Yo! Another chapter!

Now it's time to usher in the Second Season/A Clash of Kings

While this chapter is merely an introduction chapter to important characters
it still carries some important plot keys that'll bring about the changes of this world
and bring about some explanation about certain things
(Mostly me using writers freedom to its fullest extent)

Anyway

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Game of Thrones

Chapter 21: The Past Never Dies

It was a dark night, clearly more so than most nights. The Shadow Lands were darkening to the north and there was nothing they could do, even with the power to bind the shadows that rise with each passing day. Already three cities and hidden villages were consumed in the darkness and their inhabitants turned into the sickening creations from the far east. Past the Shadow Lands was their home; their forgotten home. Centuries, far beyond counting, ago the lands to the east of the Shadow Lands were beautiful, bountiful and kissed the coast of what the Westerosi call the Sunset Sea. That land that was called myth and legend, was only showing its factuality with how wild the Shadow Lands were becoming.

Winds were rising along with dust and ash. No longer were the other cities and hidden villages going to survive if even the mountains can't stop the spreading shadows. Too long the Kage of Asshai's hidden village sat idly by. The culture of Asshai as a whole was at stake, along with that of Yi Ti. Their race, old and forgotten and considered foreign was on the verge of complete eradication; they needed to find a way to stop the rising fear and rising evil from the east. Konohagakure, Sunagakure, Iwagakure, Kirigakure and Kumogakure were all gone but for some reason, they recognized their symbols on the weapons and shimmering hitai-ate of the shadow-warriors they'd managed to bind to their will.

To think the ancient dead were beginning to rise with the darkness, there was more disturbing news. Their foreign dignitary; Melisandre had managed to convert Stannis Baratheon, the true King of Westeros. She was a whore and a witch, but damned good at both. She had given them strange messages speaking of Azor Ahai and that this Stannis Baratheon is the second coming; rubbish. The Asshai'i knew better. If anyone was to be the Azor Ahai reincarnated it had to be someone younger, stronger, more refined to fight the White Walkers of the land of always winter. Of course the White Walkers had to come from the colder parts of Kaminari no Kuni. The Asshai'i had records of Kaminari but nothing of what was beyond the frozen peaks to the North of Kumogakure.

It was infuriating to the Lords and Kages of Asshai and surround lands. So many had been lost in their attempt to quell the rising dead. Not only that, but the Westerosi, their main source of payment had exploded in an all-out war. Too many of their shinobi were hired to fight and assassinate so far west that it was a wonder if they made it to Westeros or not. But of course, even with the darkness of the Shadow Lands rising, the problems with Yi Ti were also increasing; trade blunders, bad borders and the worst; Slave raids. Constant attacks from Yi Ti's God Emperor was beginning to serious damage the hope Asshai has for standing up to the dark, undead scourge on its way.

Entire weeks are spend sacrificing, praying and even having Sacred Orgies in the name of R'hllor the one true god of everything. The people of Asshai were desperate and had little to nowhere to return. There was hope though. Word spread of a boy who'd received premonitions of R'hllor himself. They didn't have enough information as to who this boy was, but it was certain that he was the one to save Asshai and Yi Ti; that could only mean that this boy was Naruto Uzumaki's heir.

A young shinobi by the name of Kai stood with a blank expression on his face. The tavern he'd just entered was chalked full of foreigners. They ranged from the dark-skinned men and women from the Summer Isles to the pale white men from Westeros. They were laughing and talking with one another, drinking themselves to the point some began to fall unconscious. Tavern Wenches were slapped on their asses as they passed and some were outright grabbed and practically raped on the spot. Kai took a deep breath, wafting through the smoke and flying spit. It was practically a nightmare here in this tavern, but nevertheless, he was here for a reason. There was someone important he had to meet. It took him a while thanks to the ridiculous amount of men and women that were packed into this tavern.

"Lady Tsunari." Kai bowed his head as he took a seat. "You wanted me?"

"Kai." Tsunari smiled, flipping a hand through her red hair. "You know you never have to call me that in private."

"Sorry…" He frowned. "It's a habit now."

"Cousin…" Tsunari sighed, the happy feeling had disappeared. "It's getting too dangerous here in Asshai. Red Priestesses and Priests are sacrificing heretics and non-believers left and right to try and get R'hllor to stop the rising darkness. But our Lord has his sights set elsewhere to fight the Great Other, not this."

