A/N: Hello everyone! I found only a few naruto/got crossovers that were up to my taste so, here's my fanfic. Also, english is not my first language so, there may be so amateur errors on sentence formation and the I may use could be simplistic. So, just a forewarning.

I do not own Game of Thrones and Naruto, they are owned by their respective writers and producers of the shows.

(NAGOT)

Ned staggered against the man, their swords pressed firmly against one another, neither one of them willing to give an inch. The walkway was littered with bodies, the flagstones running red with the blood of the fallen men. It was near done now, he could hear the clashing of another fight behind him but that was not his fight. This right here was his fight as he huffed, pushing away with everything he could against the man he was duelling. The knight staggered backwards then and he seized his chance. This is for her, he thought to himself as he plunged his sword into the stomach of the man so hard it cut clean through his fine armour with a sickeningly metallic noise before it pierced his skin. He didn't scream in pain. His breathing was cut off almost in an instant, the gurgling noise at the back of his throat telling the victor he would be dead in seconds. Sure enough when the sword was pulled back from his body he fell to the floor and moved no more.

It took a second for the man standing above his lifeless body to remember why he was here. To remember the other fight that had been going on behind him. He turned sharply then and saw his friend pulling off his helm and wiping a hand across his brow, the final opponent dead at his feet. It had taken almost all his men to get this far and now only two of them remained. There were more not far away, camped in a secluded area just off the road so there would be a large enough group of them to return to King's Landing.

He swallowed hard then and looked at his friend who gave him an encouraging nod. He turned back to the tower then. The reason they were here was in there, he didn't even want to think about the state he would find her in. All that had happened. All the war and all the death had been for her. He wondered if she had any idea as he slowly walked along the walkway towards the door. Unsurprisingly it was locked and he turned back and searched the body of the nearest white cloak. He had a key on him and he straightened up and tried it in the lock. It turned easily and he pushed it open silently, the hinges not even creaking slightly.

The light inside was dim but he could make out the stairs and he took them two at a time, the further up them he got the more his heart pounded and before he knew it he was calling out her name. He got no response and fear gripped at him as he rose higher and higher up the tower, finally coming to the final floor, the door he was faced with closed but thankfully not locked as he turned the handle, still shouting her name. It faded to a whisper then as he fell through the door and caught sight of her.

"Lyanna," he whispered, her eyes were already on his but they were full of tears.

"Ned," she managed to say back, her voice so weak he could barely hear it.

Somehow he managed to put one foot in front of the other and approach her, the slight whimpering that did not come from her confirming his fears as he came closer. She seemed to be using all the strength she had left to cling to the bundle of blankets in her arms. The bed was soaked in blood and Ned felt sick, sicker than he had when he had stepped along the walkway and felt his boots sticking to the stones. This was his sister. What had that monster done to his sister?

"Ned," she gasped out again, "Ned you have to take him."

"What did he do to you Lia?" his voice cracked as he asked her, his eyes darker than usual as he stared down at her.

"Take him … take him … he needs to be with … his … father," she managed.

"Lia …?" he shook his head, kneeling on the bed and putting a shaking hand to her clammy forehead.

"I'm … sorry I … ran … I broke my … promise," she choked.

"What do you mean ran?" he questioned her, his brow furrowing.

"I loved … him … Ned," she said and he saw her hold even more tightly to the baby in her arms.

"Rhaegar?" he asked and she could only manage a faint nod.

"Promise me … you will take … my son… with you," she said then, her voice fading further.

"Lyanna … I don't …" he started but stopped himself. How could he tell her now she was dying?

"Promise me Ned!" she said desperately, a coughing fit taking over her.

"I …" he staggered over the words. If anyone knew about this her son would die.

"This war ... it's all my fault. I ... shouldn't have ... agreed ... with Rhaegar. I'm ... sorry."

"No," he said, shaking his head and stroking her hair soothingly, "It's not your fault. You never loved Robert, we all knew that. You had no choice. He wouldn't have been a horrible husband. It's not your fault," that part at least was true.

She seemed soothed by his words and closed her eyes at his touch, her laboured breathing the only thing that told him she was holding on to life as she lay so still. The baby squirmed in his blanket then and let out an insistent cry and her eyes fluttered open again at once. Ned's eyes stung with tears at the look of regret and pain that crossed her features as she looked down on her boy, shifting him up closer to her. It looked like it cost her a lot of effort and so Ned moved to help her and she pressed a kiss to her baby's forehead, before her own head dropped heavily back against the pillows.

"Keep him safe," she implored him then, "safe ... from Robert."

"I promise," he assured her, pressing his lips firmly together to stop the tears escaping.

"Promise me Ned," she whispered again, her eyes fluttering closed.

"I promise," he told her again but she didn't hear him.

The tears leaked from his eyes then as he stared down at her, her chest no longer rising and falling and her face as pale and beautiful as freshly fallen snow. He leant closer to her and pressed his lips to her forehead, his tears falling down onto her still face as he pulled away slowly, the cries of the boy still clamped in her arms rousing him. He looked at the baby then, his face all scrunched up as he cried. The light sprinkling of hair on his head was dark and he could see that his eyes were ocean blue, not the Targaryen violet. Thank the Gods, but what's with the whisker marks?

