Here's another chapter that I hope you all enjoy. It's a short-ish one, since I wanted to end it where I did. Eragon leaves the camp yet again.

One thing that I feel like apologising for somewhat is that things begin to change around this chapter, yet it doesn't happen on-screen, for lack of a better term. There are hints of the changes, and those in the future, but they're occurring in Westeros, while Eragon is travelling.

A small time-skip, but nothing drastic. Basically, Eragon goes South and then North; I don't think that any details are necessary and so I've left them out. This influences the changes somewhat, but I feel that people would get annoyed by reading his trip. It's bad enough that this is a filler-esque chapter.

(I'm adding this a few hours after posting the chapter) Saphira is, eventually, going to arrive on the scene, but it is still a little while off. Eragon will have to get acquainted with the dragons currently in this world before Saphira (who is a helluva lot more impressive, I'm sure you'll agree) can show up and wow everyone. Plus, Saphira's damn powerful and adding her in too quickly would mean that Eragon could do literally anything he wanted, and nobody could stand up to him. Alright, he could kind of do that now, but he'd be overwhelmed eventually whereas Saphira would just cook and/or eat everyone that got in her Rider's way.

Please Review, Follow and Favourite. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and the direction this story is heading in.

-()()-

It was several weeks later, when Eragon was found, once again, stood at the edge of the Stark encampment. The northern edge, to be more specific, stood next to the Stark Lord and watching the females of Robb's house leave alongside the small-ish troupe of troops accompanying them as they headed home. It was a good move, on Robb's part, to put his foot down and send his mother and sisters back to Winterfell and, even more, to send protection for them and those that had been left behind as the army departed. Eragon had pointed out, to the King in the North, that it was not wise to leave his apparent seat-of-power undefended as he had. None of his advisors had had something to counter his reasoning and, so, Robb agreed to send a small force to accompany the three.

"I..." Robb began, trying to think of a way to properly thank the man stood next to him. When he could not think of words to properly express his gratitude, the young Lord settled on tested and true words. "Thank you, Eragon. I hate to think of what would have happened to my sisters had you not been here." The claimant king said, sincerely.

"You don't have to thank me, Robb," Eragon reassured him, yet again. "I'm just glad to see them safe." The Rider returned.

"Nevertheless, I feel obligated to offer some reward. Ask, and it's yours."

"You definitely don't have to reward me," Eragon smiled at the offer. "But, how about you promise to remember me when you sit on your throne? I could use a place to stay in the future, after all." He clapped the shorter man on the shoulder, and Robb grinned.

"Of course. My mother would have me flogged if I didn't." Was his response, as the two turned to watch the three leave. Catelyn and Sansa's hair looked far redder then normal, as the sunlight from dawn reflected off the pair, and Robb could see Arya's slumped shoulders even from here. "You best promise to return, though, if that's to be the case," He said, with a concerned frown. "I haven't ever seen Arya so sad."

The girl had latched onto Eragon, after the man protected her once their father perished; yet another thing that Robb was grateful to the man for. Even though she had seemed somewhat fearful after his display of deadliness, that Gendry had told Robb of at a later date, his youngest sister had been livid that Eragon had left, last time, without saying goodbye. She had just about forgiven the mysterious man, after Robb explained that Eragon would have a better chance of infiltrating the Capitol without notice if he avoided any potential spies; a factor that Robb, himself, had disliked since Eragon had all but accused Roose Bolton of treachery based on a feeling he got from the man.

Honestly, the idea that Eragon distrusted the man on instinct worried Robb even more; that was a skill his father had spoken of with admiration, after all. He would have to keep an eye on the man from this point forwards, lest his cause be taken down from the inside.

"Of course," Eragon promised. "How could I miss my favourite King's coronation?" He asked, amused. Of course, that was a long time away; Eragon had work to do before then. He'd hung around here for too long after rescuing Sansa, after all.

The Rider without a Dragon made a mistake in leaving her in the Capitol, he supposed. Honestly, based on the fact that he had two skirmishes in his trip to the Stark camp, Eragon had to admit that the girl would not necessarily have been able to cope. Arya was, in his opinion, the tougher sister, yet she had been afraid of him after the deaths of the Lannister squad; Eragon did not want to think of how Sansa would have reacted to the sight.

