Hello !

Here comes the sixthchapter of the story! There were many reviews in the previous chapters, thanks a lot, it really motivates me!

DovahStark: Things are slowly heating up! I've yet to find the proper pace for the story but I really want to make sure the events are set in place!

eragon95159 : That would be a lovely and cute sight.

Jctherebel: Thank you for your kind words.

Tianyi : Many dragons and more to come with Daenerys soon!

ChunkyFunkyMunky : The Night King is indeed a creation of the TV show. I would have liked to put 3 fandoms (Inheritance, A song of Ice & Fire and GoT TV) but it's impossible on .

Obviously, I own a computer, some books and even a cat. However, I own nothing in the Inheritance Cycle and Game of Thrones franchise. They do belong to Christopher Paolini and G.R.R Martin.

Without further ado, here comes the chapter !

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

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.

This is the end of the chapter! I hope you've enjoyed it! It's the first time I've tried to mix different pov and I'd like your returns on this!

As always, reviews and critics are appreciated! A good incentive to publish faster!

Thank you all and stay safe!