unmoving dead walking soldiers. For some reasons, this unmoving picture looked colder than anything they had imagined before and he felt a sense of wrongness being there, so close to this. Saphira's instincts betrayed the same feeling of wrongness and danger and Eragon had since long learned to trust them.

But this was also the occasion for Eragon and Saphira to have their first look at the enemy. They had tracked them for so long and heard about them for even longer that their curiosity had been picked.

Saphira was the first to break the mental silence that had taken place between them in the past minutes.

"They smell like nothing" commented Saphira "Silent, not making a sound, unmoving, tasteless. What is this new enemy Eragon?" asked the dragon. He couldn't find any fear or doubt in her tone, just the curiosity of a hunter that had encountered a new prey.

She was wearing her new armor, that Eragon had enchanted during their travel; Black and magic resistant, it left barely any space for arrows to reach a weak point on Saphira. She was currently hidden behind the Wall, watching the fields through her Rider's eyes. For some reason, the dead had only spread over a few hundred feet, exactly in front of Eastwatch by the Sea.

"I don't know. Be careful please" he replied, also trying to decipher what he was seeing. But it was difficult to understand anything from this ocean of limbs, torn apart, rotten, with bones pocking at such a distance.

Her blue eyes settled on him, four hundred feet below and he could feel all her love through her gaze.

There seemed to be some activity on the other side of the Wall since all the men started to whisper nervously. Below, the army had apparently woken up and was moving, creating a small path where one character was currently walking. Eragon recognised the Night King from Jon's description and from the power he spread. He knew it would be pointless to hit him with an arrow, due to winds, and the giants that would shield him but unconsciously, he felt his hands tighten on the grip on Brisingr.

All across the Wall, a few men -those was recognised the Night King- tensed, unable to do anything but to watch him. To reach him with an arrow at such an

Because the wights were keeping their distance from the Night King, thus creating a small empty space around him, it was easy for Eragon and the elves to keep track on him and to have a good look on him.

Whereas dragons were fire made flesh, he looked like the definition of ice made flesh. He had a humanoid stature and wore an armor – that fitted him perfectly and was in pristine condition- perfectly intertwined with ice. He would pass for a soldier if it wasn't for his blue skin and his crown that seemed to be a part of him. His appearance was deathly, just like Galbatorix had been and just looking at him made Eragon cold.

But the elves and some of the seniors or the Northerner army were mostly curious about the lack of movement from the zombies. Both were aware of the presence of the other group and they had expected a frontal assault as soon as the night had started. They had expected to remove zombies who wanted to climb on the wall as soon as the last rays of the sun had disappeared. However, night had completely fallen and the dead were still frozen in place, having stopped their advance long minutes ago. For now, they were looking ahead, blankly, their only movements being done to offer some room to their leader.

Nevertheless, this lack of actions wasn't necessarily a bad thing since the blizzard had gotten more intense and many were struggling against the wind atop the massive structure. Even though their armor was light, Eragon and the elves didn't necessarily suffer from the cold with the spells around them. It made movements all the more easier. But Eragon couldn't afford to think on the weight of his armor or the cold created by the wind. At the moment, all his attention was turned towards the Night King.

The next actions would prove how easy it was for plans to go awry. Before they could think more of the absence of actions, he saw the Night King bring a small item on his lips. Automatically, Eragon strengthened the grip around his sword. He knew what was coming. In a moment, the Night King would start a long night of fighting.

All their bows were ready were ready to hit the wights as soon as it would start. They were waiting for the signal from their Master. There was no way they'd be able to force and dig a hole in the wall so there only possibility was to climb. At this distance, he didn't expect to hear a loud noise and there was no recount of any form of speech. Surprisingly, no sound came from the horn but Eragon wished there had been.

Within a few seconds, hundreds if not thousands of small zombies started to climb on the Wall in an inhuman frenzy. There was no coordination, just an unstoppable desire to kill. They were pushing each other to be the fastest, the first to kill.

But more than this sudden and harsh invasion, what shocked Eragon the most were the vibrations he felt coming from the Wall's defences. And by the shocked looks on the elves' faces, they too had felt it.

They hadn't been able to hear anything from the horn, but they had felt the huge hit it had made of the numerous wards of the Wall. The majority of the old and powerful magical defences which stood around the wall and been obliterated in a second, destroyed by the powerful artefact the Night King had found. In a split second, all their plans had been turned around and the Army of the Dead had taken a significant advantage.

Suddenly, Eragon understood what the purpose of these old wards were. He had imagined that they were meant to keep the structure tall and to keep it from melting, if hot temperatures reached this far North. But the real purpose of the wards, which had now almost completely disappeared, was to provide a magical defence and to prevent the Army of the dead to cross the Wall. This was the reason behind the wight's passiveness moments ago. They had been magically prohibited to climb the structure. And now, most were gone on a large radius.

But Eragon couldn't think more of the magical properties of the wall because the wights were starting to get higher and higher. He could see some of them falling but contrary to normal humans, the wouldn't be fatal. The wights would always recover and start their climbing once more. It was completely unnatural, a twist of magic the likes of Galbatorix had done to prevent his soldiers to feel pain. The small fires Saphira had lit up hours before were mostly out, just enough to illuminate the ghostly face of the solider, who were slowly starting to understand the unnatural they were fighting. In the distance, Eragon got a look on Jaime Lannister and Randyll Tarly. Neither had been able to keep a straight face keep blown away by the unnatural blizzard and it was more and more difficult to watch ahead.

They didn't have enough arrows for each of them and they would be unable to retrieve them. Saphira couldn't risk breathing on them, out of fear of damaging the wall. Eragon didn't see any escape at the moment but he knew he'd have to fight, probably during the whole night.

"Stay safe little one" whispered Saphira through their bond.

"Always" replied Eragon, taking the opportunity to share a last bonding moment with his partner.

The first wights were already halfway through their climbing but no orders had been given yet. All were waiting for Jon to give the order, to decide on the course of action. He didn't look afraid, but he was deep in thoughts, watching the progress wights with his grey eyes. He lifted his head and he faced his man.

"Spears on the ready!" exclaimed Jon.

Eragon's eyes widened as he understood Jon's idea. The Northerner had reached the same conclusion as Eragon about their lack of ammunitions. He was trying to spare as much dragonglass as possible. And so, he was trying to destroy wights the moment they would cross the Wall. This tactic would mean that the men would only get one free shot the kill their enemy. If they missed, the wights would cross the border and be on an equal footing. However, if the men managed to hit true, they would save some of their precious ore. Absently, he noticed the Night King taking a few steps back, surrounded by several White Walkers, and going back to the edges of the forest.

Many of the soldiers and Brothers of the Night's Watch had understood Jon's idea and looked quite uncomfortable. Their hands were shacking around their spears while the wights kept their restless climb. Everyone was now able to see the skeletons, with flesh hanging on their side, mouth open, excited by the desire to maim and kill.

They had a quick pace, looking undisturbed by the unnatural cold coming from the Wall on their exposed flesh.

Eragon gripped Brisingr as he readied himself. Suddenly, the quietness of the Wall was broken by two dozen of wights reaching the top of the Wall. The corpse in front of Eragon probably had belonged to a wildling in another lifetime. He wore tattered furs which had seen better days and the remaining of a sword. Most of his face was gone and he could clearly see the bones from his arms and chest. But the most unsettling part were the blue eyes, staring at him emotionlessly.

Before his mind fully registered what he was seeing, his right arm moved automatically and pierced the corpse standing a few feet below him. Immediately, the light in his eyes disappeared and he fell hundreds of feet to never rise again. The men around him followed his lead very quickly, and the vast majority of the first wave fell to never move again. A few corpses even managed to bring down some wights in their fall.

But two lonely managed to cross the top and immediately jumped on the closest people. However, they were quickly put down before any harm was done, and the two soldiers who had missed their hit escaped unharmed, but pretty shocked from what they had seen up close. However, they didn't have the time to celebrate their success because the second wave was already on them, with more wights, pressing to overwhelm them. The spears and swords started to move again, a movement they would keep doing tirelessly during the next hours, striking more and more dead, pining them

It was an endless task, and they were unable to see the end of it. Eragon soon dropped his spear to use Brisingr, with which he had more room for movements. His sword kept cutting through wights who never managed to get past him a single time. He quickly noticed that he didn't need to purr magic into the blade to kill them. The brightsteel and Rhunön's craftmanship were enough to get past their defences and wards, which alleviated Eragon from his worry and allowed him to keep his energy.

Soon, Eragon lost track of time. His concentration was completely dedicated to the small portion of Wall in front of him. Losing his focus for a split second would be enough to let half a dozen of these wights cross the border and they couldn't afford it.

In the middle of the blizzard, a long cry erupted in the night, catching his attention. Eragon saw a lone man fell from the Wall. He was surprised and horrified to see four wights freely jump from the Wall to follow the poor northerner who has fallen. He didn't know how this situation had happened but, in that split second, five wights had jumped and were starting to make some damages around them on the soldiers who were starting to tire. Unfortunately, the men were overwhelmed and had troubles defending both the wights climbing and those already on top. The soldiers were unable to stop the flow. Unlashing some magic to dispel the wights close to him, Eragon and two elves fired a dragonglass arrow to help.

All landed but it wasn't enough. Their arrows had offered a few seconds of respite but already more wights were bursting through the small hole in the defence. But before Eragon could fire another arrow, Jon jumped into the pack of wights and with a few parries with his longsword he was able to quickly dispel them and to bring back the situation under control at this small portion of the Wall.

But they knew that such an occurrence was bound to happen, rather soon than later at another point, except perhaps the places defended by Eragon and the elves. It looked like the men would have to pray that either Jon, Eragon, Jaime Lannister or anyone rather skilled with his sword would be able to help like it had just been the case.

They could feel the balance of the battle slowly shifting and they were helpless to change it. The situation was starting to get out of control, and Eragon felt hesitant to use some magic. He didn't know the exact nature of the wards present here and even with The Word, he couldn't afford to meddle with the wards in the middle of a battle, especially one where they could be overwhelmed by the numbers in mere seconds. The battle of Urû'baen had taught them the danger of trying this. Already he had left his position twice to help some men, burning and hacking some wights who had crossed the perimeter of the Wall. Each occurrence was taking longer to solve and each time, more damages were done.

The Night King who hadn't made a move since the use of his Horn stood at the edge of the forest, watching emotionlessly the climb of his minions. They might have killed thousands of them, but it was barely a dent in his army

Maybe he hadn't expected their defences, or perhaps he knew that if nothing changed, they would be unable to resist more than a day, two at most and he was willing to make those sacrifices. He had the advantage of numbers and his army didn't suffer from the pain, the cold or tiredness.

Unless something happened, they wouldn't be able to keep up like this more than a few hours. And if they wanted to survive this war, each and every one of them would need to kill hundreds if not thousands of wights and only then would there be some way for them to equilibrate the balance of numbers.

It was at this time Saphira decided to make her presence known. She had been absent from the fights since they had been in the dark concerning the strategy of the Army of the Dead. They hadn't wanted to let her burn the whole Wall and to make the whole structure crumble on itself, or to expose herself to thousands of dead archers.

But Saphira had decided otherwise. With a mighty roar, the blue dragoness was high in the air, ascending to reach Eragon's altitude. The men jumped in fright but were quick to turn back to the fight, with a renewed energy. The wights on the other hand, remained completely unfazed by this sudden irruption, their mind completely focused on their single objective

The whole scene looked unreal. Saphira, cladded in a deep rich black armor stood only a few feet away from Eragon. Time had stopped between them, and for a split second, they escaped the battle, lost in their own mindset.

"My lady"

"Let's dance tonight Eragon. Let our blades and fire face off against the cold of the night" whispered Saphira dangerously, making the surrounding rumble. But none of this mattered for Eragon, lost in the blue eyes of Saphira who seemed alit with a renewed energy.

"Always. You have my heart my lady."

And without losing a second, he jumped on her back as she spread her wings open, ready to jump into the night.

At this point, Eragon and Saphira were only one, their minds completely intertwined. Paradoxically, it was during these moments that they were truly one. During these thrilling moments, in the middle of battles, Eragon truly felt whole with Saphira.

"Argetlam, this is too dangerous, we don't know what unique magic they could use!" started Blödhgarm who had witnessed the whole scene.

"I won't be alone, Saphira is with me, and most of the Eldunaris too" explained Eragon

"Let me be your shield in that case" replied Blödhgarm without losing a second.

"What do you think Saphira?" asked Eragon quickly

"He's right, I can handle another one, and he's used to dragon flying; It wouldn't hurt" she replied quickly, her head turned North, watching the ocean of wights waiting to climb the Wall.

Eragon nodded to the elf who was quick to jump on Saphira's back. There was no more time to lose. With their absence, the Wall would be even more vulnerable and they knew they would be unable to stop the climb of those already on the Wall.

With no time to lose, Saphira took some height to quickly assess the situation. It was bad. The entire plain and the Wall were covered by wights. It looked like a disease, spreading all over the place. What had once been a stronghold now looked like a sick institution, on the verge of collapsing.

More and more of the wight were on the Wall, endless waves crashing against the thin line of defence atop the structure. The motto of the Wall, the shield of the Realm, had probably never been so true.

This scenario repeated itself on a large distance, at least a hundred yards. This was the section where the magical defences of the Wall had been broken by the Horn.

Saphira dived in the direction of the ground, eager to kill as many of these unnatural creatures. Opening her giant maw, flames started to erupt and to burn many of them without offering them a chance to escape.

There weren't only humans in this sea of horrors. He recognised in between wolves, bears and creatures he had never seen before. But he had no time to think further on that, his whole attention was turned on his surroundings, to make sure nothing would be able to hurt Saphira or himself. So far, it was going well since they had no means no attack in the air but he wouldn't relax until the night was over or the battle stopped.

However, from the corner of his eyes, he saw movements in the edge of the forest.

"White Walkers" supplied Umaroth mentally. "They're more than simple dead. We need to treat carefully around those" he added with a calculating tone.

And Eragon had to agree with the elf's statement. The closer his mind got to them, the closer he was from the centre of the web. Many ridges of this impressive mind structure joined on these White Walkers. They looked more dangerous and more independent than the wights currently attempting to overwhelm the soldiers.

But Eragon was more concerned about the giant icy spear that one was carrying and bringing to the Night King. He had no doubt Saphira was the target and they wouldn't be taking any chance with it.

Blödhgarm had also seen it and both had their bows out. The storm was raging and they'd have to fuel magic in their arrows to go through it. Hitting one of those White Walkers would be impossible otherwise.

Channelling his magic, Eragon whispered a spell on his arrow before taking an aim. The White Walker was walking slowly, the spear in his left hand, making it easy to predict his movements.

Saphira was still making damages in the ranks of the dead, who were helpless to offer any resistance. A few giants had tried to raise their fists, to no avail. Their progress to climb were getting hindered by Saphira's flames, and the bottom of the Wall was now out of reach, blocked by a continuous column of flames. From above, the scene looked surreal, flames licking the melted ice, making it impossible to start the long climb. Eragon hoped that the damages atop the Wall were minimal. But he knew that if things became too difficult, one of the elves would be able to reach out to him.

Right now, his concentration was turned to the White Walker who was carrying the spear. He felt Blödhgarm also purring magic but like him, his arrow hadn't been released. It was a complicated balance between Saphira's harsh flying, the wind and the low vision, even with their enhanced sight. He carefully pulled the string and waited for the right moments, holding, ready to release his arrow at the right moment.

The movements he felt behind his back informed him that Blödhgarm was following the same pattern and adjusting to the same issues. Knowing the skill of the elf, they would likely release their arrows at the same time, at the earliest opportunity.

Only three things mattered for Eragon at this point: his position, the path of his arrow and the enemy.

Saphira kept alternating between straight lines, tight turns and dives. It was a ruthless and methodical destruction of all the beings standing below her.

It was a prowess in itself to remain seated while she flew in these hard conditions. She knew her Rider was trying to fire an arrow and with the way their mind were bounded, it was almost as if she was aiming too. Eragon could predict the way she would move and she could see the path the arrow would take.

Finally, after a harsh turn, they found an opportunity. During a split second, a small opening appeared between all the enemies. They had a clear vision between Saphira's back and their targets. Eragon and Blödhgarm immediately released the tension accumulated between their fingers and the arrow left their bow. Their bowstring shook and they could hear the arrow fly against the wind.

The strain on his magic was more important than what he had expected. Their arrows flew against the wind, which was also probably fuelled by some ancient magic, in the direction of the two mysterious creatures who had made no move to avoid them.

The whooshing sound rang in the dead of the night, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. The gaze of the Night King seemed to widen as he found the origin of the noise and followed the path of the arrows. With inhuman speed, he made a quick sidestep, avoiding by a few inches Blödhgarm's arrow, which had been directed to his head and which ended its course on the bark tree just behind.

Eragon's arrow on the other hand hit true. Fuelled by his magic, it flew from his bow to finish its path in the White Walker's ribs. The effect was instantaneous. The humanoid elder made of ice stopped dead in tracks and, after a split second, exploded in a thousand pieces of ice. This light explosion wasn't that far from what he remembered from Durza's death.

The most surprising part came immediately after. All the small strings which had been attached to this White Walkers also seemed to disappear instantaneously, which seemed to cause the end of a few hundreds of wights who crumbled on themselves. Both Eragon and Blödhgarm saw the dead-horse which had been carrying the White Walker fall in a puddle of bones and dead flesh without any apparent reason.

"They're linked to one master, and if it dies, they all die with him!" exclaimed Eragon with some wonder.

"Well, we have to kill the centre and everything will be over then" retorted Saphira, after another wave of flames which disintegrated a few dozens of wights who has been too slow to avoid her.

But Saphira's sound advice would have to wait before being tested. With the death of one of his lieutenants, there seemed to be a change in the Night King's mind. Before Eragon could adjust his aim to fire a second arrow, the Night King raised his right hand.

The spectacle that followed was as breath-taking as it was terrifying. In an almost perfect coordination, all the dead still living in the plains stopped their advance and ran in the direction of the wood. The Night King led the way and in a split second, he was gone, hidden in the darkness provided by the trees.

There was no need for him to wait to make sure his orders had been passed. They obeyed him mindlessly and true enough, the whole army followed his order in a mesmerising choreography.

The most extraordinary part came from the wights who were in the middle of their long climb of the Wall. Without any exception, they all jumped from where they stood, oblivious to the hundred feet fall. This left Eragon speechless, who could do nothing but watch, as they seemed to jump fearlessly. A rain of corpse started without any warning at Eastwatch by the Sea. In the middle of this horrifying rain, Eragon was pretty sure he caught sign of one or two Brothers of the Night's Watch who had been killed in the past few hours and resurrected during the battle.

Saphira had also stopped moving, captivated by what she was seeing and the lack of danger. Remaining high, they were on the front row to assist to this madness.

Coming back to her sense, she dived for a last time in the direction of the fleeing wights, to have a last go and kill as many of them while the Army of the Dead was retreating back in the obscurity of the forest.

"This makes sense but also goes against everything we've ever seen" concluded Umaroth, trying to summarize what they had just witnessed.

Saphira was flying back to the top of the Wall with the Sun rising on their left. The first night was over and the Wall and Eastwatch by the Sea had survived it. But they knew it was only the start. The Night King had been toying with them, probing their defences. All the elves had felt the power that had remained behind, lurking in the darkness. The Night King could probably go on for another dozen nights like this but they couldn't and there lie the crux of the problem

Jumping from Saphira's back, Eragon and Blödhgarm reached the safety of the ground. The night was over and they had survived.

Chapter Text

The damages were more important than what they had expected. When Eragon had left the Wall on Saphira's back, the situation had been dire.

Now, with a few hours of sleep and after few discussions with Jon and his friends, he truly understood how close the lines standing on the top had been to collapse. Moments after Eragon and Blödhgarm had left on Saphira's back, the wights had reached the top of the Wall with numbers never seen before. Only the help of the elves and Saphira's flaming barricade had prevented the happening of a disaster.

Still, dozens had lost their lives during the fights and all the men were tired. But they all knew that the fight wasn't over and that the war had only started. In a few hours, the Army of the Dead would strike again and they would face off the enemy once again, perhaps in greater numbers and with less ammunitions and soldiers.

Eragon was also anxious and worried about the balance of force present at the battle. His concern was motivated by some small aspects of the battle that not many had noticed and yet stood at the forefront of his mind. He was primarily concerned about the horn the Night King had used. The wards of the Wall had been blasted apart and he was afraid to think about the outcome of another blast. The Night King would probably recuperate enough to try it once more tonight and Eragon feared the consequences of it.

This fear was behind the rushed meeting between all the Alagaësian at a small portion of the Wall not far from Eastwatch by the Sea but untouched by the actions from yesterday. Helped by the Eldunaris, they were currently studying the structure of the wards present to understand their effects and how they were able to prevent the crossing of the wights. Eragon had theorised that if the wards were specifically designed to stop the wights then they might uncover some words of the Ancient Language related to these creatures and use the Word to help them.

It was a difficult task and they were clearly lacking time. The wards were millennials old and the people who had created those were as different from him than he was from Saphira.

Eragon just hoped to be able to power a ward strong enough to stop or at least decrease the effects of the next blast. They couldn't afford to let the Wall collapse on them. Already, soldiers were retreating in the direction of Winterfell and all the castle from the Wall were being deserted. They wouldn't be caught unaware by an attack South. Eastwatch by the Sea was the last bastion of resistance that was stopping the Army of the Dead from invading Westeros.

Finally, they had also lost the effect of surprise created by Saphira yesterday.

The Night King would be a fool to let his army wait idly in front of the Wall. while a dragon could easily reduce said army to ashes without any risks. And while the wights lacked all form of strategy and care, this wasn't the case of their leader.

Overall, the only positive aspect they had discovered was the death of hundreds of wights when Eragon's arrow had killed a White Walker. They had theorized this possibility but since they had never encountered such a case, they hadn't be sure. Now, they were fixed and would try their best to kill Wight Walkers or even the Night King, knowing the positive impact of such a kill.

Sooner than what they had wanted, the night started to fall and the wind rose. It wasn't a blizzard but they knew it was only a matter of time before it came on them full strength, freezing their bodies to the bones and reducing their visibility to the very minimum.

The men around him were shivering, from the cold but also from the fear. He noticed that many kept looking down, where the marks of the previous battle were apparent for all to see.

The whole Wall was filled with bones and fragments of the army of the Dead, stuck in the ice. The once shiny and spotless wall now looked dark and oppressing. Blood was also present, mixed in the snow and the ice. The white and blue structure was now tainted in red and brown, enhancing the lock of sickness which had started to appear yesterday.

The losses from yesterday were obvious both in the presence of the gore but also from the absence of those who only yesterday were still fighting by their side. Some of them would be on the other side of the battle tonight, controlled by an abomination.

Night was falling but there still wasn't any sign of the dead. He knew they were hidden in the forest, not far from the edges. But going above with Saphira would be far too dangerous, since he would be unable to dodge any frozen spear in time. And since he had felt the power of the horn, Eragon wasn't taking any chance. There was something dangerous and deathly with these items and he didn't know if they caried another powerful weapon.

Their aim wasn't to kill the enemy tonight. Their aim was to hold it off, to give another day of respite to Westeros. Each day was another day of mining, of soldiers moving to defend the North and arrows being crafted. Eragon knew that hundreds of crows were flying across the continent to ask for help.

And after the first night, they knew help would be needed. Help provided by Daenerys, Cersei, Winterfell and whoever wanted to save this place. Eragon had caught sign of Jaime Lannister who had survived the night. The expression on his face proved that the knight had reached the same conclusion. The night would be tiring and it probably would only be the second of many to come. Their only hope to end the war tonight was to kill the leader of the Army of the Dead, the Night King.

Said leader had just started to emerge from the forest, alone. The elves and Eragon were able to clearly distinguish the small horn he was holding in his right hand. There wasn't anything particular about it but they all knew the power behind it.

Immediately, they all pulled an arrow and prepared to fire. Eragon didn't want to miss an opportunity like this and fuelled his arrow with magic. Using the Word, his arrow should be able to pierce any ward put in place.

After a few steps, the Night King stopped and lifted his arm to bring the horn to his lips. This was all they needed. In perfect synchronisation, the elves and Eragon released the tension and fired their arrow in his direction. About a dozen flew in his direct, each with a deadly accuracy.

It must have been a sight, to watch this scene unfold from above. Twelve arrows had been fired at the exact same time, in the same direction from twelve distinct points, split all over the bastion of Eastwatch by the Sea. All of them were converging at a great speed on the Night King, who stood only a few feet away from the limit of the forest. Fuelled by magic, nothing seemed to be able to stop their progress.

Before said arrows could reach their target, the Night King raised his left hand, creating a huge blast of wind. Most surprisingly, the magic fuelled inside the arrows wasn't enough and many were now harmlessly flying in another direction. However, Eragon's arrow looked unfazed by this magical interference and continued its deathly path. But before it could finish its run, the Night King moved with inhuman speed and jumped out of the way of the arrow before blowing the horn in front of a group of surprised elves and humans who had silently observed this attack.

The whole scene had only taken a few seconds, but it was already a hard blow for the Wall.

Before any could react and lament their lost opportunity, they felt the consequences of the Night King's actions. The whole Wall shook, moved by a powerful and ancient force. Many screamed, surprised by this sudden and unexpected awakening. Huge chunks of ice cracked and some fell in a deafening noise.

The remaining wards had been destroyed and only Eragon's recent addition had prevented the Wall from collapsing on itself right away.

The stare of the Night King was murderous, angry by his lack of success, but he lacked the energy to pull another stunt like that tonight. But they knew tomorrow would be the end of the Wall if they managed to survive the night. Only a miracle would be enough to stop it from happening.

Swiftly and silently, the Night King retreated back to the forest. There was nothing they could do at this point, except waste their arrows on him. Eragon could hear the desolations from the Night's Watch filled with some hope. Some were probably expecting that the fights for the night were done since the Wall was still standing and that they had won without fighting.

Even though it pained him to admit it, Eragon had to concede that the power he released was impressive. There was no doubt left in Eragon's mind that this adversary was much more powerful than Durza.

And then, silence came back. The deep grumble coming from Wall had stopped but cracks now littered the whole structure and the men looked uneasy on it. However, he saw the tension leaving some of their shoulders. They probably expected a quiet night since the Night King's plan appeared to have failed.

Their hope would be shattered soon enough.

Their only warning was a sudden roar. It was something wild, a scream from death itself, powered by millennials old winters. Immediately after, thousands of wights emerged from the forest, running madly in the direction of the Wall in a frightening controlled incoordination.

The strategy of the Night King had changed overnight. He had seen Eragon's rebuttal to fly over the forest and had decided to keep his army there, sending waves after waves. And since his soldiers didn't tire, they could cross the small distance in a few seconds, with their only fear being Saphira's fire when she was circling, which wasn't the case at the moment.

The wight also seemed to climb the Wall quicker than a day ago. Filled with bones and cracks, they had plenty of grips they didn't have the night before. Eragon knew many of the men atop Wall would have been filled with dread to use bones as grips. Unfortunately for them, their opponents didn't seem to have such qualms.

"Spears on the ready" screamed Jon, his voice cutting into the night.

The men quickly followed but they started to whisper nervously between them, afraid by this new strategy and their apparent inability to stop the wights until it was too late.

"Where's the dragon!" screamed one man fearfully.

More men voiced a similar statement, questioning the Saphira's absence but Eragon left their question unanswered. Now wasn't the time, with the wights only a few seconds away from their blades.

Saphira was currently a few hundred feet away, hidden from the enemies. They didn't want the Night King to feel her and she would attack like yesterday, when the situation would be critical. This decision had annoyed her greatly but she had understood their reasons and Eragon knew Glaedr had had words with her.

Their latest upgrade on the Wall seemed to be paying dividends. A hundred men had spent all the afternoon working on the Wall filling the surface of the structure with hundreds of small shards of dragonglass. Already they could see dozens of wights falling, dead before they had even reached the ground, after some part of their decayed body had brushed one of these hidden fragments.

Soon enough, they started to hack, cut and pierce through hundreds of wights. Too many still managed to finish their climb unharmed. They had fallen into a deadly rhythm and Eragon's part of the Wall was kept relatively safe. But the same couldn't be said for the others.

All over the top of the Wall, people were screaming, begging for help, overwhelmed by wights who kept coming back, tirelessly. Something would have to be done quickly. He froze when he saw that the wights were also starting to go through the ice at the bottom of the wall. He couldn't assess their progress but it was a risk they couldn't take. He also noticed that monsters were also trying the dangerous climb. Ice spiders, bigger than horses, were frightfully fast to climb. Their eights legs pierced the ice which offered them a solid grip and made it impossible for them to fall. It was only the timely intervention of the elves who managed to stop them with a well-placed arrow that was preventing a disaster from happening. Should one of them manage to reach the top, the consequences would be disastrous.

After a few hours of fighting, Blödhgarm was next to him seconds before Saphira arrived. This time, there was no point to protest. The presence of the elf would be valuable to protect Saphira from the Night King. She appeared only a few seconds later, robed in her dark armor, her eyes reflecting the fire that was burning inside of her.

There wasn't a second to lose for them and they immediately jumped on her back, perfectly evaluating the jump, making the whole transition look smooth and effortless.

Without losing any second, Saphira resumed her deathly ballet. She was an artist and fire was her tool. Each of her flames was spit with a deadly accuracy. The wights stood no chance to escape her and the fields standing at the bottom of the Wall quickly became a giant and deathly work of art. It was a breath-taking craftsmanship.

Since the Night King was nowhere to be seen, she kept alternating between straight lines, half-turns and what looked like hazardous turns. They would be helpless to see him throw a javelin in Saphira's direction. During this attack, she never stopped breathing fire, turning to ashes thousands of monsters and slowly giving some hope to the soldiers.

During one of those sharp turns, Eragon froze. Saphira also felt something disturbing and almost burnt a whole section of the Wall in this split second of distraction. She managed to correct her path just in time, her right wing almost touching the surface of the Wall.

They had heard something they hadn't planned, something that shouldn't be possible: the unmistakable sound of a thunder of dragons. The dragons weren't very far and would reach the Wall in a few seconds.

Without losing a second, Saphira immediately left the battlefield and went in the direction of her pack. Because they had recognised the dragons who were coming. Four were coming in their direction, with one being covered in a leather armor. There was no time to lose and they couldn't afford to let Daenerys go into the battle unsupervised, especially with the threat of the Night King. Because indeed, Daenerys Targaryen had come with her three dragons to the Wall.

After a few seconds, they had met with Daenerys and her three dragons South of the Wall. The difference couldn't be more pronounced. Eragon and Saphira looked regal, covered in shining armor, with a sword bloodied hanging at his side. Saphira's nostrils were still pouring smoke and her eyes were burning with passion. On the other hand, Daenerys wore her usual attire, with furs while her dragons didn't have any protection. But there was no time to lose, and each cry coming from the Wall reminded them of that fact.

"I don't have much time; the battle is on the go and we can't afford to lose more time. The army of the dead is hidden in the forest on the other side of the wall. If they want to reach the wall and start climbing it, they need to pass on a small space where they can't hide. with nothing on it. With Saphira, we try to burn the waves of dead while they try to cross, since we can't burn them during their climbing" explained Eragon to Daenerys who was slowly nodding as he spoke, observing the Wall and probably imagining what was happening on the other side.

"Can I help you with this?" asked Daenerys

"If you remain safe, nothing should be able to harm your dragons. But stay as far as possible from the forest and don't fly over it, "replied Eragon quickly.

'Why is that?"

"The Night King is more powerful than anything you've probably ever faced. He's now hidden in the forest but has weapons strong enough to harm or kill dragons. Don't take any risks with him,"

Daenerys nodded and her face was set in a mask of intense concentration. For the first time, he noticed that someone else had remained silent at her back. He had never seen him nor met but now wasn't the time to question his presence. He was here on his own violation; he could question her later.

"Follow my lead please. My aim is for us to survive the night, remember it," concluded Eragon.

