Author's Note: Last chapter of the arc. This chapter contains the part which for months I simply could not get past. It was an essential sequence and for whatever reason it just wanted to make life incredibly difficult. I rewrote it at least four times, maybe five. But enough about my suffering.

Reminder that posting will resume once the upcoming arc is complete or mostly complete. As it exists now, it is mostly planned. Currently it's set up to be more episodic in nature and these "episodes" are akin to mini arcs. Given the length planned for the arc, these mini arcs will be posted once completed.

On with the reading!

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Chapter 8: Cultural Learnings of Stone Tablet and Bear Island for Make Benefit Glorious House of Stark

XXXXX

When Ned and Sansa opened their eyes, they slowly turned their heads to face each other.

"Was that a religious experience? Does that happen every time you pray to the old gods? What did you-

"Sansa, slow down there."

She supposed that she could do that. She was just so excited and wanted to find the hidden object in the tunnel beneath the first keep. It was only then that she noticed just how hard she was breathing.

Ned watched as she visibly calmed down, but the glee on her face never left.

"Now, am I to assume then that you experienced a green dream? A vision?" he asked.

"A vision? Yes. Yes I suppose so."

Her father nodded. His brow furrowed in concentration as he brought a hand to cup his chin. After a moment, he nodded to himself and fixed Sansa with an authoritative gaze.

"I want you to return to your chambers and write down what you witnessed. Leave out no details daughter."

Sansa nodded, "I will do that father."

"Good. See me in my solar when you have written all you can remember."

He looked to the sky.

"Best return to the keep now, we wouldn't want to worry your mother now would we?" he quipped.

Sansa only nodded. Ned got to his feet and extended a hand to her. She took it.

Upon entering her chambers, she wrote everything as fast as she could. In half an hour, she was done. Paper in hand, she made her way to the solar.

Ned was corking his ink pot when she entered without knocking. She was practically bouncing on her feet as she put the paper on the desk. A wry smile made its way onto Ned's face.

Pushing his own writings to the side, he read his way through Sansa's account. His eyes widened slightly near the end, no doubt having reached the part about the brick. He grunted softly before setting it down.

"Treasure behind a wall?"

"Yes!"

"Eh, what the hell? I have nothing better to do today."

They departed for the first keep, but not before snagging Jon, Robb, Theon, and Jory to accompany them.

Sansa could scarcely contain her excitement. That much was clear to Jon and Robb at least.

"So what exactly are we doing my lord?" Theon asked.

"We are venturing into the tunnel beneath the first keep."

"Oh."

"And why is our sister coming with us?" Robb queried.

"She is the one who brought this to my attention. And I think I speak for all of us when I say we needed a distraction after the events of this morning."

Sansa glowered at Robb sending a chill up his spine. Jon laughed at the copper haired heir's expense.

"Such children," Jory muttered.

The tower was unused for who knows how many years. Old mementos, forgotten trinkets, and rotting furniture scattered around the place, but never did it give off an air of being unsafe.

Down four flights of stairs and into the tunnel to the spring the group went. They brought torches with them to light the way, since unlike in Sansa's vision none of the sconces had been used in ages.

Sansa slightly ahead of everyone else led the way. It took only a minute or so for her to find the stone brick.

"This is it!" she exclaimed.

Theon looked around for a bit, "What, the wall?"

Sansa rolled her eyes. Theon felt vaguely insulted.

As the younger members of the group squabbled among themselves, Ned started to feel around the wall. As Sansa had written, it was altogether sturdy and rather unlikely to come down on their heads should the one brick be removed. Thus it was with little reluctance that he grabbed the brick and smoothly pulled it out before putting it in Sansa's hands without so much as a word.

Her expression was confused until she realized what exactly she was holding. She went to stick her nose into the hole in the wall, but her father's torch was already there, testing for traps, however unlikely that possibility was.

"What can you see my lord?" Jory asked.

"A cave by the look of it. All the stone beyond is natural. No man has carved it."

Theon, Robb, and Jon had all shut up by then, eyes bulging that apparently there was a secret behind the tunnel's wall.

The men got to work carefully removing the bricks that remained until there was space enough for a man to pass through sideways. They would shore it up before any serious investigation so as to prevent a cave in. For now though with their objective being to just poke their heads in, such precautions were unneeded.

Jory took the lead at that point. With a torch in his hand, he passed through the gap they made and into the cave. Theon went next, followed by Robb, and then Ned with Sansa as Jon took up the rear.

It was a small chamber, quite cozy honestly. A shaft of white light from above provided ample illumination. Robb, perhaps foolishly looked up into the light with squinted eyes and a curious face.

"Where do you suppose that goes up to?"

"Potentially anywhere," Jon said.

"Were I to hazard a guess, I'd say this comes down from just north of the broken tower," Ned remarked.

Sansa couldn't care less about where the light came from. Her attention was devoted entirely to the stone tablet that sat bathed in the light which somehow evaded the notice of everyone.

"Well Sansa, you were right, there was a secret to be discovered here," her father proudly preached.

His eyes found those of his daughter. With a wordless point, she directed his attention to the real prize. It was at that point everyone started talking all at once and no one could tell who said what.

"What is that?"

"Inscriptions on a stone stupid."

"But what are those symbols? The old tongue? The language of the first men?"

"Maester Luwin might know."

"Just how ancient is this place?"

"Why was this sealed up?"

"This place is cursed! We should never have come here!"

"Oh do calm yourself."

"Drowned God take you all!"

"Silence," Eddard whispered.

At his word, the inane and somewhat hysterical chatter ceased. Their eyes never left the stone tablet.

XXXXX

"It appears there are two very distinct sets of writing on here my lord," Maester Luwin said.

"Distinct as in they are different tongues?" the Lord of Winterfell asked.

"As best as I can tell."

The inscriptions on the tablet were traced onto paper and taken to the maester's turret for analysis. Sansa would have been there with her father and the maester, but after having spent the day ignoring her mother since the execution, she was practically kidnapped by the woman.

"Well, you were right about at least some of this being a dialect of the first men. These here at the top are among the most ancient form of writing that exists in all of Westeros. It will take time, but I believe I can decipher this," Maester Luwin admitted.

"And the symbols at the bottom?"

"They bear a similarity to the writing of Yi Ti my lord, but I can tell you right now that this is a form I have never seen before. Given just how old this tablet was, I would not be surprised to learn it is a dead tongue. We simply may never know what it says."

"A shame. I know that we would all love to unravel this mystery."

Luwin nodded in agreement, "Still, I cannot help but wonder why such a form of writing would be here, and for so long no less. I may need to consult the works of Maester Yandel. He knows more of the realm, Yi Ti, and the world at large than anyone else I know. He's currently writing a book on the known history of the world. I understand he is almost finished with his initial drafts."