"I know." Kai frowned. "What do you propose we do though? I'm shinobi, you're nobility. We can't just go and leave our people to suffer in the shroud of the darkness. It's getting more dangerous now to cross through land or even through the Jade Sea. The Saffron Strait has become more turbulent too meaning practically every exit is considered impossible."

"I have a way, Kai." Tsunari smiled. "I've heard rumors of a Targaryen having three dragons eggs. We can easily go and find her and help her birth them."

"Birth dragons?!" Kai nearly blurted with wide onyx eyes. "Are you mad?!"

"Of course not!" She chided with a pout. "I'm only saying that we should use her dragons to save our people. The Westerosi have the Lord of Light on their side, watching over them but this darkness is our own fault."

"But how in god's name will we take her dragons?!" Kai asked with narrowed eyes, completely skeptical of the whole operation. "We don't even know where she is. It'll take planning, plotting, money - which neither of us have - a ship, maybe more-"

"Oh stop it Kai." Tsunari frowned and released a pained sigh. "You've always been a cunt that doesn't know how to have adventures. Don't you want the dragons to come alive again? Don't you want magic to return?"

"Oh…I see what this is about." Kai crossed his arms over his chest glaring at his cousin all the same. "You're trying to be revered as much as our ancestor Naruto Uzumaki was, aren't you? You're trying to gain fame for being the one to bring us chakra back…well I'll tell you this now; leave me out of it."

"W-What?!" Tsunari nearly stabbed her cousin with a wooden fork.

"The time for chakra has come and gone, thousands of years ago, cousin." Kai frowned. "Even if the dragons were birthed, what then?"

"We'll have our powers-"

"And then what?" Kai asked once more. "We can't even read our ancestor's language and we're nowhere close to translating it than we were when we first stumbled upon them one thousand years ago. We have potential to use chakra, yes, but who in god's name will teach us? Who in any of Asshai's hidden villages are there chakra users? That's right, none."

"So you're telling me we do nothing despite the danger the darkness is posing?" Tsunari asked through gritted teeth.

"I'm saying we do something logical." Kai frowned. "Chakra isn't for us…not yet at least."

Quaithe sat, her eyes scanning the brazier in front of her. Heat radiated through her body, filling her with the Lord of Light's strength and wisdom. The flames flickered against her skin, the sweat glistening against her tanned, yet pale skin. She covered her face with a great mask that left only her eyes to be seen with complete visibility. She bore the standard hexagonal design that everyone in Asshai, shinobi to priest and priestess alike wore. She took slow deep breaths, drawing in the sweet smell of burning dead wood and bark from trees of the Shadowlands. The scent soothed and loosened her from her stress. Suddenly, a great powerful pull came through her body, almost as if the fire was controlling her.

She pressed her hands against the red hot metal brazier and stared into the flames. Her hands clearly burning at the oppressive heat, but not once did she scream. Her lips were shut with her eyes planted upon the flickering flames. Each passing second, the flames seemed to be speaking to her, showing her something. For a second, she heard a voice, the voice of her lord. He spoke to her, called to her, commanded her. Daenerys Targaryen, the Stormborn was to become the mother of dragons and she was to head to Qarth to meet her. Quaithe was about to question her lord but deigned from doing so and quickly bowed to the exploding flames.

The woman turned to face the followers behind her, their heads bowed deeply to the flickering brazier behind her. The Lord of Light has spoken and he commanded a pilgrimage to the west. Dragons were the greatest to behold the power of their lord for fire and light are one. Quaithe smiled beneath her mask; dragons! She felt her heart jump in her chest at the thought of gaining the powers of magicka, the ability to do more with her shadow binding abilities. There was always more to their powers but with the death of magic and the death of dragons, their abilities were nothing. But no more she thought, in a curious thought, she was about to wonder how her good friend Melisandre was doing in Westeros, especially with this information.

