A/N: This is the effect of my conversations with sasusakuparadise on tumblr and one of her posts. Ladies and gentlemen, a Naruto/Game of Thrones AU/crossover, sasusaku style! ;)
There will be a lot of plot changes as far as the original series in concerned, but the beginning of the story largely the same, so please, don't go around pointing that out.
I hope you'll enjoy this M rated ride of utter craziness and that you'll let me know what you think! :)
Also, I should be able to post one chapter every week/every two weeks (at least that's the plan).
If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I will try to answer them to the best of my abilities :)
Enjoy!
DESTINED FLAMES
"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."
-William Shakespeare
Chapter 1
Her brother held the dress up so she could see it better.
"Beautiful, isn't it? Come on, touch it." Sakura did as she was told. It was soft and when she moved her fingers, it seemed to slip through them like water. She couldn't remember if she had ever worn a dress made out of such a fine fabric before in her life and it scared her.
She withdrew her hand.
"Is it really for me?"
"It's a gift from Magister Jiraiya," said Sasori with a smile. He appeared to be in a rather good mood that evening. "The fabric is the finest georgette you will ever see, dear sister, and its colour will compliment your eyes beautifully. A few golden adornments and some precious stones to go with it are what Jiraiya has promised as well. Tonight you need to look like a princess."
A princess, thought Sakura. She had already forgotten what it really meant to be one. Or maybe she has never known it in the first place.
"Why is he so generous to us?" She asked. "What does he want in return?"
They have been living in Magister's house for half a year now, spoiled by his servants and showered with expensive gifts. Sakura was fifteen, so she was old enough to understand that nothing in live came without a price, especially in a free city like Pentos.
"Jiraiya is not a fool," Sasori responded. He was a tall, well-built twenty year old man, whose gestures were still those of a boy. His green eyes held a lifetime of resentment and desperation within its depths, and they seemed to glimmer with feverishness that never failed to make her tremble. "He knows I shall not forget about my friends when I become the king."
Sakura didn't say anything.
Magister Jiraiya was a merchant. He traded in spices, dragon's bones and other more or less noble goods. He was rumoured to have friends in all the Nine Free Cities and even further, in Vaes Dothrak or the legendary lands on the other side of the Jade Sea. It was also said that there was no friend he wouldn't be willing to sell for a good price. Sakura listened carefully to what people on the streets were saying, but she knew it wouldn't be wise of her to question her brother when he was busy weaving his web of dreams. She was all too familiar with his anger. Sasori himself was fond of saying that to anger him was like awakening a dragon.
Sasori hung the dress near the door.
"Jiraiya will send the slaves. They will help you bathe. I can only hope they will be able to wash away the stench of stables. Khal Kolver has horses in spades, but tonight he will be looking for something else to mount." He looked her over attentively. "You're still slouching. Straighten up!"
He pushed her shoulders back, forcing her to do as he said.
"Let me see your womanly curves." His hand moved slowly over her only just blossoming breasts and then he lightly twisted her nipple, making her flinch. "Don't fail me or you'll regret it. I don't think you want to awake the dragon, do you?" He pinched her harder. She could feel it painfully even though she was wearing a thick tunic.
"Do you?" He repeated.
She shook her head mutely, unable to form any words.
"Good." He caressed her hair almost lovingly. "When they write down the story of my reign, dear sister, they will say it had all started tonight."
After he left, Sakura made her way over to the window and looked out longingly at the gulf's waters.
It was easy to notice the dark shadows that the sturdy brick towers of Pentos created on the sky, which was painted in pinks, reds and oranges of the setting sun. She could hear the red priests, who lit the night lights, sing in the distance. The joyful shouts and melodic laughter of the beggar children that were playing just outside the walls of the mansion could reach her ears as well. For a moment she wished she could be there with them – dressed in rags and running around barefoot. Without a past or a future. Without the prospect of dining in khal Kolver's palace.
