I don't own or co-own Naruto or A Song of Ice And Fire; that rights belong to Gorge R. R. Martin, And Masashi Kishimoto. Based upon Characters created by Gorge R. R. Martin, And Masashi Kishimoto.
Rated M - For Strong Language, Blood and Violence and other stuff.
"Talking"
"Thoughts"
[Jutsus, Techniques, and Spells]
I will not change the main story's components. It will still be as below.
Madara-centric!
"[Chapter 1: The Royal Wedding]"
Olenna Tyrell was doing her daily walk in Kings Landing, and Tywin Lannister had joined her on her stroll.
"The flowers are looking particularly lovely today," Olenna said, gesturing to the well-maintained gardens around them.
"Indeed," Tywin replied, his eyes not leaving the distant towers of the Red Keep. "It seems the gods are in a generous mood."
"How goes the preparation of the wedding of your grandson and my granddaughter?" She asked.
"The last details are being tended to as we speak," Tywin replied, his gaze finally meeting hers. "The realm is eager for this union. It will strengthen our families' alliance and secure the Iron Throne's future."
"Joffrey and Margaery make a lovely pair... although your grandson in not right in his mind..."
Olenna's voice was like velvet, but the words she spoke were as sharp as a dagger's point. Tywin's expression remained unchanged, his gaze as steady as the mountains of Westeros themselves.
"He is young," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "And eager to prove himself. With the right guidance, he will become a king to be feared and respected."
"I heard rumours, the man that helped Robert on his rebellion was seen in Dorne... Madara Uchiha, was his name?"
The mention of Madara's name caused Tywin's eyes to narrow, and his grip on his walking stick tightened. The name was not unfamiliar to him, and the implications were clear.
Madara was a legend, a powerful force that had been missing from the political landscape for years. His reappearance could mean trouble for the realm, especially if he had thrown his weight behind the Martells.
"Rumors are like whispers in the wind, Lady Olenna," Tywin said, his voice measured. "They can carry truth, but they often carry lies. I will have my men look into this, but I suspect it's nothing more than a tale to stir the pot."
"He carries powers of the gods, I heard. You have seen him in battle, Lord Tywin, are the rumours of his power true?"
Olenna's question hung in the air, her eyes searching Tywin's for any sign of fear or doubt. The old lion of Casterly Rock took a moment to respond, his expression unyielding.
"Madara Uchiha was indeed a formidable warrior in his time," Tywin admitted, his voice as cold and calculating as ever. "But he is a man of the past, one whose legend has grown in the shadows. Should he dare to emerge from Dorne, we would be prepared. The Lannisters do not fear shadows or the whispers of old men."
"I heard you two used to be quite the good friends."
Olenna's voice was soft, almost a whisper. Tywin's eyes narrowed further at the subtle jab, his grip on the walking stick tightening. The mention of friendship was a knife twist in the air between them.
The history between Tywin and Madara was complex, interwoven with battles and bloodshed, a dance of power and politics that had long ago turned sour.
"We were allies, Lady Olenna," Tywin corrected her, his tone firm. "But the gods have their ways of reminding us that the past is the past. Should he come to Kings Landing, our friendship will not shield him from the consequences of his actions."
"I had the pleasure of meeting him once about 30 years ago."
Olenna spoke as if reminiscing about a distant memory, her eyes still on the flowers. "He was quite the charmer. A man of honor, I believed, until he vanished without a trace. A man of such valor and valor, to simply disappear? It's curious, wouldn't you say?"
"Madara Uchiha is a devil in human skin. He is terrifying. But he was honourable." Tywin spoke.
Olenna snorted. "Honour is a luxury few can afford in this city, Lord Tywin. And I suspect that the devil you knew is not the same one that now walks the sands of Dorne."
"I just hope he stays in Dorne." He said, his voice hopeful.
Olenna's gaze snapped to him, her eyes sharp as knives. "Why would you say that, unless you fear him?"
"If you had seen him in battle, you would fear him as well, Lady Tyrell."
Tywin's words were cold and flat, his gaze still on the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a fiery glow over the city, as if the very skies were reflecting the tension between them.
"Fear is a small price to pay for peace, Lady Olenna. And should the need arise, I will deal with him as I deal with all threats to my family and the realm. With swiftness and certainty."
"And yet, I can see you shaking in your boots."
Olenna's words were like a lightning bolt, breaking the tension as she offered a knowing smile. Tywin's expression didn't falter, but the air around them grew colder. He knew she was baiting him, testing his resolve.
"Your wit is as sharp as ever, Lady Tyrell," he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement. "But fear does not govern my actions. Duty does."
"Interesting. Well then, shall we end our walk? I'm tired and require some sleep. I will see you tomorrow on the wedding day."
Olenna turned and began to walk away, her skirts swishing against the stone path. Tywin watched her go, his thoughts racing. Madara's reappearance was a wildcard he hadn't anticipated.
He knew the man's cunning and brutality from their past encounters, and he couldn't ignore the potential threat he posed.
