Author's Note: Thank you all for expressing interest in my first published story here! It really put a smile on my face when I woke up the night after I posted the first chapter and saw so much activity. I sincerely hope to provide a good read. For those who are interested, I will be providing some of my thoughts as I was conceptualizing ideas and writing at the end of the chapter. My hope is that it will provide context to some of the decisions made over the course of the story. Anyway, please enjoy the second chapter!

XXXXX

Chapter 2: No More Mushrooms

XXXXX

Eddard Stark was not somebody who was often confused. It was a point of personal pride that he almost always knew what the situation he was facing was. The main reason for this was that he lived in the North. The North was a place where the infamous Game of Thrones did not tend to fare well. Between the brutal winters and even more brutal neighbors, subtlety was not something that survived in its native population. Exceptions existed of course, but they were so few and far between that it never mattered in any meaningful way.

Ned did not recognize where he was, which is why he was in such a spot of confusion. A vast plateau was all he could see. It was made of grey rock, cruel and jagged as though a mountain had been shattered by the gods and its remnants scattered across the earth before him. All was silent; there was no wind, there were no animals, there were no people, not even the trickling water indicative of a creak. Nothing.

It was night. The moon was full and high in the sky with not a cloud in sight. Normally, Ned would enjoy such an evening. Instead it was oppressive, as though someone looked down on the earth and found its people wanting. He hated it.

Ned started walking forward. Pebbles broke apart and crunched on the stone beneath his boots. It echoed ominously in the moonlit landscape. He scarcely dared to breath such was the tension he was feeling. Stopping for a moment, Ned felt around above his head for the handle of Ice. He drew the Valyrian Steel great sword slowly, its weight providing a comfort he desperately needed.

Starting to walk again, Ned made his way up a small hill with pebbles continuing to scrape against the rock. It was further than he expected. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and yet it was as though he walked for hours and hours upon end. His calves began to burn. The slope increased dramatically in what appeared to be the blink of an eye. Slowly but surely, Ned made his way up the slope with Ice heavy in hand. Sweat came cascading off his brow and stung his eyes, but he didn't care. His fear drove him to this place.

About halfway up the sudden mountain, switchbacks formed by fallen rock allowed Ned to take a faster pace while maintaining his rate of climb. The silence was deafening. Rocks tumbled down the mountain slope as he walked echoing quietly into the distance. All that could be seen was grey, an endless landscape of rock where nothing grew. Life did not exist here. It was as though the world was dead. His dread began to crescendo, but he kept walking. A man possessed is what he thought of it later on.

Ned reached the top of the mountain. He stood mouth agape with Ice tip first pointed skyward as he instinctively got into a fighting stance. Dread turned into shock.

The rocky landscape was no longer silent. It was no longer dead either. For what else could the war he beheld in front of him signify? Tens of thousands of people fought on the plain below the mountains in what appeared to be a wide valley.

Wait. The mountain his opposite moved.

What. He could hardly believe it. A living mountain, it should have been impossible!

Then ten tails sprang out from behind it and a great eye, red like blood and lined by black patterns as though they had been tattooed into the very flesh.

Shock had transformed into terror. What manner of monster was this? How could the gods allow such a vile creature to exist? All Ned felt was the oppression of before amplified one thousand fold.

Ice no longer brought comfort to Ned. It existed merely as deadweight. He was cold, colder than he had ever been in life. Maybe even in death he mused a welcome moment of levity.

The ten tailed beast opened its jaw. It was cavernous like the largest cave in the world. Teeth that were much like a lion's hung down and glistened with implied moisture. Saliva droplets the size of entire cottages in Wintertown dripped lazily to the rock below flooding small trenches and gaps in the stone. The beast roared, a deep rumbling that he felt in his bones more than he heard, and yet still Ned clutched at his ears praying to the old gods for it to stop.

It seemed as though they had answered Ned's prayer. He opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. The beast's maw began to glow a sickening brownish pink as a ball of light grew in front of it. It was purple, white, red, and black. The swirling mass of colors seemed to hardly be contained and at multiple points threatened to burst open and spill whatever dwelled inside that hateful mass.