"Regardless of how much you must consult your colleagues, all I ask Luwin is that when you are able let me know when you are done translating. I am quite anxious to learn of my forebears as is Sansa once Cat lets her free."

The maester laughed.

It was about a fortnight later when writings from Maester Luwin found their way onto the desk in Ned's solar. The man said that he'd let Ned read them himself rather than just tell him what it said. Luwin had put in the considerable effort to make the words read like modern writings, something Ned appreciated tremendously. A note at the top informed him that there was a significant number of what Luwin assumed were names that he was unable to translate. The maester had marked them when they came up. Ned began to read.

My sons, I carve this now in hopes that you will find it and not come to blows. You will find these tablets are scattered across the world so that even if you venture far from home, no matter what tongue you choose to speak, my words will still find you.

Your father, (untranslatable symbols, presumably a name).

Color Ned intrigued. He had not expected that there would be more tablets around the world. The Citadel would be champing at the bit for such ancient artifacts. He would have Luwin send these findings to the Order of the Maesters. The tablet however would stay where it is. He continued to read.

I do not often speak of my life. Much of it has been little but pain. I have had no wish to burden either of you with such things. In the light of your most recent disagreement, I knew only shame. I have created this rift between you two and that shall more than anything be my greatest regret. Consider this both a lesson and a father's apology to the greatest joys that have ever happened to him.

My conflict with the (a different untranslatable symbol, presumably a name) left the world in ruins. It also planted the spark of conflict in the people that (a different untranslatable symbol, presumably a name) had controlled with the use of the (a different untranslatable symbol, presumably a name). To this end, I sought to show people that conflict was unnecessary. (A different untranslatable symbol, presumably a name) was my method to help the people of the world connect and bond.

It was not much text, but there was much to be learned from its brief contents. There were five different symbols Luwin could not translate. What they were likely would only be useful to scholars.

A regretful father with a considerable reach had somehow sowed discontent in his sons, and intended to repair the relationship by alluding to an unknown war and his actions that followed. Clearly, he hated conflict, else the man would not have put his faith in a way to somehow help people bond. What the conflict was and its solution has likely been lost to time. At least, that was what Ned believed from his first impressions. That and the names of people and events long, long ago. It was rather irksome, but Ned would not find fault in Luwin for being unable to translate them given all that he accomplished.

There was a knock on the door interrupting his thoughts.

"My lord, there is a message from Bear Island," Vayon said.

"Bring it in please."

After reading Maege Mormont's words, Ned was relieved. Looks like Sansa and Arya would be getting their lessons sooner than expected. The only downside was that he would be the one who needed to tell Cat. That was not a conversation he looked forward to having.

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Sansa liked Bear Island. Arya loved it. Theon hated it.

That was what Ned gathered from the reactions of his daughters and ward. It had been a somewhat controversial decision to bring the Greyjoy there, but Ned's logic had managed to persuade the stubborn Mormont matriarch.

"Mayhaps the little kraken will learn what it is to be on the other side of the raid," had been her words of acceptance.

It had been slightly over a year since they had arrived. They had of course made a couple trips back to Winterfell so Cat wouldn't go mad and Ned could attend to whatever duties he otherwise could not on Bear Island.

Ned for the most part maintained a respectful distance from his daughter's lessons. Instead, he had been surveying much of the island's coastline and seeing what if anything could be done to dissuade "pirate" raids.

Pirates. That was the official stance of the Iron Islands when it came to those who murdered, raped, and plundered under no banner yet sailed on long ships. They could not possibly be ironmen following their lords seeking fortune from lands more plentiful than their own. Ned's sneer was uncharacteristic when he had learned of that back when he was Jon Arryn's ward.

He would call it like it was. They were ironborn and nothing short of seeing a miracle would convince him otherwise.

The Mormont's were not a wealthy house. Between the lack of natural resources on Bear Island, the repeated raids, and the climate this far north, they were not able to accumulate much in terms of material wealth and raw resources. What they did have, they used wisely. Most every precaution Ned thought they could take was something they had already done. Watchtowers, small redoubts, and village walls dotted the coasts. Ned had managed to find a couple places where improvements could be made, among which some were much needed repairs to the walls of the keep and improvements to the mounts for the harbor chain. Previous raids had heavily damaged them.

So it was with those few changes either complete or actively underway, Ned found himself in the rare position of actually observing Sansa and Arya with their tutors.

Maege's first daughter Dacey had snatched up Sansa in an instant. As comfortable with a morningstar on the field of battle as she was in a dress on the dance floor and looking totally natural in either, she was the perfect choice for Sansa from whom to learn. Sansa's friendship with Dacey brought warmth to Ned. He had been afraid that after the attacks Sansa had suffered, she would be damaged in an all too permanent way. His worries were undone with Dacey there, and Sansa was beginning to heal. That was something, Ned as her father was not able to provide to his eldest daughter.

Arya was paired with the second daughter of Maege, Alysane. Ned thought that Dacey and Sansa were meant for each other. Then he saw Arya with Alysane and came to the conclusion that the older daughter's bonds could not compare. Arya was growing so much as a lady and fighter that Ned honestly felt guilty having deprived her of this for so long. She and Alysane were mischievous in ways that should keep him up at night. So tight was their bond that he was thinking about proposing to host Alysane and her children so Arya would not need to part with her once the existing arrangement had run its course.

Theon did not have a dedicated trainer. He was not there to learn about fighting and battle. Ned's goal with him was to turn him into the next Quellon Greyjoy, a man who sought better relations with the seven kingdoms and was totally against the blight that was the old way of the ironborn. To that end, Theon needed to learn about suffering raid's caused from those who experienced them. This would teach him humility, Ned hoped. Suffice it to say, Theon was not really enjoying himself. All the tales of widows, widowers, orphans, and all others who had been left behind in the wake of such attacks were taking their toll on Balon's heir.

The clang of blunted steel wrenched Ned from his musings. Sansa was swinging at Dacey's shield with the axe she had come to so favor. Her height and long willowy limbs were providing her with advantages that had come as something of a surprise to Ned. He had never once thought that Sansa might be the better fighter than Arya, as his youngest daughter could yet unveil some surprise that would send them all onto their asses.

Sansa and Arya both had strengthened considerably since their arrival. The first thing the Mormont's had done was subject the pair to an exercise regimen to build up their strength and endurance. Both had gone in with heads held high and come out severely humbled. Humbled, sore, and bruised. Six moons of running, weight lifting, swimming, and other forms of exercise had taken place before they were even allowed to touch a blade. Ned held no sympathy for them having had to do the same when he fostered for Jon Arryn. Robert, magnificently strong and tough as he was had once wept in pain when it was just the two of them alone. Ned had no idea how Sansa and Arya were handling it all so well by comparison.