The wedding was only a few days away, and the arrival of such a powerful player could upend all of Tywin's carefully laid plans.
He needed to act quickly to ensure that the alliance between the Lannisters and Tyrells remained strong, and that the Iron Throne remained within his grasp.
"I shall send a raven to Dorne," Tywin decided, turning to one of his nearby guards. "Inquire about the presence of Madara Uchiha. Discreetly."
The guard nodded and hurried off, leaving Tywin alone with his thoughts. The re-emergence of Madara was a puzzle piece that didn't fit into his grand scheme. He knew that if he didn't move carefully, it could lead to a war that could consume them all. He couldn't let his guard down, not even for a moment.
The following days were a blur of meetings and strategy sessions. Tywin's mind raced with scenarios, trying to predict Madara's next move. Would he come to the wedding, bringing chaos with him? Or would he stay in Dorne, biding his time?
As the grand day approached, the air in Kings Landing grew thick with anticipation. The city was adorned with banners of the Lannister lion and Tyrell rose, fluttering in the breeze like a sea of gold and green.
The scent of roasting meats and sweet pastries filled the streets, mingling with the excitement of the common folk. The nobility were dressed in their finest silks and furs, whispering behind fans and cups of wine about the mysterious guest from Dorne.
Margaery Tyrell, the bride-to-be, was a picture of grace under the pressure. Her smile never faltered as she met with the seamstresses and maesters, ensuring every detail of the wedding was to her liking. But beneath the serene surface, she was as sharp as her grandmother's tongue.
She knew the name Madara Uchiha, and the whispers of his power had reached her ears. She had her own plans in place, ready to charm the legendary warrior should he decide to grace them with his presence.
Meanwhile, in Dorne, Madara Uchiha watched the ravens come and go from the Tower of the Sun. His eyes, once filled with fiery passion, were now cold and calculating. He had his own reasons for staying in the shadows, and the wedding in Kings Landing was merely a chess piece in a game he had been playing for decades. The sun-kissed lands of Dorne had given him refuge and power, and now it was time to make his move.
The Martells had promised him vengeance against the Lannisters, and Madara intended to deliver. His skills and cunning had not dulled with age; they had merely been honed into a weapon of precision.
His Sharingan, the eye that could copy any jutsu and peer into the hearts of men, was as potent as ever. It had allowed him to navigate the treacherous waters of Dorne's politics with ease.
"Oberyn, shall we to Kings Landing? Our time to avenge Ellia has come."
Madara's voice echoed through the chamber, the flaming red iris of his Sharingan eye piercing through the shadows. His host, Doran Martell, nodded solemnly. The prince of Dorne knew that Madara's involvement could be the wildfire that would burn the Lannister's carefully constructed alliances to ash.
"Your plan is risky, Madara. The Lannisters are not to be underestimated," Doran warned, his gaze reflecting the candlelight.
"And I'm not to underestimated as well.
Madara's reply was firm and unwavering, his eyes gleaming with the promise of destruction. He had spent years in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The wedding was not just a union of houses but a convergence of power. The Iron Throne would be within his grasp if he played his cards right.
Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper, stepped forward, his own eyes gleaming with anticipation. He had long dreamed of vengeance for his sister's brutal death at the hands of the Mountain, and Madara's offer was too tempting to refuse.
"We shall go to Kings Landing," he said, his voice carrying the deadly promise of a snake about to strike. "But beware, Madara, the Lannisters are not the only serpents in the grass."
"Ellia was my friend, I will have my revenge."
Madara's words brought a chill down their spines, but Doran remained unfazed. He knew the price of vengeance, and the weight of the decisions that lay before them.
"Your friendship with Ellia is admirable, Madara, but beware the dance of shadows you are about to enter. The Lannisters play a game of thrones that is as old as the very stones of this realm. Their allies are many and their resources are vast."
"I have my own card as well. Within a week I promise the Lannister will fall."
Madara's words were as sharp as the blade he had sheathed at his side. The promise of vengeance filled the air like the scent of a coming storm. Oberyn nodded, the fire in his eyes matching the determination in the old warrior's voice.
"They might be lions, but I'm their God of Death."
Madara's smirk was cold and certain as he surveyed the map of Westeros spread out before him. His eyes traced the path from Dorne to the capital, his mind racing with the countless ways he could dismantle the Lannister's empire.
The wedding was to be a grand affair, a spectacle of power and wealth that would draw the eyes of the realm. It was the perfect stage for his dramatic return.
Madara had studied the layout of the city, the movements of the Lannister's forces, and the whispers of treachery that echoed through the halls of the Red Keep. His plan was simple yet ingenious: strike when the enemy was blinded by their own pomp and circumstance.
"Come Oberyn, we are leaving.
Madara's decision was final. His time in Dorne had come to an end, and the winds of fate were blowing them towards Kings Landing.
They gathered their retinue and set off, their journey fraught with tension and anticipation.
Madara's presence was a secret weapon, a blade hidden in the folds of Dorne's colorful cloak.
Chapter 1 End.