A/N: I'd like to use this opportunity to give a shout out to a new Game of Thrones story I've discovered. "The Mountain's Range" by the Passionate Admiral. Its responsible for keeping me invested in Game of Thrones even as the fandom threatens to tear itself apart under the weight of the last episode.
SPOILERS FOR ALL THE SEASONS AHEAD!
YE HAVE BEEN WARNED!
I wanted to get this out before the final episode, because I'm not happy with episode five. Not at all. Not in the least. Three I could at least understand and MAYBE four, but it feels like they've all but jumped the shark in this one. I won't say too much about the plot, who died and whatnot, but the leaps of logic in this episode, coupled with the last...
...just...what the hell.
There, we've gotten that out of the way. Disclaimer, I own nothing, blah, blah, blah...
Spoiler warnings for Game of Thrones as well as the Telltale game iteration. A few such characters will appear in later chapters. Shame we're never going to get a sequel to that game, given where it ended and the fate of that company. It was one of Telltale's better games, and it really felt like my choices mattered there.
Great, now I'm sad.
And now at long last we come to it. Deaths are coming, and soon. You'd best be prepared.
Now for your questions!
Q: Wait, wait, wait! Who all is with being Naruto right now? By that I mean, whose headed to Frey's wedding?
A: Putting your grammar aside, I believe I can clarify that. Beyond those already listed, Naruto's brought quite the entourage with him. Here's the list. Shireen and Ulric, followed Daenerys and her dragons, of course. Margaery and a number of her handmaidens. Melisandre as well, much to his chagrin. As state outright by one of the last previews, Tyrion has also accompanied-been dragged by Naruto really-to the Twins. Which means naturally Bronn and Shae tagged along of course. Likewise, Eleanor is headed their way with the Hound and Arya in tow.
Next we have the Stark retinue, whom they'll all be meeting shortly. Then there's the five hundred guards assigned to our boy. Not to mention...other forces in this chapter.
That's a lot of heads to keep track of!
With me so far? Good!
Q: Give us the Hound, already! FOR THE CHICKEN!
A: Seriously, that's becoming a meme isn't it?
Q: Please don't shaft Jon. You won't right?
A: I will not. Ygritte came before Daenerys if you recall, and she was Jon's first love. The crazy redhead is going to live if I have anything to say about it! Recall that I've all but stated Naruto and the Hound WILL eventually make a trip to the wall before this tale is done.
Beyond that I can say no more.
Q: You know, if memory severs, Aliser Thorne-no idea if I spelled that right-was a Targaryen supporter, wasn't he? I believe that's why he was sent to the Wall. Dear god if he meets Daenerys by some chance I can imagine the chaos that follows.
A: Ohhhhh that will be a bitter pill to swallow.
In fact, lets cover some potential plot points to come, just so everyone's on the same page. Let's list five bullet points in no particular order of what may yet come:
(1) Reclaiming Dragonstone and the dragon glass there.
(2) A trek to the wall and its attack, in which Thorne will play a key role.
(3) Jon Snow.
(4) The war with the Lannisters, Greyjoys, and other foes of the realm.
(5) The Long Night. Done proper! PROPERLY!
There's plenty more than this to come, so I hope you'll stay with us on the journey we have planned!
Q: I like that you haven't made Naruto the hero of this story. That is a FINE turn of events.
A: In Game of Thrones, there are few heroes. Good, evil, and shades of grey perhaps, but very few heroes. Naruto's just someone reacting to events; events he has no control over. After all, it is said that taking a castle is far easier than keeping one.
Q: I'm a touch disappointed that you've all but left Eleanor high and dry. She had all the makings of a good original character and that's quite rare.
A: Worry not, we're not done with her yet and she has her own role to play.
Q: Neon, you're really kind, aren't you?
A: 0_0 Many think I'm quite the opposite given some of the more bloody chapters in this story and the kill-count we've already racked up but...well, yes, I suppose I am. Its part of why I've dallied so long with this; the Red Wedding is an infamous event and I don't like killing our favorite characters. But all men must die, just as all men must serve.
There's going to be a lot of the former here.
Q: Mira?! From Telltale's Game of Thrones?! Oh please please PLEASE let her interact with Naruto again! Hell, I'd settle for that prologue story you hinted at!