"Ow!" Sansa wheezed as Dacey sent her into the dirt for the tenth time in as many minutes.

The Mormont heir was going very easy on Sansa, but the improvement remained apparent to Ned's eyes. Sansa continued to simply get back up and give it another go. Both she and Arya were unwilling to give up, and it was that stubbornness which made him the most proud.

Dacey bull rushed Sansa and their shields collided, but neither fell. Sansa's footing however had taken a hit and Dacey's swing of the morningstar to Sansa's shield put her on her back. Sansa merely stood back up and went for another go. This time Sansa attempted to use the hooked axe head to pull Dacey's shield away. Dacey's grip was too strong however and the shield refused to betray its mistress.

"Clever Lady Sansa," Dacey commended of her student, "You have discovered why Bear Island axes have that hooked head."

"Ironborn use shields that much?" Sansa asked panting, drenched in sweat and caked in dirt.

"The only ones who don't are using two handed weapons or bows."

Sansa launched herself forward. Shield met axe. Morningstar countered, but was evaded. Shield bash, overhead axe swing, ringing in the ears and Dacey was on the ground.

The Mormont shook her head and beamed at Sansa. Ned watched as Sansa's jaw dropped. It seemed she could scarcely believe what she had done. She chose that moment to leap into the air, shoulder length red hair flowing with the jump and the wind. The little celebration made it all the more hilarious when Ned watched Dacey tackle Sansa with a cheeky smile and bring her morningstar to his daughter's throat pressing down lightly. Sansa grumbled and conceded defeat to her tutor.

Ned cast his eyes to Arya and Alysane. Arya favored a slender one-handed sword suited more to poking holes in things than lopping off limbs. The little blade suited her, matching her light frame that was all too like Lyanna in moments like this. Alysane was guiding Arya through some basic moves, correcting footwork and the angle of the sword as needed. Balls of clay set up on small wooden stands with a ring in front were apparently teaching her accuracy with her thrusts. Ned had never heard of such a training method, but apparently it was working. The mud would break apart if stabbed and the rings would move if they were hit forcing control in each attack Arya made. Ned supposed that was intended to simulate hitting a joint or other weak point in a set of plate armor.

It's the simple things in life you treasure. As a father, watching one's children grow up and become the best possible versions of themselves was a thing both beautiful and tragic. Children do not remain children forever after all. Ned's daughters were growing up before his eyes he realized. Tears of both sadness and joy pricked at the corners of his eyes. In moments like this, Ned was happy. Truly happy.

Sansa spat out a tooth.

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It was weeks later that Sansa experienced what she would later describe as a significant emotional event.

It was a motley crew that ventured out to the wild coast of Bear Island for a spot of fishing. It did not require a great distance from the Mormont seat to be considered "wild". In this instance, they were little more than a mile away.

Sansa, Dacey, Ned, Maege, and a pair of guards composed the group. Arya and Alysane remained at Mormont Keep with Alysane's two children. Arya was getting along very well with her eldest to Ned's delight. Theon also was at the keep, though he stayed because he was partaking in the celebrations of the name day of his new friend, a grumpy old fisherman by the name of Brackman. That was something that had seemingly come out of nowhere and caught everyone by surprise.

Dacey was showing Sansa how to thread the lure onto the fishing line, though Sansa's extensive experience sewing meant that she ended up helping Dacey instead. The older girl took it in good spirits.

Sansa's smile never quite reached her ears. She was sad, as were the rest of the Stark party. In a fortnight, they would be leaving Bear Island for good. Sansa would try and make the best of it though. She would never forget the bonds she forged or the skills she learned here. Sappy yes, but fruitful.

"Thought the lads weren't supposed to be back for another week," the Stark guard commented.

"How do you mean?" the Mormont guard asked.

"Boats on approach."

Maege's eyes narrowed the moment their brief exchange began. Bringing her line to her waist, she swiveled her head to look at the sea.

"Those ain't our crab boats. Ironborn!" she bellowed, "Longships will be making landfall in a few minutes!"

Dacey snarled. Sansa's expression turned to stone.

"We make for the keep," Ned ordered calmly.

The mile long trek did not take long. To their luck, the raiders had landed on the opposite side of the bay.

As the group approached town, the raid was in full swing. Fires burned from the docks to the center of town. Screams pierced through the air as a foul voice on the wind. A guard on the town wall posted to warn of any potential flanking maneuver saw their approach.

"Lady Mormont and Lord Stark have returned!" he calmly informed the men near him so as to not alert any potential ironborn nearby.

Maege sprinted to the guard like the greatest of runners with sword and shield in hand. Her deep breathing was calm as she interrogated the poor man. Ned, unwilling to abandon Sansa did not join Maege. He was certain she would tell them any relevant information.

She most certainly did.

"They tore down the harbor chain and landed two longships inside the town wall. And bugger me, but I know the little beach they used. Anyway, those ones opened the town gates for all the others to pour in. Luckily I suppose, these cunts are here for what we have in the keep. They're largely ignoring the docks and the town."

"Easier to contain a concentrated force of them I suppose," Ned commented, "Trap them against the castle wall if we can."

Maege nodded, "Simple and without major weaknesses. Let's purge these cretins."

If only they remembered.

Maege ran off with her guard to rally the soldiers. It was agreed that Ned would bring the rest of their fellowship to the keep if possible, or make for a nearby village if they could not. There were likely not enough ironborn to threaten both of the castle's gatehouses.

Ned managed to poach five more Mormont men to help with the escort. More would be preferable, but he was not about to complain.

The walk back to the keep was slow and methodical. Wind coming from the sea blanketed the town in a dense layer of smoke, dust, and fog. It had been sudden and without warning forcing them to slow their pace. Ned and the guards were all on edge. A sufficiently patient ironborn could lurk around the corner of a house and ambush them with great success. A small group of ironborn would be a death sentence.

The clash of steel, the wailing of the injured, and the war cries of the fighters echoed between the wood and thatch buildings like ghosts. New sounds would burst from an alley after bouncing around. Other sounds still would suddenly silence as Ned and the others passed a structure and around a street corner. Eerie did not even begin to describe it.

Ned while keeping a lookout constantly glanced at Sansa as though to reassure himself that she had not simply vanished as fast as the fog had arrived. His heart pounded fiercely within his chest. If she were to come into danger… well, he could scarcely think about it.