Somewhere beyond the setting sun, over the narrow sea, laid a land of green fields, flowered meadows and rapid rivers, where the towers of dark stone rose in the company of never-ending mountains and where the knights fought in tournaments of all kinds. Dothraks called it Rhaesh Dahaanli, the Land of Greens. The people of the Free Cities referred to it as Terris Mare or the Kingdom of the Setting Sun. Her brother used a much simpler term. "Our land," he said simply and in his mouth those words sounded almost like a prayer. As if he believed that the gods would hear him if he repeated them often enough. "Ours", he spoke with fondness. "Our heritage. They've taken it away with deceit and lies, but it's ours, forever ours. You can't steal from a dragon, because the dragon never forgets."
Maybe the dragon remembered, but Sakura did not. She had never seen the land over the narrow sea which her brother considered theirs. Every place he spoke of, their names – Hidden Rock, Kami no Namida, The Uzushio, Uzu no Kuni, Waterfall – were only words. Sasori had been five when they were forced to leave Suna no Sato, running from the imminent army of the Usurper, but Sakura had been still in her mother's womb at the time.
Her brother told her about those lands so many times though that she could almost see certain scenes from the past in her mind's eye.
She could imagine the moonlight flickering over the black sails as they fled to Dragonstone under cover of darkness. Her uncle Masahiko had fought against the Usurper in the bloody waters of the Trident and died for the woman he loved. Then the Usurper's dogs, as her brother called both Lord Yakushi and Lord Namikaze, ransacked Suna no Sato. Princess Karura of Waterfall pleaded for mercy as they took away her youngest child and killed him in front of her eyes. The fear coursing through the veins of her cousins as they ran away from home, pursued like animals, with a sinking realization that they had no parents anymore and that their little brother had perished before he had a chance to live. The polished skulls of the last dragons looked with empty eyes into the throne room as the King's Slayer sliced open their father's throat with a golden sword.
Sakura was born on Dragonstone nine moons later, during a spring tempest, which had almost managed to destroy the fortress. It was supposedly a horrible storm. It shattered their ships, throwing them against the cliffs, and letting the narrow sea swallow what remained.
To this day Sasori didn't forgive her for their mother's death during childbirth.
She didn't remember Dragonstone either. They've managed to flee yet again before the Usurper's brother and his people could reach them on their newly-built ships. Dragonstone had been the only thing that truly belonged to her family at that point, the oldest premise of their clan, but not for long. A conspiracy had been formed to sell them off to the Usurper. However, before they could make their move, Ser Ebizou Tani and his older sister, Chiyo, along with some of their most trusted people, broke into their rooms and took them away along with their nanny. They travelled over the sea on the boat and hid in the safety of Braavos, one of Free Cities located at the coast of Essos.
Her memories of Ser Ebizou and Lady Chiyo were foggy. He had been half-blind with white wispy hair which reminded her of clouds. His voice rumbled like thunder when he barked orders at his servants from his bed where he laid, weakened by illness, but he had always been nice to Sakura. He called her "little princess" and often referred to her as "my lady" in a slightly joking manner. His hands were soft, as if covered in old leather, and he never left his bed, so his room was full of stuffy, humid and sugary air – a stench of illness. Lady Chiyo, though older than him, was healthier and moved around with ease of someone half her age. "Little flower" had been the only way in which she had ever addressed Sakura. She was very kind too, though she had a strange habit of pretending to be dead to scare people. They lived in Braavos. She even had her own room there with a lemon tree growing just outside her window. When Ser Ebizou and Lady Chiyo died, their servants had stolen what little money was left and so they were forced to leave shortly afterwards. Sakura cried as the red gates closed behind them for the last time.
From that moment on they travelled constantly – from Braavos to Myr, from Myr to Tyrosh and so on, to Qohoru, Valantis and Lys – and they never stayed anywhere for too long. Her brother wouldn't allow it. He repeated over and over again that the Usurper's roughnecks were on their trail, though Sakura had never seen even one of them.