Men and women parted ways for the Red Priestess as she headed towards the entrance of the Fire Temple. Asshai was large with almost two million Asshai'i present within the city itself, easily larger than King's Landing but more cramped. Thanks to the mountains that engulf almost the entire country, they were forced to adapt to the terrain and built cities along the coast with their backs to the mountains. Asshai wasn't the only city there, but clearly the largest and most known. To the east was Asshurai home to Asshurai'i. They were fundamentally the same, but they were of different city-states. To the west was Asshani; smaller than her sister city-states, but boasted a powerful shinobi powerbase. Quaithe was sadly going to have to go through those two city-states to gather the supplies she needs.

Ship travel wasn't safe anymore thanks to the rising darkness in the Shadowlands. Of all of the travel lanes, the Jade Sea and the Saffron Strait had to be the ones to fall under the influence. Quaithe bit her lip knowing that this was definitely a test of her faith in her lord. The great Valyrian steel doors swung open revealing the beauty and awe-inspiring beauty of Asshai. The dark streets were left in the blood red hue of the lanterns hanging throughout the city and beyond. Not only, a great volcano rested not too far away from the mountains that protected Asshai. People walked back and forth, clothes bearing hexagonal designs. Above the streets, trailing her eyes to the rooftops, shinobi could be seen training in the art of evading and stealth.

The steps from the temple were great; almost two hundred in total. Acolytes of the Lord of Light trailed past her, following another Fire Priestess or Fire Priest. She was wondering when another Sacred Orgy was going to take place. She herself felt a small tingle and felt that the lord of light needed to be appeased in a different way. People bowed her way but kept their distance. She kept to herself as she tapped her sandaled feet onto the cobblestone pavement. Heading to the east gate, she needed to hire a carriage to take her to Asshurai for the ghost grass would undoubtedly taunt her horse to eat it. The perils of living so close to the Shadowlands.

The volcano rumbled softly covering the entire city-state in its ashen shroud. Quaithe didn't worry though, if any of them were to be hit with any of the falling flames it would be the best way to die. To be engulfed in the fires of their lord was what many of them hoped to happen to their bodies. To be burned was the greatest gift from the Lord of Light. An even greater gift, Quaithe heard stories of a few shinobi and kunoichi already learning to breathe fire like their ancestors from beyond the Shadowlands. The ability to control the element of fire was something that the Asshai'i and the Asshurai'i held in high regard, seeing as barely anyone could do it.

But in the past, Quaithe couldn't help but think of all the wondrous battles that ensued in the name of their Lord; R'hllor. She frowned at the thought for a moment though. There were legends of other shinobi and kunoichi of the ancient days that could control other elements such as wind and earth and even lightning but the worst of them all was water. She frowned deeper thinking of how many men and women had their fires doused by the use of water from the Great Other. She shivered at the heinous thought. Water techniques against fire could destroy everything her lord, R'hllor created.

The shadowbinder stopped herself when she realized that she was shaking in her kimono. Her eyes trailed left and right watching the shadows and silhouettes of men and women trudging through the streets of Asshai. The pagoda's were beginning to drop lanterns illuminating the alleyways to reveal the terrors that the night was known to contain. The night is dark and full of terrors. She repeated in her mind with a blank look. She turned on her heel and headed along down the dark alleyway keeping her eyes averted from the various slaves and prostitutes lining the walls and the doorways. Men were sickening but the women were worse here in Asshai. If one wasn't a kunoichi or a priestess, then that woman was going to be no less than a whore with little to no self respect.

Quaithe froze when her thoughts brought her to the image of her old friend Melisandre. That woman was once a slave. Thankfully, the Lord of Light had other plans for her and turned her into one of the most well-renowned Red Priestesses. But these women weren't as lucky, Quaithe frowned. She knew that there was nothing that could be done for these people unless the Lord of Light commanded it. She pushed along, finding the cobblestone to disappear with each passing step deeper into the alleyway. Her sandaled feet sloshed and splashed into the muddy, shit covered road. It was no matter, she'd walked this way countless times during her life, finding that with each passing day the road only got worse and worse.

Three men walked past her, bald of head but tattooed with fire designs and ancient designs that could only be described as their ancestor's culture. These men wore ornate robes and armor with spears and swords with blades in the design of a writhing flame. These men were none other than the Fiery Hand, there were a thousand of them here in Asshai to protect the Temple of R'hllor and another thousand in Volantis to do the same. These men were patrolling the area for non-believers or those who wish to taint the name of their lord. In her carelessness, she continued walking and didn't take notice of a bucket of shit and slop flowing from a window above her.

