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 3:A New Era Begins Now!]"
Time had passed and Madara's control over King's Landing grew stronger. The city remained in a tense stalemate, with the Dornish and Tyrell forces keeping a wary eye on each other, both sides unsure of their true allegiances. Madara had proven himself a master strategist, placing trusted allies in key positions and ensuring that the Lannister siblings remained alive, yet firmly under his control.
"Oberyn, I'm going to Ellis's grave. I trust you can handle the situation here?"
Madara's voice was as cold as the steel of the Iron Throne as he spoke to the Red Viper, who nodded solemnly. The new ruler of King's Landing strode out of the Throne Room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. He needed to be alone, to think, to plan his next move in this ever-evolving game of thrones.
The air outside was thick with the smell of smoke and the distant clang of steel, a stark reminder of the battle that had been waged in the very heart of the city. Madara made his way through the Red Keep's winding halls, his mind racing with thoughts of strategy and alliances. The castle had been his prison once, now it was his fortress.
As he reached the quiet sanctity of the godswood, he knelt before a simple stone marker. Ellia's grave was a silent testament to the love and loss that had driven him to this moment. He placed a single blood-red leaf on the stone, a symbol of the fiery vengeance he had brought to the Lannisters.
"You can rest in peace, my comrade. I have avenged you and your children."
Madara's whisper was a solemn promise to the wind as he stood, his eyes lingering on the stone that marked Ellia's resting place. His thoughts drifted to the future, the alliances he would need to forge and the enemies he would have to vanquish. His journey to Westeros had been fraught with danger and deceit, but he had achieved his first victory.
After the Fourth Great Ninja War, he thought he had died, but as fate would have it, he was transported to this world.
Ellia had been the one who had found him in the shores of Kings landing and healed him back to health, a kindness he never forgot. Her gentle touch had brought him peace in his darkest moments. Now, as he stood over her grave, he knew that peace was a fleeting thing in the world of Westeros. The wind whispered through the leaves, carrying the distant cries of the city. Madara's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and plans, each one more ambitious than the last.
He had to be careful. The Lannisters were not the only serpents in this realm. Madara knew that he could not win the game of thrones through brute force alone. Otherwise, he would be hated by the common folk; the very people he wanted to protect.
He needed the trust of the people, that was the most important thing. Madara had seen empires crumble from the inside out, torn apart by greed and treachery. He would not allow that to happen here. He had to be a beacon of hope, a figure of unity in a land fractured by war.
Leaving the godswood, Madara made his way back to the Throne Room, his steps swift and determined. Upon his return, he found the Tyrells and the remnants of the Lannister forces standing before him, tension palpable in the air. He knew that he had to act quickly to stabilize the situation before it spiralled further out of control.
"Hear me, all of you!" Madara's voice boomed through the chamber, the flames of the torches flickering at the power of his words. "The reign of House Lannister has ended in blood and betrayal. We stand on the precipice of a new era, one where justice and honor will reign supreme!"
The room was silent, the air thick with the anticipation of his next words. Madara's eyes swept over the crowd, the flaming red of his Sharingan eye a stark contrast to the ashen faces of the Lannister loyalists.
He turned his attention to the Iron Throne and kicked it with the force of a mountain, shattering the swords that held it together into a thousand deadly shards. The room gasped as the throne that had been the ultimate symbol of power in the realm lay in ruins before them.
"This is not the throne I wish to rule from!" Madara's voice was like a thunderclap, shaking the very stones of the chamber. "I come not to claim power for myself, but to return it to the people from whom it was stolen!"
The shock of his action reverberated through the room, leaving the Lannister loyalists trembling with anger and fear. Margaery's eyes widened with surprise, and even Olenna looked taken aback by his audacity.
"Madara, what do you intend?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions roiling within her.
"Peace. It is my biggest desire, it has always been my biggest desire."
Madara's words were like a balm to the tension in the room. The shards of the Iron Throne lay scattered around him, a stark reminder of the fragility of power. "But to achieve peace, we must first address the root of the chaos: the Iron Throne itself!"
The room remained silent as Madara continued, his gaze shifting to each face before returning to the shattered throne. "We shall melt these swords into a new throne, one that represents unity and peace, not the blood of the conquered. A throne forged by the will of the people, not by the fires of war!"
The proposal was met with a mix of awe and skepticism. The Iron Throne was a symbol of the very essence of the realm, the embodiment of power that had existed for centuries. To suggest its destruction and rebirth was a radical notion that shook the very foundations of the Seven Kingdoms.
Margaery stepped forward, her gaze meeting Madara's fiery red eye. She could see the determination in his gaze, the unshakeable belief in his vision for a better Westeros. "Madara, if this is truly your wish, we of House Tyrell will stand beside you in forging this new era of peace and unity. But what of the Lannisters?"