At the beginning merchants, archons and trade magnates had been willing to accommodate the last of the Haruno clan, but as the years passed – and the Usurper was still sitting on the Glass Throne – the doors were being closed in front of their faces more often than not and their lifestyle deteriorated, becoming gradually that of peasants instead of royalty. Finally they had been forced to sell the last of their heirlooms, including the golden coin of their mother's crown. In the back alleys of Pentos, people called her brother the Beggar King. She didn't even want to know what they thought of her.
"Dear sister, we will reclaim all of it one day," Sasori liked to say and his hands sometimes shook when he did so. "The jewels, the silks, Dragonstone, Suna no Sato and the Seven Kingdoms. We will reclaim all that has ever been taken from us."
Sasori lived waiting for that day. On the other hand Sakura only wanted a big house with red doors and a lemon tree outside a window, and a childhood she couldn't recall.
Someone quietly knocked on the door.
"Come in," Sakura said as she turned away from the window.
Jiraiya's servants came in, bowed and started to prepare her bath. They were slaves – a gift from one of the merchant's Dothraki friends. In the free city of Pentos slavery was a thing of the past, however the servant girls were nothing more than that. The older one, thin and grey-haired, didn't speak while the blond-haired, blue-eyes sixteen-year-old couldn't stop talking.
They filled the tube with hot water from the kitchens and added some fragrant oils. Then the girl helped Sakura undress, pulling the thick cotton tunic over her head, and guided her into the water. It was very hot, but Sakura didn't even flinch, since the sensation was actually quite pleasant. Her brother always said that water is never too hot for a Haruno woman.
"Our clan is a clan of dragons," were his exact words. "Fire courses through our veins."
The old woman washed Sakura's long pastel-pink hair and untangled it with gentleness. The girl scrubbed her back and feet, repeating over and over again how lucky Sakura truly was.
"Kolver is so rich even his slaves wear gold collars. There are one hundred thousand people is his khalasar and there are two hundred rooms with doors made of silver in his palace in Vaes Dothrak."
She talked and talked about how handsome, tall and wild khal was, and how ruthless a warrior he was rumoured to be, and how no one matched him in terms of skill when it came to archery and horse riding.
Sakura didn't say a word.
For the longest time she thought that when she reached a certain age, she would marry Sasori. It was a Haruno clan tradition that had started centuries ago – when Aegon the Conqueror married his sister, Masahiko – and from that day onwards Harunos always married their sisters. Sasori had told her many times that their bloodline should stay clean since theirs was the blood of the kings; the precious blood of dragons.
Dragons didn't mate with wild animals and so Harunos never mixed their blood with that of lesser clans.
And yet, despite all of it, Sasori still decided to sell her off to not only a stranger, but a barbarian as well.
When the servants finished washing her, they helped her out of the tub and dried her with a soft piece of white fabric. The girl combed her hair until it shone just like fine silk, while the old woman rubbed some fragrant oils from the Dothraki lands into her skin, especially the inside of her wrists, behind her ears, on her nipples and between her thighs. The underwear Magister Jiraiya had given her was scanty at best and the dress she had been so enchanted by earlier seemed to be completely see-through, but she didn't complain about either, silently accepting each of the items with a face completely void of emotion. There was no use in standing up against Sasori, when he put his mind into something.
The girl slipped a pair of golden sandals onto Sakura's feet, while the old woman put a tiara on her head and clasped gold bracelets with ambers onto her wrists. The final touch was a heavy gold necklace with emeralds that brought out the shade of her eyes.
"You look like a princess now," said the younger servant when both women were done with helping her dress.
Sakura dared a glance at her reflection in the silver-framed mirror, which the ever-insightful Jiraiya had sent over into her rooms.
A princess, she thought, but then she remembered what the younger servant had said about khal Kolver's wealth – that even his servants wore gold necklaces – and she felt a shiver go down her spine as goose bumps raised up on her bare arms.