Sansa dearly wished for her axe and shield. The dagger in her hands felt weightless, and not in the good way. She came to loathe this feeling of helplessness that sought to overwhelm her. Involuntary shivers coursed down her spine and throughout her body as they slowly grew closer to the keep.

As they trekked forward, they discovered their first corpse. The ironborn had his throat pierced by something and he had fallen onto his back. Dead dark and beady eyes looked into the sky in surprise. His iron breastplate glistened faintly in the light of a burning house. An extinguished torch inches away from his relaxed hand revealed the fire's cause.

Their situation became very serious in that moment. Enemy fighters were almost certainly close by. Silence was of the utmost priority, lest the group wish to die by a pirate raider's blade.

Another burning building glowed before their eyes, its wooden supports crafting a haunting visage in the thick fog. The smoke rose slightly only to be caught by the wet air. The taste of burned wood lingered on their tongues, but they did not speak. Eyes began to sting, but the only thing that escaped was irritated tears.

Screams and cries were louder and more numerous now.

"Here we stand!"

The Mormont forces appeared to be winning. It brought some comfort, but they could not afford to get cocky. The keep was visible, and falling so close to their destination would be rather… inconvenient.

"Here we stand!"

That call was close. Very close. They should be near the north gate. The pace quickened, but only slightly.

A gust of wind blew through the town lifting some of the fog. A small group of ironborn with their backs to the party crept closer to the gate. Ned signaled that everyone stop before gesturing to a wooden fence that bordered a small garden nearby the keep. The herbs had been pillaged and upon inspection could be seen lining the ironborn's pockets.

Ned peeked over the fence and was greeted with the sight of Mormont men rushing to meet the ironborn's blades. He looked at Sansa again before making his mind up.

"Three of you with me, the rest of you should be ready to run for the gate," he ordered.

Two spearmen and a giant man with a two handed axe joined the Lord Stark as he drew his own sword as they made to flank the raiders.

Sansa could not bear to watch and possibly see her father fall, so she remained kneeling behind the fence as the ringing of steel bombarded her ears. Her father roared something she could not understand and the fighting only grew more terrible.

It was maybe thirty seconds after he had attacked that Sansa heard some of the most beautiful words she would ever hear.

"Here we stand!"

"Winter is coming!"

"Hail Lord Stark!"

Sansa stood up and looked her father in the eyes. His sword dripped blood and there was a splash of dirt and mud on his tunic, but he appeared otherwise just as he had left her.

The gate opened and welcomed Ned's party through before shutting as quickly as it could. The sounds of violence echoed from outside the wooden walls of the keep. Ned took a moment to hug Sansa tightly. She sank into his arms relieved they had made it to relative safety.

The moment couldn't last however. Injured men numbering about ten lay in varying states of agony. Five others were no longer among the living.

"How goes the defense!" Ned requested.

"My lord, the ironborn are doing their best to breach the keep's walls. They're getting very desperate. Lady Mormont has a large contingent of infantry pressuring their rear line," a sergeant of the guard reported.

"Then we must ensure these scum do not succeed. How many men are in reserve?"

"We have everyone we can on the walls save those guarding the children and the gravely injured my lord. I've been tending to them my lord." It seemed to be true. The man's hands were covered in blood and a number of bloodied bandages lay discarded on the ground.

"They can remain here then-

From the walls on the southern end of the keep came the iron voice of Theon, "We have a breach! Raiders in the castle!"

Dacey cursed, "The section of wall being rebuilt!"

The timing was rather poor, or terribly convenient depending from whose perspective you looked at it. Ned's eyes narrowed. Was this raid timed to take advantage of the castle's weakness?

Ned could not afford to dwell on it just yet, so he pivoted to look at Sansa before saying, "Stay safe. Find Arya."

She nodded.

"Everyone!" Eddard Stark thundered, "With me! Plug the gap!"

Three of the injured men managed to get to their feet and hobbled after Ned and those he took with him, Dacey and the sergeant included.

Much as Sansa would honor her father's command to go find Arya, she was not about to do so without her axe and shield while ironborn could be inside the walls. Provided they had not been requisitioned by someone called to defend the wall, they would be in the armory next to the keep's storeroom. She sprinted for the closest door to the keep's interior both hoping it was and was not barred.

The door was not barred she found. She knew there could be ironborn in the halls. She barred the door behind her before continuing on to the armory.

Sansa navigated a side passage and practically flew down the stairs into the keep's basement. She rounded a pair of corners before arriving at the armory. Her smile grew as she grabbed the axe and shield off the rack where she had previously left them before hefting them into a defensive position. She exited the armory with much less speed than she had entered. The need to get to Arya was important, but it wouldn't do if she tripped and broke her arm on the shield or some nonsense like that.

Up the stairs, into the side passage, and up another flight of stairs to the second level would see Sansa to the room she shared with Arya. Their initial round of packing up for the journey home left the room looking rather spartan. It also meant that the only real place to hide was under the bed. Arya was not there.

"Shit," Sansa mumbled worried.

Where was her sister? With Alysane almost certainly, but then where would she be?

Sansa took a moment to think.

She settled on investigating the nursery and proceeded rapidly. It did not take more than twenty seconds. The nursery was down the passage and around the corner near the balcony. She did not expect to see Theon with a group of Mormont archers on the balcony loosing arrows into the bailey.

"Theon!"

The young man turned around and retreated behind the crenulation.

"Sansa, what are you doing? Get back inside!" he said.

"Where are Arya and Alysane?"

"With the rest of the children in the basement guardroom. Hurry there now!" he pleaded before his eyes widened, "Behind you!"

Sansa pivoted instantly bringing her shield to bear. An ironborn in plate armor with an arming sword would have been seconds away from getting her had it not been for Theon's warning, and whose arrow whistled past and struck the pirate in the helmetless skull.

"Raiders in the keep!" Theon bellowed, "Raiders in the keep! Three of you, with me! We need to clear out the castle, room by room! Lady Stark, behind us."

Sansa did not question his command. She kept pace with her four "guardians", axe and shield at the ready. Already, Theon had claimed another ironborn and his men, two others. Each room they passed, they entered and cleared to minimize the chance of being flanked. Unfortunately with two stairwells leading into the second and third floors of the castle, the chance remained a possibility.

They reached the stairs where they were faced with a choice: to go up or to go down. Going up would maximize their chances of ensuring they were not flanked, but that also meant potentially leaving the doors of the keep's interior wide open for more ironborn to enter. Theon chose to go down.

Sansa's steps as she went down the stairs were measured, but never hesitant. Theon and the archers slew another pirate. They entered the side passage and poked their heads into the main hall when they passed by an arch. Mormont and Stark soldiers outnumbered the raiders considerably, but the chaotic melee was leaving many men and women dead and dying.