With the back of his mind, he noticed that Saphira was taking the lead of her pack, making sure that no one of Daenerys' dragon would question her authority after a month of absence. She seemed satisfied by what she saw and felt.

"For now, fly close to Saphira and burn those under while they cross to reach the Wall. But make sure you don't touch the structure. I fear its collapse might happen rather sooner than later."

Opening his mind to the Eldunaris, Eragon asked them to receive some energy. No matter the enemy, he wasn't taking any chance with her three dragons. Noticing their approval, he quickly powered some wards around the three dragons and Daenerys. Yesterday, Eragon had been lucky enough to remain unscarred from the fights but he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if the worst were to happen because he had been hesitant to protect them.

After a few moments, the task was done. Daenerys probably thought he had been lost in thoughts and he wouldn't try to correct her for the time being. Receiving his mental nod, Saphira turned North. With a mighty roar, she flew in the direction of the dead who had grown in number, taking advantage of the absence of the dragon.

Three roars answered her call and hell broke free on Eastwatch by the Sea. In the middle of this sea of death and ice, four dragons were bringing destructions and fire. Four powerful jets of flames erupted from their jaws and charred the ground under them. Hundreds of wights were immediately burnt to crisp.

This was a sight to behold. Saphira, fully armoured, was surrounded by Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion and were methodically burning the ground, in straight lines, from one side of Eastwatch to the other. Blue, red, black and green jets of flames were licking the ground and erasing everything that stood on it. There was nothing the dead could do to avoid the blasts of flames. If they were to leave the forest, they were signing their death warrant.

Eragon thought he heard the soldiers cheering from their apparition but in the middle of the storm, it was difficult to judge. But the number of wights starting the long climb had drastically decreased.

After a few seconds, Saphira stopped and immediately took some altitude. Eragon was pleased to see the three dragons following close behind. He also noticed Daenerys' face, white like snow. She had witnessed for the first time the true reality of the Army of the Dead and was coming to reality with it.

But her fear was hidden behind a mask of concentration. It was too late, or too soon to freak out now. She'd have plenty of time once the battle was over but for now, they couldn't afford to lose their focus in the middle of the battle.

They saw another wave emerging from the forest, bigger than the previous ones. He nodded to Daenerys, who nodded back. Saphira waited a few more seconds, to let the wights reach the middle of the now burnt plain before diving, her jaw already open before they had even reached the correct altitude.

It was a slaughter and the dead stood no chance. Those who escaped Saphira's flames were picked up by Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion. But this new wave seemed to never stop, leaving the dragons unable to leave if they didn't want to let the man above be overwhelmed.

This didn't deter them and the dragons continued their deathly and pyrotechnic ballet, working in perfect synchronization. However, he noticed some movements on the forest and Eragon's eyes widened in realisation. The Night King had kept them busy enough to aim. He stood at the edges of the forest, with his arm in extension, ready to throw a javelin.

And this time, they wouldn't be able to strike him before. Too late, he saw the javelin leave his hand, in Saphira's direction before quickly moving to escape the arrows launched from top of the wall. None reached true.

But Eragon couldn't care less about this. His attention was turned on the frozen weapon thrown in their direction, closing the distance very quickly.

"Saphira, straighten up!" he screamed, from the top of his lungs and mind, knowing no magic would be able to help them in this situation.

She didn't question him and immediately went a few feet higher, bringing her legs close to her body. The deathly spear narrowly missed her belly.

But Viserion who stood a few paces behind Saphira never saw the javelin. The frozen weapon seemed to slow at the contact of Eragon's ward but they were quickly melted and the tip of the weapon lodged itself deeply into Viserion's chest.

Viserion's scream echoed in the middle of the plain and he immediately feel, unable to stabilise himself, before crashing in the middle of the field in a sickening crush. He was alive but was unable to get back in the air. His right wing was bent and his chest was wounded, the javelin still lodged deeply.

There was a moment of silence. He noticed Daenerys, frozen on Drogon's back, a mask of horror etched on her face. The three dragons had stopped moving, hovering above the white dragon. But seconds after, all the dead converged on Viserion, who stood helpless on the ground and in visible pain.

There wasn't a second to lose if they wanted to save him. Saphira immediately dived to get closer to Viserion and with a powerful burst of flames, removed the closest wights. But more were coming, no doubt following the Night King's order. Spiders, giants and even huge elephants were converging Viserion's way.

"We're coming Shadeslayer" indicated Maudria from the top of the Wall.

Indeed, moments later, a loud rumble came from the ancient Wall. Eragon understood that the heavy chain had been liberated and was falling to ground. Several dozen of wights fell, losing their balance or their grip on the ice. Seconds later, he could see small dots on top of the wall, starting to climb off with unnatural speed. The elves had decided to join the battle on the ground. He trusted them to reach them. They had crossed Alagaësia on Islanzadí's orders to protect him, he knew a wall and a snowy plain wouldn't stop them.

Saphira had also reached the ground with a loud thud, crushing a few wights, completely obliterated under her weight, followed soon by the rest of her pack. The four dragons were now in a vulnerable position, completely exposed but ready to protect each other quite effectively.

They stood close to each other, forming a small bastion, with Viserion held in between, his back turned towards the Wall.

Eragon quickly dismounted Saphira, reaching the ground before Daenerys had even stood from her position. He couldn't help but hear small cracking on the wall, with chunks of ice falling where the old anchor had been and he knew it would be one of the last times he saw the tall structure standing.

But there was no time to worry or to feel emotional. The dead were almost on them and now that the dragons were on the ground, the Night King would have no troubles hitting them and they wouldn't have any time to fuel new wards.

Eragon didn't lose a single minute, already slashing his first enemies while Saphira was spitting hell around them, creating an intense wall of fire around them. All of this was done before Saphira's wings were completely folded, a testimony to how pressed they were. As she slashed a few enemies with her paws, he felt very grateful for Maudria's decision to incorporate some dragonglass on Saphira's armor.

"Just in case" had been the elf's explanation.

A quick glance behind told him that Viserion's wound was deep but wouldn't be deadly in itself. However, the creamy dragon now stood helpless on the ground, and he had troubles properly moving or breathe fire. That was a promise of a painful death in the middle of a battlefield.

Eragon's arms were blurs in the night, stuck in an infinite loop of slashes, blocks and parries. He fought without any interruption, cutting through rows of enemy. There was no time to lose and he couldn't afford to forget about the Night King. But no matter how many enemies stood in front of him, none managed to get past him.

Drogon and Rhaegal were doing their part, protecting the other sides of Viserion, spitting flames to stop the march of the enemies. It was complicated and the dragons had less precision to kill the few enemies who managed to escape the inferno surrounding the group. Should one of those wights reach the dragons and climb on their back, it would be a nightmare to remove it, especially since both weren't protected by armor, just wards fuelled by Eragon and the Eldunaris not an hour ago. Thankfully, the elves had reached the small gathering of dragons and could help to remove the few enemies who managed to get past the dragon's flames.

Daenerys had also decided to step of Drogon and was close to Viserion, oblivious of the dangers around her. Tears stroked her face, as she suddenly understand how powerless she was in the current situation. She was gently stroking his neck, whispering a few words, not daring to raise her voice.

"Cover me, I've got to stop the Night King" whispered Eragon to Saphira, who sent him the equivalent of a mental nod. She shifted her position and Eragon stood beside her.

Knowing he could trust Saphira and the Eldunaris, he turned his attention towards the Night King, who had once more a weapon in his hand. This time, he stood confidently, without hiding, knowing he was the one with the upper hand.

Quickly, he fired three arrows in his direction. He didn't lose time to pour magic or to see whether they would hit true or not. This wasn't his purpose.

Immediately after, he launched a strong mental attack in the direction of the Night King. This was a possibility they had studied the day before and while dangerous, had been deemed acceptable in case of a major threat. This was the case here.

What he felt there was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, even against Galbatorix, Durza or even Valdr. Eragon was in the middle of an ocean of ice, knowing the enemy was everywhere, but unable to grasp a single presence. Each second, a new wave came crashing on him, with the strength of a thousand man and the coldness of the strongest blizzards.

But he couldn't afford to lose and in this ocean of ice, Eragon's presence was fire. His essence was tied to Saphira, he had made Brisingr. And so he burnt freely, openly, without resistance, without caring, pushing and destroying everything he could. Eragon was fire. And he felt, coming from the Night King, a push coming, a coldness creeping in his direction, a blizzard gathering strength to put off the flames.

This wasn't a battle where one was protecting his mind with strong barriers. This was an attack where the purpose was the destroy the other, to melt or to freeze to death.

Eragon's will was clashing, fighting but slowly, he could feel some progress, feeling the cold retreating. He could feel the mythical presence in front of him losing some ground, struggling to keep the storm. Each wave felt less powerful, less biting.

"Eragon, look out" warned Saphira with some urgency.

Forcing his energy, he sent a mental wave of heat in the direction of the Night King, managing to break the connection between them. It wasn't too soon because Eragon narrowly avoided the small dozens of spears sent his way and impaling the spot where he had stood not a second ago. With some surprise, he noticed that the snow had melted there, and a small circle of mud could be seen. Eragon's clothes were completely dry too, with smoke.

The battle that had happened had been more intense than what they expected and had reached unexplored domains of magic. But he couldn't let the scholar in him take control at the moment. The battle was still raging and the White Walkers had finally reached their position and had lost no time to aim Eragon who had been still, his whole attention turned on the Night King.

The latter had both knees on the ground, with both hands supporting him and panting heavily. For the first time, he looked truly weak, weakened from his efforts to tear the wards of the Wall and the energy he had to use to push all the arrows sent his way during the battle.

And while this had offered some respite, Eragon didn't have the luxury to relax. Their small line defence around Viserion was on the verge of collapsing and already, more than twenty wights had surged to protect the Night King from arrows. They had missed a small opening today and they would have to deal with the consequences later. Spiders and giants were on them, ready to crush them. Their size made it easy to be killed but their strength meant the had no room for failure.

Two elves were healing the dragon, under the fearful eye of Daenerys who stood powerless. They were softly singing, healing the dragon with the Ancient Language. These four stood in major contrast with the rest of the battle where only clashes of steel and cries could be heard.

The others elves had made a circle around them, with Saphira, Drogon and Rhaegal to support them. He was also surprised to see that both Jaime Lannister and Daenerys' passenger were present, slashing wights with great efficiency. And while the wights were mostly controlled, the real trouble came from the several White Walkers who had approached and who looked immune to fire. This meant they would have to be defeated by steel, A dozen were around them, determined to stop powerful gathering. Immediately, Eragon went in front on Saphira, who had little to no way to defend herself against these monsters.

The Night King was truly exhausted for the night and stood helpless, helping himself with one hand on a tree, watching his lieutenants trying to bring them down.

Eragon immediately went for the offensive. He was tired from this night, tired from yesterday's event and tired from fighting. Surprisingly, his hit was stopped with unnatural speed. But he wasn't deterred. He followed with another feint on his leg before stopping his movement and immediately slashing his opponent's right arm. This time, his sword struck true. The moment the metal touched the blue skin of the White Walker, it exploded in a million shards of ice, a mask of pain etched on his face.

Turning around, he saw that most friends had also managed to dispatch their opponents or were close to end it. He quickly caught the end of Jaime's fight. After a last parry with his Valyrian sword, he punched the White Walker with his golden hand. To the surprise of all, the lieutenant of the Army of the Dead exploded like all the others, in a boom of ice. On a closer look, he noticed that fragments of dragonglass had been melted on his prosthetic, creating a deathly and quite original weapon.

But a cry from Daenerys caught his attention. Jorah Mormont hadn't been as lucky and his opponent had managed to pierce through his armor, right into his heart. His opponent didn't live long enough to appreciate his victory, as two arrows impaled his chest, killing him on the spot. However, Jorah was dead before he reached the ground, his face forever stuck in a mask of surprise.

His mind was gone and there was nothing they could do for him now.

"The wound is stable now" screamed Blödhgarm, catching everyone's attention.

"We leave now! "replied Eragon, screaming to be heard by all the people above the wind.

Viserion didn't wait and gingerly tried to move his wings. The movements seemed to hurt him but he kept on, knowing this was his only way out. Eragon knew Saphira was guiding him, making sure the white dragon would wait for them on the other side of the Wall where he would rest more safely and where the elves and the Eldunaris would be able to properly gauge his wound.

They had to quickly leave this place. The remaining wights were converging in their direction and Eragon didn't fancy fighting thousands of them on foot.

"Take one of these fuckers, we need to convince Cersei," shouted Jaime Lannister

Maudria immediately went to collect one. In the meantime, he let the Lannister climb on Saphira, who was busy protecting Maudria's left side with flames. The elf trusted the blue dragon and didn't flinch from the close proximity of the flames. Saphira also took this moment to burn Jorah's body, offering him a quiet rest and removing the possibility for the Night King to resurrect him. The remaining elves split between the three dragons. Daenerys' dragons started to protest but a quick growl from Saphira was enough to stop their protests. The elves' natural grace allowed them to settle very quickly and they were quickly in a position that would allow them to take off without falling. Rhaegal was the first to depart, immediately followed by Drogon.

Only Saphira remained, ready to lift off the second the elf would come back.

Eragon waited for a few seconds, to let Maudria come back from his task. Both knew Eragon couldn't afford to be on the ground at this stage of the battle. Maudria knew the risks and he knew Eragon would always be Saphira's top priority. But the elf knew it would be their last opportunity to capture a wight and he had assessed the risks. And soon enough, Maudria was back, with a wight held firmly between his hand. He was using his strength to keep it from escaping, having no row at the moment to held him. From the looks of it, it had once been a wildling, in another lifetime.

But that wasn't their biggest concern. They were more concerned about the hundreds of wights converging their way and the spear of ice being brought to the Night King. The elves on Eragon's back helped Maudria to climb Saphira as he was unable to use his hands.

Without losing any more time, Saphira took off, leaving this no man's land. Eragon took a look under. The position where they had fought was easy to stop. A pile of deaths surrounded the small pit where they had stood for the past hours, fighting and burning all the enemies which had come to them. The ground around was completely scorched. Most of the snow had disappeared, replaced by a mix of earth, blood and ashes, This was the last touch of the dragons' masterpiece, which was now whole and finished.

They reached the top of the Wall effortlessly, avoiding without troubles the spear launched without much conviction by the Night King. They quickly spotted Viserion on the other side, who seemed to be panting heavily. This little flight had taken its toll on the dragon but the elves were already by his side, softly singing to help him. Knowing he was in good hands, Eragon went to Jon, who had also survived the night. After Viserion's fall, the wights had stopped climbing and had all tried to attack them. Now, they were back in the forest, waiting for their time.

He was grim and looked tired from the night of fighting.

"Saw you did some damage down there" started Jon.

"We did yes, but we lost Jorah Mormont" replied Eragon

Jon winced but didn't comment further, besides a small look in Daenerys's direction. She was a small point at such a distance but still, it was easy to see that all her attention was turned towards Viserion. The two kept doing some small talk about their loss and the actions but both were tired from the night.

"We lost a few here but less than yesterday thanks to your actions with Saphira and Daenerys. We might be able to hold for a few more days" resumed Jon

"No we won't Jon. You need to evacuate the Wall, all the Wall today. Tomorrow at the same hour, the Wall will be gone," finished Eragon darkly.

For the first time, a look of pure surprise crossed Jon's face

"And surrender a powerful stronghold? Waste the sacrifice of dozens if not hundreds of brothers?" he replied angrily

"This is not a waste and you know it. We killed thousands of those abominations in two days. Daenerys almost lost a dragon to defend the Wall! But the first thing the Night King will do tonight is to tear down the Wall. And there won't be anything you can do that will stop it!" erupted Eragon

He noticed that the young leader was listening to him with a frown, as if he was doubting Eragon's words.

"The Wall, as you've told me yourself, is magical. There's magic running in its ice, which keeps it from falling on itself for instance. But what we didn't know, is that part of its magic was there to keep the dead from crossing it. You may have noticed, but before each battle, the Night King blew in a small horn. We don't know what that is, but he managed to tear down most of the wards and defences protecting the Wall. Without this item, they wouldn't have been able to climb the Wall like they've done for the past two days"

Jon was completely enraptured with his tall.

"The rest is a wild guess, but blowing seems to take a lot out of him, which is way he only does it once per night. Then, he mostly observes the outcome of the battle. I don't think we've seen people rising from the dead in the past two days, like he did in Hardhome according to you. But tomorrow, the Wall will fall. Today already, we almost lost it. Tomorrow will be the last blow. Take the men, leave as soon as possible, because the dead are coming" whispered Eragon

"We can't leave the Wall, it's our only defences" retorted Jon

"For fuck's sake, climb on Saphira Jon" exclaimed Eragon, finally reaching the end of its patience after two nights of fights.

Surprised by his outburst, Jon obediently followed his instructions without complain.

"Bring us to the basement of the Wall please Saphira" asked Eragon through their bond

"He will see reason, don't worry" said the Dragon, sensing the irritation coming from her Rider.

Around, the men started to whisper, seeing their leader climb on Saphira before going on the other side of the Wall. During this shirt period, they would be quite vulnerable. But they knew the Night King was quite weak at this point, and the last javelin he had sent had been a mere shadow of what they had already seen. But the purpose of this mission wasn't to go and kill the Night King.

Eragon was hoping to make Jon see reason and for this, the Northerner would need to see.

Moments later, Jon gasped and understood the gravity of the situation. The foundations of the Wall were on the verge of collapsing, with huge cracks and blocks of ice already on the ground. Nobody had really paid a lot of attention on it in the middle of the battle but now it was impossible to miss.

They didn't stay long, not eager to remain in the open like that. But the message had been passed. Without another word, Saphira flew back to the top of the Wall where Jon wordlessly stepped off from her and then immediately took the direction of the lift to meet with the soldiers. Eragon knew his task had been completed with Jon and now he had to deal with the others who were waiting for him below.

The mood down was just as grim. Daenerys' face was white and tears rolled down her face. The elves

were slowly singing in Ancient Language to heal Viserion. He was finally able to have a good look at the wound and it looked serious. The weapon had been removed but the wound was deep and still pained a lot Viserion. Some sort of frostbite had spread around his chest and there was a hole in his wing.

The spear had pierced through its wing before finishing its path in Viserion's chest, which required dexterity to knit all the tissues together. Whatever they had done during the battle certainly hadn't been enough and had probably been more harmful in the long run but had been needed to get Viserion out of this alive.

As soon as he stepped off from Saphira, Daenerys rushed on him

"Will they be able to save him?" enquired Daenerys immediately, worry plain to see on her face.

"I don't know. But they're the best so we have to trust them" assured Eragon

And they waited, listening to the voice of the elves. The Eldunaris were helping them, offering advice and energy to heal Viserion. This time, there wasn't a single hesitation from Daenerys as she heard the men and women around her sing in Ancient Language. Perhaps it was because this time, there was no other choice. She knew no one else besides the Alagaësian had the skills to heal her dragon and to save him. The wound was magical, just like Eragon's old scar in his back and only the combined efforts of the elves and the Eldunaris was stopping the frostbite from spreading. They could see the muscles from his wing and chest slowly mend back, the holes being closed at a very gentle pace.

In the meantime, they saw movements coming from the Wall. The men were starting to leave the old fortress. Most had confused looks or were shouting angrily but they were nonetheless following the orders; Jon had spread the word and the evacuation had started. They just had to hope to be faster than the dead. But none of the soldiers dared to come in their direction.

Hours flew and the number of people leaving the Wall grew. At some point, Jon came to see if everything was alright but neither had much time to lose. He left quickly after, joined by Jaime Lannister who had seemed rather lost during the entire time he had stood next to the dragons. Time was against them. Time was against Westeros, Winterfell and the Wall.

Chapter Text

Finally, a few hours before the night, Blödhgarm and the others stopped singing. The three dragons hadn't moved, watching intently the few elves close to them. Drogon and Rhaegal had been on the defensive, ready to protect their brother if they deemed that the elves were becoming a threat. Saphira had acted as a peacemaker between both parties. Fortunately, the intent carried by the Ancient Language had warranted their restrain and the process of healing Viserion had advanced smoothly, without any issues coming from the dragons.

Still, it had taken long hours, to properly heal all Viserion's injuries. The elves, led by Blödhgarm, had a long list of tasks to complete, and each had to be perfectly realized if they wanted Viserion to be able to fly. They had to fix the bones which had been broken, to mend all the torn muscles. It was draining work since the wing of a dragon was one of its most complex parts.

Fortunately for Daenerys, the elves leading this operation were probably the only ones alive who had already healed one or several dragons in the past.

After several hours, Blödhgarm took a few steps back. But his steps lacked their usual elegance as he buckled from the loss of energy. But before anyone could help him, he straightened himself, though Eragon saw his movements were still shacky.

"The wound is closed and the spell which caused the frost on the wound has been removed. But Viserion is still weak," explained briefly the lupin elf before turning his back and taking a few tentative steps in the direction of the others who had just opened a bottle of faelnirv. The loss of energy had been quite important, especially after two nights of fighting against a tireless enemy.

The last hours had been exhausting for all of them. Between Viserion's injury, the long hours of fighting where no mistakes were allowed, and the need to put as much distance as possible with the dead, the nerves of many were put to work.

The sudden stop of the elves' singing had caught Daenerys' attention. She immediately raised her head to understand the cause of this stop. And after the elf's explanation, Daenerys sagged, a weight suddenly lifted from her shoulders as she heard the good news. She didn't lose any time and immediately went in the direction of Viserion to stroke his scales.

Eragon also took the opportunity to have a closer look at the wound. The frostbite didn't look as painful and the hole in his Wing had been mended. But anyone could clearly see Viserion was still suffering from it and it would take weeks for him to be able to fly without any discomfort. He looked tired and weak, but he noticeably brightened under Daenerys' soft petting.

He also noticed Daenerys' eyes softening, understanding that for now, Viserion was saved. The white dragon was wounded and in pain, but they saw him, softly stretching his head to nudge his Rider's hands with care, playfully seeking more attention which he was immediately getting.

But Eragon knew Viserion's quick healing might be one of the only good news of the day. The night had been long and he wasn't sure he would be able to sleep before the next one. Time was pressing them. Each snowflake was a reminder that the Night King was getting stronger.

Nevertheless, the wight they had secured was now firmly bound, with ropes and chains. They hadn't tried any magic but he trusted the cord used by the elves, knowing it was probably stronger than the metallic chains also circling the wight. Nevertheless, no matter how restrained it was, the dead soldier kept twitching, trashing, trying to find a way to free himself from his bonds. But Eragon was confident it was safely secured, especially since there would constantly be an elf keeping watch. To let this wight slip under their watch would be a disaster they certainly couldn't afford. The costs had been too high

Eragon had taken the time to observe the dead they had captured. From the clothes -or mostly what remained of it- it seemed to be an old soldier of the Night's Watch, not that it really mattered at this point. He wore an old decaying black cap which had seen better days. He also lacked the kind of furs usually worn by the Wildlings.

The most unsettling part with wights was their state of decomposition. Wights weren't just corpses which hadn't changed since the day they died. Instead, its body had carried on its long decomposition in the frozen lands. Their prisoner hadn't much skin left on his skull and his left arm was completely exposed, barely held together by some tendons or maybe it was simply the clothes that managed to hold the limbs attached. All over, its skin was completely dark, necrosed.

There was just a single point that seemed to refuse to comply with this feeling of darkness and death. Each wight had blue unsettling eyes which stood in sharp contrast with all the rest of their body.

The rest of their body was just an endless void, just like death was supposed to be. They had no smell as Saphira had pointed out. Nothing, not even the smell of their breath. And Eragon had tried continuously the past hours to detect a presence with his mind, to no avail, something that was both frustrating and dangerous.

It was almost impossible to track the dead with his mind. For the past years, Eragon had been used to feel the light presence of all forms of life surrounding him, it had almost become a second feeling, a sixth sense. The feeling of this touch would change depending on the being close to him, going from Saphira's burning one to the crow's small and scared presence. However, with these monstrosities, there was nothing like that. He was only able to feel the presence of a bond, a chain, with each end corresponding to a wight. It was confusing at best and Eragon had often been surprised during the battle. It felt like fighting with hindered senses. Atop of the Wall, he had a few times misjudged the number of wights climbing the past two nights.

But the time for deeper observation would come later. The Wall was almost empty and they had a long list of decisions to take and action to make. But remaining idle and establishing plans would come later.

"We have to tell the others," said Eragon, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

"The others?" slowly repeated Daenerys to understand where he was going. Eragon understood her lack of comprehension.

"All the people defending the Wall. In a few hours, it will be breached. It will be useless and even dangerous to keep defending the Wall. If they do, they will be trapped, without any possibilities of retreat. They'd be destroyed within a few hours. Useless sacrifices but also, unnecessary resources for the army of the dead"

She seemed to realize but kept looking anxiously at her dragons.

And while Eragon was happy to see genuine concern, now wasn't the time to be pedagogical. he knew they couldn't remain in the current situation. He had seen the last soldiers leave the castle from Eastwatch by the Sea more than two hours ago. The only protection between them and the Night King now consisted of a frozen wall. A wall that would collapse rather sooner than later.

"I know this is probably not for the best, given Viserion's state, but we need to leave this place. If we don't, most of the sacrifices done here would have been for naught" he explained

"Jorah" whispered Daenerys, her voice cracking at the thought of the veteran soldier who had died protecting her.

Eragon knew the old man had been one of Daenerys' most trust trusted advisors. She had shared a bit about him during his stay at Dragonstone, usually with a touch of sadness and uncertainty in her voice whenever his name was mentioned but he didn't know more about the man.

"We burnt his body with Saphira. We know this isn't the burial he deserved but it was the least we could do," answered Eragon softly not really knowing the depth of their relation.

"Thank you" managed to whisper Daenerys before silently approaching herself from Drogon to stroke his scales. The black dragon had slowly nudged his head in her direction, sensing how distraught she was before, in the gentlest way, pushing his head in her hand.

Meanwhile, Viserion had felt the coming departure and started to screech, trying to move his right-wing and his chest, probably judging the pain it would inevitably bring. His movements were still uncoordinated but it would be more than enough to fly.

"We will leave with Saphira and Jon to the other castles of the Wall. We need to alert the other Brothers of the Night's Watch and the wildlings and Jon Is probably the only person they'd trust to leave the fortifications. Given the current situation and the distances, we should be back within the next three days. In the meantime, put as much distance as you can from the Wall. Blödhgarm and the others have my full trust to help you. Your dragons and you need to rest, and it would be best to have some distance between you and the dead to do so" explained Eragon quickly.

He waited a few seconds to make sure she had understood the flow of information passed on to her.

After a few seconds, he saw her slowly nodding. He also received a mental acknowledgement from Blödhgarm, who preferred to remain silent. They had discussed all of this while they were healing Viserion, covering each aspect of the next steps, and weighing the pros and cons of each option. The small vocal speech had been for Daenerys' benefit.

And he could feel the web of icy emptiness was now on the utmost verge of the forest, like a demon ready to burst through their thin and only layer of protection.

They now had to leave the place and reach Winterfell, like all the departing soldiers, who hadn't waited for the dragons to recuperate. The mood had been grime. Despite having four dragons, they were forced to flee. Eragon knew this decision had harshly impacted the already low morale of the soldiers. He didn't dare think about the coming crash of the Wall. Hearing about such an event was one thing, witnessing, or in their case, hearing it would be another.

Some elves were already gone, running to catch up with the Northerners. Their purpose would be to warn Jon of the arrival of Saphira, to be ready to leave as soon as Eragon would arrive. Given their speed, the elves would have no trouble catching up even with a few hours' delay.

The other elves would travel with Daenerys, on Rhaegal and Drogon's back. Letting Viserion fly on his own without supervision was too dangerous to be considered. His wounds were still very fresh and would require some monitoring.

They knew he was able to fly, but they were left in the dark to know for how long and at which pace.

Quickly after, they were gone. They had done their purpose here and Eastwatch by the Sea was now completely abandoned. They had collected Jon and Saphira was flying in the direction of the lone soldiers still guarding what would soon become a breached wall. High in the sky, they saw the people moving South, buzzing like ants, distancing themselves from the oppressing forest and its deadly presence. The last soldiers had left more than an hour ago and the castle was now completely defenceless. The Night King knew they were leaving. He had felt it, and his army was now pressed against the edges of the forest. Some wights were even walking on the burning plains which had been scorched the previous nights by the dragons. They were simply waiting for their leader to recuperate, in order to deliver the final blow to the Wall, while they were completely powerless to stop it. Climbing the Wall would be useless now, a waste of time.

The Brothers of the Night's Watch would arrive safely at Winterfell. The army of the dead was powerful but slow and the snow certainly didn't help the movements of large gatherings like this.

And from what Eragon had seen, the Night King was like Galbatorix. He was confident, confident in his abilities to destroy every single one of them. He believed all their efforts to be fruitless. He wouldn't rush. And the Alagaësian knew he would do the same before reaching Winterfell. He would take his time, taking each northern castle and inn one by one. This was what he had done North of the Wall. He had patiently and thoroughly taken control of the wide area and captured every life being. No matter how hard they had tried, Eragon and the Eldunaris hadn't been able to find a single spirit larger than a bird there. And they now would have to find a way to defeat him and his army.

Late into the night, a loud noise startled all the soldiers defending one of the castles. Many looked around, trying to find the cause of this turbulence. Jon, who had understood, had his eyes wide open, unable to hide his surprise. He had probably hoped the Wall would hold. However, Eragon remained oblivious to their reactions and surprise. He stood, frozen, shocked and overwhelmed. The rumble had been loud, even leagues away; But it was nothing in comparison to the cry he had felt from Nature. It felt as if a fresh wound had been opened and salt had been poured on it.

For the first time in eight thousand years, the shield that guarded the realms of men had been split.

Chapter Text

After the battle at the Wall, Eragon had left with Jon to warn the castles on the Wall, before turning South and going to Winterfell. Halfway there, they had joined the elves, Daenerys and her dragons. As expected, they hadn't encountered any trouble but they were going at a slow pace because of Viserion's injury. What should have taken only a few hours was extended to a few days but they managed to reach the northern stronghold safe.

After a few days of travel together, the elves had remained at Winterfell with Viserion while Daenerys had gone to Dragonstone to prepare her army. The decision had been difficult to make, but the only one viable. Viserion was in no condition to fly on such distances. They had witnessed it first hand with their travel North. Moreover, they had to warn the Dothrakis and Unsullied to go to war against death itself. Once again, they were reminded about their lack of time and that they had already lost too much.

Eragon had followed the young woman and her two dragons on the island along with Jon and a few others. Saphira wasn't pleased to travel with so many people on her back and had repeatedly commented on it but she knew they didn't have that much of a choice at this point. She was prideful but wasn't completely closed to the reality and urgency of the situation.

They had barely stayed on the island for a whole day. During this short time, they had mostly prepared for the departure of the armies North. It had been a logistical nightmare, especially since the several armies would be leaderless during the start of their journey. Jon, Tyrion, James, Daenerys and Eragon would instead be at King's Landing dealing with Cersei Lannister and trying to convince her of this mythical threat. This would leave Grey Worm in charge of the heteroclite armies. His strength was respected even amongst the Dothrakis and he would be helped by Missandei who was well versed in the art of politics and would be helpful to stop the possible rising tensions.

They would be gone for a few days only but they couldn't afford to lose this time. That meant Grey Worm had the complicated task of overseeing Daenerys' armies and preparing for the coming departure. It meant manning the ships, finding the food supplies and filling the holds with as much dragon steel as they could. These would be the last shipments North before the battle. Heaps of ore had been mined during the past weeks; they would have to pray it would be enough.

The loading was happening while Eragon was approaching the capital. For the first time since their arrival in Westeros, Eragon was able to have a good look at King's Landing. It was the biggest city of Westeros and by a large margin from everything he had seen before. It was even larger than Urû'baen. The Red Keep dominated the city, an impressive structure showcasing the power of the people in charge. These people felt superior to the commoners, and every occasion was good to highlight it. He could also see some similarities in the architecture with Dragonstone's castle, a reminder that the Targaryens used to rule here and that their legacy wasn't completely gone.