But, either way, he was glad he had gone back. Not only would it save Sansa from gods-know-what, taking the Queen from under their noses would inspire fear in the Lannisters; it would tell them that, even behind their high walls, they were not safe. Perhaps it would lead to rumours of boogeymen, or spirits that helped Robb Stark, and there would be defectors. At the very least, it would add to the fearful talk about Robb being able to turn his form to that of a wolf. Despite the confrontations he had when he returned, for not taking care of Joffrey while he had the chance, Eragon believed that he had done the right thing. Much as he despised him, Joffrey's death would simply throw the realm into utter chaos. His mother would crown Tommen, while Stannis would proclaim himself king. Robb would attempt to take advantage of the pandemonium, and press forwards. He would be met with a superior force; controlled by the Lannisters themselves, and would be crushed beneath their heel. The only way for Robb to grow stronger was to make this a marathon, instead of a sprint and, even then, he needed to gain support if he was to win.

Having Joffrey on the throne was the key to getting someone better. Tommen was a kind, gentle boy; his subjects would look forward to the day he came of age, and would not accept the claims of anyone else. That would prevent Robb from surviving this war, and the Northerners would perish with his failure; including Arya and Sansa. There was a good chance that, if he had been in control, Tommen would have spared the rebels because he was of that nature, but Tommen would not be in control. Cersei would be, and Cersei was not a forgiving person. She would not accept anything that risked her safety, nor that of her children. Eragon had thought, long and hard, about a way to prevent this. He came up with very few options; fewer, still, would be feasible. He had wondered, for example, if he could take one of Cersei's children. He would not hurt Marcella, of course, but he might have been able to trade the girl for the safety of the Starks. He had eventually dismissed this for a number of reasons.

Firstly, would be the difficulty of grabbing her. He knew that there would be guards outside her room, or Tommen's had he chosen that path instead, and if he was to kill them silently he would be risking the discovery that he was magical. On top of that, what if, when they fell, the bodies, clad in armour, rattled and woke the princess? She would scream, and the castle would be alerted. Were he to create some grievous wound on each of them, the princess may be alerted; she would scream, and the castle would be alerted. If he managed to get past this obstacle, and manage to sneak Marcella out of the castle; he would likely be carrying a very blonde girl through the streets. That would attract attention. Were he to miraculously get her out of the city, Eragon could not guarantee that his efforts would help his cause at all. Cersei would do anything for her children, but Tywin? What if the man asked for some proof that he had Myrcella? Eragon would not put it past the man to demand that he send a severed finger, and the Rider would not be able to do that to any girl, let alone one that was his captive.

He could not think of a better method to assure that Joffrey's death would bring any peace to the land, instead of a vengeful queen that hunted him, and everyone he cared about, to the furthest corners of this world.

Eragon had forced himself to steady his hand, because of this, no matter how badly he wished the inbred-king dead. Bringing chaos to the world would not bring the black haired children back, after all.

As the three Stark females grew smaller, and then disappeared behind a hill, Eragon rechecked the weapons on his hips, and set off; travelling, as always, very light.

-()()()-

"You there," A man began, in an excited, accented tone. "You need to travel across the sea?" He asked, loudly.

"That's right," Eragon nodded, as he stepped away from the overly friendly man; the person attempted to seize his arm, and the Rider was bothered by the attempt. He batted the hand away, and continued. "Is your boat heading that way?" The Knight asked.

"It is, it is, my friend!" He grinned, confirming the assumption. "The best you will find in all the Seven Kingdoms!"

"I'm sure," Eragon replied, sarcastically. "How much does the 'best I will find' cost?"

"Only six Silver Stags! A bargain!" He offered.

"Two."

"Four!"

"Three."

"A deal! A good compromise!" The man grinned, and Eragon returned it half-heartedly. The man was overly exuberant, and Eragon suspected that it would get annoying soon enough. "Please board the Marianne!" He pointed towards the boat behind him, and Eragon nodded. "You are lucky; we leave in an hour; you just caught us in time!"