"Lady Quaithe!" One of the Fiery Hands shot out.

The large man rushed forward and protected the Fire Priestess from the falling filth. He took the brunt while the rest of the men burst into the building and immediately dragged the family out of the hovel and into the street. Their swords and daggers draw at their necks. The family pleaded and cried out, begging for mercy, but the Fiery Hands weren't known for such an act. I didn't see her! Please, I didn't see her! Quaithe drowned out their cries and simply wiped her kimono free of any of the stray pieces of filth. She gave the Fiery Hands a look and walked away. Not once she looked back, not even when their shrill squeals sent shivers up and down her spine.

Kai and Tsunari parted ways from the tavern with their silhouettes disappearing into the large crowd of people. The pagodas stood with an omnipresent glare, their red hue dimly lighting the city. It was slightly nerve-wracking to the young shinobi. The colors reminded him of the demons the scrolls from their ancestors bore pictures of. The colors were the same, black and red; almost like pouring blood. For some reason, Asshai was always filled with a heinous dread, almost as if every step was made with pain. Pain, Kai scoffed. Pain wasn't known until one became a shinobi.

The city was losing its hue, its beauty. At the base of an active volcano, the city could go up in flames at any moment, any time and worst yet, the darkness from the Shadowlands. A shiver ran up his spine. Images of the dead rising came to mind. They were covered in dust with their eyes blacked out, save for the white pupils they had. Their skin looked cracked with black smoke flowing from the open gashes in their corrupted skin. Kai froze in his steps. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Kai's breath shook with each vibration sent through and from his body.

Staying in Asshai wasn't going to be safe for his sanity. He needed to leave, if there's a mission to go to Yi Ti or even as far as Westeros, he was intending to take it as soon as he catches wind of it. Maybe he might even take Tsunari with him. He and his cousin were always close and having another adventure with his cousin couldn't hurt, especially in light of all of this destruction. Maybe she was right; helping birth the dragons that Daenerys Targaryen has would be a good idea. Maybe once the dragons are free, Kai was hoping to use them to beat back the darkness of the Shadowlands. Hoping, hoping, hoping; Kai sighed. Was that all they really had?

Hope the volcano doesn't explode and engulf them all; hope no one drops an army on Asshai's shores; hope the darkness doesn't spread over the mountains and take them all; Kai punched a wall, fed up with this waiting attitude. He felt like some caged animal with little to nothing to do about his destiny. Yi Ti was stealing their women and their children and murdering their men. Westerosi were too cowardice to come this far east and the darkness. The goddamned darkness; a darkness R'hllor had no care of. Kai knew it, Tsunari knew it, hell, even the Priests and Priestesses knew it.

Their Lord was too concentrated on dealing with the Great Other to care about a problem they created. The problem though, the Great Other was on the opposite side of the known world in Westeros. This darkness was a product of their own arcane experiments, and the mistake of a certain ancestor of theirs when they delved too deeply into the secrets of life and immortality. His name was taboo here in Asshai and the other city-states, but Kai knew him as Orochimaru. No one knew what that name meant or where he truly originated. Some say in the far east, farther than any man has ever travelled; others say he was a demon spawn, born of the shadows and demons.

All of this was born of their own greed and R'hllor was leaving them to deal with the problem on their own. Kai wasn't about to let the darkness take him without a fight though. The only known thing to defeat the shadow-spawn was through the use of flames. They flung rocks of fire at them, torches, even covered an entire field with burning oil, but even that ran out against the immense army. It was nearly impossible to defeat this darkness without dragons; without magicka; without chakra. Kai smirked finally finding himself agreeing with his ambitious cousin Tsunari. Kai looked up to the smoke covered sky, examining the stars, or at least the stars he'd managed to catch sight of.

We need to get our shit together. Kai thought to himself, taking a slow breath. He inhaled the soft smell of smoked fish and garlic rice along with the scent of sizzling beef. Our priorities should lie with protecting our way of life and not sacrificing to our God who doesn't care for our problems.