But the most surprising part of the city wasn't its size, the unique architecture from some monuments or the impressive harbour they could spot in the distance. What surprised and shocked Eragon the most was the smell. It wasn't something he had expected nor been warned about. Even from the distance, they were able to smell a strong and disgusting stench which said a lot about the city. Even Dras-Leona's poorest neighbourhoods hadn't smelt that bad. Eragon was astounded that so many people were willingly living in such a stench. But according to Tyrion, this was a perfectly normal occurrence hence why no one had thought or judged it necessary to warn him.

King's Landing was their last stop before the war. They knew that the moment they left the city, each step would bring them closer to the Night King and its inhuman army, with the motive to end it. Eragon had recently learnt from the elves that the Night King had finally decided to walk in the direction of Winterfell. Its large army was done exploring the wide-area North of Winterfell and was now heading South in the direction of the stronghold. They would probably reach it in a few weeks, after making sure all the castles North were emptied.

As expected, the Night King had spent the past weeks invading all the castles of the Wall in the hope of growing his already massive army and would continue doing so while walking South. There shouldn't have been many livings left but his ability to raise the dead would probably pay off. The explanations of how the elves had tracked the army of the dead still puzzled Eragon but he trusted them.

All the actors would be there, at Winterfell, on time to face off in this final battle. Eragon and Jon had spent a few hours with a map of Westeros to study or, in Eragon's case, learn about the defences, alliances and natural protection of the several kingdoms. After a few hours spent over the map, both men had reached a grim and similar conclusion: the survival of Westeros was deemed almost impossible if Winterfell were to fall. The survival of the country would be determined in the next few weeks in the Northern stronghold. Fighting his army at Winterfell had been a rather easy decision to make. It was one of the only castles in Westeros able to host the large gathering that would soon be there, with thick and strong defences. Moreover, they knew that they had to fight him North in order to prevent an excessive increase in the army of the dead caused by the thousands of people buried and the death that would bring a forced exodus in the harsh winter. Most of the people currently living in Winterfell weren't soldiers, like those at the Wall had been. And if somehow, they managed to survive the long exodus, most would die from the lack of food coming shortly after. But for now, only the keeps and castles North of Winterfell were in danger

Now, Winterfell was being manned and prepared for the coming battle. Smiths were working round the clock, soldiers were building siege machines and digging trenches while the farmers were collecting the last crops which had grown under the half-broken greenhouses.

The last unknown was the presence or not of the Lannister armies, the last piece missing from this frozen chessboard.

These concerns were for the moment quite distant for Eragon who, instead, was teaching Daenerys. A lot of her free time was dedicated to Eragon, spent on the back of their dragons or in one of the rooms of Dragonstone, learning, meditating and bonding with her pack.

She had kept to her promise and followed Eragon's oath. Viserion's injury had hurt her faith and her feeling of invincibility. She had witnessed first-hand how little she knew about her dragons and how powerless she could become when faced with a dangerous opponent. She owed Viserion's survival to the Alagaësian.

All of Eragon's actions since his arrival months ago had already stirred something inside of her but the wound sustained by Viserion at Eastwatch by the Sea had been the last droplet. Daenerys had never felt so powerless. The feeling of invulnerability she had had for so long was now gone. She wasn't the strongest player on the chessboard anymore. Her children had never been so close to die. And she knew she owed the elves and the Ancient Language Viserion's survival. Nevertheless, the fact that she had managed to raise them and keep them alive for so long without any troubles was prowess in itself. In many aspects, Eragon and Daenerys went through a similar journey.

And with the recent developments and the oath she had recently taken, they were now making bigger steps with the connection between Drogon and Daenerys. Eragon felt more at ease sharing the wonders of the world, describing what he knew about dragons and helping her become one with Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion. So far, the Ancient Language wasn't on the table and he refrained himself from doing magic in front of her. It was a slow and tedious process but one they had to take.

In comparison to what some had done in the past, this delegation was quite small. Only elves had followed him, along with Jon, Daenerys, Drogon, Rhaegal, Jaime and Tyrion Lannister. Since all the travel had been done on the dragon's back -something Saphira complained about quite regularly- Grey Worm had remained at Dragonstone and the elves were overseeing the defences with Randell Tarly and the Lords of the North. The tension had been electric and Eragon could only hope everything would turn out well. He knew nevertheless there would always be one of his companions there to help diffuse the situation or prevent silly decisions

Viserion had also remained North. The dragon was still extremely weak after his blow and the forced march done just after hadn't helped him. Thankfully, the Eldunaris had been able to supply him with some strength and energy.

Tyrion and Jaime would also be on the trip. The two Lannisters had taken some time to explain Cersei's character and personality. It was interesting to receive both perceptions, especially given how closely related they were to each other. If half the things he had heard were true -and that was probably the case- only one word would be able to describe her: cruel.

The last member of their excursion was also the most hostile. The wight Blödhgarm had captured during the last battle was secured inside a chest and could often be heard trashing, something that hadn't stopped since his capture weeks ago.

The question remained to know how to let her know the purpose of their visit. At first, Jon and Eragon had proposed to go but they had

As they circled the Dragonpit that sat atop the Hill of Rhaenys, Eragon felt the anger coming from Saphira and the Eldunaris. They hadn't wanted to believe it, but some of Daenerys' ancestors had built a pit and tried to chain their dragons there, making them look like a mere and common entertainment. The three dragons were making their anger known, and Eragon turned his head to look at Daenerys, who looked confused by the change of mood of her dragons. With a nod of his head, he pointed to the arena below then and after a few seconds, her face blushed in understanding. Eragon couldn't help but compare this place to Galbatorix's room, a place where Shruikan has remained chained for long years with a mental bond, worded in Ancient Language.

But he brushed these thoughts aside, knowing this was the past, something they couldn't change and that the pit would remain chainless in the future.

"These humans have dared to bring their metal-forged-chains to bind and turn dragons into pets. Collars have no place around our scales. Iron has no place on a priceless treasure, and I'd rather be free in death than chained in such a domed place" growled Saphira.

For Eragon, there was nothing to add. He knew the value of a dragon's freedom. He remained silent, sending waves of comfort and understanding to Saphira and letting her finish her flight to land in the middle of the pit.

Daenerys' dragons followed suit and effortlessly landed. They quickly joined by the others who had travelled from the shore by foot and were waiting for them. The chest containing the wight was heavily guarded by the elves.

On the other side of the arena, a few Lannister representatives and soldiers were silently watching their arrival. He also saw Cersei wasn't there yet. But Eragon knew she was coming since he had felt someone coming along with three guards.

For Eragon, this was just another war council. Only this time, Arya, Orik, Nasuada and Orin had been replaced by Cersei, Daenerys, Jon and Tyrion. He and Saphira were the only constants.

The atmosphere was tense. Cersei had yet to appear but all her counsellors were already present. He could see someone he assumed was Euron Greyjoy, a few Lannister captains and Cersei's Hand,

"A third hand. Humans never fail to humour me" snorted Saphira with disdain.

All around, Lannister soldiers stood, ready to attack when ordered. All were clad with rich red and black armour.

It was around that time Cersei decided to make her presence known to all. Eragon and the elves heard before the others the steps of the small group. A few seconds later, he was proven right and Cersei Lannister appeared along with several bodyguards wearing deep rich black armour, different from the other soldiers already present. But one of the guards made his eyes widen. No matter the amount of scouting done before, he hadn't been fully prepared, because Cersei wasn't protected by three soldiers as they had felt but instead, by four tall soldiers. One of them was the biggest man Eragon had ever seen and no matter how hard he tried; he couldn't find his presence with his mind. If Eragon hadn't known better, he would have thought his previous statement was wrong and that Nar Garzhvog had decided to tag along in this new council. But this wasn't the case. And most worrying, this huge soldier smelt and felt like death.

"This isn't normal Eragon," said Umaroth. "Some magic is at work here, something deeply abnormal."

The fact that even the wise and knowledgeable Eldunaris were at a loss didn't help to ease his tension. He could feel the intricacies of the Eldunaris shift. Somehow, the presence of this new unknown player had shifted the dangerousness of the council. They were all on the edge.

Meanwhile, the latecomers took their place. This was a power play, to counter their arrival on the dragon's back. But Cersei Lannister would never understand the true impact her arrival had and how the atmosphere changed amongst Eragon and the Eldunaris.

Instead, she silently took her place, a golden chair with the Lannister lion embroidered in gold on a deep red rich velvet fabric. Each movement she had taken since she had left her room in the Red Keep was calculated. As soon as she settled, Eragon saw her eyes, calculating, moving around, in search of someone. She barely acknowledged him but he was certain he saw a flick of anger in her eyes when her gaze settled on Daenerys. But her biggest reaction came when she saw Jaime Lannister, sitting next to Tyrion and the careful mask she had slipped.

"I thought you were dead" whispered Cersei but everyone heard her nevertheless. "Everyone thought…. No one saw you after she burnt half of our men alive!" finished Cersei with some spite.

He noticed that Daenerys didn't flinch and her gaze didn't shift one bit from where she was looking. Jaime looked pained while Tyrion kept looking between his two siblings, his face unreadable. Only Jon seemed completely unphased by what was happening. His eyes were drilled into the chest which contained the wight.

After a few moments when it became obvious, that she wouldn't get any answer she turned her gaze to face the whole group.

"It doesn't matter. Let's get this over with. Why are you here and pray tell me why I shouldn't simply execute you all for the troubles you've caused Westeros the past moons? We have an Oathbreaker from the Wall, a dwarf kin slayer and the daughter of the Mad King."

Daenerys' eyes focused on Cersei's, and her amethyst look met Cersei's emerald ones.

"The last time dragons were here, they were mere pups, chained, broken, a shadow from their former glory. Perhaps this is what the people here remember from the might of dragons. But let me assure you that the three standing beside me are anything but pups. You may have soldiers and even war machines standing close. But by the time they will get into motion, the place would be bathed in fire." described Daenerys.

She had spoken calmly, almost dismissively, as if she was describing the weather. But none could miss the hint of steel in her words.

Cersei took it in stride, and she barely gave any indication of having heard the words of the young Queen.

"So, the young girl knows how to speak. Good. Now, what if someone explained the reason for your venue here then?"

Jon stood up and faced Cersei. They had decided that he would be the one speaking. Their choice had been quite easy to make. They knew Tyrion and Daenerys wouldn't be listened by Cersei and they didn't completely trust Jaime. Eragon was a stranger so wouldn't be taken seriously or only after too many hours. Which is why they unanimously decided on Jon who had begrudgingly accepted. Surprisingly, it was Euron Greyjoy who broke the silence that had fallen after Cersei's words. He rose from his seat and took a few daring steps in Daenerys' direction.

"I found one of your birds at sea. She screamed as I cut her down" whispered Euron with a wicked smirk.

Only Daenerys and Eragon could her what he said and he noticed the anger and fury rising in Daenerys. Theon Greyjoy had saved her sister recently but the Dornish allies had been killed by Euron.

"We have suffered from each other's hands. We have lost people we loved from each other's hands. If all you wanted was more of this, there would be no need for this gathering. We are entirely capable of waging war against each other without meeting face to face." Said Jon tonelessly.

"So instead, we should settle our differences and live together in harmony for the days of our days" cut Cersei mockingly

"We all know this will never happen" replied Tyrion tiredly.

"This isn't about living in harmony. It's just about living. The same thing is coming for all of us, a general you can't negotiate with, an army that doesn't leave corpses behind on the battlefield. Lord Tyrion tells me a million people live in this city. They're about to become a million more soldiers in the army of the dead."

"I imagine for most of them it would be an improvement" replied emotionlessly Cersei. "Pull back my armies and stand down while you go on your monster hunt or while you solidify and expand your position, hard for me to know which it is with my armies pulled back;

"You think we are the ones hunting them. But I promise you, they are the true hunters. The North is on the verge of collapsing, the Wall has fallen a few weeks ago and all of Westeros might follow soon if nothing is done to stop them."

Following this, Cersei remained silent for a few seconds

"This is what you came up with? Children's stories to move my armies North and take the throne for yourself? The Wall has stood for millennials" she answered her tone ice cold.

"It's the truth Cersei. I saw it myself" interrupted Jaime tiredly. His eyes were burned on Cersei's, which darted, seemingly trying to find something in her twin's eyes. It only lasted for a split second but Eragon felt this was the most vulnerable she had been.

"The Wall felt. Crumbling, in large chunks of ice. And this army… It's unlike anything you've ever seen. Unlike anything we've all ever seen, "Added Jaime simply, never moving his eyes from where they were looking.

After a few seconds of silence

"Captivity doesn't suit you, Jaime. You lost your hand the first time you were made prisoner, now, it seems you lost your mind" replied the Queen icily.

He took the words of his sisters in stride but turned his head and took a few steps back, having said his mind. But the last member of the family wasn't done yet.

"We knew coming here our claim would hardly be believed, no matter who brought it up. Which is why we have something to show you" explained Tyrion.

Immediately silence fell on the vast stadium. And then, all the eyes turned toward the large wooden box. All the Lannister garrison suddenly understood the reasons for its presence.

"We managed to capture one wight, to bring it, as a faith of truth," resumed Jon. Eragon, who had moved behind Jon, slowly opened it. Inside, the wight was tightly bound with heavy chains. It was the first time they opened the crate since they had closed it in Winterfell. They knew it was alive but hadn't wanted to risk opening it before.

Helped with Jon, they rolled the crate and the wight fell, unmoving.

"That's not very impressi… ". But Cersei never finished her sentence because Eragon had removed some of the chains. Immediately, the wight started a frenzied run in the direction of Cersei who remained frozen in shock. Before the wight could touch her, Eragon pulled on the chains, stopping its mad course a few feet away from the Queen.

Eragon couldn't help but be surprised by the energy of it. They had heard him thrash every day, at every hour during their journey. Nevertheless, the wight had been kept in the dark for several weeks, unable to move, drink or eat. And yet, it was running without any physical issues, blindness or lack of energy.

For a few seconds, no one dared to break the silence and the only sounds they could hear were the angry screams coming from the wight. Eragon could feel the shock, surprise and fear in everyone's minds. No one here had any restraint and for the first time, no one wore any mask to hide his emotions.

Jon took the audience's attention back, resuming with his no-nonsense tone.

"Steel doesn't kill them," he said while cutting the right arm off the dead. It was an unusual sight, seeing a hand move on its own. The wight seemed completely unaware of the loss of his hand, only focusing on maiming Cersei or Jon.

"The only things that destroy these enemies are fire, Valyrian steel and dragonglass"

And with that, he burnt the wight's hand and stabbed him with his sword and immediately, the wight stopped moving.

All the eyes were on the small heap of bones and leather left on the ground. No one dared to break the silence.

"Is it true?" said Cersei

"It is, you've seen the wight and there are…"

"I'm not asking you" interrupted Cersei without bothering to look at Jon. Her eyes were now locked onto Jaime's, wide open, in search of answers.

He waited and then nodded slowly. She took a few steps back.

"How many?" she questioned suddenly.

"Hundreds of thousands" answered Jon, which made most of them widen their eyes.

For some unknown reason, Euron rose and went in the direction of the small heap of bones and flash of the wight. Without any disgust, he touched it, and probed it, probably trying to get answers to unvoiced questions he had.

"Can they swim?" snapped Euron.

"No" came the short answer from Jon

He paused, his hand still touching the face of the wight.

"Good. I'm taking the Iron Fleet back to the Iron Islands" he proclaimed to Cersei after a few seconds of reflection.

"What are you talking about?" questioned Cersei

"I've been around the world. And I've seen everything, things you couldn't imagine but this. This is the only thing I've seen that terrifies me," replied

Eragon, Daenerys and the others were simple spectators to this exchange. But something wasn't adding up. From a political perspective, this was a suicide. Euron was basically dropping Cersei in front of her strongest enemy. He was also isolating himself, losing a strong ally without any second thoughts.

Eragon had felt the emotions of the man. During the whole meeting, they tried to keep track of all the mood swings and thoughts. With hundreds of Eldunaris and only a few dozen of humans to monitor, it had been an easy task. And they knew something was wrong with Euron Greyjoy. There was a clear difference between his inner personality and the emotions he was trying to share. Eragon knew excitement or euphoria had no part in this meeting. Something was wrong and they would have to delve deeper to understand what was going on there.

Later, in the middle of the night, back in their room at Dragonstone, they knew the meeting had been a failure. Cersei wouldn't move a finger to help them. There was nothing they could do and it astonished Eragon. Not only was she cruel but also selfish. Some Eldunaris had been following her train of thoughts. The closest she had been to helping them was when Jaime had spoken. But immediately after, her paranoia had jumped into action and her selflessness was back.

The atmosphere was tense inside the boat. After sharing what he had gathered from the council, all their hope for additional support had been crushed. Not only had Cersei refused to help them but she was also preparing to go to war against Daenerys. It was one thing to lose a potential ally for the coming wart. It was another to understand a second war would be waiting for Daenerys immediately after the first one if she were to survive it.

Chapter Text

Eragon's eyes widened at the sight of Winterfell. This wasn't the castle he had left weeks ago. Thousands of soldiers were now milling around: Unsullied, Dothrakis, Northerners, and Wildlings were all working together in a seemingly organised chaos. The whole plain around the castle was filled with tents, trenches, catapults or even war machines. There wasn't a lot of space around, still covered by snow. Images from the last siege in Urû'baen flashed into their mind. But their thoughts were interrupted with a powerful and rather loud roar.

Viserion had felt the return of his mother and had made his presence known. They could see his figure looming in the sky, and Daenerys's face immediately brightened. She too had missed her dragon during this admittedly short trip.

It only took a few seconds for Viserion to cover the distance separating him from their small group. Eragon and Saphira took this moment to observe his stance. They were glad to see that the dragon looked healthier than the last time they had seen him. His movements didn't look as powerful as Drogon's or Rhaegal's, but he didn't look on the verge of collapsing anymore.

With another roar, Viserion flew above Daenerys, slowly circling above them and starting a quick descent. Eragon was pleased to see that none of the men around him looked surprised or afraid by this outburst. The horses around still looked frightened but didn't run away at the first opportunity anymore. The constant presence of Drogon, Saphira and Rhaegal had helped them get more comfortable around dragons. With the war coming so soon, it was a critical necessity.

And as expected, most of the elves were quick to follow Viserion. Eragon was soon met with many of his friends, who greeted him with the usual greeting.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin." They started

"Atra du evarínya ono varda." Replied Eragon

"Un atra mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr." Concluded Maudria.

Daenerys surprised them by also initiating such a salutation. She was probably not aware of it, but by talking first she had earned some respect from most of the elves present.

And noticing Viserion's health, she took time to properly thank them, this time in the Common Tongue. She wasn't that fluent yet but her feelings were sincere.

Saphira, Drogon and Rhaegal were also pleased to see the last member of their small pack. It was obvious that he was still healing but at least, he was able to fly properly. And Eragon knew how much it meant for a dragon. They were prideful, and being deprived of their ability to fly was probably the worst thing that could happen to them.

Naturally, being dragons, their reunion was bound to be more brutal than with anyone else. Saphira flew straight on the young dragon, facing him, gauging him. But Viserion held his own, looking straight at Saphira. From what Eragon perceived of Saphira, there wasn't any arrogance in this challenge, just some brutal honesty. And she looked pleased by what she saw.

"The elves have done right, and he didn't slack during our absence" were her comments towards the Eragon.

With a small roar, she caught the attention of the three dragons before leading them West. Very quickly, it became difficult to spot them in the cloudy sky, but Eragon kept a part of his mind towards Saphira. Judging from Daenerys' face, the distance was too important at the moment, but she trusted Saphira and was now used to such behaviours.

The end of their journey was spent with light chatting. Eragon knew most of them were eager to know the outcome and the details of their negotiations with Cersei but he was grateful that they were waiting before asking out loud. Their calm demeanour at least indicated that everything was under a certain level of control at Winterfell. He noticed the hardness in their eyes though. They too had felt the cry for help from nature when the Wall had been breached. The most important details were shared with their mind, elements which might have been too sensible to speak out loud. And within minutes, they reached the imposing gates of Winterfell which were already open. During this short walk, he could properly take a look at the several improvements done to the castle's defences. It was an impressive change, to say the least.

They crossed several trenches, which were for the most part filled with fragments of dragonglass. They had worked hard, and the amount of dragonglass he could see was astonishing. Some parts of the walls were glittering under the sun's rays, unveiling the pieces of dragonglass stuck between the layers of stones. This would make the climbing much harder for the wights.

Finally, they crossed the gates, and after a few steps, they reached the main courtyard where Sansa stood, surrounded by a dozen Lords waiting for them, just like they had been months ago when he had arrived with Saphira. This was Daenerys' introduction to the Northern Lords, something she had dreaded quite a lot during the past weeks. She had discussed this at length with Jon during their travel, curious about the North and its inhabitants, and the Lords she would find at Winterfell. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to go there after the battle of the Wall, hard-pressed by the time. Viserion had done the last days of travel at his own rhythm, helped by the elves.

The circumstances had changed, but he could still feel some hostility. However, this time, it wasn't directed at him, even if most were still cautious around him. He turned his head to notice Daenerys' perfectly blank face. He knew she had felt the more than frosty welcome. The welcoming committee was more prepared than the last time and wasn't surprised by the dragons' appearance.

Their eyes were cold and calculating and there was no warmth in them. Eragon hadn't caught on all the politics of Westeros but he had the proof the Northerners could hold some grudges.

Apparently, the North's welcome was just as cold as the blizzard surrounding them.

It was Jon who started the introduction, starting with Daenerys

"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen," he said, before taking a small step in the direction of the Northerners, "my sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell".

"Thank you for inviting us into your home Lady Stark. The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you." Initiated Daenerys.

"Winterfell is yours, your grace "

And Eragon didn't know if they had just witnessed the start of another cold war.

One person had remained unphased by this political powerplay. A small boy in a wheelchair was in the first row and was looking straight at Eragon.

"The Army has crossed the Wall; they are heading West to erase the last strongholds still inhabited. They will reach us in a few weeks' time" he said in a cold detached voice.

No one knew how to respond to this. Everyone appeared either confused or afraid. Surprisingly, it was Jon who broke the stiffness which had caught all the people gathered around the gates.

Breaking the distance, he engulfed the small boy in a firm hug and in between this coldness, Eragon understood Jon had just found back his lost sibling Bran Stark.

But the war was looming, and the following weeks were spent in a hectic frenzy, trying to make sure Winterfell would be able to survive the looming threat. The days were shorter and colder. The enemy was getting closer. They had spent countless hours making strategies, preparing the armies, and building war equipment and siege machines. But in the day, only one thing would matter, just like in Urû'baen: killing the Night King. Once this was done, the threat should -hopefully- disappear.

Nothing was as sure, but this was their best shot.

Eragon had also discovered Jon's siblings who had arrived out of nowhere in their absence. Both of them were thought to be dead, and he knew it had weighed down on Jon's mind. They were intriguing and quite something but couldn't be more different from each other.

Arya was a wildcat. On the outside, she looked like an innocent teenager, full of energy and always looking for mischief. He also knew Jon's deep affection for her. Nevertheless, Eragon knew she wore a mask on her face, hiding her past and what she had been up to for the past few years. The reality couldn't be more different than what she was trying to portray. Had it not been for the attempt on Jon's life, Eragon would have missed it. However, there was no doubt in his mind that Arya Stark had been taught the way of the Assassins. The way her mind was protected, her movements, her skills with a sword … All of this was pointed in the same direction. She hadn't told her family and Eragon knew it wasn't his place to tell. But he knew he would have to be extremely cautious around her, especially after learning about Petyr Baelish's quick and brutal demise during their absence.

During the past weeks, they had done a few drills together. Arya was probably one of the best fighters he had met in Westeros. Her only weakness was her strength. She was stronger than most children and women, but people like Jon or Jaime Lannister could beat her with their superior strength. Still, the precision and speed of her movements were unmatched by anyone other than Eragon and the elves.

And Eragon didn't know what to make of Bran. His mind was unlike anyone he had ever met before. Its mind was an open book, yearning to be read. There was no other way to describe it. While most humans had no protection around their minds and could be compared to open books, Bran's mind was a book screaming to be read.

This wasn't a normal child. He was in a sense like Elva. Someone trapped in a body that wasn't suited for his mind. A child who wasn't a child anymore, wise beyond his years. Bran had seen or felt too much in too little time. His lack of mobility only served to accentuate this feeling of isolation.

The elves had warned him, but it was still unsettling to witness it first-hand. He had lost count of the number of revelations he had obtained from him. He now understood better how the elves had managed to track the Army of the dead so efficiently; It seemed it wasn't their work but Bran's.

So far, his own secrets were safe, but it still troubled Eragon. He knew Jon had told no one about his conversation concerning his parentage, and yet Bran had thanked him for opening the way, before continuing with the most disturbing story Eragon had heard. Within minutes, he learnt that Jon was apparently the legitimate king under Westeros' rules, listening to the story of a father tarnishing his own honour to protect the safety of a child.

If it were to be confirmed and spread around, it would change a lot for the future, especially from the Northern Lords.

They had their fair share of troubles with these. Not many of them were willing to trust Daenerys, and Eragon to a lesser extent. Their pride was just completely misplaced. Some days, Eragon just wanted to bang their heads against the table. Their priorities needed to be sorted out. Saphira was even less patient with them. If Eragon were to repeat half of the things she thought of them, they would definitely be banned from the North, Rider or not. But it had the merit to occupy his mind and make him laugh during meetings where silly and stupid decisions were brought up, and just as swiftly disregarded.

Daenerys kept her head high, even under the bickering she was subject. No one was foolish enough to say it in front of her. But only a fool would be unaware of the tension which lingered in the castle. Eragon was surprised by some people. They were truly unaware of the sacrifices she had made for them. It was a reality even amongst the soldiers. Those who had faced the Army of the Dead would be amongst the first to arrive on the fields to work.

Eragon heard more venom when people talked about Daenerys than when they did about Cersei. The North were a bunch of fools on the verge of refusing the best hope they had to fight against the army of the dead because of decisions made decades ago by ancestors no one had ever met.

He was especially surprised by Sansa's behaviour, acting as Orrin had done against Nasuada. She looked like a petulant child, eager to defend the North while openly criticising Jon's decisions. Politically, this was a bold and daring move. On a personal and familial level, it was petty. These people were completely unprepared for what was coming.

How would they manage to bring a cohesive plan to life if their major struggle was to keep everyone in line? How could these people manage to do politics during these critical times? It felt surreal for Eragon.

But step by step, they managed. Eragon, Jon, Daenerys, Randell Tarlys and half a dozen Northern lords would meet for long hours inside the castle, with the most detailed maps they could find to prepare for the battle. Strategies were exposed, and they would try to guess the course of the battle, especially the start, since this would be the moment where they would be most in control. Randyll Tarly was of precious help, offering clever ideas to beat the first waves of wights that would undoubtedly fall on them.

The most difficult part was to assess what each party was capable of doing. The dragons would take part in the battle, but they had to understand the range of their actions and their abilities properly. It was one thing to know they could breathe fire, another to know for how long and strong the flames were. They also needed to know how many arrows they had at their disposal, the range, and the width of the trenches they could dig …

With each meeting, they tried to go further and further, strengthening their plans, building the weapons needed, and training the soldiers. It was a slow process, each trying to push a hidden agenda forward, trying to protect his positions and armies. And with the same rhythm as the defences outside, a plan was made inside the walls of the Lord's solar. They tried to imagine each and every possibility, possible safeties.

Finally, after countless nights of meetings and endless lays of work, the day had come. There was nothing they could do anymore. They had forged thousands of arrows, imagined dozens of strategies and spared every ounce of energy they could to fuel their wards. All his companions had spent the past few weeks in a relatively similar fashion, saving energy and helping whenever they could. The dragons had also helped with the trenches. With her powerful claws, Saphira was able to match an hour's work done by a dozen men in a few moments.

Eragon had just finished putting Saphira's armour on and was checking Daenerys's dragons. The smiths had noticed the armour and had worked hard to provide something similar. Sadly, with the lack of time and resources, they hadn't been able to provide the same quality as Saphira's. Eragon doubted they could have done something remotely comparable even with all the time and the world's resources. After all, dwarves were known for the genius of their forgery. But still, the protection offered by the few plates of metal was more than decent for Drogon and Rhaegal.

Saphira was a sight to behold, clad in her dark armour. Most of her weak spots were now covered by strong plates of an unknown alloy crafted by Orik's clan. Each piece fitted perfectly with the others, therefore letting her movements keep the same agility and swiftness. Her blue eyes could be spotted between two asymmetrical plates. Staring at them, Eragon only saw two pools of deep love and care.

The last dragon of the pack wouldn't actively participate in the battle and would instead remain behind the walls, and help if the wights were to cross the gates of Winterfell. A few elves would remain close to him to protect him during the battle.

He certainly wasn't obeying them, but Eragon guessed that the long process of healing had allowed the creation of some sort of bond of trust. Daenerys had seemed almost grateful about this development, and a small burden had been lifted off her shoulders when she had learnt about the role of Viserion in the battle.

The latest weeks had also allowed him to strengthen his bond with Saphira. The past days had been spent in a mix of war councils and flying techniques, where both were here for the other, watching, always present. And now, they were ready to face this enemy. Their mind and body were prepared for this.

"Let's dance one last time little one," whispered Saphira with a deep rumble.

Chapter Text

At first, there was nothing. And suddenly, death came in. In the depth of the night, there had been no warning for the sudden onslaught. There was no warning, no war horn, no war cry. But there was no point denying that the battle had started, and they had to fight. The wights had waited during the whole day, at a safe distance from the castle, restless. Now that the sun had disappeared behind the hills, the battle could begin. In earlier battles, hundreds of wights came on them per wave. This battle wasn't going to be like any battle before, now without any wall to stop them, thousands of shrieking wrights were running madly in their direction;

The only barrier between the castle and the seemingly endless army was a thin pack of Unsullied. It seemed to go on and on, never to stop. And they knew that it was but a small part of their army.

Some had voiced the idea of letting the Dothrakis charge and take down the first waves. However, the combined voices of Eragon, Jon and Daenerys had allowed the idea the remain as it was: an idea. This was one of the first rules Eragon had learnt of warfare back in Alagaësia: when possible, fight on your ground, not your enemy's.

From the top of Saphira, Eragon couldn't help but be pleased about this decision. This would have been a slaughter and not a positive one. Nothing but the strongest barrier would be able to stop this, and a thousand horsemen wouldn't have stood a chance.

Big and wide tranches had been made with the notable help of Saphira. This would cut the progression of the wights and force them to enter a few bottlenecks, carefully placed. To prevent them from stopping this issue by filling the holes with wights, dragonglass fragments littered the ground and would kill all the wights who'd jump inside. But this strategy also prevented the use of horses to attack forward, not that it mattered to some Northern Lord when it came to foreign soldiers.

Daenerys and Eragon stood side by side, in the southern part of the castle, where the number of soldiers was minimal. Atop their dragons, they had no trouble watching the battlefront.

This was a unique situation, a battle with the most mind-blowing configuration. A battle where a tireless and endless enemy would clash against the ingenuity and bravery of men.

It wasn't a fight motivated by power-hungry leaders sending their soldiers to fight their battles. The faces around him weren't of soldiers. The soldiers were already outside the protection offered by the thick walls of Winterfell, by their own choice. Eragon was surrounded by farmers, smiths, cooks or even green lads. They were here to protect their children, their family, just like it had been in Urû'baen.

Watching the frantic run of the wights brought more stress than Eragon had thought. But the plan designed by Randyll Tarly was sound and they had to believe in it. They had given a lot of thought, tried to find the pros and cons, and tried to find all the loopholes until the plan looked optimal. If they disrupted it before the battle even started, it would be disastrous.

However, for Eragon, watching a battle unfold from a distance was a new and certainly unwelcome experience. He had scarcely been in a position of spectator before. Drogon was also more unruly than usual, watching and sensing the start of the battle. But Saphira and Daenerys' presences were enough -at the moment- to stop him.