With shaking hands he picked up the bundle and rocked him gently. The baby began to calm somewhat, only soft whimpers leaving his tiny little lips now and Ned couldn't help but smile slightly as he looked down on him. Keep him safe. That's what Lyanna had asked of him. That had been the dying wish of his sister. Keep him safe. There was only one way that he could do that now and his heart panged uncomfortably as he thought of his wife. Would Catelyn ever forgive him? Could she?

He forced her beautiful image from his mind as he rose up from the bed and cradled Jon against his chest, his heart beating furiously as he thought of his own son. The son he had yet to meet and hold like this. Robb would be much bigger than Jon, he had received news of his birth months ago, just before the Battle of the Trident. It would have been so easy to ride back to Riverrun once it was done with but he had had to ride instead to Dorne. He had to bring Lyanna home. He glanced back towards the bed then and swallowed hard. She would still be going home, he would make sure of that. He tore his eyes away from the sight of her body then and his eyes were caught by what sat atop the table in the corner. Roses. Blue winter roses. He could tell even though they were wilted and dying, the edge of the petals crisp, some of them having already dropped to the floor. They had been her favourites; blue winter roses.

(NAGOT)

As Jon opened his eyes, he was being held by a man who looked in his early twenties. "Who the heck is this guy?"

Then he heard his mother asking the man to promise to him safe. "Keep me safe? But, what about mom? Wait ... why is she so pale?" The stench of blood hit his nose and he understood. His mother was dying!

"What the hell?! Why does my mother have to die in each and every life I live! Screw you Kami-sama. Even my chakra control is a mess. I can't even heal her!" All Jon could do was cry as he saw his mother slowly die lying on the bed while she asked her brother to promise her.

When the man began to try and calm him down, "At least I'll have some form of family in this life. Hmm ... this man, my uncle, is wearing some kind of armour, and that long sword. Is this some kind of medieval world? I'm going to have some words with Kami-sama when I die this time - ttebayo!"

"Argh! I have to up on that verbal tic this time!"

(NAGOT)

Jon grew up as a very healthy child. He was somewhat mischievous and would always prank the guards when they were slacking off.

Eddark Stark was a very loving uncle. He even introduced him as his low-born son to protect him and kept his true parentage a secret. He sullied his honour to keep his promise. Jon never revealed it to Ned that he was aware of his true heritage. In Jon's eyes, Ned Stark was a great man, but a bit foolish too. He could've at least told his wife that Jon was Lyanna Stark's son and not his!

Since Catleyn Stark was unaware of the truth, she disgusted Jon's existence. She saw him as a reminder of her husband being unfaithful to her and the marriage vows he took. She did everything in her power to distance Jon away from the rest of her children. In Jon's eyes, Catelyn Stark was a spiteful and jealous woman. He respected her, but he did not like her.

Jon had a fairly good relationship with his siblings except Sansa Stark. She disliked him and considered him lower than her. Robb grew up to love Jon as a brother and was a bit jealous of him for his skill in all kinds of weapons. Jon made sure to show himself only a little superior to keep his life less complicated. He did not like Theon Greyjoy at all. Theon always tried to insult him and was very arrogant and boastful but had no real skill to back it up. He was a little better at archery than others and spent most of his time at brothels. Bran and Arya Stark admired Jon and he would always help them get away with their childish pranks. Jon would always be there whenever Bran climbed a wall or would help Arya sneak away from the matron to watch the spars. He even taught her to properly use a bow and taught Bran how to fight with a tanto that he personally forged for Bran.

Jon, due to his past memories, was able to forge many kinds of weapons for himself. He would regularly forge his own kunai and shuriken and store them in scrolls, hidden away in his chambers. His favourite time in the evening was to spend time with Maester Lewin and read all about the history of the seven kingdoms and old Valyria.

At the age of twelve, he read somewhere about dragonglass being mixed with regular steel to forge swords that were stronger than regular ones and it could be found at dragonstone in abundance. He asked his uncle to ask Stannis Baratheon for permission to mine a bit of dragonstone. Stannis just shrugged and agreed without question after learning about Jon's interest in forging. After he got his hands on the dragonglass, he proceeded on making a tanto, kodachi and a traditional katana for himself. When being asked about the peculiar shape and built of his sword, he simply replied that he was trying something new.

He named his katana as kurama, which coincidentally existed in the lore of Yi Ti realm in the east as a nine tailed demon fox. The sword's hilt was orange in colour. It's guard was in the shape of nine tails surrounding the blade upwards while the base of the hilt was shaped as the head of kurama himself. The blade was black in color due to dragonglass while its edge had a reddish tinge on it. Jon had put a few seals on blade and made it self repairing just like Zabuza's zanbato. When he circulated a bit of through the sword, he was able to cut steel armor like butter.

Jon began using resistance seals at the age of ten and had increased their level to five by the time he turned fifteen. He was fairly tall and kept short hair. He was a master at archery and could throw his kunai and shuriken on multiple targets at once. He kept his other talents hidden to avoid anyone to turn people against him and accuse him for sorcery. His blue eyes exuded power and would unnerve his opponents in spars and he dominated the training arena even against multiple oppnents.

All in all, life was good. Although he always felt restricted at Winterfell and wanted to leave the place and explore the kingdoms, he left that to when any opportunity would appear. And soon after he turned fifteen, the opportunity arrived in the form of the king himself.