Clasping his hands together, the boy headed along, sandals clacking against the cobblestoned road. His black hair flowed down framing his face. As he trailed along, the rest of his shirt came to view and the people immediately parted. He paid no attention to their actions and continued along. As he passed though, the people's eyes were planted on the image of a red and white fan emblazoned on his back.

Rain pelted King's Landing for the first time in so long. People flocked for cover while those not so lucky were left in the torrential downpour. Families that weren't torn apart by the war cowered beneath fur blankets and tarps, while others simply withstood the rain. It was surprising to say the least. Rain barely ever fell on King's Landing. At least for as long as Naruto could remember. His blue eyes stared off from his covered balcony. The waters of Blackwater Bay were rushing, turning into rapids against the rocky coast. Waves thrashed before his eyes and the winds roared with a high pitched howl. Joffrey came to him just two hours before saying that his force was delayed due to the sudden rain.

Naruto sighed in relief at the news once Joffrey was out of earshot. The Prince wasn't looking forward to war. At least the gods were making sure to ease the passing. He sighed and rested his fists against the stone railing, keeping his eyes planted on the water and the city below. For some strange reason, he felt something in his stomach, almost like a dull, soft flame flickering. He took soft breaths trying to calm down the writhing flames but nothing so far would calm it down. He tried asking Sasuke, but of all the times that the Uchiha could disappear it had to be now. The boy had no idea how to call the man back, so he resigned to staring off into space.

He was alone to say the least. With Ser Delran and Lady Taerina out, handpicking his army, that meant that they were stuck with them. That meant that Naruto was left here in King's Landing with his only friend that he knew of being his squire, Bran. But even Bran had changed in light of everything that has happened. For a moment, Naruto once saw his own death in Bran's darker looking eyes. Naruto couldn't blame the Stark though; after all, he watched his father die before his very eyes. But if Bran knew about his father's death, Naruto couldn't stop thinking of why Bran didn't save his father. Naruto groaned and let out another exasperated sigh.

The rains pounded harder against the roof and the walls. Soon enough, the winds picked up, bringing the rain to meet Naruto face to face, drenching his tunic, blond hair and breeches. He frowned and turned on his feet heading back to his bed, ready to collapse for the rest of the day. The rain had already put a damper on his mood. He removed his tunic revealing his bare chest and all the scars and bruises from his previous fights and battles. But to his surprise, the burn mark was nowhere to be seen. There was almost no indication of burning or even a spear being dug into his side. The longer he stared at his body, the angrier he got though. He clenched his fist and rammed his knuckles through the mirror.

"So a spear digging into my side heals perfectly…" Naruto said through clenched teeth. "But these gashes across my face won't?!"

His hand traced against his cheeks with a soft caress. The once sapphire blue eyes shimmered with a dull grey hue. The reflection wasn't of him, it was of something else, someone broken. He knew, they knew, everyone knew how broken he was. He'd snapped, lost it all and for once in his life, Naruto had never felt so lost before. He clenched his teeth, his breath hitching with a newfound anger resonating within. Energy that he'd once forgotten surged within him. No one was near, no one was coming to see him. Bran was off with his sisters as Naruto had ordered, and his own mother was caught up with being forced to council Joffrey.

Sasuke had disappeared, Mayra was nowhere to be found. He roared, like a stuck animal. He cried out, spoke quickly, the words sticking to his throat. The power burned within him, spreading throughout his body, filling his veins with a new strength. His breaths were heavy and rough, but soon enough, they calmed. Naruto cocked his fist back with a newfound fire within. He stared at the broken image in front of him; a scared boy, terrified and lost. No longer, Naruto thought to himself. He'd been tortured for almost a month, forced to murder a close friend and sat around doing nothing for the last few weeks. He'd done nothing to show his strength, done nothing to show his worth.

He could hear their words. Monster, creature, freak. But they weren't coming from King's Landing, they weren't coming from the people he knew. Memories that weren't his were flowing into his mind with little to no reasoning. He could remember their faces though; their looks of disgust, their looks of abhorrence. No longer was he going to put up with it. His own reflection showed him how pathetic he'd looked. For almost two months, he'd let himself down, he'd let his friends down; he'd let his family down. The glass shards slid from the cuts in his knuckles.