Now, they just had to wait for the army of the dead to get closer to the old walls of Winterfell, where the Unsullied would defend it against all odds. The fight hadn't even started yet, but Eragon had chills watching the battleground. He could see the first lines of wights, running madly to reach the castle, but it was impossible to see the end of it. It seemed to go on forever, an endless moving pool of enemies, bringing in cold and death.

After what seemed like an eternity but was in reality only a few minutes, the first waves crashed into the lines of Unsullied. So far, it looked like the enemy was moving as expected, going through the path they had devised. Already some were dying, stabbed by shards of dragonglass. It was far from being a majority, a hindrance amongst them.

From a distance, it looked like a slow wave, gently rolling and crashing against a thin black wall. But he knew that in the middle of a battle, it was anything but elegant. With his enhanced senses, he could follow the battle. The noises, or more surprisingly, the lack of noise was unsettling. He had heard about the military prowess of the Unsullied, but Eragon had never expected such a strict level of conduct. The only one who seemed to be talking amongst the soldiers was Grey Worm, guiding the lines. He could feel the Eldunaris interest and curiosity, which was high praise since dragons rarely focused on human matters. Wars were always a loud affair and in all the years of the Alagaësian, no army had ever reached such a level of conduct even with the Ancient Language at the disposal of the leaders.

The wights didn't bother with any discretion, and he could hear their eagerness to rip, tear and kill whatever they could reach.

For now, they just had to wait and hope that Grey Worm and his men would be able to keep this chimaera at bay. Because for every enemy they slew, ten more would appear. They hadn't seen any of the White Walkers or the Night King himself, which was a clever and expected move. The Night King had an almost limitless army as long as the White Walkers and himself remained alive.

Bran was confident the vast majority of the White Walkers would remain close to their leader, who would go to the Sacred Wood. He still didn't perfectly understand the unique relationship between these two, but from his previous discussions with the boy and what he had seen, Eragon was ready to believe him. Nevertheless, it would be impossible to protect the small forest with the same quality as the walls, they lacked the infrastructure and numbers to do so.

A few Ironborn had been dispatched to protect Bran. Randall, Jon and Eragon had been incredulous to learn Bran's rebuttal for increased protection. They all knew this reduced inner circle would be helpless to stop the Night King and yet, the young Stark insisted on having them close.

"We have to get ready" started Daenerys, interrupting Eragon's train of thoughts.

She was right. He could see the different bottlenecks getting filled. As they had thought, the wights were starting to jump into the trenches to fill the void. Many fell and instantly died, wounded by one of the pieces of dragonglass which had been dumped the previous weeks. But unsurprisingly, it wasn't enough. It took hundreds of wights to fill a few feet of trenches, a sacrifice they were more than willing to do. At an impressive speed, they were starting to cover the whole trench. This was an inhuman tactic, something that shouldn't be possible. It felt wrong to witness these inhuman creatures jump to their second death.

He wondered how the soldiers on the battlefield felt, watching deceased Brothers of the Night's Watch or Wildling charge and go on a suicide mission. Eragon knew this battle would leave scars on everyone if they survived to bear them.

Nevertheless, Saphira and Drogon swept into the air, followed closely by Rhaegal. Without losing any second, they spread their wings and took the direction of the North, where the fights were going.

They didn't have to wait long. Time was the essence. If they waited too long, the Unsullied would be overwhelmed and defeated. If they attacked too quickly, they wouldn't get as many wights as they would like. A few seconds later, they saw the signs they were waiting for. Most of the holes were filled with wights and the new waves were coming on the Unsullied.

"You know what to do," shared Eragon to Saphira through his bond.

They had prepared this with Daenerys, who was currently guiding Drogon and Rhaegal, on the other side of the castle. Flying above Winterfell, he saw Randyll Tarly's head, guiding the men. He raised his head, watching the dragons take off and fly in the direction of the enemy.

They were close now. He could discern the sea of arms, pushing to their limits to scratch some skin. So far, the lines were holding, but they were on the brink of collapsing.

For a short moment, the long night disappeared. During these few seconds completely out of time, the lights were switched on, for the dragons had joined the battle, and the skies had opened. Fire met ice and life melted death. Drogon, Rhaegal and Saphira were creating a deathly ballet, and Winterfell was their stage. Flames of several colours were licking the ground, purging the soils and cleansing Earth with the warmest and loudest ballet of Westeros' history.

The wights were now trapped, surrounded by a ring of fire and a row of Unsullied. The outcome of the first part of the battle was turning.

The dragons had trapped the wights between a ring of fire and a row of Unsullied, and they couldn't turn back. More importantly, for a short moment, they were deprived of all their reinforcement waiting behind.

For the side of the living, this was an opportunity they couldn't ignore.

"Dothrakis hatif" screamed Daenerys atop Drogon.

And life surged once again on this battlefield. Dothrakis, in tight packs, surged from the inside of Winterfell. Atop of their horses, their arakhs made of dragon glass raised proudly in the air, they went to the battle, fearlessly and loudly. They had to be swift. And swift they were. Without losing any seconds, they started galloping in the direction of the dead, swinging their arakhs, not leaving any chances. Eragon saw Khal Rheja mounting a tall black horse and leading all the other Dothrakis. He was one of the few with two arakhs, one in each hand. Each swing was a clean execution for several wights. Their horses had also been clad in armour to protect them.

He could feel and see several Dothrakis fall under the clutches of some wights, but the number of dead dying to never return was much more important. And within a moment, they completed their lap around the castle, going back into the safety offered by the ancient stone walls, their task done for the moment.

With these recent developments, the Unsullied got some respite. The number of opponents opposing them had been greatly cut down and it became much easier to bring forth their unbreakable shield, and to resist the waves of enemies. These few seconds of reprieve were enough for them to get into position and prepare for the second wave from the Army of the Dead.

The three creatures fire made flesh lived up to their name. It was a slaughter. Caught between two fires, the wights had no way to escape and no way to retaliate.

Nothing at this moment could stop them, not the hundreds of thousands of wights under them nor the harsh cold. This first wave of frozen wights had been completely obliterated while they suffered minimal losses. The wights were unable to attack, stopped in their advance by a wall of fire, restrained in their retreat by another wall of fire.

"The King is on the move," whispered Umaroth, relying on what the other Eldunaris had felt.

He focused his attention on the place spotted by the dragons. True enough, the unmistakable silhouette of the Night King could be seen atop a small hill. The Eldunaris had kept track of his movements, an easy task for them since he was at the centre of the most complex network of connections they had ever seen.

But the most worrying point was the frozen and deadly javelin in his right hand.

"Daenerys, the Night King is here, he's aiming for the dragons," said Eragon to the woman through her mind.

Both had trained together in the past weeks. And while the young woman still couldn't properly formulate or project her thoughts, she was able to properly understand people inside her mind without losing touch with reality, which was already a big step forward for Eragon.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately started to look around, trying to find the Night King. Understanding her fears, Eragon raised his hand to point in the direction where the Night King stood. She followed his hand and her eyes quickly found the king, standing next to this dead horse.

And soon enough, as predicted, the weapon was thrown in their direction with unnatural speed, faster than any human or some elves could have done it. But the dragons and the riders had been warned of this and managed to avoid it without much trouble.

Nevertheless, Eragon still felt the unnatural cold coming from the weapon as it flew a few dozen feet below Saphira's chest before resuming his position above the first waves of wights.

The dragons had left the safety of the walls of the castle barely ten minutes ago, but it had offered a great success for the Winterfell's defenders. They had managed to create a small space where the Unsullied could properly showcase their military prowess and discipline. Now that the threat of the Night King was gone for a least a few minutes, the dragons had free reign to completely free the Unsullied by burning the last wights present on the field.

Thousands of wights had met their end in a few minutes, and their defences had barely been damaged.

It had been a risky move, but all the people defending Winterfell had managed the first step of the plan. Now, they only had to hope the dozen following steps would take the same pattern. But as expected with plans, failures were bound to happen.

The next events brought a sudden end to their slaughter. Eragon felt it before it happened. Some magic was at work, something ancient and powerful. A feeling that gave him the creeps and which he hadn't felt for a long time. Soon enough, the winds started to turn, stronger than ever, fiercer than anything they had ever felt before, cold and harsh. There wasn't any doubt left. Winter was here, and they'd have to fight to survive it.

Saphira had trouble flying properly. Whatever the Night King had done, it was effective. The winds were strong and difficult to navigate, and they were wasting precious energy navigating. Drogon and Rhaegal weren't faring much better. They were moving their wings but obvious difficulties and Daenerys's grip on Drogon's spikes was much tighter than usual.

The fires the dragons had ignited were dying, extinguished by the sacrifices of hundreds of wights and the magic-infused wind. Eragon couldn't understand how such a feat was possible. Manipulating elements was a daunting task, something Eragon wouldn't dare to try in the middle of a battle, especially at such a scale

They had made a dent in the army of the dead, without any scratch on the castle. But they knew they wouldn't be able to repeat this process forever, they had lost the advantage of surprise.

Already, Eragon could see giants making their way toward the castle. And if the boulders he saw in their hands was any indications, they would have to be stopped before reaching the castle. Their defences were already stretched thin, a gap in the walls would be a disaster. Winterfell's thick walls were their biggest advantage, they couldn't afford to lose it.

Unfortunately, these projectiles meant that Daenerys wouldn't be able to take them down with her dragons. The possibility to be crushed by one of these boulders was too important to be ignored. Saphira and the Eldunaris had been very adamant about that point. Daenerys' dragons lacked the skills to keep track and avoid several threats.

The wards around the dragons were strong, but he didn't want to try if test their abilities to survive a dozen boulders the size of a small horse launched at their fragile wings.

Archers would have to take them down and Eragon could see that elves were already on it. One of them, the closest to the castle, had already fallen, struck down by an arrow in his right eye socket.

Blödhgarm, Eragon felt, was communicating the latest development to the others. It would be a strength match. The one with the most strength would be the one who'd be able to overcome the other without getting hit. Arrows against boulders, giants against elves, nature against death.

The wind was still hurling, freezing the soldiers to the bones and deviating the arrows. For most, it wasn't an issue since there wasn't any space wightless, but when it came to the giants, precision was the key. Maudria and his companions hurried to the Northern part of the castle to take the position. They would be closer to the giants, but also more exposed if the wights were to succeed in climbing the walls. But the elves couldn't afford to miss too many times the giants. Eragon dreaded to think about the consequences if some boulders were to impact the fortress. Without a single doubt, the consequences would be disastrous.

Saphira was carefully flying above the battlefield, swiftly joined by Drogon and Rhaegal. Their altitude offered them enough protection to take a small break from the fights. But it also meant that for the moment, no dragons were helping the defenders. They'd have to make a decision soon.

"Her dragons aren't ready; they can't fight the giants" stated Saphira, resuming the discussions held before the battle.

More than this statement, Eragon was still surprised by the conviction behind Saphira's words. Dragons were prideful creatures, so he knew her statement was probably backed up by long and sensible arguments and not out of cowardice.

"I agree with you. What can we do then?" enquired Eragon.

What followed was a quick analysis of the battlefield along with some short but helpful comments from the Eldunaris, especially from Glaedr who had taught Saphira and knew how she flew.

They concluded that Daenerys would wait until the giants were cut down to help. Her dragons weren't ready to properly fight this enemy, having a minimal connection with the Eldunaris and having no real training in the air.

Eragon would take down some of them while Saphira would properly bath the wights with her fire. He readied himself, knowing the next moments would be difficult to stomach. It was a dangerous move, but there were hundreds of giants on the move. Some had already been taken down, but many were still getting closer and there was only so much a dozen elves could kill with their arrows.

Once Daenerys was made aware of the plan, they acted on it. There wasn't any second to lose. Plummeting to the ground, Saphira and Eragon managed to eliminate a handful of giants who were getting too close to the castle in a few seconds. Saphira had come out of nowhere and they never got a chance to respond. Immediately after, she went up, in a straight line. There hadn't been any miss from Eragon's arrows shot during that frame.

And so began a dangerous and awe-inspiring dance between a dragon and its riders and the giants. Eragon and Saphira were in their place, their mind entwined. Such merging was impossible outside of a battle and yet, it offered them a strong edge. Eragon could feel and know how she would adapt to the winds, while Saphira knew when her rider was ready to fire. Her wings were his arms, her arrows were his fire. The giants tried to stop them but it was a complicated task. Their movements were slow and the only projectiles they had at their disposal were the heavy boulders that would inevitably fall on the wights if the giants were to throw them. Nevertheless, Eragon felt his stomach starting to protest. They were alternating sharp dives and powerful ups, at a very quick pace. Never before had they done this at such a quick pace, but they could see the results of their actions. Their actions were having some effects on the enemy too. They were more daring and more careless, ready to throw the heavy stones even if it would crush dozens of wights after. The Night King had also taken notice of the situation.

"Up now Saphira!" said Umaroth hurriedly.

Not questioning the Elder, she immediately complied. Moments later, a spear passed where her left-wing had been a mere second ago before finishing its path inside the chest of the giant they had decided to attack. The Night King was on the move and if the path of the spear was any indication, they were getting closer to the wood.

Looking around, Eragon and Saphira noticed the state of the battle. The large majority of the giants had been slain but the wights were now close to overtaking the castle. Focusing the attention of the dragons at the edge of the battlefield hadn't been without consequences. The wights had taken the opportunity to cross the distance and overcome the Unsullied.

The few Unsullied outside of Winterfell now bore deathly blue eyes, a clear sign that the events had taken a turn for worse. Their first line of defence had fallen, overcome by the sheer numbers of wights. He just hoped that the majority had been able to get inside the castle. Drogon was already on the move, cleaning the path, trying to kill as many as possible now that the giants were gone.

They knew that outside of the castle, their defences were now mostly gone. On the field, nothing was stopping the wights anymore, the different trenches filled to the brim with wight remains, something they'd struggle to clear.

"We have to protect the castle," said Eragon to Saphira. They hadn't expected to be overwhelmed that quickly. The giants had been far more important in numbers than what they had considered, and most had worn armours that protected them from the arrows. Eragon had used most of his arrows to bring them down.

"You know that we can't let the Night King alone with Stark boy and the few defending him," said Saphira

"But if we don't stop the dead, the whole castle will be overwhelmed before we get to the King!"

"This is just like Urû'baen Eragon. You have to trust the different armies and the plan we made. It was and still is sound. Now isn't the time to change everything you discussed in the room with the others."

And he knew she was right. But it didn't make it any easier.

"Saphira and I will go fight the Night King in the Weirwood"

"I'll fight the wight and defend the castle," said Daenerys

There wasn't much to add, everything had been discussed before. Eragon took a last look at Daenerys and her dragons, and made sure the wards were still strong before turning his eyes on the grim-looking forest bordering the Castle; This was their destination. The dragons finally left and went in their respective direction. Saphira flew in the direction of the forest while Drogon and Rhaegal turned back towards Winterfell. Both knew the task awaiting them.

When Eragon arrived above the woods, he knew the Night King was already there. There was a heavy atmosphere, an unnatural cold and a feeling of death deeply rooted, in the tree, leaves and all the small little animals still alive. Eragon had been here before, not later than the day before. But it felt like a lifetime ago if he considered what they felt.

They had to set on the ground to continue their advance. For a moment, they stood still, listening to their surroundings, but the only thing they heard coming from the forest was this unnatural silence.

Further away, the noises of the battle could be heard. Cries from Dothrakis, soldiers and in between, the unmistakable roars from Drogon and Rhaegal and even Viserion. They were all fighting, pushing to cleanse the waves of wights trying the overcome the stronghold of Westeros.

They walked for a few minutes, none willing to break the silence. Nothing had changed. The trees were still here, with wide branches, full of snow and without many leaves. But the atmosphere was much darker, a mix of the night and the ambient and oppressing magic. Each touch made by the Night King seemed to absorb the life from the very ground he walked on. The earth remembered its passage with a shudder and a deep fear. Even if Eragon didn't know the place selected by the Stark seer, he would have found it rather easily. He simply had to take the opposite direction of all the small animals trying to flee this place.

Eragon and Saphira kept walking slowly, making sure no ambush was waiting for them behind the thick trunks. They weren't far from the clearing Bran had chosen. Coincidentally, this was the same place where Jon had been attacked months ago. But knowing Bran, he knew this wasn't a coincidence, though Eragon hadn't given too much thought about it. He had spent more time studying the environment, the weaknesses and the strengths he could get in the field.

The young seer had been adamant about his position during the battle and wouldn't accept any other idea. Even Sansa's or Jon's pleas couldn't waver him during the long days spent preparing for the battle.

Only Theon's pledge to protect him had reluctantly stopped Sansa. But Eragon dreaded to think about their own arrival. He couldn't feel nor hear anything ahead of him, and Saphira only smelt of death.

They had to carry on, quickly, but with precaution. All the noises were dimmed by the snow and as an additional safety, Eragon quickly set up a spell to cover more of their noise. The explanation behind this spell had been rather esoteric, but its usefulness couldn't be denied.

Finally, he spotted the first red leaves from the Weirwood. They were close, but already they knew they had arrived too late. The Night King was already here. The leaves weren't the only touch of red littering the landscape. Blood was now darkening the snow.

Theon and his men had fallen, killed by the legendary creatures.

But Bran was still alive, Eragon could feel it. How he didn't know. But there was no time to ponder his.

"Take right, I take left," said Eragon to Saphira.

Knowing she understood and sensing his agreement, Eragon didn't lose any second. He quickly fired an arrow and before the first one even reached its target; his hand was already aiming for a second arrow.

Saphira, with a mighty roar, jumped, and with some speed, no one would expect from such a large creature, did a small jump before swiftly battling her tail.

Caught completely by surprise, three White Walkers took the blow of her strong tail. But the most surprising part was their sudden disappearance, as Saphira's armour was covered by tiny spikes of dragonglass. Her tail had suddenly become a very dangerous, agile and powerful weapon.

In a mere second, the two had killed five White Walkers. Eragon managed to fire a third arrow, bringing the count to six before they were interrupted in their slaughter.

A mighty roar answered them, and it didn't come from Saphira. Angered by the loss of six of his lieutenants, and probably thousands of wights, the Night King was letting his anger out. There was something primal in this cry. And his anger was taking shape, blowing the winds around them. A blizzard was brewing, powerful, icy and harsh. There was something akin to a dark and cold aura around him, almost palpable.

This was also their first close encounter with the Night King, and they took the opportunity to have a closer look. He didn't look very different from the other White Walkers surrounding him. All their blues eyes were set on them. But they were several differences between the leader and the rest of his army. His eyes were of the same unnatural blue but also reflected a deep and malicious intelligence. His body was for a lack of better word ice made flesh. and he appeared to be wearing an extremely light armour that was almost fused to his body. For some reason, the patterns on this armour looked oddly familiar and with some stupor, Eragon could spot some similarities between his own elvish armour and the Night King's.

He knew where he had seen this and with some wonder, Eragon understood with some wonder he was probably looking at one of Rhunön's oldest crafts and that Eragon's and most of the elvish armours had probably derived from this structure.

The sword hanging at his back gave the impression to be extracted from an unbreakable block of ice. Some blood was tainting its blade.

Bran laid a few feet away, alive, but with his eyes blank, lost in his world and probably completely unaware of his surroundings. At least, he didn't appear to be wounded.

Not losing any second, Saphira let a powerful burst of flames toward the Night King, hoping to create a reaction. They got one, but not the one they expected.

Without any warning, Bran suddenly started to scream in absolute pain. He hadn't been touched by Saphira's flames but it was obvious that there was a direct connection between the way the Night King was bathed in her flames and Bran's pain. The blue dragon was quick to stop her attack. From the corner of his eyes, he saw burns spreading on Bran's face. Eragon frowned, not understanding what was happening. Bran hadn't been closer than 5 feet away from the blue flames and yet, the snow was melting under his body and his skin looked charred. And while it was worrying, there was nothing they could do for they were separated from him by the Night King and his lieutenants.

The whole sequence had barely taken more than a few seconds, and the remaining White Walkers, more than two dozen of them, were starting to move in their direction with a simple objective: to kill them. Saphira and Eragon had lost the element of surprise and would now fight an enemy greater in numbers.

There wasn't any time to lose. If they wanted to survive this, they'd have to dispatch them quickly. Saphira had her fire and dragonglass claws but she clearly lacked some agility and her size would be a strong weakness. If she were to strike, she wouldn't get a second opportunity and the more she waited, the more exposed she'd become. Eragon would have to protect her.

And so, he did. With inhuman speed, he launched himself on the first White Walker, Brisingr in his hand. Surprisingly, the dead man managed to raise a shield to protect himself from the blow. The momentum pushed them both. However, unlike his enemy, Eragon was able to use his left hand during the small drawback.

Snatching his dagger, he threw it in the direction of another White Walker standing close. This time, his speed paid off.

But he had felt Saphira's troubles. She too had managed to kill one of her opponents but a spear was already buried in her left leg. What bothered Eragon the most was the apparent lack of usefulness from the wards he had powered during the previous weeks and enhanced with the Word.

In the meantime, the Eldunaris were pushing their minds together to control the remaining White Walkers and stop them from moving. The exercise was particularly difficult since the icy creatures had no mind, to begin with.

Surprisingly, the Eldunaris weren't completely hopeless to deal with this pellicular situation. At their arrival in Westeros, they probably would have been, however, they had taken it upon themselves to lean to contain mental space. Eragon didn't properly understand the way it worked, but instead of entering the mind and breaking the barrier, the Eldunaris were building barriers all around the minds of their opponent, to keep them trapped in their own mind, blind to their surroundings. It had taken them a lot of time to properly master this, but Eragon could now properly see the value of such a power.

All the Wight Walkers were still, frozen in place and had their eyes closed in concentration. Deep frows could be seen amongst their endless rows of wrinkles. It was easy to perceive their anger while they were pushing hard to break. All the Eldunaris were at work to contain them.

Eragon rushed to protect Saphira. He was worried because he could hear wights coming in. Their screams were getting closer. This shouldn't have been possible but it was too late to worry about it.

They were too close; he could feel it and hear it. If they didn't end this soon, they'd be overwhelmed and would have to fly back, leaving Bran who was completely unreachable at the mercy of the dead.

"Finish the last one Eragon, I'm alright," whispered Saphira.

He could feel her pain as if it was his own, but he knew it would be useless to protest. For once, she was right, it wasn't a mortal wound. Furthermore, she was stubborn and there was no time to lose to change her mind in the middle of a battle.

Acting quickly, he made his way to Night King, killing all the White Walkers in his path, liberating some tension. Saphira was also cautiously destroying some of them with her tail but she wasn't moving her legs. The Night King had his back turned and his hands around Bran's neck.

Eragon was too busy fighting his own opponents. Three White Walkers had managed to get free and were now surrounding Eragon. He knew it would have been foolish to expect the Eldunaris to keep hold of the hundreds of White Walkers. And the three Eragon was fighting were fast and quick to parry each stroke. Lastly, they were definitely stronger than most humans and even some elves. He was trying his best to finish this as quickly as possible, to save Bran and to leave the place before it got swarmed by wights.

Finally, it was Saphira who gave him the opening. She directed him and suddenly, a jet of flames erupted from her maw. Two White Walkers were immediately burnt to crisp. The last White Walker was quick enough to avoid the path taken by the flames. But the distraction was just what Eragon needed. Without losing any second, he jumped in the direction of his left side, which was now completely exposed and brought Brisingr in the direction of his opponent

His aim was proven true and seconds later, the ground was covered by small particles of what remained of the White Walker.

The Night Kind stopped his movement, his left-hand mere inches from Bran's unconscious face. His face was just as blue from the cold as the long fingers of the Night King.

But it wasn't the loss of another lieutenant which made him pause. He had stopped to care the moment his hand had laid on Brain. Just like Eragon, he had felt the presence and the arrival of someone.

But it was impossible since he couldn't hear any dragons and they couldn't hear the characteristic sound of boots crushing snow. Nevertheless, less than a second later, a lone figure seemed to fall from the sky. He thought it was a bird at first, but within a second, he was proven wrong.

The night was dark but there wasn't any place for mistakes. It was Arya Stark who, for some reason, had decided to attack the Night King, jumping from a tree she had silently climbed. He couldn't dare to think about how she had reached this place without being swarmed by wights.

But just like Eragon, the Night King had felt her arrival. And without batting a sweat, he stopped her momentum. A cold hand was wrapped around her neck and her feet were now helplessly kicking the air. Bran was dropped to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. But there was nought Eragon could do. Four more White Walkers had joined the battle and he was constantly dodging their blows and most of his attention was spent on his own fight. How many more were present, Eragon didn't know. The Eldunaris were doing their utmost to stop them, burnt quickly by Saphira, but more were coming. Eragon could only wonder about the number of White Walkers still alive. For some reason, only White Walkers were coming from Winterfell so far, and no wights yet.

However, from the corner of his eyes, he saw the evolution of the altercation between Arya Stark and the Night King. A glint of silver caught his attention and he was almost stabbed in the guts by a White Walker for his lack of attention. He narrowly parried the frozen sword and, with a quick and brutal mental attack, stopped his enemy just enough to kill him. He was keeping an eye on Arya but there was nothing he could do. He was seconds away from reaching them, but there was much that could happen with such an opponent.

She had tried to switch the position of the dagger, from one hand to another, only for the Night King to stop her right hand with his own. The delicate dagger fell with a soft thud on the thick layer of snow and Arya was now completely powerless. Her eyes went wide, betraying the fear she was feeling. She had had one plan, and it was now lying hopelessly on the ground. Her feet were helplessly kicking the air, losing strength quickly.

Eragon and Saphira were both making their way toward the Night King but they were dealing with their own share of enemies. The Eldunaris too were working, trying to control the situation as much as possible. Several White Walkers could be seen frozen in place, and they would be quickly slain d by Eragon or burnt to ashes by Saphira. But they would inevitably be replaced as more White Walkers kept coming.

He just needed a small opening to help the young girl.

A deep and loud scream from the Night King stopped them in their tracks. Turning, he saw the reason of the scream. Two arrows were buried on his shoulders, launched by Eragon after Saphira had managed to burn eight White Walkers with a well-aimed burst of flames.

These arrows had been carefully crafted before the battle, sung during long hours in dark and cold nights preceding. Magically enhanced, they were meant to pierce through all the wards erected by the old foe and to ignore all the winds. However, the arrows weren't made of dragonglass. They had found out that if they were to push too much magic in this material, it would simply shatter. Nevertheless, the elves had turned to their old craftmanship and so they had sung and created deathly arrows, arrows that could now almost be compared to the Dauthdaert given how dangerous and deadly they had become. Thus, the Night King was angry, wounded, but definitely alive.

In his anger, he had dropped Arya who was now on the ground, liberated from his deathly grip. However, she remained unmoving in the snow. She was alive, but unconscious just like her brother. There could already spot blue marks on her neck where the Night King had held her. She was clearly in deep need of some medical treatment.

Fortunately for her, the elves had arrived. With the death of so many White Walkers killed by Eragon and Saphira, the situation had evolved around the Castle. Many wights had perished, a direct consequence of the connecting process in the Army of the Dead. While the battle was still waging, the defenders were now able to properly resist and some of the elves had decided to join them against the core of the cold army.

Nonetheless, they hadn't come alone. Hot on their heels, wights were following them, having sensed the damages done to the Night King and the death of several White Walkers. Their screams could be heard, echoing in the forest and promising a thousand deaths.

The last battle was starting now and would decide the outcome of the war. Winterfell had held, now, they'd have to finish this. They wouldn't get any second chance but they had known this for a moment.

He could feel his body growing tired. His arms were getting heaving, after fighting and parrying strong blows, just like Saphira. Her body was sore, after long hours wearing her armour and she had a few cuts, mostly on her wings. It certainly looked impressive, as usual, but it was still a minor cut for a dragon. The only major wound she had sustained so far was the javelin stuck in her leg.

With more people around him, Eragon had more freedom to advance toward the Night King. Saphira was staying behind to kill the wights. He knew he wasn't leaving her defenceless with the elves in place. Against such a foe, her flames were their best weapon available. There was no need for precision, she would always be able to touch at least a few dozen of them.

As it happened, this new situation had created a small circle around Eragon and the Night King. Only Bran and Arya, who were both lying unconscious a few feet away from Eragon, were inside that circle. Unless the elves were defeated, no one would be able to break Eragon's concentration.

With inhuman speed, Eragon was forced to parry. The blow had more strength and speed than what he had expected. But his mind was still sharp and was suddenly completely focused on the fight. They started to exchange blows, to parry and duck. Neither was holding back. The intensity behind each move was staggering.

The snow was making it harder to move and Eragon was noticeably more static than usual.

Like Glaedr had advised him a lifetime ago, he could see his opponent. Nothing else mattered at this stage, he trusted Saphira and his friends to protect him from the others.

His mind was hyper-focused, preparing each hit, each feint while trying to surround his opponent's mind. Brisingr in his hand was aflame. He had pronounced its name at some point, but he wasn't sure when. His sword was just a blur in the cold night, moving

But the Night King was just as reactive, moving very quickly and matching every hit. His mind was an ice fortress, with slippery walls unable to break while fighting and Eragon was kept on his toes. There was no pattern he could find, each move was different from the previous ones. His arms were getting numb and his sword was getting heaving in his right hand. Each blow was felt through his entire arm.

But he kept going, trying every trick in his book to gain some ground to no avail.

A sudden feeling of despair coming from Saphira stopped Eragon in track. It had been sudden and she had quickly retracted behind her own shields when it had happened, but he had felt it nevertheless.

This small distraction cost him as the Night King landed the first wound, on his right leg. The fight suddenly got more difficult, as he couldn't move his left side as freely as he would have liked.

Surprisingly, the Night King didn't push his advantage. On the opposite, he was also slower, tacking a few seconds between each stroke. They were evenly matched, but Eragon kept worrying about Saphira's reaction.

The Night King changed the tempo of his attacks and Eragon was put on the defensive. After a quick succession of feints and botte, Eragon fell to the ground with a surprising kick in his stomach which left him panting on the ground, with Brisingr raised to protect him from the impending blow. But it never came.

Instead, the Night King had decided to thrust his sword inside Bran's stomach, who, unconscious, didn't offer any resistance. He felt the life escape the young man's body. As soon as it happened Eragon knew there was nothing he could do. He could already feel Bran's mind weakening, his energy fleeing his body, and yet, there was some unexpected energy, something he couldn't understand fully.

Bran's mind had always been an oddity, akin to a book screaming to be read. But in his last moments, his mind seemed to shift. Something that was beyond words. The change was violent and unexpected from Eragon's point of view. Bran's mind had decided that he would be reached, something Eragon wasn't aware of until he felt the flow of information reaching his mind, which was supposed to be impossible. But somehow, Bran had managed to break his defences or had found a way to share memories of his last heartbeats without entering one's mind.

The latter seemed to be the case since Saphira and the Night King were also frozen in place, under the load of information they were receiving. Images from the past or a future that had yet to come were flowing in their mind, without any apparent logic. It lasted a lifetime and was gone in a split of a second. As quickly as it had started, it was over. Bran's presence was gone, and so was his understanding of all this knowledge he had apparently shared.

During these everlasting seconds, the battle had been on hiatus, a nightmare distanced by a thin and fragile bubble. And like each bubble, it was bound to burst.

It was the Night King who decided to break it. Following the death of the young see, he seemed to get a new burst of energy. raised his hand in the air and Eragon's eyes widened in understanding. Jon had shown this in his memories and there was no way Eragon would let this happen. If the Night King were to bring back all the dead back to life, defeat would become unelectable.

But he could feel the first waves of the new spell already, the web of emptiness he could feel from his mind, expanding, looking to grip on new wights. The process was inhumanly fast. It was sickening just to feel it happening. He couldn't even fathom how he did it, since the dead didn't leave any mental offprint except for Eldunaris. And no one was able to stop it, the White Walkers had also felt the tides were changing and were fighting with a newfound energy the elves and dragons.