-()-()_()-()-

The journey across the narrow sea was uneventful, though Eragon was correct in his belief that the man would quickly get annoying; the man had not become any less enthusiastic throughout the trip, and Eragon was not thrilled about having to leave Arya and Sansa. He had grown attached to the girls over the years, and was worried about their fate without him; even if it made him seem arrogant, Eragon believed that he was the best protection that could be given to the girls. Hopefully the jewellery that he had given to them before they left would prove plenty on top of the soldiers accompanying them.

And now, Eragon was stood in a different port to the last time he travelled over the Narrow Sea. Annoying, but it was nothing particularly crippling to his self-assigned mission, and so Eragon headed to a map; stapled to a message-board. Apparently, he was in Volantis at the moment, and so he would have to cross the plains of Essos to head to Vas Dothrak instead of following the roads from Pessos. Eragon wondered, briefly, whether there would be any animals he had to watch for on the way, but his attention was pulled away from future plans, as he heard something unsettling. It was oddly common, over here, for people to speak and simply assume they would not have any eavesdroppers.

"...Dead?" One of the women asked her friend. "How did that happen?"

"A curse." Her friend returned, in a conspiratorial tone. "From one of the slaves the Khalasar captured. She was a witch." She summarised the story; giving very few details, to Eragon's dismay as he only caught the last part of the conversation.

Eragon paused, as he was about to walk past the girls, at mention of the Khalasar. Unfortunately, the girls stopped talking, upon sight of the elegant-face man, and allowed the conversation to die in exchange for staring at him. Eragon frowned slightly with worry on his mind; there were many Dothraki hordes, so it was entirely possible that this had nothing to do with Daenarys but, after news of the death of her brother that had reached the mainland, he had a sinking feeling that this death affected him and his investigation. Even so, he had to look for the dragons and, if they were still alive, who would be better able to raise them than he who had spoken to thousands of their brethren through his lifetime? He said a silent prayer in hopes that the dragons would still be alive when he found them once again, and decided that he would do well to find out any details of the Khalasaar. With that in mind, he approached the girls that had been talking moments before and, now, were following the handsome man with hunger in their eyes.

"Hello," Eragon began, in passable Pentoshi. "Who were you talking about just now?" He asked the two.

"Khal Drogo," One of them answered, with a smile. Upon seeing Eragon frown, she continued. "Why do you ask?"

"I have a... vested interest in one of the knight's that had been travelling with him." Eragon half-lied. "Do you know what happened to the remnants of his Khalasar after Drogo died?" The Rider asked.

"They went East, I hear." Her friend shrugged. "But I am sure you can wait a while. Maybe get some rest? I have a bed you could use." She offered the stranger, and stepped in, uncomfortably close to Eragon.

"I thought that your brother was back for a visit," The first girl corrected. "You have no room to house a guest. I, on the other hand, have a large, empty house since my parents have gone to visit Braavos."

"I was more thinking that he could sleep in my room, actually." She turned to her friend, with eyes narrowed into a glare. "I am sure that I could help relieve the tensions of travel." To emphasise her less-than-subtle point, the girl pulled on the the loose neckline of her baggy shirt; flashing Eragon with a look at her breasts, and winking at the man.

"You whore," The other hissed. "Like he would want to do anything with a slut like you!"

"Pfft," The girl snorted, turning to her friend. "Like you weren't going to do the same."

"I was going to seduce him and start a relationship. I wasn't just going to mount him in a house with my family inside; not caring whether they heard us!"

"Like a guy like him would ever go for a girl like you!" Was the scathing return.

"Fuck you!"

"I intend to have him do just that!" She smirked. "You can watch, and learn, if you want." The evidently promiscuous girl offered.

As their argument continued, neither of the girls noticed Eragon backing slowly away; focused as they were on insulting the other, and the Rider made his escape. He did not want to sleep with either of the girls, given his differing morality regarding sex to that of this world's citizens.