Ned had swapped his short sword for Ice at some point while he was away. The blade howled in the air as it came down on an impressively well armored ironborn, one of the raid's leaders probably. Another man similarly armored roared in anguish. His brother perhaps? It mattered not. Ned swung Ice again and decapitated a different attacker before smashing the swords pommel into the "brothers" face who dropped like a trebuchet's counterweight bleeding from the nose and mouth.

Theon and the archers loosed a few arrows into targets of opportunity. Sansa kept her pretty little head on a swivel. She remained surprisingly calm, but her lips were pressed together frighteningly tight. No more than two minutes elapsed before every ironborn in the hall was either dead or captured.

"Here we stand!"

"Winter is coming!"

"Sansa!"

"Father!"

The Starks converged.

"Where is your sister?" Ned asked.

"Guardroom below Lord Stark," Theon answered for her.

"Theon, you are safe. Are you hurt?" Ned prodded his ward.

"No, my Lord. Could go for some food though."

A low chuckle emerged from Ned's lips, "Couldn't we all? Men! Secure the rest of the keep! I need several of you with me to clear the basement!"

Numerous voices sounded out affirmations that his orders would be followed.

"Theon, is there anywhere we know these creatures are not?"

"By your side my lord. The staircases allow for them to move about as they please. They could still be anywhere else in the castle."

Ned sighed. He would take Sansa to the guardroom and hope nothing exciting happened along the way. He would not risk sending her back outside where ironborn stragglers were being rounded up.

"Sansa, stay by me."

"Yes father."

They could have been physically attached given how close to Ned Sansa stayed. Their group entered the side passage and went down the stairs. Echoes of violence came from both in front of them and upstairs in the rest of the keep. Ironborn still lurked within the walls.

Admittedly, lurked might be a bit strong of a word considering there were around ten panicked looking raiders trying to bash down the wooden wall to, escape? The ironborn must not be familiar with losing if they were so scared. It really didn't matter if their minds were all there. Ned left Theon and a couple others to tend to Sansa as he led the rest of the men and women to batter the ironborn to death. He made a crucial error however. He did not clear the room he passed by, the door to which Theon and Sansa were standing next to.

Theon's eyes narrowed. His instincts were the only thing that prevented him from being skewered. The Mormont man beside him was not so lucky.

"Ambush!" he cried.

Five more ironborn burst out of the room Ned had ignored. The basement corridors were tight at the best of times. In full armor with weapons in hand, it was difficult to turn around without smashing the nearest man in the face. Theon was separated from Sansa, and the guards closest to her were unable to bring their weapons to bear without hitting her.

The heir to the Iron Islands butchered three of the ambushers through what might charitably be described as brute force and ignorance.

Sansa's shield saved her life. She brought it to bear in front of her in time to catch the swing of a maul. The force pushed her back into the guards which only furthered the confusion of the fight. The maul hit her shield again. This time, Sansa pushed back and made the unarmored ironborn stumble. She did not have room to swing her axe, but it did have a spike on top.

Sansa thrust the spike forward over the top of her shield. It punctured the man's neck before he could recover from his tumble.

The last ironborn panicked as he tried to bulrush past Sansa and the guards in an attempt to escape.

Theon struggled to get out from underneath the corpses he made trying to save the life of his foster father's daughter. The guards were still just as likely to strike Sansa as they were the ironborn if they tried to help.

Sansa roared. She smashed the shield into the man. Blood erupted from his nose and he retreated back into the room. The wolf's blood was flowing again and she followed the ironborn. Crashing through the door, she shield bashed the man again. Now she had room to work with.

He tried to strike with his own axe, but she parried the blow and knocked it from his hands.

The guards behind Sansa entered in time to see her push the ironborn to the ground with her shield and bring her axe down into his sternum. The man's wheezes were wet and desperate as he perished.

Theon entered covered in blood that was not his own. He looked at her handiwork for a moment before he gave her a tired, lopsided grin.

"Nice kill."

"Thanks," she said kicking the cadaver, "I thought that would be harder. How's Brackman?"

"Grumpy bastard is fine. Said if he were ten years younger…"

Ned had finished with the ironborn he had engaged and poked his head inside the room after having checked on Arya and the rest of the children. They were fine. The image of his once perfect lady of a daughter posing with a bloody axe and accompanying corpse would remain one of the most proud and exasperated moments he'd ever experienced.

Cat might actually kill him this time.

XXXXX

"Welcome back my lord," Catelyn Stark greeted her husband.

"It is good to be back my lady," Ned said gratefully.

The pleasantries were quick and to the point. Arya dragged Alysane off to meet the rest of her siblings.

Ned led Cat, Sansa, and Theon to his solar. It was going to be a long talk.

As they walked, Cat looked at her eldest daughter. In Sansa's youth, she had been tall and willowy. She had worn her hair long in impressive braids and favored southern style dresses. Now, her height remained, but she was no longer slender and lithe. Her substantial muscle was unseemly on a southern lady. She wore the drab northern dresses. Her hair was kept shoulder length and had only simple braids when she wasn't wearing it loose. Just when had she lost her perfect lady of a daughter? Cat supposed she should be grateful. Just one of her experiences would be enough for a lifetime, but to have three so close together? It was unthinkable. Still, Sansa was alive. She could only pray that she lived a healthy and hearty life.

Cat brought her mind back to the solar. Theon was talking, fuming really.

"To think my father glorified such things." His laugh was humorless.

If nothing else, the raid had killed any ironborn romanticism Theon once held. Second coming of Quellon Greyjoy most definitely.

Cat really need not have been so focused. There was nothing said here that she did not already know.

She remained quite cross with Ned. Really, she knew that it was not his fault. She would forgive him, as she always did. Still, there was a certain degree of fun to be had for letting him sweat a little. What mattered is that her family was here. They were safe. With any luck, the gods old and new would stamp out any upcoming "adventures". All she could do was pray.

Days later saw Cat watching Robb and Sansa in the yard. When Sansa used her axe to hook Robb's shield and use the advantage to send him into the dirt, she knew that even though things were no longer the same, they would be alright.

Seeing Jon Snow look and act so nervous around Sansa as though she would maul him at the slightest provocation was just a sweet morsel on top.

XXXXX

They called this a castle? It appeared more like a walled city. The acreage alone would qualify it as a city in their neck of the woods. Seriously, the thing looked like it could comfortably house up to ten thousand souls within. For a major battle, they might be able to get away with around a hundred thousand men on the walls if there was one soldier for every square meter of wall and battlement. It might last around two days before the logistical situation inside the castle imploded in a most glorious fashion, but it could be done. Then again, everything they had encountered up until this point seemed to be designed by the philosophy of bigger is better. It made for pretty spectacular viewing if anything.