He'd let them all down with how weak he'd made himself seem. No. He told himself. No longer. Joffrey may be king and he may not have any claim to the throne any longer, but he wasn't about to let Joffrey get full control over him. Naruto's dull blue eyes stayed locked on his ruined face. He fought the tears back, the pain rising in his chest. He clenched his fist as tightly as he could, drawing blood from his palm. His reflection pissed him off, filled him with a disgust that he'd never felt for anyone before. Before him, the man was a shell, a shell of what he could be. The potential had been realized years ago, and yet he'd let himself down. The thunder roared with him, as he emptied his lungs in one final rush. What was the point? There didn't have to be a point. Naruto didn't need a point. He didn't need a reason.

All he could say, was that what he saw before him was an image he hated. He hated it, he hated seeing it. That wasn't him, that'll never be him. His heart raced as he made his declaration over the booming thunder. The gods were on his side. The gods were bearing witness. The people might not appreciate what he'll do for them, but he didn't care. The people won't appreciate what he'll become, but he won't care. No matter the outcome, Naruto made a promise to himself and to those around him that he wasn't going to fall into darkness again.

"It is when we hit our lowest moments…that we are the most subject to change." Naruto whispered beneath his breath. "I've hit my lowest…change me for the better. Change me…Father, Warrior, Smith, Mother, Maiden, Crone…even the Stranger…change me, change me so I can never let those who wish me and my family harm succeed. Change me to beat even myself. Change me to never fall again. Make me stronger than the challenges I'll soon to face. Make me stronger than those who wish me harm. Gift me the strength to prove to myself that I am not who they make me out to be! Give me the power to follow my destiny!"

Thunder roared and the seas churned. He bellowed out, shooting his fist at his cracked mirror, chakra burning off of his fist. The glass cracked slowly at first, cutting through his broken visage and cutting along to the edges of the glass. He growled and roared once more, pressing more chakra into his fist, tearing apart the shards piece by piece until once he heard the gut-wrenching crack. He pulled back as the mirror collapsed completely, no longer able to bear his image.

His chest felt lighter and his arms no longer carried a weight that felt like a ton of iron. His legs were on fire, but waved with a cool wind in between. No longer did his breaths shake, no longer did it hurt to breath. No longer did his scars seem like unholy gashes. He stood tall, shoulders held back and fists already healing. Fire raged within his stomach, spreading throughout. His mind ran smooth, flooding with a euphoric feeling that simply kept spreading. Slow, deep breaths filled his lungs as a smile, the first smile he'd had in almost two months, spread across his face. Tears trickled down, sliding across his face. Tears filled with all the emotions he'd bottled flowed down his cheeks in a cascade.

"Naruto." Sasuke suddenly said. "You're going to need to catch up to the other players if you want the power to protect."

"Humph." Naruto grunted, the smile never leaving his face. "And how do I do that?"

"I have a good idea of where to start."

Daenerys Targaryen held the love of her life in her hands. His eyes were rolled to the back of his head with a darker hue. Her hands slid up and down his dark, copper-toned skin. He was dead in the mind, while seemingly fine on the surface. She'd been tricked, lied to and disgraced. Love was her weakness, her belief in the small hope of salvation disappeared the moment she'd agreed to that witch. The tears built in her violet eyes as she clasped his cheeks, even though she knew he wouldn't feel her. Her chest was numb and her heart hadn't beat this slowly in ages. Her silvery-blonde hair was loose of its braids, barely able to keep her Khaleesi appearance. Already more than half the Khalasar had packed and left them behind on the border to the Red Waste.

A small tear trickled down her face as she watched the pained expression spread across Khal Drogo's face. He shivered beneath her small, lithe body as she traced her palm across his bare chest. She wanted to hear him groan, she wanted to hear him make a sound. Anything to let her know that he was alive in there. He breathed slowly, almost to the point she couldn't even tell if he was. It was soft, tiny breaths and it filled Daenerys with so much pain to see him like this. She wrapped her hands around the pillows of their bedroll. Her arms shook and her body trembled on top of her husband. The Khal had never seemed so weak before. She'd never seen him so defeated. There was nothing they could do since the witch, Mirri Maz Duur had taken her sons life and given her a shell of her husband.