All sound ceased, as though the ball of the tailed beast had sucked it all up. Ned knelt to the earth and grabbed Ice where he had dropped it. The sword glistened in the foul light of the moon. The army below was motionless; in fear for their lives or something else entirely he could not be sure. What Ned did know is that he was in the same boat as them. They just didn't know it.

Sound returned as the ball was launched forth into the night over Ned's head. He instinctively ducked as it boomed over his head moving faster than anything he had ever seen in his life. The air itself seemed to resist the travel of the object, but whatever the ball was, it remained stronger than the natural forces of earth. The ball disappeared over the horizon, but Ned still held his breath. He could feel the atrocity was just about to happen.

A pillar of light erupted. Miles upon miles away, it was the same colors of the ball. The pillar ascended into the sky and seemed to never end. Ned regained his focus and turned back to the ten tailed beast with Ice raised to do battle.

Ned knew in his heart that this monster could not be allowed to live. It would bring an end to the world. He doubted that even dragons like Balerion the Black Dread could hope to scratch the monster. Logically, what then could men do? He had his answer. Men would fight to the last breath against the forces of annihilation where animals would flee into the howling darkness of the long night.

Ned sprinted down the mountainside. Winter is coming, he told himself. The monster before him was its harbinger. He was no longer afraid.

Eddard Stark was the Lord of Winterfell. He would rise to meet this wholly unnatural winter wherever it came. And so, he joined battle. Ice howled like a wolf as it swung through the air. The blade made contact with the beast and all went white.

White outs as they were called are among the most deadly events to strike the North during winter. Men could not see their own hand in front of their face. People would get lost just stepping outside and be found weeks later with the cold having taken them a mere stone's throw from their door.

This was a white out unlike any Ned had ever experience. He was conscious of the fact that he could still move his body. Crouching to the ground, he put a hand down. It was smooth like polished stone but warm as the hot springs upon which Winterfell was built. He was confused but didn't question it.

Ned was not often confused, but this night had made that feeling something he just accepted.

Vision returned to Ned. A lone figure stood in the white expanse of the distance. He rose to his feet Ice in hand as the figure turned.

Its flesh was pale like milk, yet also blue like the Wall at the apex of the sun. Its eyes were even bluer than its seemingly shifting skin, an ice blue that pierced Ned's heart as would a knife. The figure pointed at Ned and laughed. Its voice was breaking glass as it mocked the concept of life itself.

Without warning, the figure disappeared. Ned looked around fruitlessly, hoping beyond hope to look at it again. He knew it was important, but not why. He cursed himself for self-perceived ineptitude. What were the gods hoping to achieve with all of this? This could only be the work of the divine after all.

Something appeared in the corner of Ned's eye. He swiveled around more conscious of gathering details this time. It was another figure. This one was transparent and seemed to take up the whole sky of the white world.

It was a woman, and she appeared to be standing on the moon. She had soft features and closed eyes. Her face was heart shaped and seemed to be as lost as he. Then Ned looked at the metaphorical elephant in the even more metaphorical room. The woman had horns. They sprouted from her head and appeared as the ears of a rabbit. Like the figure before, the woman had flesh pale as milk and a long dress that was even more so. Hair draped in one long continuous sheet to what would have been her feet had the dress not covered them completely. He did not relax though.

The woman sharply snapped her head towards Ned. Her face morphed from one of seemingly divine beauty into one of malice and madness. Her smile was all too wide. Then she opened her eyes; all three of them. The normal pair of eyes were lavender with pupils that could only be made out with extreme concentration. It was as though she was blind, but Ned knew that she could see him with more clarity than any god. The third eye though was placed on her forehead. It was the same as the one on the tailed beast. Red like blood, it had black concentric rings surrounding its pupil. On the rings themselves were markings like that of a comma.