A: She does crop up, but beyond that I won't say anymore. Who knows, you just might get that prequel someday. All set?
Q: Will you dedicate a chapter to all those that have fallen in Season Eight? I know you've got a soft spot for one or two of them! You don't fool me!
A: Aye, this is that. Think of it as a salute to all those who have died so far-and are likely to die-in the final episode. I'll watch Game of Thrones until the end, if only to see who ends up on that bloody chair. I swear by the seven, if its *redacted* as the leaks suggest, then I'm not going to be happy. Alternatively, anger is a hell of a motivation, so...
Sorry if its short!
Now then, off we go!
Note, this takes place after Naruto's wedding.
Hope this makes you smile as we carry on into the future.
As always, expect the unexpected, and pay attention to every line of dialogue...
...never know when this story might spring an unexpected surprise now, do we? *whistles innocently* now then...
...you will read the following quote in Oberyn's voice and be unable to hear it in any other . It certainly sounds like something that crazy bastard would say.
I'm trying to capture the heart and soul of Game of Thrones here, so I apologize if this chapter has a bit more...talking than usual. Worry not, it has its fair share of saucy and stabby bits as well _
"They say all men must die and all men must serve...
...but what of dragons, I ask you?"
"What're you on about?"
"Tell me, whom do they serve? Hmm? Dragons do not die as easily as men, nor can they be bidden to serve against their will. Not without great cost. A dragon chooses, you see. They can be quite picky about that bit, or so I have been told. If a dragon does not want to eat? The dragon does not eat. If a dragon dislikes its rider? The rider dies. Ah, but if a dragon chooses you! You will never have a truer companion, nor a more loyal friend. Dragons will fight to the death to protect their own. Much like the Mother of Dragons, I suppose. She chose you. At the end of the day for all your shared faults and flaws, she chose you. Know that. Remember that. Take PRIDE in that. You are a stag, like your father before you. Do not hesitate. Cast off your fear. Be more like your lady wife. Live in the moment. Revel in it. And if your enemies seek to tear you down...
...show them your horns."
~a pivotal conversation.
Valar Morghulis (Part I)
Arya found the Prince at sunset.
Slender fingers of waning fire stretched out across half-clouded skies in their last dying gasp; vainly trying find themselves a handhold to save themselves as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Still the night crept in with inexorably calm and relentless in spite of the sun's valiant efforts to stay in the sky and the field grew darker with each step. All told, that great blazing orb-rather the sinking sliver that remained-painted itself a beautiful if somber picture as they stood upon down the hill overlooking his camp.
"Do you think Robb is down there, somewhere?" she murmured, almost to herself, searching in vain for the colors of her house.
Truly, the Stark girl could've stared all day; and likely would have for quite some time yet if left to her own devices. Her companion didn't share her fascination with the sunset. With nary a grunt he shoulder past her and started down the hill himself, leaving her to hasten after him with a cry. "Hey!" she yelped! "Wait for me, you big oaf!"
"Walk faster, then." The Hound didn't even deign to look back. "We haven't got all damn day."
Arya huffed. "You're the worst shit in the seven kingdoms sometimes, you know that?"
"Bah." came the immediate rejoinder. "Plenty worse than me. Now keep up."
Even as the exhausted girl trotted after Sandor's rapidly retreating back she found she still had a remarkable view of the land as they descended into the controlled chaos below; the train of servants carrying barrels of ale and wine to the gate, the distant torchlight flickering in preparation for the coming night, the faint sounds of laughter and the scent of food teasing her nose. Her stomach growled in responsive, bleating a plaintive note of quiet discord as they grew
Gods, she was hungry.
Framed in the light of fading day she saw the tents, the horses, the men, and each of them, goggled at them. Pitched just short of the Twins and the towering shadows they cast, a sprawling series of pitched tents lurked near those great towers and their bridge looming large in the distance; a field of gold and black and yellow and even red sprinkled among them. Heraldry she both knew and didn't recognize. She knew the Baratheon sigil well from her time in Kings Landing, but this one was different; the stag itself was set afire within a heart of flame. Others eluded her utterly; who did the rose belong to, again? Or the huntsman? Was that an onion? So many banners, and each set her mind spinning.