With a wince, Eragon put himself back on his two feet and healed the wound on his leg with a few words in Ancient Language. The tingles quickly spread and managed to stop the bleeding. It wasn't perfect, but it would stop him from bleeding too much.

Around him, he could see some movements already. The dead were also rising in the forest and would soon be onto them. The grounds were shacking, moved by an invisible enemy.

Was there fear he could feel coming from the Eldunaris and the elves?

With a wince, he pushed himself to his feet, only to be almost knocked over immediately after.

Saphira had taken charge of the situation in a fit of anger and urgency.

With a speed unexpected for someone so large, she surged from behind Eragon, breaking the lines without any apparent care for the elves and White Walkers alike. No one had time to react while she surged and hit the Night King with her right paw against Winterfell's Weirwood with a loud thud.

Unfortunately, this part of her armour no longer held Dragonstone, the fragments were long gone and dislodged after the several fights Saphira had been through.

Ignoring the pain, Eragon jumped with Brisingr ablaze and ran in the direction of the Night King, who was still stunned from Saphira's stunt. He could feel that moment, where Brisingr's tip touched the frozen armour of the Night King, tearing it, burying itself inside the Night King's chest.

It happened instantly.

At some point, they were all fighting against a deadly and immortal army, composed of hundreds of thousands of foes. The next one, nothing was left but a few ashes on the ground, and a blazing sword, stuck in the bark of the old Weirwood.

The magical backlash washed over the whole country and Eragon couldn't believe what we feeling. He stood, frozen for a few seconds as he felt the power of the Night King fade away, melting like snow under the blazing sun. Only now did he realize the true impact and the scale this immortal threat had presented. He could have stood over a sheet of paper for hours, and still, he wouldn't be able to properly explain the changes he had felt at this moment.

His mind was cold and numb, exhaustion catching up on him. The sun was rising on the horizon, meaning they had fought during the whole night. The adrenaline of it was leaving him. He sat on the muddy ground. The snow here had since long melted, under Saphira's influence. He was still catching up with what had just happened. This was the second war he ended in a few months' time.

Chapter Text

Nature was crying in joy at its newfound freedom, liberated from its frozen chains. Everyone had seen the people being raised and chained into obedience. But Eragon and the Eldunaris had felt the true extent of the madness when they had arrived at the Wall for the first time. They had seen the slow corruption of the whole country and of nature. This was over now and nature was singing its joy inside Eragon's mind. A fleeting emotion, of pure and boundless raw joy, after its slow and long corruption.

The wait was over, but Eragon didn't have time to relinquish this.

As soon as the Night King had fallen, Saphira had urged him to climb on his back

"Climb on me, fast"

When he had tried to protest and to try to heal her, she had growled menacingly and almost tried to scoop him to climb faster. Sensing the urgency in her voice, he didn't question her and they left before the ashes of the Night King had completely fallen. The elves were left in the Weirwood to deal with the Stark children and to make sure the threat was completely gone. Eragon trusted his dragon and knew everything would make sense rather sooner than later but for now, time seemed to be of the essence.

He could feel her pain but she kept pushing, flying quickly to the inner walls of Winterfell.

After only a few seconds, they got their first glimpse of the fortress after the battle. The Castle was just as wounded as the people who had protected it. Walls had been destroyed, blood was mixed with the snow and bodies littered the whole place. It felt surreal, given that

But Eragon looked past all this, for he had something else more worrying in mind.

As they flew in the direction of Winterfell, he understood the reason for Saphira's worry. During his fight against the Night King, all the remaining White Walkers had attacked Daenerys and her dragons. Both dragons had been hit by spears but Rhaegal seemed to be in a critical state.

Most worrying was the fact that a few elves had remained with the Targaryen Rider instead of coming to the woods should have been able to protect the dragons. The White Walkers should have been easily dealt with, and the wards surrounding the dragons were strong enough to withhold anything short of a whole turret collapsing on them.

They arrived in the middle of a warzone. What had been a peaceful place, covered by snow 24 hours ago was now unrecognizable. There was a feeling of despair in the air. The majority of the snow had melted, mixing with mud, blood and wights' remains. Small fires still lingered left and right.

The smell was unbearable, a mixture of gore and decayed flesh.

But all of this mattered little to Eragon and Saphira. Their whole attention was turned on the two dragons who were laying on the ground.

Daenerys stood next to them, alive but in deep pain though she didn't have any serious apparent wound. Saphira hadn't completely landed that Eragon was already jumping, walking in the direction of Daenerys. He had recovered some energy stored in Brisingr's sapphires. But he dreaded what he would see. Because Rhaegal was dead, his presence completely gone and every step he was taking only seemed to confirm this harsh truth.

Daenerys tear-streaked face proved she had reached the same conclusion. The body of the green dragon had been hit with several spears. His throat, back, left wing and chest had been pierced by frozen javelins, some of which were still deeply buried inside of his body. Drogon's right wing had also been pierced and one of his legs looked broken.

"Please Eragon save them" begged Daenerys as soon as she saw him.

But he knew no words or spell would be able to bring Rhaegal back. Brom's face, kept in his priceless sepulchre came to his mind.

Eragon's face and lack of movement must have betrayed him because she fell on her knees, losing the last bit of control and hope she had and he felt his chest tighten at the painful memory.

Drogon, probably sensing the pain of Daenerys let out a sorrowful roar, coming to the same conclusion as all the people present.

"There's nothing I can do for Rhaegal now. He's gone Daenerys" whispered Eragon softly. Behind him, Saphira let out a sorrowful roar, mirroring the great pain she was feeling.

He felt helpless in this situation. A taste of bittersweet after their hard-earned victory.

"I … I will heal Drogon now. The wounds look serious and painful" finished Eragon

There was nothing she could do but nod and Eragon slowly made his way toward Drogon. He felt numb and in pain, but he felt it owed it to Drogon and Daenerys.

Slowly, softly, he began to sing, to heal the black dragon. It was a long and tedious task, one he was all too familiar with, having performed it on Saphira several times, though she had scarcely been that wounded. His first move was to make sure there wasn't any internal bleeding, before turning his attention to Drogon's wing, which had been broken in several places. Only then did he start singing, softly, not to startle Daenerys.

It was a new tone, that felt natural after the events of the day, where the pain and sorrow could be felt, along with some hope lingering. One by one, he felt all the bones coming back together, fusing, smoothing the cracks until they weren't any left. The Eldunaris were helping him silently, offering him the last bits of energy he needed.

Finally, after some time, he felt confident the right-wing wouldn't suffer any lasting damage and he set his work on Drogon's left leg. The job here was easier for Eragon, the damages were less important. No bones had been broken, only muscles that had been shredded. This required less finesse but more energy, which was once again provided by the Eldunaris.

He was completely exhausted. The sun was slowly emerging behind the forest. They had fought and defended Winterfell the whole night. He was knackered, from the fights, the energy spent healing, warding, using magic … The Night King and the army of the dead had vanished, but their own army had taken their toll. Rhaegal was a painful reminder of this. It felt all the more surreal since all the dead were their own. The entire enemy army had vanished and it looked like they had fought for nothing.

Drogon had now stopped bleeding but he remained there, sitting painfully close to his dead sibling, also completely exhausted from the night's fighting. His eyes were closed, only letting small groans. He has lost a serious amount of blood but was now out of danger.

Eragon didn't know how dragons mourned. Glaedr's loss had been in the middle of the war. But he guessed Saphira, Drogon and Viserion would deal with it on their own terms, just like he and Daenerys would.

He had one last task to complete before he could sleep. Taking a deep breath, he left Drogon's side and went to Saphira. He took comfort in her presence and for a few seconds, he remained at her side, taking solace in her presence, absently stroking her chest but he quickly stopped. She too had been wounded on her left leg and he wasn't about to let the pain continue.

As usual with dragons, it looked impressive but he knew it wasn't critical. Nevertheless, he tapped into the energy stored in Brisingr to heal her. Absently, he noticed he had emptied most of his reserves. Aren and the sapphires in his sword were now depleted of energy, something which had never happened before. But in his current state of tiredness, this situation left him pretty much indifferent.

He healed her wound, methodically, bringing his mind close to hers, and looking for some comfort in her presence after this surreal night. No more thoughts were shared, they simply relinquished to be reunited and were mourning for those who had left them.

Her wound was the easiest to heal and he was quickly done with it. Turning, almost falling from the lack of energy, he turned to find Daenerys. She hadn't moved and stood next to Drogon, her face stuck in a mask of pain and sorrow.

Silently, he walked the few steps separating him from her. Absently, he noticed all the snow had melted and already, the day felt warmer than what it had been the previous days. She didn't react to his presence, didn't move.

He simply offered his hand to Daenerys who took it, clutching it almost painfully.

No words from Eragon would help her at this point. And Eragon didn't know if he could properly do anything. The past fifteen minutes had been unreal. After fighting and killing the Night King, he stood next to one dead dragon, clutching Daenerys close as she sensed the loss of Rhaegal and cried the loss of one of her children, the minutes were a blur.

The bond a Rider shared with his dragon -or dragons in Daenerys' case- was a blessing most of the case. But its backlash was unbearable in those few cases.

Eragon sensed the arrival of the other elves who had remained in the castle. Viserion also was here, gingerly half flying, half walking, followed by his guards. He could see also some bystanders, watching curiously but not daring to get closer to the dragons.

Eragon couldn't help but notice some absences in the ranks of the elves. Five of them were missing, something most unusual.

He would later learn that three of them had died while purring energy to ward Rhaegal from the spears. The two others had been wounded while fighting White Walkers or wights, who had come in waves to overcome the dragons. The whole castle had been on the edge of collapse when Eragon had killed the Night King, who had let loose of all his army in the final moments. The elves' magic hadn't worked as intended just like in Urû'baen.

The icy weapons had been able to cut through many layers of wards, more than what they expected. The magic here was foreign, aggressive and older than what they were used to and had worked in most unexpected ways.

He knew he would miss the presence of these elves with whom he had shared a lot these past months. But the moment to mourn would come later. At this point, Eragon even doubted he could feel a lot. He felt empty, washed up. All the adrenaline and stress accumulated during the previous weeks was leaving him and he could feel his exhaustion catching up.

"Let's get some rest," said Eragon, both verbally and mentally.

There were many wounded in the castle but he knew that if he didn't take a short break soon, he would collapse and make terrible mistakes.

The fights had taken their toll, and healing Drogon, Saphira and his own wounds had been the last stroke. Saphira and he had been in relatively good shape, especially compared to the others, but healing dragon wounds, even the most benign, always required a lot of energy.

Eragon wasn't particularly eager to go back to the castle, where he predicted many would be fasting. With a common agreement, Saphira and he took a few steps, making some distance between them and Rhaegal, before simply falling on the exterior side of Winterfell. Drogon had followed them, keeping a close eye on Daenerys, with the elves closing the group. Daenerys was still clutching his hand and while he felt some resistance leaving Rhaegal, she followed silently, probably understanding what they were doing.

Without further ado, he simply laid against her side and closed his eyes. There was nothing else to do. Daenerys laid close to him. Drogon and Viserion came close, protecting their mother. In these tragic times, they were trying to keep her warm and protected.

When Eragon snapped his eyes open a few hours later, he felt more ready to face the challenge the day would surely bring. Daenerys was still asleep and was surrounded by Drogon and Rhaegal.

Her face was set in a mask of sadness and he could see streaks of dry tears on her cheeks, puffy and red from the warmth provided by the dragons. Last night had been hard for her, and he knew the following days would be even harder, as the loss of Rhaegar would be felt. This was a wound that would never completely close, Eragon knew it.

He remained still for a few moments, watching the slow breathing of the dragons. No one had dared to disturb them and he couldn't feel anyone close to them.

Without waking her, he extracted himself from Saphira's wings before slowly stretching his limbs. After a whole night fighting and wearing his heavy armour, his muscles definitely felt stiff, especially his right arm which had wielded Brisingr during long and painful exchanges with the Night King. He would need to follow with some Rimgar exercises once he was sure everything had cooled down in Winterfell. Drogon had felt him move and was looking at him intently but wasn't making any threatening move. Just like Saphira, he was guarding his rider.

He knew his help would be required quickly at the castle, but he couldn't let Daenerys alone in such a state. But he needed to learn about the battle, the casualties and the burning topics. The whereabouts of the missing elves were weighing on his mind.

"Go Eragon, I'll stay with her," told Saphira softly, letting a soft grumble.

He was surprised by this omission. Such tokens of kindness towards humans were rare from Saphira. But the loss of Rhaegal had taken its toll on all of them.

After stretching his muscles one last time, he started going back to the castle, to meet with the Westerosi.

During the short walk to the castle, he kept talking to Saphira and the Eldunaris, who had followed the aftermath while they were resting. From what they had understood, the losses had been important, something quickly confirmed by what Eragon could see around him.

People were buzzing, collecting corpses, clearing the walls of the castles, removing rumbles ... The losses were important, both in terms of destruction and in human lives. The battle hadn't been contained outside the thick walls of Winterfell. No matter where he looked, he could see remnants from the fights, be it rumbles or corpses. He was starting to think all the castle had been swarmed and thought about the civilians who had been confined in the basements. Eragon hoped they hadn't been ambushed, since he knew they had close to no defence. The Eldunaris couldn't offer many answers there, having heard little about the fate of the children and the elders.

People had started to notice him during his short walk and whispers followed him. They tried to be discrete about it, to no avail since Eragon was able to understand it perfectly with his enhanced hearing.

"Saviour", "Kingslayer", and "Targaryen boy" were some of the words he could hear as he walked by the men. He noticed more warmth, and kindness coming from Daenerys's soldiers, compared to the Northerners. They were still wary of the dragons and, mixed with the adulation, he could perceive some fear and mistrust.

But it didn't matter. He needed to understand what had happened during the battle. He had received a good overview but he wanted to hear what they had to say. First, to see if some information was lacking on either side and second, to hear their point of view. Dragons and elves tended to see things with a different perception than humans.

Entering the great hall, he wasn't surprised to find broken furniture littering the ground. The wights had been able to enter the building. Thankfully, the damages in this room appeared to be only material. A table, which appeared to be the only one not destroyed, had been set up with bread and wine. Jon was there too, with his sister Sansa.

Tormund was the first to catch sight of him and to make his presence known

"Here comes the Night Killer" he shouted with a boisterous laugh, lifting his glass full of ale in a welcoming gesture.

He was glad to see the wildling had survived the battle. He appreciated his honesty. The ginger man was never afraid to speak up his mind and would never hide his opinion. He didn't seem wounded, except for a few scratches. Knowing the wildling, it was a miracle he hadn't sustained more injuries since had probably gone into the battle headlong. But behind the mirth in his voice, his eyes spoke volumes. There was a spark of darkness in them, a small window to see all the horrors he had lived during the previous night. Despite his presence here, a part of Tormund had left during the battle, while fighting side by side with but also against fellow wildings.

Nevertheless, Tormund's shout had attracted the attention of all the people inside the room and all the eyes turned on him instantly. He remained for a few seconds frozen in place, hating to be the centre of attention in times like this.

"Go Eragon, don't remain frozen like this," said Saphira encouragingly.

Step by step, he kept walking, ignoring the whispers who erupted. He stopped at Tormund's side for a brief moment before continuing his reaching the high table where Jon and Sansa and a few lords were seated and were probably discussing before Eragon's entrance. Now, they were intently watching him.

"Jon, Lady Sansa, I'm happy to see you both survived this night" started Eragon

"So am I. The North and Westeros in general owe you for what you've done Eragon. Thank you" answered Jon. His tiredness was plain to see. He probably hadn't rested since the end of the battle, barely two hours ago.

Sansa merely nodded but refused to meet his eyes.

It suddenly dawned on Eragon that Bran had died and that they were grieving the loss of their sibling. With the rush caused by the end of the fight and Rhaegal's death, Eragon and Saphira had completely forgotten about the small boy who had been the last victim of the Night King.

"Is Arya going to be ok?" enquired Eragon.

Sansa's eyes looked up but it was Jon who answered once more

"She will be. Her wounds were deep but her life isn't in danger anymore."

"That's good to hear. I'm sorry for your loss. Bran was a good and smart boy and he certainly didn't deserve to die," replied Eragon, uncomfortable talking about the strange Stark boy.

They exchanged a few more words but he felt the weight this conversation was bringing and decided to let it go. They were grieving and he definitely felt out of place. The other lords were also merely watching him like a dangerous prize, an asset they hadn't properly qualified yet.

But all of this mattered little to Eragon. He had done his part, and couldn't care less at the moment about foreign politics made by foolish stubborn people. They were also places where his presence would be much more valued. Thus, he decided to leave to go where all the wounded had been gathered.

Fortunately, or not depending on the perspective, it was easy to find the place. The smell and the noise gave it away. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he was going in the right direction. When he arrived, he was met by a rather gruesome sight. Dozens upon dozens of people were lying, on thin mattresses laid on the ground. The whole room was filled to the brim. Some of them were sleeping, and others were screaming in pain. Many faces were tense, definitely in pain. Several maesters were acting hastily, offering unknown concoctions, patching wounds, and trying their best to save as many as they could.

Many soldiers were suffering from frostbite or similar injuries. The fights had been long and many wounds had been sustained. The list went from minor wounds and frostbites to rather gruesome open wounds or missing limbs. Some of them had been sustained while fighting White Walkers with their unique weapons, which made it all the more complicated to heal. Eragon knew Viserion had suffered a lot from the consequences of his own wounds received at the Wall.

He made his way towards them. This was where he would be the most useful, healing those beyond help for Westerosi healers. He wasn't in the mood to partake or cheer. And the sentiment was shared by the Eldunaris and Saphira.

They had hoped that Shruikan's death would be the last for decades, but fate had decided otherwise. Another dragon had been slain mere months after the death of Galbatorix. There was almost a sense of doom and resignation amongst them and Eragon couldn't blame them.

The next hours were spent bringing back those who should have been doomed. Most of them were unconscious and didn't offer any resistance. Most of the wounds didn't require more than one or two words in Ancient Language. He was continuously mending bones and repairing muscles.

The maesters too, having seen first-hand Eragon's magic saving Jon Snow, didn't even try to oppose him. It would be fruitless, and Eragon was concentrating his efforts to save soldiers who were beyond saving for the Westerosi healers. News of his victory against the Night King had reached them and he could see the respect in their eyes.

During that time, he could feel Saphira's presence, bringing him all the energy he needed. He could feel her vulnerability, her fear and sadness. He knew that somehow, she felt responsible for Rhaegal's death, just like she had been moved when Viserion had been wounded. He knew Umaroth had been talking to her, sharing his own experience, having also lost his whole pack during the war against Galbatorix.

Muscles were mended, bones repaired and wounds were protected against infection. Eragon couldn't completely heal all these people, but he had the ability to save them from dying.

But his concentration was broken when he heard that Daenerys had woken and would be coming to the castle herself. In a matter of a few seconds, she got surrounded by Unsullied and Dothrakis who took it upon themselves to escort their Queen to the castle's safety. Eragon managed to follow her walk through Saphira's eyes.

He heard Saphira explaining to Daenerys where he was before she went back to rest. Outside, he could feel the castle buzzing with activities. Quietness wouldn't come anytime soon at Winterfell, not after having fought a large-scale battle like this.

There was a strange atmosphere floating around. There was a definite sense of relaxation, of freedom gained back. But the losses were important and many people were still missing. For these, the worst was imagined. The conditions outside of the castle were still harsh, even though the blizzard brought by the Army of the Dead was gone. The chances of survival were dimming with each passing hour.

When he shared his observations to Saphira and the Eldunaris about the apparent lack of joy, their answer was most enlightening:

"Not many people got the full scale of the enemy Eragon. You must understand that many fought in Du Fyrn Svell for the first time yesterday, against an enemy they had never seen. Only a few of them, like Jon Snow properly understood the threat they represented. For the rest, this was just another war, motivated by leaders who lived with luxury. For the commoners, the difference between fighting soldiers, wights, dragons or even frozen spiders is non-existent. They put their lives in danger, risk their crops and usually fight without a real purpose. Sadly, this is what happened with the Usurper too. Only a few like Oromis truly understood quickly the danger Galbatorix represented. I'm ashamed to say Valdr and I let the problem linger far too long," answered Umaroth.

Eragon sent the equivalent of a mental nod. He knew it was still a sore point for most of these elders, having been caught in their sense of self-security.

But their mental comparison of the way people acted here and the Riders of before was interrupted by the arrival of Jon Snow in the middle of the room transformed into a hospice.

If possible, the room got more silent. The few wounded who weren't asleep turned their heads to watch the hardened man. The whimpers dropped. Even Eragon had stopped casting, knowing starting a spell now would be ridiculous. The whole attention of the room was split between the two of them, trying to catch the conversation that would start. But it seemed that Jon would remain true to his reputation of being a man of a few words.

His eyes went on Eragon and with a quick gesture of his hand, indicated that he wanted to talk outside.

Being done for the moment and seeing no one on the verge of dying, Eragon followed him. With the recent arrival of Daenerys, he had a good idea of Jon's request. He followed him in the cold corridors of Winterfell until they arrived at the familiar solar.

Eragon was quite familiar with this room, having spent countless hours with countless lords to prepare for the battle. Thus, he didn't linger on the shelves filled with scrolls and books on the back nor on the large map of Westeros displayed on a wall. When he entered the room, he was greeted by several of said lords. It became obvious that the battle had taken its toll. Where once they had all been cramped around the table to have a good view of the battlefield that had been drawn, they now were able to move freely in the luminous room. Some of them were in the room Eragon had just left. Others, less fortunate, had been killed during the battle.

No one mentioned it, but it was at the forefront of everyone's mind. Daenerys was also present, in the corner. She still looked extremely pained and tired after the events that took place a few hours ago. He noticed that as usual, no one was talking to her, even if today, not many were talking in general.

He noticed her eyes on him when she became aware of his entrance and he gave her a small nod. She looked just as sad but a bit less tired than the last time he had seen her.

Behind him, Jon took his place in the middle of the room. He acted as the rallying point between all the Northern Lords, the wildlings, Daenerys, her armies, and Eragon.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice" started Jon, his voice firm. Eragon could detect a small flick of tiredness in his voice though and he guessed that the young man had probably slept as much as Eragon, perhaps even less.

Jon carried, intending to finish this discussion rather quickly to earn some rest.

"The Night King has fallen and we won the battle at the cost of countless sacrifices"

Shouts erupted from several lords who made their agreement vocal, forcing Jon to pause again. He let the lords celebrate for a few seconds before catching their attention and resuming:

"As you've probably heard and seen, the Night King was defeated early in the morning by Eragon, ending the Army of the Dead. The losses have been important and I know the masters are still counting the people missing. We won and I feel myself fortunate to be alive and share this special day with you. While we will celebrate this victory, we need to be aware that now is the time for reconstruction. Winter is here, and we will need to survive it."

Chapter Text

The next day was completely dedicated to the sacrifices of those who had lost their lives against the army of the dead, fighting for the freedom of Westeros. A great number of small pyres had been erected where the battle had been not two days ago. It was only at this point that he understood the true scale of the battle. Many had been lost. And it was without counting those killed at the battle of the Wall, the wildlings caught North of the Wall or even Rhaegal. No one would truly be able to know the true scale of the losses.

Once again, it was Jon who spoke to the people who gathered to pay their respect to the fallen. He acted as the bridge between all these different cultures and people and was respected by many.

With a frown, Eragon suddenly became aware he couldn't remember a similar event taking place in Alagaësia. The war had always prevailed and after Urû'baen, the Vardens and the dwarfs had been caught in the euphoria of the battle. The dead had been buried and honoured but victory had been celebrated with many banquets. Only the elves had done something for their losses but Eragon hadn't been able to attend.

Caught on in his thoughts, he barely caught the end of Jon's short speech

"The gratitude of every home in the North, in Westeros and Essos, goes to these soldiers, farmers, smiths, or cooks who, undaunted by the odds, unwearied in the mortal danger, turned the tide of this war by their prowess and by their devotion. Never in the history of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few. "

Eragon found it fitting, knowing how true Jon's words were. Westeros had a debt to the North that could never be repaid.

A long silence answered Jon's speech, no one daring to break it. Finally, the Northman took a few steps forward with a torch. A beacon of light after the dark days they had gone through.

It sprung the bystanders into action. All of those who had been given a torch before also started going forward in the direction of the pyres. Eragon and Daenerys were among them and went to lit up the wood structure. Saphira couldn't stop herself from making a small comment

"You're the only here one who has a dragon and a sword whose true name is fire, and yet, you are putting a wood structure on fire with another small wooden stick. Humans truly make no sense" she grumbled

Eragon smirked but couldn't really refute her since she was true - "As always" came her inevitable reply-.

Nevertheless, he followed the lead and ignited one of the pyres. He didn't want to think about the corpses being ignited, their losses felt as he joined back the crowd, small than it had been days ago. Everyone watched as the flames consumed the bodies of those fallen against the frozen enemy which had now disappeared. There wasn't a sound to be heard except for the soft crackling of the wood.

But he realized the people didn't want to spend more time than necessary outside. It was cold and it probably felt wrong watching people who had shared a mug of ale or exchanged a good word only a few days ago burn to ashes. In a way, they would pay their respect by living.

And so pretty quickly, the majority left the outskirts of Winterfell to reach the Great Hall where a banquet would be served. The prospect of a few mugs of ale and a warm room was more than enough to drive away most.

But Eragon and the elves still had a task waiting for them. When they had heard the details entailed by this small ceremony, the elves had decided they wouldn't let their friends go that way. This simply wasn't their way. The bodies of the five elves had been healed by magic. They looked peaceful in death, but painfully white, having sacrificed their lives to protect the dragons.

They were further North, in one of the forests bordering the castle. Everything had been prepared in the early hours of the day. The bodies had been brought from where they had been kept since the end of the battle. Blödhgarm had also found five Weirwood leaves. He delicately placed them on the chest while the others silently observed. Their skin was white like the snow.

Drogon, Viserion, Saphira, and Daenerys were there too. The young woman seemed lost, not completely understanding the events taking place but painfully aware that Rhaegal's burial would come immediately after.

The silence of the forest was broken by the songs of the elves, crying about the loss of their friends. Nature had fallen silent. They could feel the change from the previous burial, and so was the power of the Ancient Language. They sang about their prowess, stories of life, songs about ice and fire.

Nature was silent, weeping about the losses of life along with the dozen elves present here. The birds had fallen silent and the branches of the surrounding trees appeared to be bowing. But nature was life, a process that would always prevail and the small leaves started to twitch as the songs from the elves kept going. Eragon wasn't sure, but he swore some of the trees around them were also sharing some form of energy. Daenerys eyes widened as he witnessed the event taking place in front of her, the last tribute offered to the departed elves.

And just like with Wyrden, trees started to grow, tall and imposing, for life didn't stop, especially now that the Night King had fallen.

They kept singing, never faltering, witnessing the power of their words, their tribute slowly taking shape.

Now, five Weirwoods stood where the bodies of the elves had been laid moments ago. The bark was strong and thick, and the leaves were of a deep rich red colour. Eragon could see many of his friends with a few tears in their eyes. His eyes weren't dry either. He hadn't known them for long, but he was proud to call them friends and saddened by their loss.

Viserion carefully went forward, taking one step at a time in the direction of the trees and extra precautions to not scratch them. Seeing him moving freely like this only served to highlight the changes operated in the past few weeks. With a pang, Eragon noticed that some of the elves who had taken care of the dragon and healed him were among the losses. Viserion was paying his last tribute to them.

But his surprise didn't stop, as the leaves of the trees started to shimmer under Viserion's magic. It was uncontrolled, powerful, not directed. This was simply a dragon offering his last goodbyes to those who had offered their time and energy to make him free again. For a dragon bound to the ground was a dragon deprived of his freedom and of his identity.

While Viserion was carefully stepping back, Daenerys gasped, her eyes wide and fixed on the leaves of the new trees.

The dragon's magic has gently touched the Weirwoods and the freshly blossomed red leaves now bore iridescent silver lines. Daenerys's eyes were wide open and the elves had a look of respect in their eyes. Their friends wouldn't be forgotten.

They remained silent for a few moments, no one daring to take the lead knowing where it would lead. They remained still, watching the breeze caress the trees, lost in their own thoughts. Even the Eldunaris were silent.

Eragon knew he wasn't done with burials today. Rhaegal's body had been moved from the castle to a small clearing, close to where the five elven trees stood, silent witnesses to this last farewell. The request had surprised Eragon but he had complied nevertheless. Moving the body of the dragon had been a taxing effort but one he hadn't even thought to avoid.

Daenerys had given her approval quickly enough, having probably felt something from Drogon and Rhaegal to comfort her in this choice. She had seemed lost, mindlessly carrying her tasks assisted by Tyrion whenever he could. The Lannister had also taken the loss hard, having spent his whole life worshipping dragons before finally meeting four of them.

After a few minutes of silence, Eragon took a few steps back, getting back under Saphira's right wing. Almost automatically, Daenerys followed suit under Viserion's. The dragons took it as a confirmation to move forward and they slowly turned to walk to the small clearing where they knew Rhaegal had been brought. He heard the elves following, a few steps behind them.

Strangely, Eragon was curious about the course of the ceremony. This wasn't something he had learnt with Glaedr and Oromis; he had unfortunately been unable to attend Glaedr's.

"There wasn't any dragon left to bury properly" was the bitter answer from Glaedr's Eldunari.

Rhaegal's body laid like Eragon had left him the night before. Snow had fallen, which had the benefit to hid the wounds sustained in the battle. Daenerys hands gripped forcefully Eragon's arm. He could feel her distress and pain at the sight of one of her dragons laying there, unmoving. The whole situation felt surreal. Dragons were symbols of life and what they were witnessing felt out of place. There was nothing they could do anymore but pay their last respects.

This time, the dragons would lead the ceremony. He knew Saphira had discussed it with Daenerys's dragons but as always when it came to dragons' matter, Eragon had understood very little of it.

Everyone was now around Rhaegal, with the dragons being the closest.

Eragon and Daenerys didn't know how or when it would start. He guessed the whole affair would be quite different from humans, elves or even dwarves' burials. He couldn't be truer.

In synchrony, the three dragons started to spew fire on the green dragon. It was an unbelievable sight, something Eragon had never thought possible. Red, blue and white flames crashed on Rhaegal's emerald scales, embracing them and covering his whole body in a fire blanket. The flames mixed, danced and sang, creating a unique swirl of lights and sounds, never getting close to the trees which loomed over them.

Eragon was mesmerised by what he saw and heard. He had never witnessed anything remotely close to this. The vision in front of him felt surreal, hypnotic intertwined with a deep sense of sadness and respect. Nevertheless, the heat was getting unbearable and he found himself using a spell to remain cool, like most of the elves around him.

But surprisingly, Daenerys didn't seem bothered. Her eyes were firmly locked on the fire. This was when Eragon noticed the magic being fuelled into the fire. Rhaegal's flesh wasn't burning. Something he hadn't accounted for was happening, and Daenerys was involved in this.

The flames were growing and he could feel sweat trickling down his face and his neck. But Daenerys was still looking at the flames, her eyes mirroring this dangerous and yet enthralling pyrotechnic choreograph. The loss had been replaced in her eyes by something deeper.

The flames were moving, shapes that could be glimpsed but never named, colours that had never been seen and would never be seen again. They were dancing on Rhaegal's scales, making him seemingly alive for his last flight.

The flames were still morphing and Daenerys was still looking straight ahead, not bothered the slightest by the heat. Eragon felt the grip of her hand around his arm loosening. She was taking a few steps in the direction of the fire.

"Don't!" said Glaedr before he could even try to stop her.

The elder knew something he didn't, but the sight of Daenerys walking confidently in the direction of this bonfire was pushing his instincts to act.

The flames were reacting to her presence somehow. They grew in height, intensity and in colours, dancing around her small silhouette. But she kept walking, unfazed by the blazing hell surrounding her. The three dragons never faltered in their process, which somehow only made it more breath-taking. It was a vision of the sublime that was unfolding in front of him.