The gargantuan concentric castle had two large granite walls lined by at least thirty octagonal towers with guard turrets that formed the barrier between the outside world and the castle complex. The first was some 24.3 meters high. A moat sat between the walls. The second wall must have been 30.5 meters tall, but who knows what its actual height might be when considering just how deep the moat was. He never really considered himself to be scared of heights, but it was still a long fall down into the dirt below.

As the pair crossed the twin draw bridges, they began to attract odd looks. Fair, he supposed. They were not dressed like locals. With a castle this big housing so many people, the gates in the walls were guarded mainly to capture contraband and fugitives. A cursory inspection would have been conducted had they not flashed their papers. That got them through modestly quick. It was a similar system to the walled cities back home.

The gates leading to the inner castle were much more vigorous in their security operations. The papers got the two of them most of the way there, but an inspection of their effects was inevitable. Even with an appointment, you were not allowed to bring just anything with you when you met such a vital figure of the local geopolitical sphere. Besides, it was essential to establish trust if they wanted to get what they needed. It was perhaps a bit uncharacteristic for those of their profession, but they had nothing to hide for once in their lives. It wasn't like they were expecting a knife in the back here anyway.

The search ended and the pair was allowed to enter the yard. A guard named Bruce had been assigned as their chaperon and guided them up the open air stairs, over the keep's own drawbridge, into the entry hall (hall of bloodshed if the murder holes were any indication), into the secondary entry hall (one that actually was meant to welcome visitors this time), through a door (that was unlocked for them and locked up after them), up a flight of stairs, through several winding corridors, up another flight of stairs, through another series of corridors, before finally informing them that they had reached their destination.

Bruce opened the door outside which they stood, ushered them in, and had them sit on some modest benches. He then knocked on a side door through which a man referred to as "steward" emerged. Once again, the pair displayed their papers. The man nodded in affirmation before marking something on his own set of papers. He then informed them that they would be seen by the head honcho (not his exact words) in a few minutes. That was fine. They were there a bit earlier than strictly necessary.

And hey, they got to sip at some wine provided to them by the steward's servant while they waited. Truly alcohol makes everything better (not really).

They waited.

They were called.

They were granted audience.

They walked in.

They bowed.

XXXXX

Sansa's opinion of her father had taken a hit. When he had asked her to assist him with one of his duties, she had been all too happy to do so. Now all she wanted to do was throttle him. They had been sitting in relative silence for about an hour at this point just going over paperwork speaking only when needed. Normally her mother would be doing this, but Cat had a fever and was reluctant to interact with anyone more than necessary.

The stacks of paper sitting on her father's desk had come up to his eyes. She was fairly certain that her own eyes had gone as big as the largest of the stacks when she spotted them.

Rather spontaneously deciding that her father could manage the rest on his own, she was about to tell him she was going outside to stretch her legs and destroy some poor dummy with her axe. Maybe after warming up on Alysane, she would go for the straw dummies. Either that or sock him across the mouth for this cruel and unusual punishment he was subjecting her to.

A knock rapped on the door wrenching the red-haired Stark girl from her thoughts. Oh thank the gods she restrained herself from muttering.

"Yes?" Eddard queried.

"It's time to begin receiving visitors my lord," Vayon responded.

Sansa barely heard her father breathe, "Oh right. Crap." Well then, the monster had feelings too, she thought amused a smirk adorning her face.

"Sansa sweetling, could you please move the papers to the other desk please?" Eddard asked of her looking at the stacks exasperated.

Do it yourself coward. "Yes father."

Sansa got up from her seat and grabbed the finished stack of paper indicating to her father that she would be putting them on the right side. He dipped his head at her in a nod of thanks.

"Send in the first in the queue Vayon," Eddard dictated.

The door to the solar opened. Vayon stood in the doorframe as he gestured to someone outside of eyesight.

"Yes, my lord. Presenting the fine gentlemen from Ass… Um, Assee… Ashiha… Fuck, how do you say that again?"

"Ashihara no Nakatsukuni mister Poole," answered a greatly amused young and heavily accented voice.

Vayon sighed very, very deeply with a slow fall of his head, "I'm never going to get that." He plastered on his polite face in an attempt to salvage what remained of his pride, "Of course. Presenting the fine gentlemen from very, very far away, Naruto Uzumaki and Jiraiya."

He seemingly nailed their names at least, Sansa thought as she placed the first of three in progress stacks of papers at the center of the desk. Vayon must be impossibly flustered if he was this crass while both her father and their guests were around. Doubtless Vayon would be reprimanded no matter how much her father might enjoy seeing him flounder.

Two men walked in.

The older man was very tall with white spikey hair that went down to his knees kept in a loose ponytail. Red lines, tattoos probably, began at his eyes and went down his face. A metal plate adorned his forehead with a strange symbol on it. He wore a green tunic of a kind she was unfamiliar with and green breeches with a red vest over them. A layer of mesh was visible beneath it all. Massive red wooden sandals adorned his feet. Oh, and he had a giant scroll on his back. As in the scroll was larger than Rickon, giant.

The second man had spikey hair so blonde it was almost yellow. Mischievous blue eyes shined brightly beneath a metal plate with a spiral like symbol on his forehead held in place by a long black headband. He wore a black and orange coat with equally orange breeches beneath a red and black cloak with sleeves. Like the other man, he also had a giant scroll hanging from his back. The last thing Sansa noticed were the whisker like marks on his cheeks. Were they also tattoos? She could not tell. She thought him a handsome fellow.

"Thank you Vayon," Eddard said before introducing himself, it was only polite after all, "Lord Eddard Stark. Welcome to Winterfell. I hope your journey has not been arduous."

Naruto, the blonde man chuckled, but not before he glanced at the other man, Jiraiya, with a knowing look.

"Thank you for seeing us Lord Stark," Jiraiya greeted.

The men bowed deeply at the waist. Eddard received the gesture well enough. Though she thought she noticed a strange look in his eyes, almost as though he recognized them. How curious. She thought better of it. They came from that ash place wherever that was, Essos probably. How could he possibly have known who they were?

Ned motioned for the pair to take a seat. The pair removed their scrolls and set them against the front of the desk Sansa continued to remove stacks of papers from.

"I must confess, I knew that I was receiving visitors from Essos today, but I have not heard of your home before now," Eddard said.

Sansa continued organizing the papers on the other desk as she listened in.

"We'd be more surprised if you had in all honesty, being east of Asshai you know," Naruto replied.