Madara's eyes flicked to Jamie and Cersei, who were both watching him with a mix of anger and uncertainty. "Your fate is not for me to decide. You shall be judged by the council we will form. A council that represents every region of the Seven Kingdoms, where each voice holds equal weight. No longer will the Iron Throne be a symbol of fear, but one of justice and unity!"
The room was still, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Cersei's fury was barely contained, her eyes narrowed into slits, while Jamie's expression was unreadable. The Dornish soldiers held their ground, watching the unfolding drama with the detached gaze of men who had seen too much war.
Margaery's heart was racing. This was an opportunity she had not anticipated. If Madara truly sought peace, they could work together to stabilize the realm.
"We accept your proposal, Madara Uchiha. House Tyrell will stand with you in creating this new council. Let us bring an end to the cycle of violence and begin anew, with the welfare of the common folk as our highest priority," she declared, her voice ringing with hope.
Madara nodded solemnly, his crimson gaze never leaving hers. The room remained tense, the air thick with uncertainty and the scent of burnt metal. The shards of the Iron Throne glinted in the torchlight, a stark reminder of the power struggle that had brought them to this moment.
"First, we will have a change of rules."
Madara's voice was as firm as the stones of the castle walls, his Sharingan eye seeming to bore into the hearts of those present. "The council will be comprised of wise and just individuals, chosen not by birthright, but by their merits and the trust of the people they represent. This council will decide the fate of the realm and its rulers, not a single man with a crown forged in blood and fire."
Olenna's sharp gaze took in the scene, her mind racing with the implications of this radical proposal. "And who will lead this council?" she asked, her voice carrying the weight of the question. Madara turned to her, a flicker of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Olenna Tyrell, are you up for the position?"
The question hung in the air like a sword over a condemned man's neck. Madara's gaze was unwavering, challenging her to take on the responsibility that came with such power.
Olenna Tyrell looked back at him, her eyes as sharp as the thorns for which she was named. "To lead such a council would require a leader of unparalleled wisdom and strength, someone who knows the true cost of war and the value of peace. Is that truly what you wish for me, Madara Uchiha?"
"I think you understand that better than anyone in this realm."
Madara's reply was simple, but it contained a world of meaning. The room held its breath as Olenna considered his words. She had seen the horrors of war firsthand, had felt the pain of loss and the burden of duty. To her, peace was not just a word, but a desperate need for the future of her house and the realm she loved.
Finally, she spoke. "Very well, Madara Uchiha. House Tyrell will support this council. But beware, we do not grant our trust easily. You must prove yourself worthy of this power you seek to wield for the good of the realm. The Iron Throne's legacy is a heavy chain to break, and the shackles of fear it has bound us with are not easily forgotten."
Her words were met with a nod from Madara, acknowledging the gravity of the task ahead. "Oberyn, gather the lords and ladies of the realm. We shall begin the selection process immediately. I want the best and the brightest, those who will not be swayed by gold or fear, but by the good of the people and the future of Westeros. This council will be the foundation upon which we build our new world order!"
The Red Viper's eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he turned to leave the room, a silent nod to his sister's memory. As he disappeared into the shadows, Madara turned to Margaery. "Lady Tyrell, your support is invaluable. Your grace and diplomacy will be crucial in uniting the realm behind this cause. Will you stand with me, as the face of this new order?"
Margaery took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. The fate of her house, her people, and possibly the entire realm rested on her answer. She knew the risks, the potential backlash from the Lannisters, the doubt that would surely arise from the other great houses. Yet, she also saw the opportunity for a new beginning, one that could end the wars and suffering that had plagued the land for too long.
"Madara Uchiha, I stand with you," she said, her voice clear and firm. "But know that this path is fraught with danger. To be the face of a new order is to be the target of every dissenting arrow."
The room was still, the only sound the crackling of the torches. Madara nodded, his crimson gaze never leaving hers. "I am aware of the risks. Yet, together, we can be the change Westeros needs."
With that, he turned to the shattered throne. The heat from the flaming swords was intense, the metal hissing as it cooled. He reached out, his hand hovering over the shards. The fire of his Sharingan flickered, and suddenly, the metal began to melt and coalesce into a new form. The shards melded together, the flames shaping them into a new throne. This one had no sharp edges, no swords to remind of the blood that had been spilled. It was a throne of unity and peace.
The room was silent as Madara took his seat, the molten metal cooling beneath him. The new throne was a stark contrast to the one that had stood here moments before. The crimson light of his Sharingan faded, and the room was cast in the flickering light of the torches once more.
"I can use brute force to get what I want, but…. That would make the common folk hate me…."
Madara's thoughts drifted to his own past, a time of endless wars and suffering. His journey to Westeros had not been one of conquest, but of seeking a place to bring peace. He knew that true power was not in the ability to destroy, but in the capacity to build and unite.
"Let this be a symbol of our commitment to a new beginning," he announced to the stunned audience. "A throne not of swords, but of unity and peace. A throne that we will all share in the governance of this realm.