Daenerys was now close, the flames almost covering her and Rhaegal. But nothing in her behaviour could betray the situation she was in. He couldn't spot any hesitation in her steps nor any screams of pain. His own mind couldn't process it. He had seen her holding Brisingr barehand before but that was an entirely another level of danger. And yet, she kept walking, becoming part of the process initiated by the three dragons,

He felt it before he saw it. A flicker of energy unlike any other Eragon had felt, but also so familiar to what Viserion had done not an hour ago. From the little he could see, Daenerys, in a motherly gesture, had touched Rhaegal's scales one last time.

The flames roared and the shapes turned, swirled and for a split second, Eragon swore he glimpsed Rhaegal in those flames. But he blinked and the shape was gone, replaced by other shapes, colours still swirling, dancing and singing, expressing an unspeakable loss. The columns rose before finally diving into Daenerys' right hand. And Daenerys was engulfed in a stream of fire.

Chapter Text

Hours later, Eragon was still pondering what had happened. Even the boisterous crowd surrounding him could not stop him from overthinking the latest events.

"What's troubling you little one?" asked Saphira "Shouldn't you enjoy the feast? The dead have been buried and the living don't have to crawl in fear. There's enough reason to celebrate the end of the wrongness created by the Alfake".

"It's not as simple Saphira"

"Of course, it's not. But will you be able to change anything by thinking too much over it?" retaliated the blue dragon.

"Of course not! But why did it happen? It shouldn't have been possible,"

"You're thinking too much on this Eragon. You're still thinking about whether events are possible or not. Dragons don't follow rules, we make them" she answered calmly. Her tone was even, without any hint of smugness in it because she knew what she was talking about and knew she was right.

"I'm trying to understand what you've done. It's incredible but goes against all we've studied. Is that wrong of me?" grumbled Eragon

Surprisingly, it was Glaedr who answered, with some mirth in his voice

"You remind me of Oromis studying your own case. Many of your actions couldn't be explained and it frustrated him to no end during long hours," replied with a hint of amusement the golden dragon, lost in his memories.

"Really, I never saw it" replied Eragon, surprised by his mentor's confession.

"Of course not. No matter what, Oromis was an elf and a rider and one of the Elder. It took a lot to get past his expression. And he learnt most of it while you weren't present in Du Weldenvaden and by the time you would reach us, most of his interrogation would be hidden behind a perfectly crafted curious mask."

"What kind of events made him so surprised then?" enquired Eragon, his curiosity pressed.

"I can tell you he was surprised the egg hatched for the one person who found it after Arya send it. Or even that you were to one to receive it. Or that you and Murthag were the sons of his last students, that both had the same mother or that it was your father that killed Murtagh's. Even the name of Saphira surprised him. Your last transformation at du Agaeti Sangrem was probably the last major surprise. Magic and dragons don't always mix well with elven logic," concluded the dragon with a note of finality.

And Eragon started to understand the scale of the troubles and questioning that he had given to his old master in the middle of the war against Galbatorix.

Turning his head, he saw that Daenerys was just as thoughtful, her hands covered by gloves, hiding the last gift of the dragons.

When she had touched Rhaegal, she had somehow established a connection with her dragons. She had been blessed by the dragons, both alive and gone. And she now bore her own Gedwey Ignesia on her right hand.

When the flames had died minutes later, he wasn't sure on what he would see. Of course, he had known Daenerys wouldn't be dead since he had been able to keep track of her mind during the whole process. But nothing could have prepared him for the outcome.

She had been standing in the middle of the ashes, her gaze lost in the sky. Yet Eragon had immediately noticed the light glow on her right hand. A glow he was all too familiar with. After all, every time Eragon cast a spell without gloves on, he could see it. Saphira's first gift to him and also present on the hand of Arya and Murthag. However, while he was intimately familiar with the glow, he wasn't with the stencil on her hand. Instead of the Gedwey he bore, like all the previous Riders, Daenerys had a different symbol. A symbol he had seen a lot these past months on shields, boats or events or castles: the Targaryen sigil, with three roaring dragons.

He had found her in the middle of the ashes, with streaks of dried tears on her face but no one could miss the feeling of acceptance and peace. Rhaegal was gone, burnt into nothingness by the three dragons, gone in a last flight but forever present on her hand and mind.

So far, only Eragon and the elves had seen it. One of them had immediately offered gloves along with a cloak to hide the glow until Daenerys managed to find something more fitting.

And once more, he understood the true scale of the headaches he must have given to Brom and Oromis. This was completely unexpected. The presence of dragons here had been a surprise. Drogon and Viserion becoming part of Saphira's pack had complicated even more their travel here but somehow, they had adapted and managed to overcome each of these hurdles while preparing for the future.

But the Gedwey Ignesia on Daenerys's hand was crashing all the plans he had tried to build with the elves and the Eldunaris for the Cast. Because, whether he liked it or not, Daenerys had somehow become a Rider and there was no way he would let her go without some training. Too much was at stake here. He had immediately noticed the bond between her and her two remaining dragons strengthening. This was entirely different.

They had once more entered a grey area, something unexplored before. A rider bonding with two dragons years after their hatching. A Rider who didn't fear fire, and a rider born in a family with the most impressive legacy with dragons. He felt a new headache coming as he pondered this information.

Nevertheless, in between all these daunting tasks waiting for him, there were still some mundane activities to complete, just like now. Indeed, they had been expected to attend the feast occurring in the Great Hall, especially since Eragon was at the centre of all the attention and the discussions. He was the one who had given the final blow and brought an end to the Great War, or du fyrn svell as the Eldunaris called it. Already, people were calling him King Killer in Alagaësia and King Slayer in Westeros.

"And Queen lover in Ellesméra" teased Saphira.

Eragon laughed softly. He still missed deeply Arya but he had learnt to accept the distance separating them. He had called her thrice while on Westeros to talk about the dragons, the war against the Army of the Dead or to have some news on the reconstruction of Alagaësia. After learning about the Army of the Dead, she had wanted to come, perhaps with Murthag but Eragon had dissuaded her. She had responsibilities to fulfil and, most importantly, he wasn't sure she would be on time to fight the Army.

Reluctantly, and after talking to Rhunön -the longest discussion she had ever had with the smith according to her - she had understood Eragon's reasons. She wasn't happy, far from it, but there was understanding. He was also happy to notice that each discussion was less awkward than the previous one.

But back in the Great Hall, he allowed himself to relax a bit. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any surprises for at least a few days. In the meantime, he would enjoy the feast. Saphira was grumbling since they hadn't been able to find a decent amount of wine for her and the prey she had caught hadn't been tasty. "Full of fiber" had been her comment.

She had then decided to take a nap, having found no real reason to stay awake while the Westerosi partook in their feast.

The night was spent in a blur of activities. He remembered the loud discussions around him, the toast initiated by Tormund which ended up with Eragon giving a small speech, the different exchanges with different lords and the occasional glances he would send to Daenerys. She too was caught in many polite discussions but he often saw her left hand absently rubbing the place where he knew her Gedwey was.

Tyrion had been with her at the start but the prospect of a long night full of drinks had driven him away and he had seen him close to Tormund in the late hours of the night, surrounded by empty buckets of ale.

At some point, both he and Daenerys had gone outside to get some fresh air. A few people were also out but they gave him enough place to avoid being overheard. The cold air outside felt good against their skin after having spent long hours in the overcrowded room.

They were silent for a few moments, enjoying the quietness of the night. It was such a contrast from the situation they were in just before.

"How do you feel?" enquired Eragon, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between the two.

Daenerys remained silent for a moment, probably trying to put into words what she was feeling;

"So different. Their presence … It's something else" answered Daenerys. She had a pensive look on her face. She was looking in the direction where Eragon knew the dragons had decided to sleep and he knew that she may not be consciously aware of her actions yet.

They talked softly, enjoying the night knowing there wasn't a dangerous enemy lurking behind the thick walls of Winterfell. He found himself smiling, sharing some innocent anecdotes about the first days of his own bond with Saphira. But soon, they had to get back inside the loud hall. Daenerys went in first and took the direction of the lord's table. Eragon gave her a few minutes before following her steps.

He appreciated these few moments on his own. He looked up to watch the sky. The stars were different here than in his home. He didn't recognise them but he found some peace watching them. It brought him back to his adventure in Vroengard, where Saphira went higher than she had ever been. The view at this altitude had been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It dawned on him how little they had explored the world surrounding them. They had travelled for a few months and they had already found a whole country that everyone had forgotten about except for a few elders. Who knew what else was behind the sea or above the clouds?

"Once the Cast is set, we will explore this world little one" called Saphira, her voice an ocean of assurance.

"We will" promised Eragon softly.

And he went back to the room, leaving the cold night to enter the warmth of the loud great hall.

Walking silently on the snow that had fallen the past hours, Eragon took a time to ponder his next move. He was in a rather delicate position.

Bran's death and last gift, if you could call it a gift, had left Eragon with some dangerous knowledge. During the past days, he had taken the time to have a look at them, with the help of Saphira and the Eldunaris.

He had learnt a lot about Westeros' past, more than he could have learnt with the Maesters, the scrolls and books found in the libraries of the several castles he had visited and would visit. But some knowledge had been more unsettling, a knowledge that held a lot of political power. And finally, in between this mix of memories, he had learnt about Jon's heritage. He had finally understood the truth behind Bran's aunt's death and the origin of the Rebellion which shaped the last decades of Westeros.

This had led Eragon to a precarious situation, with information that could change the course of Westeros, just like the knowledge of his parentage had been at some point for Alagaësia. And he knew he couldn't completely foresee the consequences of these revelations since he had had only an inkling of the politics in place and the alliance which were in place.

And just like with each important decision, he had heard Saphira's advice and they had talked about it in depth. And for once, their decision had been easy to take, logical even but not easy.

It was their decision that brought him where he currently stood, close to Winterfell's Weirwood, where he had slain the Night King a few days ago. Most importantly, he knew this was where Jon would be. The atmosphere was drastically different from what he had experienced before. The forest was more welcoming. The chains which had held it for so long were gone, forever. But the snow was still here, gently cracking under his feet.

Closing the last gap, he made his presence known by walking more forcefully on the snow than what was necessary for him. Alerted by the noise, Jon quickly turned around, his hand already on the pommel of his sword, only to relax when he noticed that it was Eragon who had broken the peace surrounding the forest.

Saphira wasn't there, having decided to remain with Drogon and Viserion who were still mourning the loss of their brother. Dragons weren't idle creatures, Eragon had long learnt it. His partner of mind and soul was currently flying in the cold northern skies with Daenerys' It was a way for them to dim for a few hours the loss of Rhaegal. They were also learning along the way the best way to fly through such winds. This time around, Daenerys had decided to follow her two dragons.

In the forest, Eragon silently closed the gap and went to sit next to Jon on the rocks close to the Weirwood. This was also the place where Bran had died and he could see a flicker of pain in Jon's eyes.

But it was the Northerner who broke the silence first.

"What brings you here Eragon? Or should I say King Slayer now?" he asked with the corners of his lips turning slightly upwards.

Eragon groaned about this new nickname but didn't dispute his comment.

"How are you, Jon?" enquired Eragon

"Good, I guess? I mean no. It's all fuzzy. We've slain the Army of the dead, we faced this enemy, a foe thought mythical only a few months ago, and I think we owe a big part of this victory to you. But I'm angry and saddened by all the losses our family had to go through. Lord Stark, Lady Stark, Robb, Rickon and now Bran. Many of my friends at the Wall, killed too. And what am I supposed to do now? The Wall is destroyed and even then, its purpose is void now. Even if the Wildlings are still resented in Westeros, they should be allowed to roam free."

Eragon stood silent, only too familiar with what Jon was describing. It was the bittersweet taste of victory.

"You will find a path, a choice will be presented, I do not doubt it. It might be here in Winterfell, South at King's Landing or North, at the Wall or even above. But I have little doubt you won't find a purpose. And in the meantime, take some time for yourself. From what you've told me, you've had little rest in the past years" answered Eragon.

Jon was silent for a moment, lost in his thoughts.

"As of today, you are right. But tomorrow is just as dark. "

"Each step at a time and the future might be just a tad brighter"

"Probably. But you haven't come here to offer sound advice about the war. Nor are you here to coax me into a choice. So why are you here then?" asked Jon.

Eragon should have guessed Jon would want to go straight to the point. His tone wasn't accusatory. It was even. His grey eyes didn't bear any anger, but they were seeking truth.

"You are right." He paused, thinking about the best words to use. "During the battle, something happened with the Night King and Bran. Something I can't yet explain, and I'm still processing. Several confusing pieces of information were given. Everything is a bit unclear. It felt like Bran was trying to share. But there was a clear message in there, something related to you and most precisely about you your parentage," started Eragon. He didn't want to explain he had learnt a lot of the history of Westeros with the death of Jon's brother, or rather Jon's cousin, along with snapshots of most of Westeros' past and even sometimes future.

Jon didn't talk, only looked straight at Eragon. The latter didn't falter and started explaining what he had understood, going from Lyanna's marriage and pregnancy, Eddard's Stark choice to Jon's upbringing.

As he talked, he could feel Jon closing up, his eyes fixing a single point behind Eragon and not moving from it.

After a few moments, Eragon was done describing the situation and what he had understood to Jon. A heavy silence fell between the two men. For a short moment, nothing broke the quietness of the forest. Above, a free bird chirped. Finally, it was Jon who talked first.

"Thank you" whispered Jon, his voice completely neutral. Eragon was impressed by the control he kept. Having gone through a similar predicament not so long ago, he knew from experience how difficult and lost Jon probably felt. And yet, he knew there was something he had to add.

"You should tell Daenerys, "Added Eragon

Surprisingly, those words were the ones which had gotten him the most reaction from Jon.

"Have you told her?" he asked with some steel in his voice.

"This is not my decision to make. But I would do it if I were you," answered truthfully Eragon without batting a sweat.

"And why is that?" he called back with the same steel. He was getting defensive and Eragon understood he had probably rushed his proposition and hadn't given enough time to Jon.

"Because this is the crux of the matter. Daenerys is your family, and we both know she feels alone and believes to be the last one of a hated family. Both of you had a lonely childhood for different reasons. You were the supposed bastard of Ned Stark, a man known for his integrity while she was the daughter of the Mad King, one of the most hated men in the country, and man she never met. «he explained before continuing "Nevertheless, this is your decision to make, yours to accept and share if you want to. It didn't feel right for me to know this and to keep it from you. There might be political consequences but honestly, I don't care about it, I just didn't like the idea to let someone live with a lie surrounding his origins."

He noticed understanding, and comprehension slowly dawning on his face, but Jon decided to remain silent.

Having said his piece, Eragon silently left and let his mind wander to a world where dragons would be able to live freely and where politics would be dealt with by them. For a short moment, he imagined a world governed by Saphira and couldn't escape the laugh that left his lips.

"Bring me more of that wine Tyrion is carrying around, and I'll rule over all the matter of this cold place," answered Saphira lazily. He almost felt her yawning as if it was his own.

"And you wouldn't need me? "teased Eragon

"I guess I'd need you from time to time, to help me with my scales or wool stuck between my teeth. No one else would do it" answered Saphira, with mirth in her voice

This time, Eragon showed no restraint and allowed himself to laugh at his own expense.

Chapter Text

Time had flown by. Weeks went and the situation started to slowly evolve for the better. The most enjoyable surprise had come from the weather. The long-dreaded winter was bound to be much shorter than what they had predicted and less harsh. After only a few weeks, they could feel the temperatures already getting higher.

It was still a very cold winter, one that could have been qualified by plenty of Carvahal as the coldest they had ever lived through, but for the people here, it was a welcome change after the past months.

They were obviously surprised by this nice turn of events but not many were able to explain it.

This was a direct consequence of the death of the Night King, but one Eragon hadn't expected. Nature had been freed, and the seasons were taking their rightful place again. Winter was here, but Eragon could feel the changes, slowly taking place. The death of the Night King had liberated Nature from its chains, and the course of the seasons seemed liberated. Each day, it seemed more life sprung under his feet and he could taste its raw joy. He could almost feel gratitude wherever he went. Nature was overjoyed. Brom and Arya's ominous words, pronounced all these years ago, made more sense.

The biggest shock came when he visited the forest the past week on a night stroll. For a moment, he felt in a completely different country. He wasn't witnessing a winter landscape. This was the most beautiful floral composition he had ever seen, in a very peaceful and serene painting.

Most of the forest was covered in patches of flowers of all the colours, sizes and shapes possible. Some of these were from seeds he had only seen in Alagaësia. Some he had only seen on the small island of Dragonstone. Others he had never seen and might never again. He had walked around, stopping randomly to simply have some quiet time.

At some point, he sat on a stone, his hands gently touching one of the flowers. The tip of his fingers was stroking the blue and red petals of this unique flower. He had never seen anything like it. There was something familiar and mesmerising about the disposition. And it dawned on him that he was watching two spines of dragons intertwined. Most specifically, Saphira's and Thorn's spines shapes. On a whim and inspired by what he was witnessing, he whispered the Word, giving a name to the flower : skulblaka fëon , the dragon flower. Saphira snorted loudly but didn't comment further.

He remained there for a few more hours, in this place where the snow highlighted the beauty and didn't hide it under a thick blanket and where silence sang the beauty of Nature. For the first time since his departure from Alagaësia, he felt a remote feeling of peacefulness. And yet, after a few hours of silence, he stood for where he was sitting to go back to the loud castle.

The next morning, the flowers were gone, hidden by a new fresh blanket of snow.

But Daenerys was still looking at King's Landing with a hungry look and Eragon was torn in the course of his actions. He wanted nothing more than to settle and find an isolated place to raise dragons but he also couldn't let her on her own, not with two dragons belonging to Saphira's pack and a Gedwey Ignasia glowing on her hand. But he knew that protecting Daenerys' dragons would guarantee her a relatively easy success against Cersei Lannister. He couldn't imagine them losing, having witnessed first-hand their defences and armies, even those supposed to remain secret. He knew the plots devised by Cersei Lannister and her council, and the lack of magical wards.

He felt in between roles, stretched to either teach guide, build or fight. But he knew that teaching would mean war, once more, a war he had little interest in. With Bran's memory, he was able to grasp how silly and wrong it was now. With an elfish perception, it seemed even more wrong and useless, another waste of human lives.

He had seen Cersei's twisted mind and her cruelty. But was this the role of a rider? Eragon was sick of fighting, and they were looking for another war while the wounds from the previous wars hadn't been fully healed. But he knew this would always be the case. They had fought in Teirm mere weeks after Galbatorix's death. These days had been bitter to experience.

But like always, the answer became obvious for Eragon.

However, the rest of his companions wouldn't follow him on this part of the journey. Eragon suspected that the death of Rhaegal and five of their friends had affected them more deeply than they let appear. He had noticed their mood being more reserved. Eragon had already seen this in the past, after Islanzadí's death in Urû'baen.

So when given the choice to fight for human matters or to settle with nature to build the foundations of the Cast, their choice had been easy. They knew the risks awaiting Eragon South and thus had no reserve to let him go alone. The defeat of the Night King had brought many changes in Westeros, with most of them being completely unexpected, especially in the North and it was definitely more appealing than warfare.

Years-long winters would probably disappear and become nothing but an old memory. They had all felt the rebirth of Nature. And this would offer a lot of possibilities North of the Wall. Because what had once been a large and cold plain of desolation had suddenly become a mysterious region, barely populated, isolated from the rest of Westeros.

At this point, he had no more information. He didn't know if anything would come out of this exploration. But Eragon, the elves and the Eldunaris were taking their chances and wanted to know more about this place.

What was left of the wildings could never hope to fill the entire place in the coming years or even decades. On the contrary, they were adamant to welcome them North of the Wall. They respected strength, and the elves, along with Eragon and Saphira had more than earned their respect with their prowess in the battle. Tormund's status as the unofficial leader of the Wildings would also help them.

After a few days of discussions, the elves had agreed to follow the wildlings North of the Wall, to study the environment and the state of this wide place after the passage of the Army of the dead. They already knew there wouldn't be a lot of wildlife but the space was just as big as two kingdoms with barely a tenth of the population of the least populated one. Dragons would be able to roam freely without a doubt. They had to find out more about the mountains present on the few maps they had, the forests or the state of nature after its millennial-long corruption but the potential appeared infinite.

In the meantime, Eragon would take the direction of the South, to protect Daenerys and her dragons, both from the enemies but also from herself he reflected.

Not many had heard of this plan. Eragon had talked to Jon and Tormund about it, and neither had had any issues with it. The whole situation was still extremely blurry and they still had a lot to find out, but for now, they had the verbal agreement from the two leaders. The North was completely depleted and the chances to have issues with humans would be close to non-existent for a long time.

The next months were spent mixed with the rest of Daenerys's armies between soldiers, on sea or earth, going South in the direction of King's Landing. The weather wasn't as cold as it used to be but it was far from being warm. The only warmth Eragon could find was by Saphira's side. But unfortunately, she wasn't always here, preferring to spend her time in the air, often joined by Drogon and Viserion who were still taking it slowly after their wounds sustained at the Wall and Winterfell. The absence of the elves also meant that Eragon had to monitor the several injuries sustained by the dragons and make sure they were all healing properly.

Never did he have to monitor such serious wounds. Saphira had been fortunate to escape the war rather unscathed, both in Alagaësia and in Westeros.

The dragons were also grieving Rhaegal's disappearance and Eragon saw more than once Daenerys mindlessly rubbing her right glove, which hid her Gedwey located just under with a sad look on her face. For once, Eragon couldn't pretend to understand what she was going through. The loss of a dragon was heartbreaking, and the grief Daenerys was going through would take time to heal and they all knew it would never fully disappear. But he was happy to notice that nevertheless, her link was getting stronger with each passing day and she seemed to embrace it fully, bonding without reserve with her two dragons. So far, she hadn't done any magic but they were less restricted with the Ancient Language. The oath she had taken offered some flexibility to Eragon.

The peaceful mood remained until the Eldunaris found a large gathering of ssssss located a few leagues away, close to the shores. It didn't take long to figure out the reason for their presence. The Eldunaris had just found the Lannister-Greyjoy fleet, led by Euron Greyjoy. Their presence here could only mean one thing. They were here to stop their progress. Eragon had seen the first steps of this plan at the Dragonpit in Euron's mind. He was now on the verge of witnessing the realization of said plan.

They all remembered the aura spread by the man, malevolent, sinister. Feeling such darkness was an omen of danger. His presence here with a full armada didn't bode well for Daenerys and her army. Along with Cersei Lannister, Euron had seen the dragons and Euron Greyjoy was anything but a fool. If he thought his ships could be a threat, it meant he strongly believed to have some serious options to stop them, including their dragons.

It was smart of Cersei to try to stop them on sea. Daenerys's army was mostly composed of people who, before leaving Essos, had never set foot on a boat let alone fought on it whereas Euron's army of sailors was seasoned and experienced to fight in such conditions.

Fortunately for them, there was one aspect they had overlooked: Eragon and Saphira. No one in Westeros truly knew the extent of their powers and they were quite happy to keep it like like this.

Truthfully, it was over before it had even started. Eragon had quickly sprung into action and jumped on Saphira's back. and within a few seconds, managed to have a good overview of the fleet. Immediately after, all the Eldunaris started their strike. Without losing a second, they all managed to immobilise the sailors and Euron. The whole sequence had barely taken ten seconds. With a few wingbeats, Saphira brought Eragon to the decks, where he found all the men frozen, controlled by the mental abilities of the Eldunaris. He was cautious, taking in the whole situation before taking a step forward. After the Night King, he didn't exclude the possibility to face an enemy they couldn't detect with their mind or with weapons able to pierce through anything.

However, during his observations, nothing came off as worrying.

The decks were extremely well armed, and the several ballistas he saw there could only mean one thing: Cersei was ready to kill the dragons, and she had the means to do it if the wards around the dragons were to disappear. So far, he knew they would be strong enough to resist almost anything thrown on them, but he would reinforce them, just in case.

While he went looking for Euron, he let Saphira destroy these weapons. They would be beyond repair in a few moments but he knew she would keep the boat in relatively decent shape.

They didn't plan to kill all these men. This wasn't Eragon's purpose nor his place and it wouldn't serve them. But he would capture Euron, who could be used as leverage against Cersei. And from what he had seen, it would be an important backlash to the Lannister coalition.

Euron would have to be judged. But this wouldn't be Eragon's task. He knew this man deserved death without any doubt, but just like Sloan, he couldn't be the one to deliver the sentence. He just knew this would make things once again complicated. Yara Greyjoy was still with them, on Daenerys' ship and would probably be the one to deliver her judgement. Not that Eragon doubted Euron's fate. He had witnessed first-hand the harshness of the Ironborn woman.

« You knew the man with the fake golden hand wasn't completely in the wrong. Your role as a Rider is to find the balance between judging, advising and acting. Fairly easy to understand, but it takes a lifetime to reach it. You were Jaime's Lannister judge because only you could properly judge him. But this isn't the case with the false-sea-man-leader, He is one of those humans who crave power and won't stop at anything to reach it. His guilt is already rightfully proven. » explained Glaedr.

Without losing a second, he went under the deck of one of the boats, where he knew Euron was trapped. Eragon advanced quickly, wanting to leave the place as quickly as possible. He felt uneasy the closer he got to him, a sentiment which only grew by the smell of the surrounding cabins. He decided to open one of them to find the origin of this smell.

He quickly regretted his action, as he uncovered an empty torture room. The room was completely bare except for two thick and rusty metallic rings. The lack of prisoners and furniture didn't fool Eragon. He could smell and almost taste the pain probably more than one prisoner had suffered in this place. Dried blood was spilt all over the walls and ground, along with some other substances he'd rather not see outside of a human body. With some disgust, he recognised human skin stacked in a cornet.

Deciding he had seen enough, he left the cabin, gulping some fresh air as he entered the dark corridor. He hadn't been aware that he had stopped breathing at some point but he took a moment to organise his thoughts after this. He knew torture existed in war, he had seen the results of it first hand, forever etched on Arya, Nasuada or even Murtagh's skin. But this was beyond anything he had ever seen and he suddenly regretted his decision to spare Euron.

Thinking about him made him spring into action. Brisingr was in his right hand, projecting a faint blue light in the dark place. Eragon decided he had enough and definitely wanted to leave this boat as quickly as possible.

He found the man immediately after, in the neighbouring cabin, trapped by one Eldunari. He could feel the fury and the madness coming in waves from the man. He was dangerous, more dangerous than the common soldier. What he had seen and felt only made him warier but also more disgusted towards the man.

Without sparring him a second thought, he bound and silenced him with the Ancient Language, before knocking him out. For good measure, he tied his hands with some rope he found in the cabin. Finally, making sure there wasn't anything left that would require his attention, Eragon left the cabin and the hull of the ship. He was dragging the giant man with his left hand, quickly making his way towards Saphira who had finished her delicate attention as she aptly named it.

He wasn't fooled but her words brought a smile to his lips. Less than a quarter of an hour after they had arrived, Saphira and Eragon were leaving, leaving behind a leaderless armada along with the vast majority of the weapons fuming, beyond repair.

When he came back to Daenerys' ship, a small contingent was waiting for him. Daenerys and Tyrion were present, having probably felt the turmoil he had created. He had warned no one beforehand. He hadn't wanted to and knew it would have overcomplicated things. Now that he was back, he could see notice the look of surprise on their face, seeing him back only a few minutes later, without any apparent wound and with a prisoner attached to Saphira's back.

Their eyes widened, even more, when they identified his prisoner. Drogon and Viserion stirred but didn't move more, following Saphira's lead and noticing the lack of danger.

« Where did you find him? » asked Daenerys without missing a second.

« His fleet was posted a few miles away. We went there with Saphira » answered Eragon easily.

« And you thought it was a good idea to go there on your own, without any backup, to fight a whole fleet? » she kept going, her tone rising.

« Yes » answered Eragon curtly. « It was the easiest and quickest solution ».

Her body seemed to deflate, having probably not expected such a short and contradictory answer.

However, her eyes betrayed her fury. And Eragon could understand her. For a long time, she had been the one in charge, to one to initiate changes and warfare actions. With Eragon's arrival, she had lost her hegemony. She was suddenly a student, an advisor whose councel would be listened to but sometimes rejected. Most importantly, she had met someone who was stronger than her.

But he knew he couldn't have done better. The close proximity with the dragons and the danger brought by the artillery destroyed by Saphira proved his point. Dealing with a couple of hundred humans was an easy task for him and the Eldunaris. The wards surrounding him and Saphira were almost unbreakable. Dozens of ballasts would barely make a dent in them. But he didn't know how strong the current ones around Drogon, Viserion and Daenerys were.

« Wouldn't it have been better to have gone with more dragons and more elves, or Unsullied? You don't have to go alone, especially since you had powerful weapons at your disposition, » asked Tyrion, in a soothing voice

« I could. But it wouldn't have helped. Timing was the essence here. When Drogon fought the Lannister army, there was a single ballista which almost maimed Drogon. On Euron's ships, we found a few dozens of them, improved. Each would have been able to either kill your dragons or create important damage to your ships. »

« And Saphira was safer than my dragons? » asked Daenerys.

« Yes » came his short answer, which held no doubt.

He knew he could easily make a point, by letting someone try to stab him or Saphira. His wards would easily protect them from the hit, but he wasn't going to. Tyrion and the others might have an idea, but Eragon also knew their imagination would always come beneath the truth of how strong his protections were. At this point, the Red Keep could fall on him without hurting him too badly.

Additionally, Saphira would never let him and he wasn't willing to expose this kind of power. Already, they saw him as a hero, with inhuman strength and some unknown and extraordinary magic at his disposal. He wasn't going to admit he was virtually immune to physical hits anytime soon. This aura of wonderment had always been around Riders in Alagaësia and he could see the point with this strategy.

He hadn't shared with Daenerys about the wards placed around her dragons. They had probably saved Drogon and Viserion from many wounds during the battle against the Night King but it seemed Daenerys hadn't noticed it. The wights had left no damage on the dragons. Only the magical spears had been able to pierce his wards, like the Dauthdaerth, and there had been plenty during the battle. There had been more than a hundred White Walkers present during that night.

He already dreaded the moment Daenerys would start using magic. He felt more at ease with her now that she had spoken in the Ancient Language and followed the traditional vows, but long and difficult conversations awaited him, he knew this. There would be a lot of questioning, answers to provide and some to keep. And to think Oromis has taught for centuries gave shivers to Eragon.

"Don't worry, most students wouldn't give him a tenth of the worries you're facing with the dragon girl. Only you perhaps gave Oromis so many worries* shared Glaedr with some mirth. But Eragon noticed the use of the Ancient Language nevertheless.

Unaware of this internal turmoil, Daenerys was eying Euron Greyjoy darkly.

« So, is he going to be one of your prisoners once more? One of my enemies that you'll keep for yourself » enquired Daenerys, steel in her voice.

She looked calmer than when he had brought Jaime Lannister and more tempered. The relations between the two of them were considerably better. The fact he hadn't brought in the man who had killed her father probably helped but he knew he'd have to choose his words carefully nevertheless.

« I'm not a judge Daenerys, I never intended to be one. When I protected Jaime Lannister, it was because I knew you needed to hear the whole story. I don't have such issues with Euron Greyjoy. The whispers you've heard of him convey the truth. But I would prefer to offer him to Yara Greyjoy since I believe she is the Lord of the Ironborn now, » explained Eragon calmly, eying both women as he spoke.

Daenerys looked surprised for a moment before he saw her frown lessening while nodding her apparent approval. He also saw the flicker of surprise on Tyrion's face before quickly being replaced by a straight face though he noted of approval. She turned and asked something in Valyrian to one of the Unsullied guarding her.

Eragon didn't understand a lot of what was being said but he heard the words « Yara Greyjoy ». It didn't take much to figure Daenerys had requested her presence to judge Euron quickly.

She quickly confirmed it to the other people on the deck before they started to wait for the leader of the Iron Islands to get there.