Eleanor, their guide and former shield-maiden had slipped away to gods-knew-where last hours ago, leaving them to fend for themselves in the chaos of the royal camp and its countless followers. So fend they did, trying not to draw attention to themselves. Many eyes followed them as they threaded their way through the tents-no doubt drawn by the Hound's horrifically scarred visage-but despite the initial curiosity no one dared challenge them as they were...
"Well if it isn't the bloody hound!"
...she'd spoken too soon.
"For fuck's sake!"
Rounding on the sound and the one who called to them, Arya nearly drew Needle, but it was the Hound who swore. After so many months on the run her first instinct was to do just that; to run, to place as much distance between her and this stranger as possible. It was only Clegane's annoyed grunt that stayed her feet where they stood. If there was any true danger he would've drawn that big sword of his and attacked by now, or so she reasoned. The faint recognition-and irritation-in his voice soothed her frayed nerves somewhat.
She'd never seen this man in her life, but apparently the Hound had; because he immediately moved to place himself between her and the newcomer.
"What in the seven hells are you doing here?"
"Not shoveling Lannister shit anymore, that's for certain!" the newcomer shot back.
There was a certain swagger to his step, a staid boldness bordering on arrogance but only just. Here was a man who grinned as though he'd just been given great news. In comparison to her heavily armored companion he stood clad in simple boiled leathers over which he'd throat a black coat and an equally dark pair of trousers and boots. Strong thumbs hooked in his belt and a sword at his side, he radiated surety of purpose and lithe strength. Of middle-age, with dark hair and worn face, he looked decidedly...roguish. Even so Arya never would've taken him for a mercenary or a turncoat, a hired-killer, nor a murderer of men.
She would come to revise that opinion soon enough.
"Bronn of the fucking Blackwater." the last Clegane growled, though the latter was favored with a nasty smile. "Looks like you're shoveling Baratheon shit these days."
"No, no, no, don't you start running your mouth." said sell-sword shook his finger at them, still grinning in spite of the verbal jab. "You're not going to ruin this for me, Clegane. I'm getting Casterly Rock when all this is over. And no amount of ribbing on your part's going to change that."
With a laugh, he crossed the lingering distance between them.
"And I haven't seen you since ran away with your tail between your legs back at Kings Landing. Ha! But look at you now!" Much to Arya's chagrin the man wasn't just bold enough to insult the Hound to his face, he actually stalked right up to him and clapped on the back as if they were old friends. "Now you've got a royal pardon and one of the last Starks with you." that shrewd, assessing gaze flicked her up and down. "Seems you're doing well for yourself."
"Well enough." If Sandor had further answers for him, he was loathe to give them.
"Aha!" Understanding dawned in those shrewd eyes. "That's what you've been doing, then?" Bronn quirked another brow. "Protecting her?"
A strange emotion stole over the Hound's face, as though he were shocked to hear the words spoken aloud himself. Arya fought down a secret little smile of her own.
"Aye," Clegane relented at last, hardening his face to hide his shock. "That's what I'm doing. Now where's the fucking prince? Little shit promised me a reward if I brought her back to her brother."
Softie.
Her smirk must've been telling; or perhaps Bronn shared the same thought; because he waggled a dark brow at her and didn't call him on his bluff.
"Right over there." the lord-to-be laughed, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate a distant in the midst of the camp. "Give him my regards and tell him we brought the last of the barrels up to the Twins, would you? Its the red one with all the heraldry. Dragons and stags and roses all over. Can't miss it."
The unlikely duo exchanged a dismayed glance.
"Roses?" Arya mouthed in abject horror.
With a wave and a whistle Bronn happily left them to their own devices. "Good luck! Try not to piss off the dragons! They're in a mood today!"
Arya's short-lived disgust at the idea of roses died a swift death the moment he mentioned dragons. They were real?! At the end of the day she still held true to the tales told by Old Nan, and the mere mention of legendary winged beasts was enough to provoke her curiosity to the fullest. Sandor's reaction proved decidedly muted by comparison. Rolling his eyes, he gently-but-firmly dragged her to the prince's tent-earning a bemused look from the guards posted there-and pausing just long enough to par the flap that served as an entrance, but not enough to enter.
"Fuck're you doing?" Clegane growled at her.