"East of Asshai by the Shadow?" Eddard asked intrigued masking that he was flabbergasted.

"Got a map?" Naruto quipped jovially.

Eddard nodded, "Vayon, the world map please? It should be on the ironwood table."

The steward of Winterfell nodded and grabbed the wood backed and framed map from where it lay setting it down on the desk before resuming his position by the door.

"City of the Winged Men?" Naruto whispered seemingly to himself as his eyes scoured the eastern edges of the map before them.

"You are familiar with it?" Eddard asked.

"That the place with the kites you think Jiraiya sensei?"

"Odds are. Unless you saw some other flying men and have not deigned to tell me apprentice of mine," Jiraiya ribbed good naturedly.

"Huh. Well Lord Stark, you will be disappointed to hear that the people who call that city home do not have wings. They just have kites carved to look like people. Shiroyama is what they call home."

Eddard wrote that down probably butchering the spelling having not asked, "Is this Sheeroyawmah close to your home?"

This time it was Jiraiya who was whispering, brow scrunched in concentration, "That's twelve hundred, each one is point six two one. Conversion means Gelel was sixteen three from there, which means, ok."

Sansa was unable to follow what the man just said. It must have been numbers. She was rubbish at numbers.

Jiraiya pointed to the mythical city of Carcosa, "If we move north to Mussovy here from Carcosa, you would go east about two thousand four hundred miles through cold, wintery, grey salt flats before reaching the middle country at large and the western sand dunes of Kaze no Kuni in particular. Erm, that translates as the Land of Wind. We ain't local Lord Stark is all I'll say."

Sansa finished moving the last stack of paper in time to pivot on the spot and have her jaw drop to the ground, "You are a long way from home."

"Understatement of the century," Naruto replied.

Eddard cleared his throat, "Indeed. This is my daughter Sansa. If you are finished dear, you can leave."

"Of course, father," Sansa said.

As she left the room, she could hear her father ask of their visitors from the other side of the world, "Enlightening as that was, and as much as I would enjoy learning of your homeland, might I suggest we get down to business. How can I help you today?"

Thirty three hundred miles east of Asshai by the Shadow if her numbers were even vaguely correct. Sansa giggled. She couldn't wait to tell her siblings. Surely her father would tell them some of what the foreigners regaled to him when they were all done. Who knows what kind of strange and beautiful civilizations must exist on that side of the world? To say nothing of the odd people there too.

XXXXX

"We are all of us gathered?" Pein asked of his second in command.

"We are still waiting on Zetsu," Konan answered.

She did not need to look at Pein to know he was growing impatient. That it was Zetsu who was late could only be further adding to his displeasure.

"Apologies Pein, we were delayed," said Black Zetsu as the black and white creature emerged from the ground.

"It was all for the cause though!" White Zetsu added chipper.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Pein thought. He said nothing for a moment, "I will permit this tardiness only once Zetsu. Do not make this a common occurrence," he growled, "Now then, what caused your delay?"

"Konoha exploded," Black Zetsu deadpanned.

The other members of the Akatsuki who until that point had watched with total disinterest went bug-eyed, though Deidara was far more gleeful than the others. It would have been one thing to say that Konoha had been attacked. They all knew Oto and Iwa had teamed up for a second assault on the village. But the word exploded implied something altogether more devastating.

Pein's eyes narrowed. What would Madara think of this? "Elaborate."

"There was a fire at their power plant. Something very, very hot apparently melted down and breached the village aquifer. We've never seen such a massive steam explosion before. The village is gone without a trace." Black Zetsu informed.

"Well, one thing survived," added White Zetsu.

"The jinchuriki?" Konan asked.

Zetsu pulled a wrapped cloak from the ground and unraveled it. The barely living and rather red Orochimaru was contained within. One did not need the slightest hint of medical knowledge to know that the snake like man would not survive beyond the hour.

"He used that regeneration technique of his ten times to return to even this state. The snake summon, Manda was used as a shield to protect his body and the five Rashomon Gates before that. The gates and the snake itself were obliterated," Black Zetsu explained.

Without hesitation, Pein recovered from the internal shock he felt, "Then we must learn all we can from him before he expires. Itachi, use your Tsukuyomi to interrogate him." The thought of how powerful the explosion must have been treasonously lingered in his mind.

"Of course, leader," Itachi Uchiha intoned emotionlessly.

With Mangekyo Sharingan blazing as a fire in the darkness, Itachi forced Orochimaru's eyes open and gazed into them, "Tsukuyomi."

The snake sannin and the murderer of the Uchiha clan materialized in the genjutsu world.

Orochimaru gasped for air as though he had been drowning. Hacking coughs cut through the illusion like a hot knife through butter. Itachi was almost entirely lost for words. Orochimaru was one of the most resilient pests in the world. The man's ability to live through near inconceivable amounts of punishment was legendary. Just what was that explosion that had destroyed Konoha, their home?

Speaking of Konoha, the news it was gone had hit Itachi like a punch in the gut without any warning. What happened to Sasuke? Did his brother live? Or was Itachi now the last true Uchiha? Such questions would not be answered without input from their prisoner. Itachi chose to do his duty, as he always did.

"Get up."

Orochimaru was on his hands and knees breathing heavily. His whole body quivered and shook as though the act of living was agony made manifest. Saliva dripped from his mouth and tears of pain flowed from bloodshot eyes. He seemed afraid. Truly afraid.

Still, Orochimaru was an exceptionally proud ninja. Even in the jaws of death that he had so labored to avoid, he sought to present the most powerful figure possible in his worst moments. Orochimaru stood up and recomposed himself.

"Hello Itachi."

His voice cracked and even speaking only those two words revealed just how haggard he was.

"You and I both know that you do not have long left."

"I know."

That Orochimaru even acknowledged that showed he knew just how serious the injuries he sustained were. Here was a man whose life goal was to achieve immortality so he could obtain knowledge of all things. He had functionally achieved it too. Yet here he was with the knowledge that death was around the corner, and no amount of intelligence, raw talent, or cunning could save him from it.

"You went to Konoha," Itachi stated.

"I did."

"What happened there?"

Orochimaru's laugh was pained, "There were only two men there. Homura Mitokado and Kongou Akimichi. They were sick."

"Only two?"

"Unless you are suggesting that they masterminded a plot to send everyone to the bunkers only to blow everything up when we arrived. Not my finest moment when I failed to sniff out that little deception, I assure you."

"Then the people got out?"

"If you wanted to know about little Sasuke, then you could just ask," Orochimaru said before he violently coughed again. Even in the illusion of the Tsukuyomi, blood came out of his mouth.