-()-()-()-()-

Eragon was, at noon the next day, hidden in a tree, and somewhat ashamed of himself for needing to do so. It was irrational, since anyone and everyone would do the same in his situation, but Eragon was annoyed that he had been so dumb as to encounter this. He stood little to no chance of survival, if he did not exercise caution for now, lest he... well, he would most likely die.

Even with his magic, Eragon did not like his odds against this Dothraki horde. Perhaps he would be able to scare them off using his unique gifts, but there was no way to know for sure. He was unarmoured, and his limited wards would not hold off the arrows of the Dothraki for long and, without armour, the first one through his defences could potentially kill him. And, so, Eragon was hidden as he waited for the savage men to pass; his magic hiding him entirely from the sharp eyes of those that would hunt him.

The Horde was excited for something that was coming in the near future, but Eragon understood little of the guttural language; never having favoured the company of the savages simply because he detested the practise of slavery. It was the same reason as he had avoided Slaver's bay after the first time he, curious, had visited the area.

Because of their anticipation, the Dothraki did not linger around Eragon's hiding place, and so the Rider waited them out; his patience not being tried or tested whatsoever. That was fortunate, Eragon remarked, as he dropped out of the tree and landed with a soft thud on the dirt below. What was less fortunate, was the sun beating down on him as he knelt to the floor and began to dig a relatively deep, wide hole; roughly the size of a sink's basin.

"Reisa du adurna." Eragon murmured, and water began to flow up into the recently-dug hole. The Rider cupped his hands, dipped them into the water, raised them to his mouth and drank deeply. He repeated it a few times, before letting the magic ebb away; the water, as a result, sank back into the dry earth below and the summoner stood, wiping his mouth.

Eragon raised his hand, shading his eyes from the sunlight, and looked east; attempting to judge something. Trying to see anything he could use to estimate the distance towards the next town. He had not slept the night before, and he could really use some rest. Otherwise, he'd be in trouble the next time there was no choice but to fight and, so, Eragon bounced on his heels, before taking off at a run; a fast, but maintainable pace even in his tired, slightly hungry state. If need be, he could maintain himself with the energy of his gems and the magic running through the world around him. He thought of this because it would be a bad idea ot stop for a nap in Vaas Dothrak, which would be the nearest significant residence to his current position.

As he ran, Eragon's Gedwey Ignasia itched.

-()()()-

This town would serve Eragon's purpose, he supposed, though it was a creepy thought to rest here. He was fairly certain that the Dothraki had been here before him, though it must have been a different horde than the one he had almost encountered, since there had been no evidence of a recent conquest in the mass of savages.

The town, though, had been hit very hard. Razed to the ground, other than a few on the outskirts that the Dothraki missed simply because they were distracted by the presence of sheep-people, as he believed they referred to the civilised residents of the Dothraki plains. And, so, the Rider approached one of the still-stading buildings and looked inside; bracing himself for the worst.

He did not find it, as there was not a single corpse inside the shack, and Eragon let out a sigh of relief at his luck; looking at the pile of skins that would have to serve as a bed. Raising his hand, he uttered the words necessary to clean them, and went about setting traps on the off chance that someone approached his temporary residence; nothing that would hurt them badly, just stun and make a lot of noise.

In the morning, he would be thankful that his fortune held, and that nobody had found him while he was unconscious.

-()()()-()()()-

Eragon Shadeslayer grinned, as he finally found evidence of the Dragons, and their mother as Daenerys Targaryen had taken to calling herself. Although, to be fair, others wouldn't be inclined to call it evidence. It was unique to Eragon, in this world; the ability to listen to the world around him. The birds above him sang of the return of the scaled beasts; fearful, while the few horses that were roaming the area; either coming or going from the stream that ran past the cities of Lhazar and Meereen, thought of nothing other than the Dragons being their most feared predator in times of old, and the horror they held for the birth of these three.

Eragon's good luck as of late was worrying to the Rider; it was rare for him to go so long in times of war without something biting him in the ass. He was happy to find out that Daenerys was, most likely, nearing Qarth after being stranded in the wastes for a long while, of course, but he had the terrible feeling that this peace would not last.

-()-()-()-

Reisa du adurna- Raise/Lift the water