"Shh!" the little Stark rammed a finger against her lips for silence and remarkably, the wounded warrior complied. With that, Arya tentatively poked her head inside to survey her surroundings. What she found within was large enough more than a dozen men and women; ironic, considering the amount of bodies within. She goggled at the sprawling expanse and its occupants within, but none moreso than the one speaking.
...enough barrels?" someone was murmuring as she strained her ears to hear.
Another chuckled. "More than enough."
Barrels?
"Remember," once again that low, drawling voice rolled through her ears, "We have to let Walder Frey make the first move. Predicting and countering them's all well and good, but if we attack first, half the bloody Seven Kingdoms will spit on the lot of us. I'm sure no one here wants that...?"
A smattering of agreement answered and Arya craned her neck to see the speaker amidst the sea of bodies.
She found him readily enough at the table.
This was the prince?
All told, she had expected him to be taller. With a voice like thunder and lightning shooting from his eyes. Someone who could disappear into the shadows without a trace. That sort of thing. Given the tall tales told her by Eleanor, coupled with wild rumors they'd heard on the road, she had already painted herself a picture of the young monarch in her mind. The young man that she found instead didn't quite live up to her expectations; true, he commanded a certain sense of presence, and he was certainly loud and boisterous enough, but in the end...
...he was just a man.
Unlike his many guards, he was only lightly armored in hunting leathers. Were it not for the sword at his side she would've thought him a fool. Looked like he knew how to use it, too.
So did his guard.
At first she though the one beside him must be a giant, if only because he dwarfed everyone else in the tent. But no, for all his burly appearance and great bristling beard, this was a man. A large one perhaps, but still a man nevertheless, armed and armored to the teeth. Bodyguard, her keen mind labeled him instantly. Here was someone charged with the Prince's protection; someone quite capable indeed. He might have been able to give the Mountain himself a run for his money. Who knew? He turned at their approach, exposing his liege in questions.
The prince himself stood hunched over a massive table, hands splayed before an etched map, keen blue eyes focused upon the pieces arrayed there.
"Planning for the worst as always." She heard the Imp's voice groan, though she nearly missed him near the head of the table. "Why am I not surprised? You act as if we're all going to die tonight." silence reigned and he risked a glance at their impromptu council. "By your own admission Walder Frey is a coward at heart. Surely there is no need to exterminate his entire house in retaliation-
All eyes turned toward the Hand of the King-followed by more than a few muttered curses-and the dwarf downed the last of his wine with sigh.
"Tell me, Tyrion." Naruto's own keen blue gaze cut into him with the intensity of a thousand gleaming knives. "What do you know of your father? Have you heard the Rains of Castamere? Ring any bells?"
...fair enough." he relented blackly, raising his goblet. "I may have spoken out of turn. Family will always be my greatest weakness, I suppose. A toast to my own foolishness. To answer your question, my lord father," and here dwarf continued with a black look for the mere mention of his sire's cruelty still deeply unsettled him to this very day, "Is never the sort to let a debt go unpaid. If you think he'll go so far as to make use of the young wolf's wedding visit to strike at you, then who am I to object?"
"That reminds me!" the prince immediately seized on the opportunity to brighten the mood of his drinking companion. "When is your wedding? Shae needs a present."
"Urk!"
Tyrion choked on his wine and pounded on his chest as his wife-to-be hummed happily at his side. "While I appreciate your gratitude, that's not necessary...
"Nonsense!" the prince slammed a fist down on the table, causing several goblets and pieces to jump. "I won't hear of it! Name anything-within reason of course-and you'll have it by sundown tomorrow. I never go back on my word."
"As Your Grace commands...
"Ha! I win!" Naruto crowed triumphantly.
"Honestly, you can be such a BOY sometimes."
Arya's gaze shifted toward a beautiful woman with startling red hair as she moved to his right side and made herself known. Something clicked in the back of her mind-she remembered Eleanor mentioning a woman like that, once. That must by the Tyrell woman then. Who were the others then? Gods, it was hard to keep track of them all. With that great big boulder of a man blocking most of her view again she had to stand on the very tips of her toes just to see some of them and even then her view was compromised by the black bulk lingering near the tent's entrance.
A cheeky grin flashed back at her. "Would you have me any other way?"
Margaery palmed her face.
...I suppose not." she amended after a moment's thought, threading her fingers with those of the prince.