Daenerys shut her eyes, fighting back the salty tears burning at the edges. Her husband was tricked of life, her son was swindled of taking his first breaths; she was a fool to believe in the lies of a witch like Mirri Maz Duur. She was a fool to forsake everything, including the life of her unborn son to save her wounded husband. Her Sun and Stars was no more. She, the Moon of his Life, was no more as well. She clenched the edges of the pillow, raising it over onto Khal Drogo's face. He was in misery. She could sense it despite his rather peaceful disposition. She needed to end it for him.

Some things are meant to happen. Be it death or even the birth of life. Events that are part of one's destiny can't be changed, no matter how painful they seem to be. Daenerys thought to herself. I am the Dragon.

She pressed the pillow against his face, holding it down as hard as she can. She whimpered with each sudden lurch and twitch. He tried to fight back, but she didn't let up. She bit her lower lip, begging for the moments to pass on faster, to end the torture she was doing to him and to herself. Her heart raced when she felt his chest shoot in only to burst forward. He shuddered beneath the suffocating trap she had him in. Not once did he push her off, not once did he even raise a hand to her. He took it and that only served to break Daenerys more. She wept, shaking with each second. Before long, he fell limp, officially gone from the world and riding in the Night Lands with their son.

She rested her head into her hands as she finally broke. She wept and shuddered with each passing second. He was dead; her son was dead; her brother was dead. Everyone she'd held dear to her heart was dead and now the final one was by her own hand. She pushed the pillow away to reveal his face, wrought with a pained, but still blank emotion. His eyes were bloodshot and rolled to the back of his head. No breath, no sigh, no life. Her lips quivered the longer she stared at him, her shoulders shuddered as she rested her soft, pale palms against his chest. She traced the scars and the cuts to his body as her violet eyes locked with his purple face.

"Only when the sun rises in the west and sets in the east; when the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves…" Daenerys whispered into his ears. "Only then…shall you return to me, My Sun and Stars…"

"Ser Jorah!" She cried, a small croak escaping with her words.

"Khaleesi, what is it?" Ser Jorah rushed into the room, sword drawn.

"Get my bloodriders, we're going to set up a funeral pyre for Khal Drogo." Daenerys said without a single crack or break in tone. "And bring me Mirri Maz Duur."

She stood before her people in the dark of night. Khal Drogo lay upon a great wooden pyre surrounded by tall grass. She was calm and reserved with the remaining members of her Khalasar waiting her words. Warm winds blew through her garments and through her silver-blonde hair, filling her with a soft feeling of sadness and happiness all the same. Calm and reserved, her eyes scanned the remaining followers she had. No words were spoken amongst them and not a sound was made, save for the neighing of the horses nearby. Flaps of tents shook in the warm winds that began to pick up.

She shut her eyes when the soft scent of smoked horse meat filled her nose. The smell of the Red Waste filled her nostrils, entering her system. She felt elated, enlightened, despite all that has happened recently. Despite everything that had happened to her, she decided to stand taller, stronger and more powerful than anyone could ever hope. She was going to show all those who doubted her; belittled her; didn't believe in her; she was going to show them all what happens when you turn away a true dragon, a true Targaryen. She was no longer going to be a pawn in someone else's game. The tables have turned and now, she was a player, a contender for the final prize.

From the beginning she had nothing; no family but her crazed brother; no home, thanks to the stupid deals and words her brother would say to the different lords of the Free Cities; no money, thanks to the begging nature of her elder brother, and now, once she finally had those things, finally had the hope of returning to the place of her people, Westeros, it was all stripped from her, piece by piece. For once, she asked the gods, or any deity willing to listen, for once the tables should to turned in her direction. For once, she begged and for once, she received an answer. She smiled softly recalling what they'd told her through Mirri Maz Duur. Only death can pay for life.

"I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen!" Dany cried out in Dothraki. "I am the blood of Old Valyria! I am the Dragon's Daughter, and I swear to you that those who wish to harm you will die screaming!"

Ser Jorah Mormont and Rakharo appeared from one of the tents with a bound and tied Mirri Maz Duur. Small trickles of blood and flecks of skin seemed to be flowing from her face and the many bruises adorning her cheeks and swollen eye. She carried with her an air of defiance to Daenerys. It was no matter to the Targaryen, Mirri Maz Duur was going to feel her wrath in one way or another. Once the woman was secured to one of the posts of the pyre, she immediately smiled and looked to the Targaryen with a rebellious look in her dark colored eyes.