Itachi's narrowed eyes revealed what he thought of that statement.

Orochimaru recovered from his cough, "If the village populace was anywhere near when it went up in a detonation of steam and earth, then nobody from Oto or Iwa noticed."

"Two hundred thousand people don't just vanish into the night."

"Cut that number by about twenty five percent. Have you not heard? There was a civil war. Only lasted an hour or so, but I assure you, it was bloody."

Itachi did not know of this as it turned out. A civil war? His actions against his clan had been specifically done to curtail such an event. Now all these years later, it seemed it had happened anyway. The pacifist inside him bled just a little bit more.

Oblivious or uncaring to Itachi's internal thoughts, Orochimaru continued, "There is exactly one clue to what happened. The remains of a destroyed seal were found in a newly made clearing outside the village. The refugee camp that was outside the village has been packed up and only dust and echoes remind us they existed at all."

"No trails leading to the Land of Wind or elsewhere? No sign of a caravan?"

"Not one."

Disturbing. Where did they all go? Zetsu could probably find them easily enough, but that still left many questions unanswered.

"This seal, what could you tell about it?"

"It could comfortably fit around ten thousand people on it. Little survived its destruction, but what remained revealed to me that it required an exorbitant amount of chakra to be used. You would need to bleed dry a jinchuriki to make it work."

Little Naruto than Itachi deduced. What could possibly take so much chakra that you would need to take such actions?

"Can you tell me anything else?"

Orochimaru shook his head. There was a rare honesty in the motion that Itachi did not fail to appreciate.

"One last question, you know Pein would have me ask it."

"Where is my ring?" Orochimaru guessed.

Itachi nodded.

Orochimaru pointed to a pocket on his pants hidden by the drab grey garbs he wore.

The illusion dissolved and Itachi returned to the normal world. Orochimaru's heart stopped beating at that moment. What little life was there left his black eyes. The man had finally died.

Itachi deigned to close Orochimaru's eyes in death before he felt around for the pocket and pulled out the special ring, pocketing it within his own cloak. His Sharingan disappeared as he rose from his kneeled position and looked Pein in his special eyes.

"Report."

"The villagers of Konoha still live, but it is unknown where they are now. All he knew is that there was a large seal that required a jinchuriki's worth of chakra to power."

"The bitches just up and left?" Hidan interjected, "Cowards should have welcomed Jashin's embrace!"

Pein sent the immortal a poisonous look, but said nothing.

"Clearly a cataclysmic disaster then. They knew it was coming, so they left," Kakuzu mused.

"Wanna share with the rest of the class there buddy, am I right Sasori my man?" Deidara quipped.

"Shut up," the aforementioned Sasori retorted.

"Oh, come on. You heard Zetsu! They would have gone up in an explosion so large it totaled the largest of the Great Five Ninja Villages! That must have been art! Fiery and gone in an instant!"

"Art is eternal you imbecile," the living puppet mocked.

"Enough," Pein ordered shutting up the two art fanatics, "Kakuzu, continue."

"I intercepted a messenger hawk coming from Konoha. It advised that everyone within three thousand kilometers of Konoha evacuate to avoid the fallout of an ecological disaster perpetuated by the Shimura clan. In short, everyone who lives within the Middle Country of Reed Beds. The entire continent."

Jaws dropped.

"Why did you not bring this up earlier?" Pein asked.

"You did not ask yet for my reports Pein. It came up did it not?"

All nine living members of the Akatsuki could say nothing more. Konoha had sent out word to all corners of the continent apparently, admitting they had screwed over everyone who lived there and then got the hell out of dodge. Just what had happened over there?

Pein felt the presence of Madara the moment he arrived. He had heard everything after Itachi had finished with Orochimaru. Pein looked to where the man lurked in the shadows. The nod of a head was all the communication he would get.

"Our plans have changed," Pein said, "We capture the jinchuriki we can now. No more teams. No more lurking in the shadows. We are lucky the sanbi jinchuriki did not die to the Terumi woman; else we would be in a far more unfortunate situation. Time is of the essence, so we will all of us be going after each one as a group. In the meantime, since we have recovered our late comrade's ring, we have an open slot. I will handle that. If you have business that is currently unresolved, tend to it now. We will be making our move within the month. Zetsu, find where the Konoha refugees are. Everyone else, dismissed."

All but Pein and Konan left the small cave where they had gathered. Madara materialized from the shadows, ominous and predatory.

"Even in death, it appears Danzo Shimura causes more problems for the world," Madara quipped, his face hidden from view by an orange spiral mask.

He sighed deeply, rather vexed. Things had gone awry in the most chaotic of ways and now they needed to adapt or forever be unable to accomplish their goals.

"We must make new plans Pein. Without the kyubi jinchuriki, all will be lost."

"Zetsu will find him," the leader of the Akatsuki replied.

"He had better," Madara ground out.

"We must be cautious all the same," Konan said, "This is where even more can go wrong. Another setback would be devastating."

"Agreed," Madara nodded, "We make for your village. There is much to discuss."

The trio departed for Ame. Now was the time to plan, for the Eye of the Moon would shine upon the world.

XXXXX

Author's Note: And so ends the third, but not necessarily final time Sansa experiences a "significant emotional event".

Again, this is the final update of this arc. These last 2 chapter titles by the way, I was in a mood, and I regret absolutely nothing.

The section that gave me hell if you are at all curious was the actual raid. I fully blame that for this particular hiatus. Without it, this arc would have been posted quite a while ago.

I cut a segment where Ned was called south after Jon Arryn had a nasty sickness. Suffice to say if you see references to these events in future chapters and don't know where they came from, they spawned from that cut section.

About three years have passed since the start of this arc to where our special cameo has taken place. The Akatsuki segment should date itself pretty well. Anyway, Theon got to experience an ironborn raid from the other side. Sansa has an axe now. Arya and Alysane are best friends and will have all the adventures. Should be fun. Time spent on Bear Island equates to around a year and a half.

So yeah, I changed Sansa's character pretty significantly. I hope it comes across as at least somewhat earned rather than forced. These chapters have been the trials of Sansa Stark. The theming behind them is not particularly fancy being frozen in fear, flight, and then fight respectively. Moving on, Ashihara no Nakatsukuni (middle country of reed beds) is what I've decided to call the Naruto continent. A bit belated perhaps, but better late than never for it to have a proper name.

Anyway, with this chapter we say goodbye to Westeros and move to well before the cameo from Naruto and Jiraiya to where our refugee friends have made themselves comfy at the base of the volcano. I don't know how long the journey to the west arc will take, but I hope at the end of the day it will be good reading.

Take care folks!