His laughter reminded her of the fat king. So did the eyes. Beyond that she didn't see the family resemblance. Where King Robert had been heavy with food and drink this was a young man in the prime of life, all corded muscle and razor wit lurking behind a kindly smile. His hair had been dark and his beard thick as a brier bush-Naruto bore no such beard and his hair looked as though it were cut from fire itself. He didn't much look like Stannis, either. Was he a bastard then, like Jon? The thought made her wonder.
"And if they don't attack?" one of the men-a general perhaps?-asked bluntly. "Forgive my discourtesy your grace, but this seems quite the risk."
Her gaze flitted to a grim looking man near the large one and glimpsed a gaunt-yet-hardy looking man in unfamiliar livery, his dark eyes fixed firmly upon the prince.
"Then you've given your men a brisk march across the countryside for nothing, Randyll." that scowl slipped into a sly, sardonic smile. "Your job is to keep Margaery safe. In the likely even that our lovely host turns on us," here he slid a trio of icons across the map, "You and your men will ride down and lay waste to the Twins. I trust you can see to that task? Now then-
"Why go to all this trouble then?" a woman's sultry voice inquired just out of her sight. "You'll be placing yourself in harms way for nothing. It all seems...unnecessary."
"Not for nothing, Dany." the prince's gentle rebuke put paid to her question. "You forget, I was fostered here for a time and I know how Walder Frey thinks. The old man's a right bitter old bastard who doesn't give a flying fig for anyone or anything...until you slight him. Robb Stark did more than slight him; he all but spat in his face when he took that girl into his bed. Nevermind the King in the North, the crown princess and the princesses? That's a prize Frey won't be able to pass up. Neither will Tywin Lannister."
"You've thought this through.
"He who passes the sentence must swing the sword. A good deed does not wash out the bad." The young man muttered, causing Arya's ears to prick up. "Nor does a bad wash out the good. I'm not much for strategy, but I understand the basics. Are we all agreed on our parts?"
"By my reckoning, that's beyond basic, there." the weathered sailor at his left shook his head. "You're more like your father than you care to admit."
"Praising me won't change your role, Davos." Naruto gave him a small smile. "Now, about your ships-
"Oh, for fuck's sake, move already!"
But the Hound had clearly had enough eavesdropping and barged into the tent, heedless of the bemused looks his unannounced arrival garnered. Least of all the Prince himself. Those piercing blue eyes lit up at the sight of them and with a shooing gestured he dismissed many of the tents occupants. Only Margaery and the giant man lingered, though Tyrion paused long enough to sketch her a small bow. Arya flicked him a small, uneasy smile just before the object of her attention knelt before her.
"Aha! There's the man of the hour." he beamed. "You must by Arya Stark! Your brother will be glad to see you."
"I thought you'd be taller." She said, for lack of anything else.
A blond brow rose. "You're definitely a Stark."
Sandor Clegane had never been one to wax poetic; even as Arya realized what was about to happen, the Hound had already moved. Rather than approach the prince he made a beeline for the giant, whose helmeted head turned to face him in stoic silence. A brief note of tension swelled in the room as he glowered up at him.
"You're a big fucker." these words escaped the scarred warrior in a flat growl. "Almost remind me of my brother."
She half-expected the massive man to laugh. Instead he removed his helm, exposing his bearded face to the world and his identity, much to the Hound's consternation. It became clear then, despite the rumors he'd heard and longed for, that this was not his sibling. A shame that. It was almost...disappointing. He would've relished the chance to cut him down to size. The words that followed stole even that faint hope away.
"Aye, the Mountain Who Rides?" Ulric grinned toothily. "He's dead. Sorry about that."
At this Arya watched the Hound falter briefly; he swayed back half a step before steadying himself again, nothing more. She saw something spark in his hideous face just then, an ember of wrath igniting behind those dark eyes. She knew it well. Hate. Nor for their deed, or his brother, but at what he'd been denied his satisfaction. He'd wanted to kill him, she realized. Now that had been taken away from him and he would never know the joy of vengeance that he'd so craved. He almost reached for his blade.
"Easy there, Clegane." Naruto drawled softly. "If it makes you feel any better, he suffered before he died. Immensely."
For a moment she thought he might actually stab the prince.
With an effort, his fist uncurled from sword's hilt.