Her brother was waiting for her in the chilly entrance hall. He was sitting on the edge of the pool, his fingers gliding over the surface of the water. He rose to his feet when she entered and looked her over carefully.
"Stand there," he addressed her. "Turn around. Yes. Good. You look..."
"Like a queen," Magister Jiraiya finished for him as he joined them.
Even though he was a huge man, he moved with surprising ease. When he walked, his clothes in various shades of orange, yellow and red fluttered around him as if they were made of flames. There was a ring with a precious stone on each one of his fingers. His hair, which were long and impossibly white, was oiled so much it seemed to be made out of polished marble.
"Princess Sakura, let the Lord of Light bless you with his grace on this fateful day," the merchant said, his hand gently grasping hers. He smiled at her as he bowed, his too white teeth shining in the deem light like gems. "A revelation – that's how I would call her, Your Highness," he said to her brother. "Kolver will be pleased."
"She is too thin," Sasori stated with distaste. His hair, red as blood, reached his shoulders and were clasped into a tasteful ponytail with a dragon bone brooch. His stern gaze only accentuated the hard lines of his slim face. He put his hand onto the hilt of the sword which he had borrowed from Jiraiya and asked: "Are you sure khal Kolver likes them this young?"
"She has right blood. I do believe she is old enough for him," Jiraiya echoed what he had said many times before. "Just look at her. Those cherry blossom hair, those green eyes... There is no doubt she is of Valyrian blood. She is also the daughter of the previous king and the sister of the new one, which makes her royalty. She will make an impression on Kolver, I'm sure."
He let go of her hand. Sakura could feel herself shake with what she could only describe as fear mixed with nervousness.
"I hope so," her brother responded without conviction. "Those savages have weird tastes. Boys, horses, sheep..."
"I would advise you to not speak about it in front of khal Kolver."
Sasori's green eyes darkened with anger as he looked at Jiraiya.
"Do you take me for a fool?"
The merchant bowed slightly.
"I take you for a king and kings have a tendency to forgo caution around peasants. Please, do forgive me if I've offended you."
He turned around and clapped his hands loudly, giving his servants a signal to move.
They travelled through the dark streets of Pentos in Jiraiya's elaborately embellished palanquin. Two of the servants guided them with light, shining through the olive lamps' blue glass panes. Dozen strong men carried the sedan on their shoulders. Sakura could smell the heavy perfume Jiraiya must have used even though he was sitting across from her. The fragrance surrounded him like a fog.
Her brother didn't pay attention to it, too lost in his musings to care, as he lounged on the seat next to her. His mind was elsewhere, probably right across the narrow sea.
"I won't need his entire khalasar," Sasori stated. His fingers were dancing across the hilt of the borrowed sword. Sakura knew he had never used one before. "Ten thousand of those Dothraki howlers should be more than enough to wipe the Seven Kingdoms. The people will surely rise to aid their rightful king. Some of the clans despise the Usurper just as much as I do. And those who live in Waterfall can't wait to avenge Karura and her newborn son. They shall all follow me. They are waiting for their king." He gave Jiraiya a questioning look. "Am I right?"
"Those are your people and they love you," Jiraiya assured him . "In the entire kingdom people secretly make toasts in your name and the women broider the dragon emblem onto the flags to have them ready for your return." He shrugged his shoulders. "At least that's what my legates tell me."
Sakura didn't have her own legates or any other way to discover what the people over the narrow sea thought or did, but she didn't trust Jiraiya's candid words, just like she didn't believe in all that was being said about him. Her brother, on the other hand, nodded to everything the merchant said.
"I will kill the Usurper with my own hands," assured the one who had never killed anyone in his life. "Just like he killed my uncle Masahiko. And then I will kill Yakushi, the King's Slayer, for what he had done to my father."
"That would be the best course of action, I suppose," Jiraiya agreed. Sakura noticed a shadow of a smile on his lips that her brother had missed. Nodding his head, Sasori moved the blinds to the side and looked into the darkness. She knew well that he was fighting the battle of Trident once again.