They didn't have to wait long before Yara arrived. She was clad in her usual attire, clothes that had been worn off by all the time spent on the sea. He hadn't spent a lot of time in her company. Her face still wore the marks of her captivity. They were still bags under her eyes, signs of malnutrition and scars of all sizes littering her skin. Eragon silently wondered if she had been held in the same cabin he had seen not an hour ago. Nevertheless, no one could miss the rage that appeared in her eyes when she identified her uncle laying bound between Eragon and Saphira.

The outcome was a ruthless execution following the traditions of the Iron Islands. Euron was bound and burdened with heavy bags of rocks and then dropped to sink in the dark waters of the sea. They watched him silently disappear into the cold waters, where according to the sailors he would be judged by the Drowned God. Eragon could also feel the moment he died, his mind lost and never to be found again. Yara had remained silent, only stating the ominous words of the Greyjoys before pushing Euron overboard.

"What is dead may never die".

Chapter Text

He had needed to understand. He still couldn't wrap his mind around what he had witnessed, smelt, seen or heard of King's Landing. What he had known before their arrival here had been learnt from either Tyrion or Jon and he knew both of them had been biased, at least on a subconscious level. Neither of them had truly witnessed nor lived in the real conditions of King's Landing, the place where most of the people lived. Whenever royalties visited such places, it only created tensions, and nothing reflected completely the truth. Some aspects were improved while others went downhill. He knew from experience that spirits were high whenever such visits occurred. In short, only someone who had lived there could provide some of the answers Eragon sought.

These questions were weighing on his mind since this was the heart of Westeros' political power. He hadn't expected such poverty. These questions couldn't remain unanswered now.

During his first visit here, their stay had been very short, barely six hours long and most of the time had been spent in the Dragon Pit. They had more pressing matters, which fortunately had been dealt with. His mind had been focused on the battle against the Army of the Dead and they couldn't have afforded to lose more time here.

But now, nothing was stopping him. He had wanted to witness the living conditions and the apparent poverty first-hand. Saphira had landed a few leagues away from the city in the middle of the night. From there, he ran in the direction of King's Landing, reaching the borders of the city in a matter of hours. During these few moments, nothing broke the silence but the faint noises of Eragon's feet softly touching the snow. He didn't wander on the road, preferring to remain under the trees. He arrived just at dawn, with the sun emerging behind the Red Keep. In the shadows of the forest, he could watch without being seen. But remaining unseen wouldn't be an issue for Eragon.

With a quick spell, he had managed to sneak inside the city. Invisible, the guards had been none the wiser and climbing the walls had been a mere formality. Saphira hadn't been the most supportive of this idea, knowing Eragon's knack to attract danger. But he was confident in his abilities to deal with whatever troubles could fall on him and the Eldunaris were scrying the whole city to avoid any mishap.

Wearing shabby clothes, he tried his best to blend in. Eragon had stopped his spell in a narrow street, knowing he would be unable to remain invisible. The streets weren't large and given how dense the crowd was and how unpredictably the movements of the people there were, he was bound the be detected rather soon than later.

But none of this mattered to Eragon. He was more horrified by the poverty he could helplessly witness. Even Dras Leona's dirtiest places looked more inviting. The streets were dirty, covered with dirt, piss and stains. With his enhanced senses, he barely resisted for a few seconds before placing a spell to numb his smell. He didn't like to hinder his senses like this, it felt like self-mutilation, but the smell was beyond anything he had experienced before although he had been present during and after the battle of the Burning Plains where thousands had died before starting to root under the blazing sun,

He could see kids running around, fighting for a piece of bread, and beggars seeking something to eat. There wasn't any real shop per se, these looked more like little stalls with little to sell.

The houses were in a very poor state, with a bunch of walls with some openings. But there was no warmth in these, nothing inviting.

And in the middle of this misery, Eragon finally understood the reasons why the people remained there. It wasn't because of a choice or out of love for the city. They simply couldn't leave. They had no funds and no prospects outside of King's Landing. And most importantly, the gates were heavily guarded. The city was manned to fight and the people inside were trapped. The city walls were equipped with several ballistae that looked even more powerful than the ones Saphira had destroyed on Euron's ships. The design was more sophisticated which probably offered more range. These could be powerful assets for the Lannister armies if they were to fight. But Eragon wasn't about to let those become a dangerous threat. The majority of the energy coming from the Eldunaris was invested in wards around the dragons, Eragon and Daenerys. The sheer amount of power coming from them was astonishing, and he knew it would require more than a few arrows to seriously wound the dragons.

Nevertheless, he had to move. He was reminded by Saphira that he had remained in his current position, frozen at the end of the street for a whole minute, shocked by the surrounding environment. While it hadn't attracted the attention of any guards yet, he had to remain cautious. His eyes were everywhere at once, trying to see as much as possible. He could see the way people worked, ate or interacted with each other. It was supposed to be Westeros' greatest city and Eragon couldn't help but think he had just seen the worst. When facing such poverty, he couldn't care less about the monuments built by Daenerys' ancestors and of which Tyrion had spent a long time describing the beauty. It felt so pointless. Moreover, Cersei didn't seem to share her brother's love for these monuments if the rumbles he could see in the distance were any indication.

This city was their only home but also their jail, with their jailors now also stuck in their own golden cage thanks to Daenerys's army surrounding the city and leaving no room for escape.

He took his time, and explored for a few hours the streets of the capital, walking without any real destination in mind. He preferred to remain silent and not talk to the people there. He knew his accent would attract unnecessary attention. However, his behaviour didn't look out of character since the people didn't linger in the streets. They were always on the move, clutching their clothes and conducting their activities as quickly and efficiently as possible. Winter was here and the temperatures were quite low. It wasn't as harsh as what they had experienced North but the people here were ill-equipped. Very few of them had furs to protect them from the cold wind. At best, they had some cloaks but it was far from being enough.

He explored but found little of interest. There was nothing to be found in King's Landing outside of the prevalent poverty. He ate nothing of the day and spoke a little out loud. But during the whole day, he shared his observations with the dragons who showed a modicum of interest. For them, it was just another city populated by humans without any real interest outside of the Dragonpit.

Once the night had fallen, he made his way back to the ships where Daenerys' armies were stationed, which didn't present much of a challenge. However, he took the opportunity to remain longer than what was necessary for the dark salty water, feeling he needed a deep cleanse. He had remained for a few hours in the water, joined at some point by Saphira. It wasn't very warm but a quick spell took care of it and he stood there, pondering what he had witnessed, thinking about the future of King's Landing's citizens.

But Saphira was quick to stop his train of thought. She started to dive faster into the water and closer to Eragon. It was the first time they tried something like that, carelessly playing in the water. While he was able to remain above the water quite easily, Saphira couldn't remain in a floating position very long. Eragon watched her pitiful attempts to resist drowning, moving her legs and wings to find a suitable position. Unsurprisingly, all her attempts failed and ended with her in the air, spilling some salty water while flapping her wings in a very unsynchronized pattern. Even the usually very serious Eldunaris had cracked a few jokes, calling Saphira a beautiful sea-drunk-winged snake. And the conclusion left Eragon panting with laughter. Needless to say, she hadn't been pleased and had left to sulk on one of the boats, refusing to discuss the latest events.

It seemed to Eragon that even Drogon and Viserion were taking the mickey, only remaining silent because of Saphira's alpha position in their pack. The whole night was spent aimlessly, in this joyful and carefree atmosphere.

In the early hours of the day, it was a happy and rested Eragon that entered Daenerys' cabin to exchange about King's Landing. Obviously, Daenerys was there, but so were Jon, Jaime, Yara, Varys and Tyrion. The latter looked like he'd rather be in his bed and was already clutching a glass filled with wine, holding it as if his survival depended on it. Eragon could feel Saphira's envy. Good ale was scarce in Westeros. She had decided during the night that sulking wasn't appropriate and was now acting as if nothing had happened. Suffice to say, no one had dared to bring up the subject yet.

Eragon hadn't shared the real purpose of his leave yesterday and wouldn't probably divulge it if no one brought it up. They probably thought he had spent the last day and night with Saphira, either in the skies or in the water, which surmised a good part of it. But he knew how quickly news could travel, and he hadn't wanted to hear all their questions and interrogations before and after his exploration. The approval of the Eldunaris and Saphira had been more than enough for him.

Nevertheless, they all looked at him with curiosity in their eyes when they saw him, his hair still damp from the time spent in the sea. He hadn't really noticed it, he had absently used a spell to keep him warm, but from the outside, they had probably found him crazy to remain for so long in the water in the middle of the winter.

They exchanged the usual greetings but it was clear there was one subject at the forefront of everyone's mind. Not one to wait, Daenerys initiated the discussions:

"We are now within reach of King's Landing. I aim to enter and take the city without casualties. The men have suffered enough and it is time for us to bring some peace to Westeros" stated Daenerys.

There was some naivety in her words, the remains of a childhood spent in a golden cage and in a position of power. However, there was more truth in her words than she realized.

"While your aim is commendable, there is no way Cersei will give up the throne like this" answered Tyrion tiredly, repeating words which had been rehearsed several times already. "She will remain by any means she deems necessary. She already killed families, breached treaties or blew up a sept. She won't come out after you send her a raven"

"Of course, it won't be so easy. If that was your solution then you'd make a rather poor Hand" chuckled Daenerys; However, after a few seconds, she kept going "If you're all here, it's because I want to hear your opinion and ideas to try to find the best path to advance, to help the city. We all knew we could be done within an hour if I were to ride my dragons and burn it all, but it would be a disaster"

They all remained silent for a few moments, weighing the next course of action. Before long, each was offering a few inputs or suggestions but they were making little progress. When Varys spoke to offer some insight about the city, Eragon was surprised by the level of detail of the information he was sharing. He knew Varys had never left the boats and yet he knew more than Eragon about the current situation inside of the city.

Unfortunately for them, while they got a very clear vision of the city, the decisions taken inside or the state of the defences, it didn't help them to mount a plan.

A long silence followed, broken by one Eragon hadn't expected to hear.

"I can get in and talk to Cersei," said Jaime Lannister with conviction.

Daenerys chuckled humourlessly and Tyrion subtly leaned in, knowing he couldn't intervene in this specific argument.

"This is probably the most daring solution someone has offered today. But forgive me if I don't find myself very keen on this idea, nor with you"

"Nothing in his past and current actions could suggest a wish on his part to undermine your conquest Daenerys. He fought and bled alongside your men, "offered Tyrion

"Forgive me if I have trouble trusting the man who murdered my father, no matter the circumstances. Especially if the point is to exchange with Cersei who is, his sister, his twin, lover and the mother of his children. Am I missing something here? Besides, if my memory serves me well, he still is a prisoner" finished the young woman darkly.

All eyes turned on Eragon, who had remained silent so far.

"He's not my prisoner and hasn't been for a few weeks," he said, eliciting a few reactions of surprise. "It is true that I captured him when you fought the Lannister army and afterwards I brought him North, to face and see the dead. But after the Dragonpit, Jaime has always been free to go, something I've never hidden from him. He went on his own violation North after the discussion with Cersei at the Dragonpit. He went North to fight for the livings. If he wants to leave us now, then so be it," explained Eragon.

Tyrion's eyes went wide, and his head turned to look at Jaime's figure, who had remained still during Eragon's declaration.

"Is that true Jaime?" he asked his brother, his voice hoarse, looking to get the answer everyone was seeking.

He didn't answer immediately, preferring to remain silent for a few moments, his eyes never leaving Eragon's face. Finally, after a few seconds, his eyes settled on Tyrion and with a low whisper, answered him

"Yes, it is".

It didn't ignite as much passion as Eragon had feared, but a few heads turned in his direction. Daenerys' eyes were displaying her emotions. There was some indignation as he had expected but also some curiosity and questioning. And while her eyes spoke a lot, her mouth remained closed., something that didn't go unnoticed.

After a few seconds, she broke the silence. For once, they weren't listening to a voice burning with indignation, passion or anger. She was trying to control herself, to weigh each word, though Eragon could feel the fragility behind it. He knew a single comment could trigger the fire inside of Daenerys and he hoped no one would dare to push it.

"If this were to happen, what makes you think you would succeed? We came here months ago, with a wight -which I'll remind you cost us dearly- asking for help to fight the most dangerous army Westeros has ever seen. She decided to remain in the Red Keep. Worse, she lied to us, promising soldiers who never came. So, my question Jaime Lannister is rather simple. What makes you think you will succeed when a wight didn't?" finished Daenerys slowly, marking each word. She held her head high and looked at Jaime straight in the eyes, fiery purple meeting steel-blue.

He held the challenge, like all these months ago when he had been brought in front of her. However, this time, there was no arrogance in his eyes, no challenge, just a passion and a conviction yearning to be seen.

"I know Cersei better than anyone here. I probably know her better than I know myself. We spent our childhood together and became even closer once our mother died. She's my twin and I think you more than anyone knows what kind of bond exists between two twins, especially without any parental figure" stated Jaime;

And Eragon saw the impact in Daenerys' eyes: some understanding, confusion, pain and sadness. She wasn't convinced yet. But these few words had had more impact on her than all the speeches given by Tyrion or Varys during their journey on the sea.

But he wasn't done yet, and he kept talking, with the same confidence in his voice

"She is probably the most selfish person in all of King's Landing. She will only seek her own interest. That has always been the case and the death of her three children has only increased this paranoia and attitude. I believe I am now the only one who could help her and go through her shields. I have little value now. You saw it first-hand when Cersei believed I was your hostage. You got no armies North. She has even fewer incentives now. And finally, I believe there's nothing really that I could share that could prove to be dangerous for you. The presence of the dragons is well known and so is the prowess of the Unsullied. I'd say you have nothing to hide from Cersei. Let me go, let me talk to her to convince her to leave peacefully. At best, you get a peaceful surrender and at worst, you lose a cripple "

When he concluded, a long silence fell in the room but Eragon knew Jaime had just gotten what he had wanted. When Daenerys spoke again, it was to grant his wish. They spoke little after, only specifying a few minor points of the operation.

The next morning, Jaime Lannister was gone. He hadn't wished to remain longer than what was required of him. He had exchanged in private with his brother before leaving in the dead of the night, where he had the most chances to avoid the guards of King's Landing. He had refused all the offers of help, preferring to row alone in the direction of a small creek. There, he had assured the people in the gathering would be able to reach the Red Keep unnoticed though Eragon didn't know how. But Varys and Tyrion hadn't seemed surprised by this admission, so he figured some hidden passages were running under the city.

Pending his return, they wouldn't remain idle. There was a lot to be done and to prepare. Eragon knew it would only be a matter of time before Daenerys controlled the city, with or without Cersei's approval. If she were to go by force, nothing could stop her but as they all knew, the impact it would have on the population would be disastrous. So they had prepared another solution, more tedious but with hopefully less damage done to the capital.

Three days after Jaime's departure, they hadn't heard from him and the city remained closed to them. Eragon could still feel his presence which would probably be his only assurance They were forced to recognize they would have to force their entry one way or another.

They stood at a safe distance from the strong walls of King's Landing and its diverse defences.

Their own siege machines were on the move, ready to be used.

They would have to strike first, and not give a single opportunity to the enemies. Daenerys' plan was sound, and they hoped this battle wouldn't create many casualties. Hopefully none.

Around each catapult, Unsullied were busy finishing the setup and filling the buckets. They knew they wouldn't get any second chance. The movements were also triggering the Lannister soldiers but none of their projectiles reached them. So far, everything went according to the plan. But they had only done the easiest part.

Grey Worm came to meet them

"The weapons are ready to be used," he said slowly, carefully picking each word to be understood by all the people present.

Daenerys watched him and nodded silently. Having delivered his message, he bowed, took a few steps back and went back to the army waiting for the start of the battle. Everyone knew their task.

After a few tense seconds, Daenerys rose her right arm. Silence quickly fell on the army and it seemed all the eyes turned on her hand, waiting for it to fall. Even the dragons were silent, watching the scene unfolding in front of them.

The plan she had devised was something else, worthy of Roran.

Her hand remained high, the sole focus on every being. Even the Lannister soldiers were aware of the danger building up. Their nerves were cracking in a painfully obvious way. A few tried to fire an arrow at Daenerys or the dragons but their projectiles fell at least a hundred feet away from their targets. A ballista had also been fired but had completely missed its target.

Her eyes hard and set on the Red Keep, she dropped her arm.

Chapter Text

Her hand remained high, the sole focus on every being. Even the Lannister soldiers were aware of the danger building up. Their nerves were cracking in a painfully obvious way. A few tried to fire an arrow at Daenerys or the dragons but their projectiles fell at least a hundred feet away from their targets. A ballista had also been fired but had completely missed its target.

Her eyes hard and set on the Red Keep, she dropped her arm.

Her arm dropped, and again, Eragon was reminded of how unique this army was. Unlike with most armies, he had been part of, no orders were shouted, The Unsullied once again proved how different they were from all the other armies. As Daenerys slowly lowered her arm, a tense silence enveloped the battlefield. Then, in an instant, the Unsullied sprang into action with remarkable precision, their catapults launching the first volley with breathtaking speed

The projectiles went high in the sky and it seemed all the eyes were locked on the little dots leaving the baskets. They rose swiftly and after a few seconds, started going down before falling behind the walls of King's Landing. Already, the soldiers were back at work, loading the now empty baskets, not even stopping the watch the conclusion of the first volley and to see the perfect curve taken by their projectiles. Their aim was true and within seconds, they started to hear screams of fear erupting from the other side of the wall. The cries grew at an astonishing rate but they quickly morphed the fear and horror into something akin to joy

Turning his head, Eragon saw the start of a smile appear on Daenerys' face.

Eragon leaned in closer to Daenerys and whispered, 'Your plan is working, they're starting to see our intentions.'"

Her wager was paying off. Because this was exactly what they had imagined. Daenerys had yearned for a peaceful reception in this foreign city, not a violent siege. She believed in giving the people a choice, letting them decide their fate. She hadn't wanted to siege it and cause unnecessary deaths. She aimed to have the people of King's Landing open the doors of the city to her army. Her plan was a simple one and was based on her past in Essos. She was giving the choice to the people. The Unsullied weren't throwing rocks on their roofs. The baskets were filled with bread, hastily made the past days and marked with the Targaryen sigil. Having seen the living conditions of the folks, knew how much this small token would mean to the folk. This was literally gold for them. If people kept working in these horrible conditions, it was because they had families to feed.

They kept going like this for a few more volleys. They hadn't been able to produce many loaves since they also had to feed a gigantic army in the middle of the winter. But with some effort, they had managed to spare enough resources to bake these loaves of bread. It wouldn't be a lot, but Eragon knew this gesture would be remembered. From what Eragon had been told, she had done a similar action in Essos where instead of bread, she had thrown broken collars. And he couldn't help but compare it to Nasuada's gesture after the Varden's campaign once Galbatorix had been killed. Two coins had been offered to every person, regardless of their past allegiance. This small token had offered her the love of the people. On both occasions, these simple solutions had brought enormous support from the people. These men and women didn't care about the lineage of their king. They were only seeking to bring some food to their home and to offer shelter to their family and would follow whoever could provide it.

During this wait, the army did nothing but wait in the vicinity of King's Landing. The mood remained very light amongst the soldiers and the nights were spent around huge bonfires created by the dragons. Eragon even spent some time exploring the lands and the forests surrounding the city. Some of the trees here were different from the ones he had seen in Alagaësia and he was curious to learn more about the wildlife.

It started faintly, a little spark in a forest of numbness and acceptance. However, it grew and spread like a wildfire. Daenerys' influence was growing, reaching all the people starved out and kept inside the walls of King's Landing. The rebellion had started. And if Cersei wanted to extinguish it, she'd have to take strong actions. In such a situation, words and promises would be completely useless hence why Eragon knew that Cersei's men didn't have a lot of time to act nor a lot of leeway. But they were already too late. The people of King's Landing had taken their fate into their own hands and were fighting for it now. Two days after the Unsullied had thrown bread above the wall, a shift took place inside the city. Eragon could hear them screaming, rallying the people to get their freedom.

They could hear the shouts, the protests and the rallying cries. Eragon with his sight could see the guards leaving the top of the walls of the city, trying to defend the positions under threat. King's Landing was under attack, but the threat was coming from inside.

Their only input had been the loaves of bread, thrown on the city two days ago. He was honestly surprised by how quickly things had turned out in their favour.

Eragon and Saphira could see the doors shaking, the hinges on the verge of breaking. Eragon could only guess about what was happening on the other side but he had a fairly good idea. The people were pushing, trying to overwhelm the guards and to reach the doors, to open them one way or another. It sounded like an ocean, with waves crashing tirelessly against the hindrances placed there.

After a last brutal shock, they heard multiple cheers from the citizens inside the city. Daenerys, Tyrion and Eragon hadn't made a step in the direction of King's Landing but their whole attention was turned on the door. Behind, Grey Worm was preparing the Unsullied to face whatever would come out of it. As expected, no shouts were needed, only a few instructions followed and carried on in a matter of minutes.

After some long minutes, the gates opened in a loud rumble, a deeply unsettling noise. The movement was clearly irregular. The mechanism to open the door had probably been broken during the skirmishes and the people now needed to force the opening. Behind the doors, they could see hundreds of citizens, pressed against the walls. With a frown, he saw a few bodies, lying on the ground, that had yet to be removed. The soldiers were nowhere to be seen, and the people standing on the other side were solely composed of commoners.

For a few seconds, a silence fell between the two sides, each taking in what was happening. Daenerys, Tyrion and Eragon were gauging the reaction of the people in the city. They had started their quest for freedom, but no one knew how they would react to an army waiting on the borders of their city, even if said army had fed them not a week ago.

The tension slowly rose as both sides stared at each other. But after a few tense seconds, a cry broke the silence. However, only Eragon and Saphira were able to properly understand what had been shouted. The Unsullied didn't and in reaction, they immediately strengthened their hold on their spears, a gesture that would prove to be useless, but Eragon didn't have the time to correct them. In a few seconds, the cries had gotten louder and it was now perfectly clear to understand what they were shouting. It was a single word, chanted in a loop, filled with the hope of a whole city, a city which had fought for its freedom and was now waiting: "Targaryen".

"Targaryen"

This single word was repeated, shouted and echoed across the streets of King's Landing, spread now by all the people waiting on the other side of the gates of the capital. They hadn't moved, not daring to leave the pseudo-security offered by the ramparts of the city.

However, the same couldn't be said for them. Inaction wasn't something Daenerys liked; a trait proved true moments later.

Eragon noticed Daenerys, who had gotten into motion and was walking in the direction of the city, unafraid, unfazed and determined.

Immediately, the army went into motion to follow her but she raised her left hand, which caused an abrupt stop. Turning to face them, her instructions clear for all:

"If Tyrion, Jon and Eragon could join me, I'd appreciate it. For the moment, the army doesn't enter the city. I won't scare the people of King's Landing and I want to make sure Cersei won't launch an attack from behind the lines," came her short orders.

Eragon shrugged, before walking in Daenerys's direction. He knew he could refuse it, but he had no reason to. He would be cautious, but he knew not many would be able to wound him. He knew that if any harm was to fall on him, nothing would remain of King's Landing once Saphira was done with it.

Jon seemed to be in the same opinion, unlike Tyrion who tried to argue during a few moments with Daenerys to let a few soldiers follow them, to no avail. After a few seconds of whispered arguments, he seemed to accept his Queen's decision, quietly getting in line behind her, scolding along the way.

Together, they walked in the direction of the city where all the people were waiting for them. As they got closer, they had a better look at their face and their eyes. It was a mixture of fear, mistrust and hope that was painted on most of them. They had also turned silent when they noticed them walking in their direction. Eragon and the others also started to smell the stench of the city yet nothing but a short wrinkle of her nose indicated Daenerys had noticed it.

"I'll be following you, make sure you don't fall into a bunch of troubles like you always do little one because if you do, I'm not getting in this smelly city to save you" said Saphira mockingly but with the smallest touch of worry.

"You know troubles always find me!" replied Eragon indignantly with a hint of amusement

"Hush you. Follow Daenerys and make sure nothing more dangerous than a few smelly humans chanting stumble on you. Drogon and Rhaegal are not ready to tackle such a city with the subtlety required for dragons" replied Saphira and Eragon for once didn't know how serious she was with her statement.

Nevertheless, he followed the trio, entering the city. He noticed some crispation on Tyrion but as far as Eragon knew, the dwarf didn't carry any weapon to protect him and relied entirely on him and Jon. So did Daenerys for that matter, but she looked more relaxed than her Hand.

They walked for a few more steps before she stopped, facing a large number of commoners. Gathering her courage, she distanced herself from the three men, took a few steps and reached a small area cleared of rumbles. The people had also distanced themselves, leaving a small empty space around Daenerys in the shape of a circle. She took a moment, facing them, probably choosing her next words and taking in the living conditions.

"I am Daenerys Targaryen. You might have heard things about me or nothing at all. It doesn't really matter. If I stand here, it's to speak to you and not to Cersei Lannister or whoever lives in this Red Keep, closed from the rest of the world. People of King's Landing. You have bled. Bled in the past for meaningless wars. Bled for your freedom, bled for your rights, bled to have some justice. And most importantly, you bled for your families, to bring some warmth and food home. The suffering ends now, for all of us. I am not your enemy. Winter is here, and the coming weeks will be harsh. But we will get through it together. No efforts will be spared to help every single one of you." She stated, with an honesty that surprised Eragon. He believed her able to deliver the same speech in the Ancient Language.

The people remained mostly silent, unsure of how to react. Eragon understood that at this point, they had lost all hope, and were tired of listening to people with false promises. They were waiting for acts.

"Lies" shouted one of them

A heavy silence fell as the people turned around to try to find the one who had spoken out. As it was, he wasn't difficult to spot. A wide gap was around him, the people unwilling to be caught in between.

The man wasn't armed nor particularly dangerous. But there was some fury, despair and loneliness in his eyes—the eyes of someone who had lost too much and had nothing left to lose.

Her own eyes shone with anger but she managed to control herself. But she had to answer him Eragon guessed.

"Apparently, you don't trust me. Why would you? I'm a foreigner, who comes knocking at your door with dragons and promises, like many before me. But I won't be called a liar" she concluded with a hint of anger in her voice

The man kept his head high and his mouth resolutely shut. No one dared to answer Daenerys.

"Help will be provided. While we speak, bread is being made and care will be provided by the maesters in your army" she concluded with a tone of finality.

And the giant crowd cheered, taking joy at this news. They hadn't taken into account that the small frenzy would start inside the city, most trying to have a grasp on what was happening, or getting closer to Daenerys. Wisely, they took a few steps back to avoid getting mobbed but if they wanted to be safe, they only had one option: turn back, something that would leave a bad impression. Fortunately, for them, the Unsullied had followed them from afar and were arriving near the gates. It seemed to be enough to deter and crush all ideas of riot.

Accompanied by a small legion of Unsullied, they made their way into the city. So far, they proved to be rather pointless. They hadn't encountered any Lannister soldiers yet. But the presence or absence of them meant nothing to Eragon. He knew they'd have to be dozens of hundreds of soldiers to beat him. Extending his mind, he could feel the clutches of people, but nothing indicating the presence of a hidden army waiting to ambush them.

They also hadn't heard from Jaime Lannister and didn't know what to expect inside or around the Red Keep. He was cautious, especially since his mind could feel agitation which could only be described as abnormalities. Human, but not quite.

Tyrion was guiding them in these alleys where poverty was the real leader. Eragon noticed there was no hesitation in his steps and yet, he wasn't taking them through the main arteries but rather through small passages and little alleys. Tyrion had walked here before, and more than once.

During their endeavour, their destination remained in sight, towering above them. From the outside of King's Landing, the Red Keep was an impressive structure, highlighting the wealth and power of old and ancient dynasties. It was overall, a great asset to the city.

But when inside the walls, it was imposing, humbling, almost humiliating. The contrast of wealth spread over such a small area was an insult to the people living there, under all levels of decency. Daenerys eyes displayed the same turmoil. From what she had shared with him during their travel South, this was close in some aspects to what she had experienced in Meereen. Hurdles stuck between wealth, dirt and walls. Masses chained by their hunger, poverty and families.

They continued like this for a few more minutes, climbing and walking towards the centre of the city. They only saw the first soldiers when they reached the inner walls but the sight of the Unsullied, Jon, Eragon and Saphira looming a few hundred feet above them made them disappear.

After a few streets, they arrived in front of the last gates guarding the Keep. Once more, they weren't protected. But they knew they'd enter the castle soon and wouldn't be as protected by Saphira as they currently were.

Eragon wasn't very worried about this. He was continuously roaming the city with his mind, along with the Eldunaris and nothing appeared threatening. They would anticipate ambushes with uncanny prescience, foiling the enemy's plans before they could even conceive them.

Tyrion was still guiding them, completely unbothered by the change of scenery. Daenerys on the other side was showing the first emotions on the mask she had kept tight during the day. She was reaching her dream and the legacy built by her ancestors after being deprived of it for her whole life.

The castle had been abandoned in a hurry. There was an eerie silence around them. No one stood in the corridors and most of the doors had been left wide open and showed the same mess and signs of a past hurry. Daenerys' attack had come as a surprise. Only one set of doors was closed and it didn't take long to figure out these were the doors guarding the throne room and the fabled Iron Throne. These doors were also quite different from all the others.

They were imposing and so wide Saphira could pass between if she somehow managed to reach this part of the castle. But the delicate carvings, displaying old battles and forgotten tales, made out of wood and metal wouldn't survive her passage. He could feel what was hidden behind these doors and frowned, tightening his grip on Brisingr.

Only five people would be inside the room, and Eragon already had a good idea of the setup and the welcoming committee. The outcome of the confrontation was inevitable with their current group. A small legion of Unsullied had joined them, swelling their numbers. As it was, each person would have to deal with ten Unsullied if they wanted to escape.

Jon walked up to the door, before bringing his hands to the front and pushing them.

He had barely started to push when two things simultaneously happened. A soft whisper which only Eragon heard came from inside the room: "Kill them" followed by the chattering of glass.

The second was the massive lance thrown at them from within the room. Immediately, Eragon focused on the projectile, intending to stop it

"Jierda"

He felt the familiar pull on his magic and the loss of energy to slow the weapon that had been thrown at them. He noticed with some surprise the effect it had on him. He spent more energy than expected to manage it. Nevertheless, Cersei's last attempt failed. No matter the strength of the caster, this was bound to fail. Eragon had once stopped the crash of a tower in Dras Leona.

Seconds after having cast the spell, they all heard the loud crash of the weapon against the tilled floor. Some eyebrows rose at the unexpected noise and a small feeling of panic rose from within their group.

Jon stopped his push, seemingly aware he had avoided death only thanks to Eragon's actions, but still unaware of what precisely happened.

He turned his head and faced Eragon, his grey eyes displaying respect and gratitude. The rest of his face was still locked in a frozen mask, focused on the task. Behind the emotion, Jon's eyes were seeking an answer, whether to continue or if some immediate danger was still waiting for them on the other of the door.

Eragon was the one to give him, nodding his head.

Jon's arms gave a last push and the doors of the Throne Room opened.

As expected, the massive room was mostly empty. He paused for a moment, feeling no coming threat to admire the room. It was bathed by the morning light through exquisite stained-glass windows. The light in the room played rather gracefully with the columns and alcoves of the room,

And the fabled Iron Throne loomed in the centre of this light, in the centre of the room. Hundreds of swords intertwined by the fire of dragons according to the story shared by Tyrion, to produce the symbol of power in Westeros. As he laid his eyes on it, Eragon believed it. There was something untamed in this chair, the very essence of ancient magic and dragons, a sensation akin to what he had felt with Brom's tomb or the Isidar Mithrim. Stories of old, of fire and dragons were kept within these swords.

And there, sitting on top of the throne stood Cersei, looking more regal than Eragon had ever seen her. There was nothing in her posture indicating she had noticed their entrance. Like a marble statue, she sat, resolute on the throne, not a hair out of place, her hands clasping the hilts of two swords.

They remained cautious but their worries were for naught. Cersei was dead, poisoned. Some of the poison was still in the broken vial at her feet.