...I want details." he growled.
"And you'll have them." the prince promised. "But you've come a long way. Hungry?"
"Might be."
A hearty chicken leg sailed his way in response and the foul-mouthed soldier deftly snatched it out of the air. Not a heartbeat later he was sinking his teeth into it in contented silence. He made way gladly as the prince fell back and Arya found the source of the strange trilling. It had been a faint sound, idly tugging at her senses, but she'd paid it little mine until now. Naruto and his men had accidentally blocked her view from the southern side of the room, and thus, kept someone out of sight. No longer.
"Aren't you going to introduce us?" a new voice inquired.
"Right, right, where are my manners?"
Turning, she saw her.
"May I present my wife, Daenerys of the house Targaryen, and Margaery, of the house Tyrell.
Arya had already seen the redheaded woman, but not this one. Not her. At the end of the tent a woman with pale hair and bright eyes lounged in a chair that almost resembled a throne. Her white dress was pristine, exposing a silver chain and the pale expanse of one shoulder. She was beauty and grace personified, yet the sight of her also paled in comparison to those that surrounded her. Even the greatest of kings and queens couldn't hope to compare to the creature resting its head in her lap.
Her dragons brought the Stark girl up short.
Three of them.
Three!
One of them was larger than the others, a great black beast already larger than her that reclined near the tent's entrance. She'd been so close, but in the dim lighting hadn't seen it until this very moment. Its siblings lounged about the room in a similar state; one green, the other almost white-gold, resting its long neck atop her legs with a contented trill. Arya caught herself gaping, nearly taken aback by the sight of them. Almost reaching out to touch them, such was her shock.
Actual dragons!
"Valar Morguhlis." she muttered to herself. Not because the saying applied here, but because here, in this moment, Arya Stark realized a fundamental truth. Men would die to these creatures in droves, dozens and hundred and thousands. Beasts of legend and myth, brought back into the world. And she was looking at them. Seeing them. Here. For the first time in her life. Daenerys favored her with a wry, almost knowing look.
"Indeed." she hummed." All men must die.
She graced her with a smile, then.
"But we are not men."
A/N: Author's note here is relatively the same, so feel free to skip down to the juicy previews below.
Felt good to finally get back to his after a year, now that my health is holding together. You can certainly expect more updates soon, dare I say monthly? I want to say weekly. In an ideal world, that would be better, but my job's beating me to hell and back. I may have a team now, but that's only for SOME of my stories, such as Die Another Day and others. This bad boy right here was once written with the help of a dear one who has...well. Suffice it to say she's moved on. I don't begrudge her it, and I continue in her stead.
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review, Would You Kindly?
No preview this time...
...who am I kidding?
Here you gooo~!
Obvious line is obvious and I own nothing~!
(Previews)
"My honored guests!"
"Convenient of you to say that, isn't it?"
The old Frey frowned and smacked his lips. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were making a threat."
A blond brow rose. "Well do you?"
"Do I what?" Walder spat.
"Know better."
Margaery arched a demure eyebrow.
"I believe this handmaiden of mine...knows you."
The question caught him flatfooted and he turned slowly.
"Naruto?"
"Mira?!"
Ulric groaned.
"Well! You certainly knocked him on his ass! Do you have a name, my lady?"
The challenger reached back and removed their helm, revealing the face of a young woman. Planting a boot on the fallen Umber's breastplate, she turned and sketched a short, flowing bow.
"Dacey Mormont, your grace."
The Boulder-or as some had come to call him, the new Mountain That Rides-blinked up at the woman who'd bested him...and grinned.
"I think I'm in love."
"That man," Tyrion swallowed, "Is the deadliest warrior in the all the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps it would be best to hear him out."
To her mild dismay, her savior knelt.
"I have been searching for you, Daenerys Stormborn, to ask your forgiveness. I was sworn to protect your family." that snowy head inclined in shame. "I failed them. I am Barristan Selmy, kingsguard to your father. Allow me to serve you, and I will not fail you again."
The Mother of Dragons gazed at him in silence. In the end, the answer was given for her.
"Stop kneeling, man!" Naruto ushered the aging warrior to his feet. "Of course you can join us!"
"You should be king."
"I don't want it." blue eyes narrowed crossly. "Let Stannis keep it."
R&R! =D