The nine towers of khal Kolver's palace rose over the gulf's waters and pale ivy was enshrouding the brick walls almost completely. Jiraiya explained to them that this palace was a gift from the merchants of Pentos to khal. The Free Cities always stayed generous to the lords of the horse tribes.
"We're not afraid of those barbarians," he told them with a smile. "The Lord of Light would have saved our cities even if a million of Dothraki warriors attacked or at least that's what the red priests tell us... But why push your luck when their friendship doesn't cost much?"
Their palanquin stopped in front of the gate. One of the guards sharply pushed the blinds away. His skin was tanned and his eyes were almond-shaped, like with most Dothraks, though he didn't have any facial hair and there was a bronze helmet on his head, marking him as one of the Unsullied. He levelled them with a cold look. Magister Jiraiya barked something in the man's mother tongue and the guard responded in the same rugged manner before giving the signal that they could go on.
Sakura noticed that her brother's hand was gripping the hilt of the sword with such force, his knuckles were white. The expression on his face told her he was just as afraid as she was.
"Crude eunuch," Sasori murmured under his breath when the slaves picked up the palanquin and resumed their journey to the palace.
Jiraiya was fast to explain.
"The guests invited for the feast tonight are very important people. Such people have powerful enemies. Khal needs to protect them – you most of all, Your Highness. I don't doubt that the Usurper would pay good for your head."
"Yes," Sasori answered grimly. "I can assure you he had already tried to get it, Jiraiya. His thugs follow me constantly. I am the last dragon and he won't be able to sleep peacefully until I'm dead."
The palanquin slowed down and then stopped completely. The blinds were moved out of the way and one of the servants came up to help Sakura get out. She noticed his necklace was made of plain bronze. Her brother got out after her with his hand still on the sword's hilt. Magister Jiraiya needed the assistance of two strong men, since the sedan wasn't surely built to accommodate a man of his height and posture.
The inside of the palace was filled with the heavy aroma of spices, sweet lemons and strong wine. They were lead through the entrance hall with an elaborate mosaic of the annihilation of Valyria. Iron olive lamps hung from the walls. The eunuch standing under the shade of the ivy-covered double doors announced their arrival in a melodic voice.
"Sasori of the Haruno clan, the Third of His Name," he called out. "The King of the Andals, the Rhoynars and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. His sister, Sakura Stormborn, Princess of Dragonstone. His venerable host, Jiraiya Outsuka, Magister of the Free City of Pentos."
They passed by the eunuch and entered the courtyard with columns surrounding it which were covered in pale ivy, much like the walls and the entrance doors. In the gleam of the moon the leaves looked like bone and silver.
There was a lot of Dothraks amongst the guests – bulky tall men with tanned skin. They wore their hair long and oiled it heavily before braiding it. They secured said braids with golden rings and adorned them with tiny bells. There were also the hired thugs from Pentos, Myr and Tyrosh, the red priest fatter than anyone she had ever seen, hairy villagers of Port Ibben and the dignitaries of the Summer Isles with skin as dark as ebony. Sakura looked at them with interest, though she quickly realized with no little amount of fright that she was the only woman here.
"Those three are Kolver's blood brothers," Jiraiya whispered to them as he gestured to three men on the side. Two of them didn't stand out much against the crowd, but the third one had silver hair and the lower part of his face was covered with a piece of cloth. He also seemed to be the oldest of the trio. "The man standing near the column on your left is Kakashi – called Ver, which means wolf – and the two standing with him are Shisui and Shikamaru. Shisui is Kolver's cousin, I believe. Oh, and the man in the corner near the fountain is Kolver's birth brother, Itachi."
The last bit piqued Sakura's interest.
"Birth brother?"
"Yes." Jiraiya smiled. "A strange man, I would say. Very unlike his kin."
"Why is he so strange?" She asked.