Dead. The solemnity of that single act had yet to completely reach them when they were forced to jump into action. The Mountain, angered by his previous failure to kill them was trying to correct this and was coming at them. He held one of the biggest swords Eragon had ever seen, keen to cut them in two.

Brisingr was in his hands and before most would even comprehend what was happening, he was parrying a strong stroke. The blow of the two swords, steel against brightsteel colliding against each other rang in the large room. Neither wavered and they quickly fell into a pattern, exchanging blows that could probably cut most men in two, parrying them solely by the strength of their blades. This was one of the duels where two entered the room and only one would leave.
In a way, it felt exhilarating. With the absence of his friends, it had been weeks since Eragon had gotten a good sparring partner. While the Mountain wasn't particularly agile, his immense strength and surprisingly high speed more than compensated for this, making him an exceptionally dangerous opponent. He wasn't keen on making more victims, no matter how twisted and unnatural the mind in front of him felt and looked.

After a quick warning from Saphira who didn't like the idea of her Rider toying with his food, he parried a hit, before twisting his swords in a swift motion, pushing the Mountain's sword out of his hold. But Eragon wasn't done yet. Without losing a second, he deftly grabbed Brisingr with his left hand and cut cleanly the Mountain's right hand in one swift motion.

It fell with a loud thud, the sound of the gauntlet against the stone echoing in the whole room.

Nothing could have prepared them for the sickening smell and the black blood that oozed from the wound. Nothing about the Mountain was normal. It truly felt and looked like an abomination against Nature.

But the Mountain didn't seem bothered by the loss of his sword or his right hand. His left hand immediately went to his back, removing a dagger that was kept in his back. Much like everything related to his opponent, it possessed an immense scale. Eragon knew he couldn't delay and wouldn't be able to stop the fight without killing his opponent. The Mountain's reactions were abnormal, lacking any fear or pain. It brought back old and painful memories of Galbatorix's armies. How they had managed it here, he didn't know, but there was only one outcome to this fight.

As quickly as it had started, Eragon surged to the right, diving out the path of the dagger thrown at him with a jump. What the Mountain hadn't taken into account was the strength of Eragon's jump. Instead of arriving completely exposed on the side, Eragon had jumped far enough to be in reach of the Mountain. With the strong momentum, Brisingr whistled through the air, reaching his foe and separating cleanly the Mountain's head from his shoulders in a clean motion.

He landed on his two feet, as the body of the colossus fell backwards in a disturbing cacophony against the regal silence of the room. The Throne room was the tomb of the last Lannister supporters. The last one alive was quivering in fear in the back of the room. Nothing about his posture indicated a warrior but Eragon wasn't about to let looks deceive him.

But it was Tyrion who offered them the missing information, calling the last man alive they were facing Qyburn. He was the one who brought back the Mountain. He wasn't comfortable saving him when he remembered how broken and unnatural the mind and body of the giant had felt. They could still see the broken remains, oozing black blood. The decision was taken for him when the Dothrakis swarmed the room to secure it. Two of them took the quivering man to be held prisoner.

But at least, they had done it. Daenerys had won the battle for the Iron Throne.

Chapter Text

Several hours passed in a blur of activities, frenzy and arrests. The Unsullied managed to stop most of the Lannister followers and to defect the last remaining traps. Already, the Lannister banners had been pulled down and a few Targaryen sigils already hung in the Red Keep.

By the end of the day, the whole city of King's Landing was secure and Daenerys had managed to secure it while avoiding a bloodshed. Overall, it was a success on all points for her.

Cersei had been killed but the place was still filled with some last Lannister sympathisers. Hopefully, the presence of both Jaime and Tyrion might help hope Eragon, even if the former had been rather subdued since the death of his twin. They had found him in one of the closest cells, kept thereafter he had pleaded with his sister to surrender.

But part of Eragon's mind was already thinking of the future. He had dealt with already two major threats to Westeros and was longing for some respite. Rhunön's best craft, Brisingr, was an object Eragon cherished. But for the time being, he yearned to keep it in its shaft and to focus his mind on the rebuilding of the Cast rather than on his fighting stance. He also didn't want to involve himself more in human matters. His longevity and magical prowess unbalanced all the discussions and decisions which could be taken, something he wished to avoid.

With these thoughts in mind, he wandered in the silent corridors of the castle, completely unblemished by the recent wars that had plagued the city. Here, everything was richly decorated with noble materials such as marble and gold and displayed the wealth and achievements of the previous kings and queens. Many paintings and sculptures kept the eyes occupied, sometimes representing people he had he had seen alive in people's minds while he screened their thoughts.

Daenerys had asked him to join her in one of the many unused rooms of the Red Keep, one of the most isolated and highest.

He knocked, and, hearing her agreement, entered the room. This one was quite spacious, with several expensive furniture and a tall window.

When he entered the room, he found her near the window, staring at the city. High in the air, no one but the dragons could disturb them. The city, scattered under was a hazardous mix of neighbours and houses, with a few lights here and there. For the novice eyes, everything was a blur of darkness, of shades of black. For Eragon however, the darkness mattered little and he could easily spot the harbour in the distance, the camp where the army stayed, the countless walls of the city and even the small arena where they had met with Cersei for the first time.

However, there was a newfound feeling of peace inside the city.

« Could you make sure we won't be overheard please? » asked Daenerys. « I know the walls have ears and I'd rather avoid being overheard »

Eragon hadn't been sure about the purpose of this meeting, but he had certainly not expected such a start. It was unlike Daenerys to ask for some magic. She was now more knowledgeable than most humans, but refrained her curiosity most of the time. Nevertheless, he complied quickly, muttering a spell between his lips to make sure no one would hear their conversation even though he couldn't feel any presence in the vicinity. He saw some interest in her eyes, but she didn't comment further. In a few years, it should be within her reach, but for now, this was still a small wonder for her.

Nevertheless, the task was quickly done and he nodded to her.

« Thank you. As you probably guessed, there are a few serious matters I would like to discuss with you » started the young woman.

Eragon nodded, preferring to remain silent.

« I need time to think. Or rather, I needed time, » continued Daenerys.

Once again, this wasn't what he expected to hear from her. From what he had seen, this wasn't a familiar state for her as she usually had plenty of suggestions – some more brazen than others- to carry.

« Recent events left me confused and full of interrogations. Rhaegal's death, the Gedwey, your arrival, Saphira with her packs, Jon's heritage or even Jaime Lannister's revelations as much as it pains me to admit it. All of this left me full of questions, some still without a clear answer yet » explained the young woman with a frown marring her face.

« We all had difficult months and lived through events no one could have expected, » replied Eragon

« You are right. Dragons, riders, the Army of the Dead… There have been more myths exposed in the past few months than in the last century, and we had to shed some light on some of these. But I've had time to think Eragon. Being on the sea for so long, cut from most political games for a few weeks gave me … relative inner peace. And I'm now left with some questions, some of which only you can answer » enquired Daenerys.

« It becomes quite dangerous when only one person has the ability to answer some questions, especially if the matters handed are as sensitive as I expect they will be. But I will try my best to give some insight if it is within my capacity » Replied Eragon cautiously.

« Thank you » she replied seriously before taking a deep breath and asking « Am I ready to be a Rider? »

Eragon looked stunned for a few seconds. The topic of Rider had never really come between them. Eragon had taken the role of a mentor, someone knowledgeable about dragons, but just like Brom with him, he hadn't gone in-depth to explain the role of the Cast or Riders. There wasn't much to talk about at the moment, the Cast still reduced to a memory for the time being, something that earned him a spike of regret, shame and irritation from a few Eldunaris.

« This is an interesting question you ask. I will reply by asking a question before giving one answer. In my opinion, the first question is, are you a Rider? For a long time, I was unable to provide a definite answer. However, this is not the case anymore. I have an answer, and this answer lies on your hand. The Gedwey proves it, at least, to me and Saphira. But I think your question isn't on this technicality, but on whether you've learnt enough to be considered a grown Rider, yes? »

Seeing her nod, he kept going

« Then I would say you're still too early in your training to be considered a trained Rider so to say. It takes time to get there, years usually, sometimes decades sometimes. And this isn't only about you, but also concerns Drogon and Rhaegal » added Eragon.

« This is what I expected » replied the young Rider, absently rubbing with her thumb her own Gedwey, a symbol of her Targaryen ancestry. It was hidden most of the time and so far, only Eragon had seen it.

They kept discussing for a long time, talking in depth about Riders, dragons and ruling. For an external spectator, the discussion lacked any sort of logic, and coherence and the topics were fired without any pattern. Yet, in the middle of the night, Eragon could see, just as clearly as the harbour outside, new ideas slowly merging in her mind, some of which were immediately shared with him and others kept to her. They finished in the middle of the night and Eragon felt, deep inside, that this discussion might have shaped the future of Westeros and perhaps the future Cast of the Riders as he left himself the room filled with ideas and visions for the future dragons and their Riders.

When he left, he wandered aimlessly in the corridors of the Red Keep. It was probably his first opportunity to explore the place alone at his own pace with the rest of the world asleep, with a rather lax security in some places.

Saphira wasn't too far, enjoying a night stroll above King's Landing Bay alone. The air was cool around both of them and none was eager to break the comforting silence that was taking place. Their bond was more than enough, letting both know how the other felt.

Eragon's steps were light, a fleeting touch but in the silence of the night, the sound echoed against the cold walls of the building, reverbing.

It was an impressive structure which served to flaunt the wealth and engineering prowess of the previous centuries. He walked through several tapestries highlighting the glorious and wealthy past of the Lannister. He found several inner courts and gardens perfectly maintained. The contrast between this place and the city below couldn't be more pronounced. Here, flowers were blooming and trees and bushes were trimmed excessively. It was the pinnacle of superficiality and superfluous, where flowers received more care than some newborns outside the wall.

Finding such places in the middle of the winter and with so much poverty around only served to amplify the feeling of confusion and worry about the current state of this country.

He even found a large and complete map of Westeros painted on the ground on one of those inner courts. It left him bewildered to notice it was probably the most detailed he had found so far of Westeros.

He spent the whole night exploring the citadel, mostly alone. During his nocturn walk, he walked past a few Unsullied, stationed at several points of the castle, but except for a quick nod, none tried to initiate a conversation with him, which suited him just fine. The hours where spent in the same comforting silence.

He found several bedrooms, dungeons, and kitchens. The lower he went, the more common the rooms appeared to be. The Targaryens truly had made this place to make them look like gods.

He was surprised by the lack of books or trinkets. This was something he had already observed in the last few months. Handcraft was something quite important in Alagaësia and deeply rooted. A handful of trinkets were expected for most if not all ceremonies, the Agaeti Sangren being a prime example of it. Yet here, he had only found practical items, which were often duplicated on a large scale.

Back in the throne room, he noticed a flight of stairs unexplored. Feeling no danger, he made his way there. While the Throne Room had been an inviting place, bathed in light during the day, it suddenly felt cold and hostile in the dead of the night. The shadows of the swords were long and thin. The throne now almost felt and looked like the jaws of a dragon. He felt no need to inspect more closely the fabled throne, preferring to turn his attention elsewhere for the time being.

He kept walking, going down the stairs, his senses on alert.

The atmosphere of the room subtly shifted and he felt some tingles on his Gedwey Ignesia. Absently, he grabbed the hilt of Brisingr, before stopping dead in his tracks.
The jaw he had pictured moments ago was now a reality, facing him. Much bigger than Saphira and, from what he could see, bigger than Belgabad. Rows upon rows of teeth, all longer than his arms. Some of the front teeth were even longer than Tyrion's entire body.

The skull of this dragon was massive and he could feel the interest of all the dragons, especially the wild dragons. The fabled Balerion was truly gigantic. Vroengard had been an eye opener, a reminder of what was once the might of an elder institution. There had been too many bones and dragon fragments to count. Here, he was facing the true scale of the behemoth they were described.

Nothing could prepare him for facing a skull the size of a small farm, where he almost doubted the veracity of the piece in front of him. But the magic, the power and the atmosphere were impossible to mistake. Saphira's interest was there too, trying to compare this with what she had seen and learnt. But he could feel her surprise and awe mixed with his own.

A few dozen candles were lit, around and also inside the skull, accentuating the mind-blowing dimensions of the dragon. The flickers of the flames, licking behind the eye lobes were a sight to behold. In a way, it felt alive, carrying for the briefest of moments the legacy of the first Targaryens in the darkness of the dungeons. The legacy impregnated the stones of this cold place.

For the first time, he wondered about the Eldunaris of such dragons. From what Saphira had gathered, Drogon and Viserion didn't know anything about this. Why had the Targaryen's dragons forgotten about their Eldunaris? It was a question to ponder in a calm setting and not in the middle of a poorly lit cave.

Respectfully, and after some time spent silently watching the display, he distanced himself before carrying on the exploration of the undergrounds. Nothing would prove to be as exciting as what they had just witnessed.

But his thoughts were cut down when a Dothraki arrived to lead him to a meeting room which had been expected. He had expanded his tour underground to avoid the chaos of uncertainty.

Tyrion, Varys, Jon and a few other lords were already present, seated around an imposing wooden table. He could feel the tension slowly rising. There were around two dozen chairs placed, most already filled

« We will learn what this hatchling has in mind for the rest in Westeros then » mused Umaroth. As usual, all the Eldunaris had pressed Eragon's mind to get front seats for the coming gathering. Sometimes, he wondered how much gossiping happened between them, before wincing when all the Eldunaris sent the equivalent of a mental dragon pat behind the head while having Saphira laughing at his predicament. He must have made a face because Tyrion looked at him strangely for a few seconds before turning his attention back to his glass of wine.

The first minutes inside the room were painfully slow and very formal, with most lords trying to congratulate the others while receiving their part of thanks. It was simply a bore to follow but Eragon knew this was just the beginning of alliances that could shape an important part of the future Westerosi politics. Not many were paying attention to him for the moment and he was grateful for this short respite.

After a few more minutes, Daenerys made her entrance. Immediately after, silence fell on the room before all the people rose to greet her. She responded with a smile and a few words before making her way around the table.

There was only one last remaining seat which was conveniently a dark- almost black- wooden chair, with the Targaryen sigil engraved. It was an open invitation, a sign all of the lords acknowledged her as the Queen of Westeros.

She sat, her back straight, looking ahead, with all eyes converging on her.

« I needed time to think » were her first words, echoing those Eragon had heard hours ago.

« The history of the Targaryen family is intimately tied with the history of Westeros and the last years can only prove how true this statement remains. The two last decades haven't been easy for Westeros nor for my family. We both lost, suffered and struggled. But it is my strong belief that today, Westeros remains as strong as ever while I manage to bring back my ancestry where it belongs. I came here to conquer what was rightfully mine, the Iron Throne, and together, we managed to overthrow both Cersei Lannister and the Night King, and bring back dragons who were thought long lost. »

The whole room was silent, listening to her very words

« I've always wanted to break the wheel. Help those in need, trying to improve the lives of many in Westeros. By some unexpected turn of events, my path has led me to Essos where we fought to free Slaver's Bay. But coming to Westeros and helping all the Westeros has always been my purpose, what I want to do. Here I am now, in the castle my ancestors built. And yet, I gathered you here because I've decided to not step on the Iron Throne »

One, two and then three seconds. That was all the time they got to prepare themselves for the pandemonium that broke following Daenerys' declaration.

All sense of decorum had left the room.

While all the others were trying to make sense of what she had just said, by rising, shouting, Eragon connected eyes with Daenerys. He had strong suspicions of course, but he could now feel some pride in her last decision.

It probably wasn't the easiest one, but he believed, for the time being, that she wasn't fit to rule Westeros. He had never voiced it directly, but he had shared some doubts and expressed some ideas that betrayed his opinions to Saphira. She had listened patiently and even tried to help him, no atter how a bore human politics were for her.

He was proud that Daenerys had reached the same conclusion by herself, especially since he suspected she would have a long lifespan. Humans deserved better than a ruler with more power than a whole army and an extended life expectancy. Arya's situation would probably change in the next decade or so, but he trusted her to come by herself on the decision.

But Eragon was getting annoyed by the noise. He had to endure both the mess inside the room and also in his mind since all the Eldunaris were having some fun commenting on the pitifulness of the situation. Finally having enough, he slowly drew Brisingr a few inches from its shaft before whispering its name. And because he had enough, he poured more magic into his intention. The sword immediately burst into life, licking the metal with its blue flames, silencing the room almost as quickly as Daenerys' entrance a few minutes ago. Pleased with himself, Eragon stopped the spell and just as quietly, brought his sword back into its shaft.

The room was now deadly silent but all eyes were on him. Daenerys appeared slightly shocked but Tyrion and Jon were smirking, the former more openly than the latter.

Daenerys nodded to him as he remained impassive and silent., resuming her speech.

« As I was saying, I decided to not take the Iron Throne for the time being. Recent events have made me aware that I still need time and that I wouldn't be the best choice for Westeros. »

« What could have changed your mind? The Iron Throne has been on your mind for so long » asked Tyrion Lannister

« I think you know it as well as I do Tyrion, you've been with me for a few years now, can't you guess the reasons? » replied Daenerys with a soft smile.

He didn't answer, preferring to take a sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving the bottom of his cup but Eragon was sure the Lannister had a fairly good idea that somehow, Eragon was somehow involved in the current change.

« Then forgive me for my next question, but who shall we put on the Iron Throne? We crossed the country to remove Cersei and the country can't remain without a leader, especially in such troubling times»

« Removing Cersei was not only for me but also for all the people of King's Landing and Westeros in general. It was the right thing to do. And to get back to your question, I think this task should be quite easy for once. The rightful heir of the Iron Throne will sit on the Throne for the first time in twenty years, as it should be» she replied with some emotion lacing her voice.

No one reacted, unsure of how to take the news. No one had made a claim, except for Daenerys Targaryen and Cersei hadn't left any children. From Eragon's perspective, only Jon looked completely unphased.

« I fear that once again, you have some information that we don't » started Varys.

This made people turn their heads. It wasn't very common for Kings or Queens to keep their cards close to their chests. What was surprising was that Varys, who had always read, interpreted and made steps ahead of others when it came to political strategies, was the one asking for specific details of the situation.

The anticipation rose suddenly in the room. This was the moment of truth.

« That would be Aegon VI, the third-born child of my brother Rhaegar, also known as Jon Snow » announced Daenerys slowly.

Immediately, the attention of the room shifted to Jon who remained stoic, meeting their gaze without flinching.

« This is getting us nowhere your Grace. Whenever we ask a question, I fear it rises five more »

"Then allow me to clarify a situation which has been misunderstood and tarnished far too long. Two people, in two different places and with different means found some evidence of Jon's heritage. Bran Stark and Samuel Tarly recently discovered the truth about Jon's heritage and origins. Some information brought a new light on the Rebellion and its very origins. Lyanna Stark, Ned Stark's sister has never been kidnapped. She willingly eloped with my brother and got married quickly after, in a secret affair. This has been found out both by Jon's cousin, Bran Stark before he died and also by Samuel Tarly during his stay in Oldtown. They married and had a child. As you all know, my brother was killed during the battle of the Trident by Robert Baratheon and Lyanna Stark died in Dorne. What most don't know is that she died of childbirth. Eddard Stark was the one who found her and Jon moments before her passing » explained Daenerys slowly, giving a lesson in history to the lords sitting around.

People were contemplating her words, their looks holding some doubts. They were probably either contemplating the political impact of this statement or the likeliness of this story, twenty years after the events.

« What says it isn't another plot to steal the throne » exclaimed one of the lords present in the room, whom Eragon hadn't met before.

« Dimwit, she won the throne. Nothing is stopping Daenerys Targaryen from walking on it today, why would she create a plot to help her plans, » exclaimed Tyrion who was getting worked up by the latest news.

The other lord leaned back, properly chastised and remained silent. But Tyrion wasn't done and he kept talking, directing his questions

« Have you properly thought of this, your Grace? I'm not questioning what Bran Stark and the Tarly boy found, but I'm curious to see it and others will too. The Rebellion cost a lot of lives and some families still harbour some hatred towards some families. You more than anyone know how deep some grudges go. More than the choice of the new King, there is a lot to think about: you brought the Dothrakis, Unsullied and even dragons here. They followed your lead. How will they adapt? »

Daenerys listened to the words of her advisor before replying to the people in the room, careful with her own choice of words

"This isn't a decision taken lightly. Some of you may believe this and think this is a rushed action, that I made on my own, without thinking properly and overlooking most matters. But I can assure you, most of this has been deliberated thoroughly;

"So where will all your armies remain? As far as I know, no Lord has accepted the presence of Dothrakis "asked one of the most suspicious men. pompously

"As far as I'm concerned, no permission is requested as long as they respect the law, which they will" she answered confidently, with a smug smile.

He saw the indignation rise in their eyes, and so did Daenerys. But she took pity on them, quickly carrying on before they exploded in indignation, continuing her speech

"But you'll be happy to know that I have in fact asked for permission and that it was granted"

This proved to bring some curiosity, and the one who had questioned her past statement didn't lose a second to ask them who had agreed to such a deal

« The North did. Jon Snow and Tormund Giantsbane, the leader of the Wildings have both agreed to let the Dothraki, the Unsullied and whoever wanted to settle North of the Wall. There is a lot of unclaimed land, perfectly adapted for all kinds of lifestyles. From what our companions and the maesters from the North have gathered, the weather should be much more accommodating now that the Night King is dead." explained Daenerys patiently.

But he could hear the attention of the lords elsewhere, laughing at the idea of seasons changing. They were stuck in their presumptions of years-long winters they had always experienced.

Several lords scoffed but Eragon silenced them with a look.

« I don't remember seeing you in the battle at Winterfell. Therefore, I would suggest you decide carefully on your next course of action. I can be wrong, I've been before. But I won't be mocked, especially not by people without an inkling of what they're talking about and who were cowardly waiting in their keep while others fought and died for their freedom»

Most of them had the decency to look down, but one of them decided to push his luck

"So, you believe that in a few months, this foreigner found the explanation behind the year-long winters of Westeros while the maesters sought the answer for thousands of years," he asked, raising a single eyebrow in a drawling voice.

And while Eragon found this attempt pathetic, he couldn't help but feel some fury at the words of the man.

"Have you ever seen a coven of trees bow to honour the passing of true heroes? Have you ever seen an Edelweiss weep in joy at the feeling of its newfound freedom? Have you ever witnessed a night so cold that not a single sunlight could pass through for days?

We have. We have because we fought, bled and some died because you couldn't get yourself to move a finger after we crossed the whole fucking Westeros to bring a wight to Cersei Lannister. We stood there, not six months ago, in the Dragon Pit, with a very much alive wildling, asking for help and reinforcement. Some of you were here, quite happy to let Cersei do all the talking. Now, the Dragonpit is still here, the dragons are still here, but the wights and Cersei are gone. But I assure you, if you believe yourself smarter, I will attach you to my dragon's claw and bring you North so that you can witness by yourself the scars left there" replied Eragon coldly.

All around him, the room had turned deadly silent. The eyes of the lord were fearful after the threat he had made about Saphira. And they would do it if they had to. Eragon wouldn't let the sacrifice of his friends be forgotten or associated with a mundane event. Mayhap the words had gotten out rash from the lack of sleep. He really did not like talking in front of people.

The tension was now high in the room, the subject of the new King almost forgotten. Daenerys could feel the tension slowly rise and she wanted to avoid a direct confrontation after Cersei's removal.

"As Eragon pointed out, the situation North isn't as dire as it once was. This isn't something we, in general, fully understand. But as we speak, several of his companions are exploring the North and the latest reports all share the same pattern. It is getting warmer and nature is flourishing, faster than we have ever seen it before. The same reports are coming from all over Westeros"

« This is all good news for the farmers who would have suffered the most from a long winter » summarised Tyrion. « But unless I'm mistaken, you haven't answered my question »

«Indeed, you're not mistaken. The reason behind this exploration North of the Wall isn't purely sentimental. Eragon has asked both Jon, Tormund and I permission, to settle deep North with his companion to settle down there. I'm pleased to say that we agreed and I, personally, will join him to learn under his tutelage » shared Daenerys.

This had been the major point of discussion, in the past few weeks between Eragon, Saphira and the elves. Once they had started to understand the extent of the renewal of the North, they had looked onto the deep North, curious about this new area.

Eragon had immediately been interested in this zone. According to the few maps they had found, the space North of the Wall was enormous and completely unpopulated. And now that the snow was melting, they might have found a unique place to raise dragons and build a new Cast for the Riders. There were mountains, lakes, and no human settlements on an unbelievably wide radius. Their only concern was the lack of wildlife after the destruction of the Night King, but they knew that time would allow a steady repopulation.

The current situation was getting better and better for Eragon, or worse depending on the point of view. He felt that each intervention of Daenerys was pushing the people around the table to their utmost limits.

But she kept going,

« Concerning my armies, you are indeed right. They are obviously free to decide about their new life, as they've been since the liberation of Slaver's Bay. We spoke to them and most will either go back to Essos or follow us in our exploration North of the Wall. However, a few might have voiced their wish to settle somewhere in Westeros, something that won't cause any issues because of the numbers concerned by this specific choice and their promise to follow the law. Since the Northern leader, and the current King of the Andals, the Rhyonar and the First Men has approved this, this shouldn't be an issue, right? » she concluded, looking at the man who had challenged her on this point moments ago.

Once again, disarray broke. Eragon just hoped there wouldn't be more news received like this since it would mean more shouts. His patience was running thin with his lack of sleep. But he guessed it was to be expected since Daenerys was basically going against everything they had expected. She had wanted to break the wheel with her ruling, but Eragon thought she was breaking more by going against what had been expected of her.

He guessed not many were happy to know that Dothrakis would be free to roam Westeros. He knew the leaders of the Khalassar had promised to stop the most problematic and violent aspects of their previous lifestyle, but still, many Westerosi looked at them with fear and mistrust. He could however understand their unease. He had after all witnessed a similar deal when Nasuada had made her alliance with the Urgals. He had quickly been proven wrong and her decision was already shaping the face of Alagaësia and the Cast of the Riders

These decisions were going to change Westeros to its roots, and as always, those who had the power were hesitant to proceed with the change, afraid to lose their privileges and status of power;

The atmosphere in the room was solemn. Somehow, the people felt times were changing, that it was the end of a period and the start of another.

The eyes of everyone were now on Jon Snow. He had entered the room as a bastard and might leave it as a King. Stunned, no one seemed to be able to form any coherent reflection and were passively watching the outcome of the meeting. The few who had some opposition had been properly chastised and could only

All the plans of the lords had been blown away; their eyes were unable to hide the surprise created by Daenerys' statements. Even Varys, who usually managed to remain in control of his emotions, had slipped a few times, something unnoticed by everyone except for Eragon.

Jon was still waiting for his moment, knowing these seconds would be the last before he would be known as the ruler of Westeros. He had sat as a commoner and would rise as a King, and he knew it. He had known for a few days, and he had known this would happen when he had entered the room.

Leaving this room, nothing would ever be the same for him. The perception of all the people about his lineage, family, status and even his name would be changed. It was a daunting perspective to conceive. Once again, Eragon was forced the see the similarities between him and Nasuada. They had been raised without any motherly figure, had been singled out because of something out of their control, and had climbed to the highest positions in their country.

Finally, both had fought and bled for their country, to an extent rarely seen.

If Jon's ruling was anything like what he had seen in Alagaësia, then Eragon had little doubts about Westeros' future. His most difficult task was already in sight and was in fact, sitting at the same table as him. Jon would have to go past the lords who would crawl to him quickly enough to get in his good grace.

It was Tyrion who broke the silence that no one dared to ask. But he did so only after slowly

"Long live the King"

Chapter Text

9 years later

Eragon woke from his light slumber. Above his head, the sky was dark and filled with stars. For many hours, he had pondered their place, their existence. They were different than in Carvahall, Ellesmera or even Iliera and yet, the moon was still here, guiding them. No one knew the powers involved there. However, today wasn't about stars or moon phases. He left Saphira's side where he had spent the last few hours. He immediately felt the temperature difference.

Stretching his back and back and legs, he took a few steps, feeling the morning dew beneath his feet.

As he did each morning, he took a moment to embrace his surroundings with his eyes and his mind. It had become a little routine he would carry after a night spent outside. He would sometimes add an exercise of the Rimgar or train with Brisingr. However, while the physical training had some pros, Eragon didn't mind keeping his sword away for a few days. In his opinion, it had been used more than enough in the past. He had no desire to see more blood flowing on the length of the blade.

He carefully extracted himself from Saphira's left wing. It was an unusual and perilous endeavour, but one he was more than used to. Some of her spines were two fingers thick there.

She was definitely too big to fit in any house now, not that she minded. She was a creature of the skies, of the open air, and that was where she belonged.

Much had changed since their arrival all these years ago. The North was still a hard and cold place and today's morning was no exception. And yet, it was becoming everything Eragon had hoped for and more. Saphira had chosen to sleep on a cliff which stood over a forest that had once been home of the Thenns. Following Jon's accession to power, the few survivors had elected to remain in the South, leaving the place inhabited safe for a few wolves and stags.

Everything was quiet in the small village. Except for him, only two elves were awake and minding their duties. The rest were still sleeping, enjoying a last hour of sleep before another day of training began.

From his spot, he could see most of the habitations built by the New Cast. He always felt a swell of pride at what they had created. Dozens of small buildings could be seen in an odd mix of colours and shapes. They had started with communitarian utilities: a canteen, a library and even a sparring field. Afterwards, houses had been sung in old trees just like in elven cities. But it didn't stop there. The first two dwarf riders had carved caves on the edge of one of the mountains surrounding the valley. And finally, Velgra -the first Urgal Rider-had decided to build her own hut which bore a striking likeness to the ones Eragon had seen at Nar Garzhvog camp. The diversity they had hoped for was here, and stronger than even in their wildest dreams. Their place was becoming one of the greatest melting pots Eragon had ever seen. There was a rich and unique diversity of cultures, colours and languages hidden between the harsh beauty of the mountains. Of course, there had been some clashes between the students but nothing worth mentioning after a few days.

And yet, all of this paled next to what many considered the greatest jewel of the North: eight living dragons. Even after these years, he still had some trouble wrapping his mind around this unbelievable wonder. Seven dragons, roaming the skies under Saphira's tutelage graced their presence every day.

The skies, the forests and even the mountains bore scars highlighting the return of the creatures. Nature seemed to vibrate with a newfound energy and bloom under the presence of these living manifestations of fire-made-flesh. The habitants and Eragon had seen them flying together. Angela had called it a 'thunder of dragons'. And yet, it wasn't enough. There was something rough, extreme and yet so vibrant in this spectacle that could be imagined even by the most experienced jewellers but crafted by dragons themselves. More than once he had stopped dead in his tracks, caught in Saphira's mind or watching the dragons being the epitome of freedom. The awkwardness of being caught daydreaming by his students was nothing compared to the joy of witnessing such moments.

Some nights, Eragon and Saphira would engage the discussion with the Eldunaris, and they'd exchange stories, share sensations of their day or talk about the most random topics. The pride and joy they felt from the Eldest was always appreciated, along with their words of wisdom to help them guide and teach the new generation of Riders.

Leaving his train of thought, he watched the sunrise on the East. Today would be a sunny day with barely any clouds in sight. The dragons would probably explore the Mountains and follow an aerial pattern dictated by Saphira.

He walked by for a few seconds, reaching the house he had built. It was relatively spacious but not luxurious, with a few trinkets from his past travels. He reached his office, where some fairths were hung: his mother Selena, Brom and one with Arya. Besides these, only one broad mirror hung on the walls, next to the window. This one was used when he needed to communicate with his friends who had remained in Alagaësia. But Eragon wasn't here to lose himself in memories and reminiscences of the past. He had only gone inside to grab two slices of bread along with some berries collected the day before.

In the distance, he saw and felt the arrival of his students with their dragons. Sparks of colours were coming in their direction, growing with each second. In a minute or two, they'd be able to hear the slow and unique pattern of the wings. Seven dragons, bearing the Riders of tomorrow were flying in their direction. A filling day of teaching awaited them.

Behind him, Saphira stirred herself: "Good morning little one"