The woman slowly faded into complete transparency before disappearing entirely from sight. Ned didn't know what to make of anything anymore. He was about to sit down when a voice came from the heavens and addressed him, deep and booming yet also soft and welcoming. It could only be the gods speaking as one he told himself not at all confidant in his answer.

Know thy enemy, for if you do not, this shall be the final winter.

Know thy friend and see to it that the golden sun shall never set so long as the great tree stands tall.

Know yourself and trust the coming hurricane as a sign of light itself.

Know this, Eddard Stark.

Ned's eyes opened as he returned to the godswood beneath the heart tree where he had been praying.

"What the fuck."

XXXXX

Catelyn Stark sat with her children in the great hall of Winterfell. It was dinner, and Ned was late. That was not something that happened often. Ned being late often meant that he was working himself to death in his solar, so she summoned a guard to let him know food was ready and the family was waiting for him.

The guard was a man by the name of Bruce. He was dressed in boiled leathers with the Stark direwolf painted in a lovely white upon his breast plate. He nodded at Cat and verbalized his affirmation of the orders before turning about face and walking quickly through a small door with his sword swinging on his hip.

Cat was satisfied with the situation and turned her gaze to the Stark children that she was so proud to call her own.

Robb was tall, broad, and exceptionally strong for his age. His auburn hair and blue eyes shined brightly in the light of the hearth of the great hall. A cup half full of boiled water was in his hand as he offered something of a mock toast to his friend Theon Greyjoy. The Stark ward laughed at whatever jest was said and happily met Robb's cup with his own before the two of them slammed their drinks down within a couple seconds before belching loudly. Cat's nose wrinkled slightly with veiled disgust, but she ignored the feeling.

Theon Greyjoy was the luckiest prisoner in all of the Seven Kingdoms, for Ned treated him as a son while Robb was a brother in all but blood. He was tall and lanky with a narrow face that held dark hair and dark eyes. He was well versed with a bow but had never been able to best Robb with a sword. Cat thought that he was far too crude to be respectable, but she admitted that by her standards almost nobody would be able to fit the criteria needed to be respectable.

Bran was Cat's second youngest child. Like Robb, his eyes and hair were a brilliant blue and auburn. He was an adventurous youth and all too fond of climbing Winterfell's towers and walls. It drove her to near madness whenever she caught him in the act. Bran always looked so guilty afterwards that she never had the heart to really punish him. He was the sweetest child in the whole world, always so polite and kind to the point that she considered him her most precious of all her children. Sitting across from Robb, Bran took small bites out of a roasted and seasoned fish and was just happy to be here with his family. It brought a large smile to Cat's face.

Arya, the youngest daughter of house Stark was a spitfire of a child. She was the first of her children to have Stark coloring with dark brown hair that was almost black and dark grey eyes that appeared as a storm. It was aggravating to Cat that she would rather wrestle with the boys in the yard to sewing and performing other household duties intended for a ladies station. Even more aggravating was her relationship with the bastard Jon Snow. In the past, Cat would have attempted to punish Arya, but it always fell on deaf ears and eventually she just gave up. Currently Arya was next to Bran wolfing down her fish like a wild animal. All Cat could do was sigh.

Jon Snow. She loathed him. The living, breathing avatar of Eddard's infidelity insulted Cat every time he was within view. His features were pure Stark with his dark grey eyes and black hair. It was never said by her husband's banner men, but she knew their thoughts were of how his looks were that of a true Stark heir. Cat could not bear to look at him anymore lest she lose her temper.

Rickon is the youngest child in the family. Like Arya, he had Stark features. His hair was black and wild and his eyes were a lighter grey. Unfortunately, like Arya, he was an exceptionally wild child. Some of the guards in hushed whispers had described him as being feral. They had promptly been kicked out and relegated to duties in Wintertown. Even at only three namedays, Rickon was a bright and cheerful child. His personality had yet to really be defined, but his behavior indicated that he might have much of what Ned called the "Wild Wolf" in him. The term was familiar to Cat. Her original betrothed, Ned's older brother, Brandon Stark had also been called a "Wild Wolf." She had met Brandon at the infamous tourney at Harrenhal, and the descriptor was more than accurate. Whether or not the term boded well for Rickon however remained to be seen. That is until the toddler flung whatever paste he was eating at Arya which sparked a reaction of mock outrage from the girl. Cat just internally groaned.