"He is not exactly a Dothraki warrior," Jiraiya explained. "He travelled across the narrow sea to learn about the lands of your people, dear princess, and he speaks in several different tongues. He doesn't willingly engage in combat, but I've heard rumours that when he does fight, he moves without a sound, like a shadow."
Her brother eyed Itachi with suspicion written all over his face, but lost interest quickly enough. However Sakura's eyes stayed locked onto his person. He was older than Sasori, probably by at least ten years. His hair was long and braided, though there was no golden rings or bells in it, as far as she could see. His clothes were different from those of the other Dothraks – he wore wool and leather, just like them, but the way they were cut and how they hugged his lean frame made him resemble a knight more than a barbarian warrior.
She was still observing the man who had been to her homeland and probably knew about it more than she did when she felt Jiraiya's sweaty hand on her shoulder.
"Look there, sweet princess," he whispered. "This is khal."
She wanted to turn around and run away, but her brother was observing her like a hawk. If she angered him, she would awake the dragon. That's why she turned and looked straight at the man who – according to Sasori – was going to ask for her hand in marriage tonight.
The young slave girl was telling the truth, she thought.
Khal Kolver was a head taller than most men here, but despite that he moved with a grace of a feline. For some reason he reminded her of black panthers in Magister Jiraiya's orangery. He was also younger than she thought he would be, since he was surely less than thirty.
"I need to pay my respects," the merchant said. "Wait here. I'll bring him to you."
Jiraiya walked away while her brother moved closer. He clasped her arm in an iron grip, his fingers digging into her flesh rather painfully.
"Can you see his braid, dear sister?" Kolver's braid, black like the night sky, was heavy with fragrant oils. It swayed a little and the bells jingled softly with his every move. It reached well past his waist, even past his buttocks, and its end rubbed against the back of his thighs. "Can you see how long it is?" Sasori asked. "When a Dothrak loses a fight, he cuts his braid off so that the whole world can see his shame. No one has ever defeated khal Kolver. He is like the Lord of Dragons incarnated and you will be his queen."
Sakura looked at khal Kolver. His face was wild and cruel, his eyes were cold and red like blood. Her brother hurt her sometimes when she awoke the dragon, but she didn't fear him in the same way as the man she was looking at right now.
"I don't want to be his queen." She heard herself say quietly. "Please, Sasori. Please, I don't want to marry him. I want to go home."
"Go home!" His voice wasn't loud, but she could hear his fury all the same. He dragged her into the shadow as his fingers squeezed her arm with enough force to leave a mark.
"How can we go home?" He asked and what he meant by that was Suna no Sato, Dragonstone and the rest of his lost kingdom.
Sakura meant their rooms in Jiraiya's house, not their real home, but her brother didn't want to listen. It wasn't his home, neither was Ser Ebizou's mansion with those red doors she remembered so well.
Sasori shook her, trying to force her to answer his question.
"I don't know...," she mumbled finally in a broken voice, her eyes glossy with tears.
"But I know," he sneered."We will go home with an army, sweet sister. With khal Kolver's army, to be more precise. And if you will need to marry him and bed him, then you will do just that." He smiled at her. "I would let his entire khalasar fuck you if I needed to, sweet sister. I would even let their horses do so if I got my army in the end. Be happy you will only get one Kolver. With time you might even learn to like him. Now wipe away your tears. He is heading our way with Jiraiya and you won't cry in his presence."
Sakura turned to see if he was telling the truth and indeed, Magister Jiraiya, smiling and bowing deeply, was escorting khal Kolver to where they were currently standing. She did as Sasori told her. Then she looked up and her eyes locked with khal's. There was something she couldn't understand hidden behind his intense gaze, as if he could see deep into her soul. Strangely enough, the thought didn't terrify her.
"Smile," Sasori whispered nervously, letting go of both her arm and the sword's hilt. "And straighten up. Let him see that you have breasts, however meagre they might be."
Sakura straightened up and smiled, and she could swear that the corner's of khal's mouth twitched a little in a shadow of a smirk.
