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Here comes the 26th chapter of the story!

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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.

This is the end of the chapter! I hope you've enjoyed it! Please, don't hesitate to comment, review, fav, this gives me a lot of motivation to keep this story and update quickly ! The battle is comng !