Sansa. Sansa was the perfect lady and was Cat's spitting image. She had long auburn hair and baby blue eyes that sparkled with delight. Kind and proper, Cat just knew that she would be a great lady and the perfect wife. Her voice was sweet like a bird. It was a personal point of pride for Cat that Sansa was a better singer than she was. Tales of heroic knights and kings enraptured the second eldest Stark child. It did however make her seem to be all too naïve which Cat made a mental note to assist with so the world would not spring too many surprises on her prim and proper daughter. Sansa cut away at her fish calmly, savoring her meal in a way the others present were not.

Cat was brought out of her musings when the guard Bruce returned to the great hall.

"Your Lord husband is not in his solar my lady."

"Is there any indication where he is?" Cat responded.

"The guards say he was last seen exiting the solar headed to the godswood," was his answer, "That was two hours ago."

"I see."

"Father!" Arya yelled as she leapt to her feet and sprinted across the room into the warm embrace of Ned's arms as he entered through a small door that lead outside.

Ned chuckled as he picked Arya up and twirled her in the air to the child's delight. Setting her down with a huge grin on his face, Ned walked over to the table ready to eat.

His face was tired and his eyes were almost in shock, but the smile never left his face as he looked upon his children. Giving Cat a quick peck on the cheek, he sat next to her as a freshly roasted fish was served to his platter.

Idly, Cat asked, "Where were you?"

Ned paused for a moment before taking a bite and looked into Cat's eyes contemplative, as though he was weighing whether or not to say something of substance. He finished chewing as he came to the answer of whatever internal question he was asking.

"I had something of a vision."

Cat's face became one of confusion, but before she could put her thoughts to spoken words, Ned continued completely straight faced.

"I watched as a ten tailed beast the size of a mountain fought an army on plains of shattered grey rock before I witnessed a man sized but no less threatening monster point at me and laugh having found men wanting. There was also what I can only assume to be a malevolent rabbit goddess who lived on the moon."

Cat's brain stopped working. Saying nothing she instead opted to eat her own meal hastily ignoring the mushrooms on her platter. She had an appointment in the kitchens to make.

XXXXX

Jon Snow watched as Lady Stark got up from the high table and stormed to the kitchen. Jon ignored it seeing as he was not the current target of her wrath and continued to happily munch on his fish. He was rudely interrupted from his meal when he heard her voice raised as she berated the kitchen staff.

"No more mushrooms!"

One of the cooks squawked indignantly, "What?"

"No more mushrooms!"

Lord Stark at the high table rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Jon looked at Robb with his eyes full of confusion. The boys shrugged and resumed eating.

XXXXX

Author's Note: I'll try to keep this brief as my original notes here were longer than the chapter itself. The idea for this story came to me as I was on a hike in a small river valley about 20 minutes from my home. I thought about what Lannister and Baratheon guards would be thinking as they escorted King Bobby B through thick forest only to end up outside the walls of Konoha. As I started drafting the story, my thoughts drifted to what would lead such a royal visit to Konoha. The result was that I needed to have the village be somewhere else. There is a subgenre of Naruto fics that involve him going west of the land of wind and often becoming emperor or something to that effect. For this to be, I needed the entire village to migrate west. In such fics, the premise is often based on Naruto being banished from the village. This led to a wonderful idea where I could take both concepts and fuse it into something I've never seen written or even discussed before. My logic is that, if Naruto were to be banished, than his friends would not stand for it, and instead remain by his side. In short, the effort to punish Naruto would fail entirely. Of course now I need a reason to move Konoha somewhere else. That is for another chapter however which is currently in the works. Otherwise, I shall cut it there so as to avoid spoiling the story.

In any event, thanks for reading and I hope to see all of you lovely people soon.