"You will not hear my screams-"

"I will." Daenerys interrupted with a raised hand, violet eyes darkening with an evil Targaryen glint. "And it is not your screams I want. It's your life. Ser Jorah, begin."

No time was lost and the exiled Northman tossed a torch into the tall grass leading up to the pyre. Slowly but surely, the flames spread across, shooting in all directions following the path of tall grass and into the structure itself. Mirri Maz Duur began to sing in Asshai'i, filling their ears with her ululating and shrill cries. No one understood her words, but those songs and verses were replaced with her tears and screams as the flames finally spread and engulfed her body completely. Daenerys watched with a small smile preying across her face. Mirri Maz Duur fought back against her binds, but the chains that held her did their job and kept her planted where she was.

Go to them. A small, deep foreboding voice sounded in her mind. It echoed with a heavy baritone. Before long, her feet began to move on their own, heading into the funeral pyre. The dragons will need their mother.

Before long, she found herself waiting in the fire, waiting for the intense heat to burn her skin from her bones, but none of it came. Her body wasn't in pain, or anywhere close to it. She shut her eyes once the fires caught onto her body, burning away her clothes. It was light, unbelievable light. Her legs collapsed beneath her as did the pyre. She knew what she was doing, all she wanted was their trust. The trust in her and what she was intending to do. No longer was she to be doubted, and this was just going to be a truth to solidify all other truths. She is the dragon, she will be the mother of dragons.

I am the dragon. I am the mother of dragons. Daenerys repeated over and over again as the fires continued to rise, bringing her dragon eggs to roll away from Khal Drogo's cremating body and closer to her naked form. I am the dragon. I am the mother of dragons.

Naruto looked at his palms, gawking at the blue flame-like energy wisping about. His breath hitched but a powerful explosion rocked his body from head to toe. The thunder roared once more as midday came to pass. He collapsed, gripping the rug beneath him, as the power surged through him. It grew with each passing second roaring through his system like the thunder outside. Nothing was stopping his power this time, nothing. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the edge of the rug, trying his best to hold back the amazing, flooding feeling within his stomach and his veins.

"Keep at it, Naruto!" Sasuke smirked. "Chakra! It's returned!"

A large beaming smile spread across Naruto's face. His breaths turned deep once again as the chakra rushed through his bloodstream, filling every nook and cranny, every empty part of his body. He shot back, muscles tensed and hands open wide. It wasn't pain he felt, but instead, strength beyond reason, strength beyond comprehension. She shot back, laughing with the rushing waves of Blackwater Bay. He bellowed out with shimmering eyes as lightning flashed. Before long, he stood, covered in a small blue hue of flames, flowing from his stomach and bare navel.

"Naruto…" Sasuke smiled strangely. "This is amazing…do you know what this means?!"

"No…?" Naruto raised an eyebrow.

"It means…" Sasuke shut his eyes for a moment.

"SHARINGAN!"

Welp, I had fun with this chapter

And to those who think this is a Naruto-bashing story, it's fucking not.
To me, what is a story without an enemy; what is a powerful protagonist without an equally powerful antagonist
where is the character-development without the problem?
what's the point of having another bullshit, rehashing of canon Naruto
even though this Naruto didn't go through anything near what canon Naruto had?

As said by Naruto in this chapter (That I stole from the Legend of Korra)
It is when we hit our lowest moments that we are subject to the greatest change
why do you think people renovate old buildings?
The world is constantly changing, just like ourselves
This Naruto is no different.

He was ignorant of the problems going on around him, ignorant of the Game of Thrones
Joffrey is too, so don't assume Joffrey knows anything
(Might as well call him Jon Snow)
He was in his own world of perfection until at the most inopportune moment
everything went to shit, like it is for a lot of people in real life
Naruto for most of this story was basically, a noble, honorable prince
Game of Thrones shows that those that are honorable have no place playing
Honor gets people killed and Naruto has learned the hard way

But once this war comes into full swing...oh baby
I hope you brought an extra pair of pants

Welp, Read, Review, Favorite, Follow, anything that floats your boat
reviews and favorites will make me a very happy author though so you know what to do!

Ja ne!

gottahavekyuubi