Margaery watched him, her mind racing. Madara was indeed a master strategist, but could he truly be the savior he claimed to be? The room was a tableau of shock and confusion, the only sound the crackling of the cooling metal.
"Now, back to my rules." Madara's voice echoed through the chamber, the shimmering light from the newly formed throne reflecting off the stunned faces of the lords and ladies present. He turned to the Lannister siblings, his eyes narrowing. "Your fate shall be decided by this council. You will be held accountable for the crimes of your house. For now, you remain my guests, but do not mistake this for mercy. It is a strategic move, nothing more. The same goes for House Tyrell. Your support is crucial, but I expect loyalty beyond mere words. Prove to me that you stand for what is just and right, and together we can forge a realm where the power lies not in the hands of a few, but in the collective will of the people."
The room remained silent, the gravity of his words sinking in. The alliances and betrayals that had shaped the very fabric of Westeros were now being challenged by a man from another world. The tension grew palpable as Madara's gaze swept over the assembly, daring anyone to speak against him.
"My first rule as a King is; the right to be able to choose a partner, not through alliances, but love."
The room buzzed with whispers as Madara's words sank in. This was not a man who sought power for power's sake, but a visionary with a radical concept of governance that shook the very foundations of the feudal society they lived in.
Cersei's eyes flashed with anger and fear. The thought of being judged by a council of equals was a foreign concept to her, a stark contrast to the iron-fisted rule she had grown accustomed to under her father. Meanwhile, Jamie remained stoic, his mind racing with the potential consequences of this new political landscape.
"Second rule; the age of consent; for man it will be 16 years of age and for woman it will be 18 years of age."
Mutters of disbelief rippled through the room. Such a decree was unheard of in a world where marriages were political tools, often arranged in infancy. Madara's proposal was not just a challenge to the status quo, it was a declaration of a new age.
Olenna Tyrell stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and calculation. "Madara Uchiha, you speak of a world that sounds almost... Utopian."
Madara's gaze was unwavering. "I speak of a world that is possible, Lady Olenna. One where the strong do not prey on the weak, and where the Iron Throne does not rule through fear alone."
The room was a tapestry of emotions, from anger to hope. Some lords and ladies muttered darkly among themselves, others looked to the new throne with a spark of curiosity. Madara knew that changing the very fabric of Westeros would not be easy, but he was determined to see it through.
He turned to Margaery, her eyes reflecting the flickering light of the torches. "Lady Tyrell, as the first act of this new council, I ask that you join me in announcing these new laws to the people of King's Landing. Your grace and compassion will be vital in helping them understand the necessity of these changes."
Margaery nodded, her heart a mix of excitement and apprehension. This was a chance to truly make a difference, to bring peace to the realm. Yet, she knew that the path ahead was fraught with danger and opposition.
"Third rule; Criminals. They will be judged by the people; the victims to be more specific."
Madara's voice was firm, his intentions clear. He had seen the injustice of a system that allowed the powerful to manipulate laws to their advantage. This new rule was a declaration that the days of such impunity were over.
Margaery took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. This was not just a political maneuver; it was a declaration of a new world order, one that could either lead to a golden age of peace or a bloody battle for power. She knew that the path to true justice was fraught with danger, but she also knew that doing nothing would only perpetuate the cycle of suffering.
With a nod to Madara, she stepped forward, her voice ringing out through the chamber. "Hear ye, hear ye! By the power vested in us by the will of the people, we hereby declare these new laws to take effect immediately. Let them be known far and wide, from the high towers of the Red Keep to the humblest of hovels in the city below!"
The crowd erupted into a cacophony of whispers and murmurs. The concept of a council governing the Seven Kingdoms, rather than a single ruler on the Iron Throne, was unprecedented. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there was a flicker of hope in the eyes of many.
Jaime, however, remained stoic, his mind racing with the implications of Madara's words. His sister Cersei was seething, her eyes locked on Madara with a mix of anger and fear. "You dare to speak of justice, after what you have done to our house?" she spat, her voice laced with venom.
"Who gave you the right to speak?" Madara asked.
"Madara, let's not forget our manners in the heat of the moment," Margaery interjected, her voice calm yet firm. She knew that antagonizing the Lannisters further would only lead to disaster.
"Oh yes. I almost forgot. Bring me Tyrion Lannister."
The room fell silent at the mention of the dwarf's name. Madara's expression was unreadable, but the tension in the air grew palpable as the soldiers moved to carry out his order. The whispers grew louder, the anticipation almost tangible as everyone waited for Tyrion's entrance.
When he appeared, his chains rattling, the room held its breath. His eyes searched for his sister and found hers, filled with a mix of anger and fear. Madara studied him intently, his gaze a silent challenge.
"Tyrion Lannister, the council has heard of your wit and wisdom. You have been a voice of reason in a house of lions. What say you about our proposal for a council of equals?"
Tyrion's eyes searched the room, finding a mix of skepticism and curiosity. He had seen the chaos that could come from a council-ruled realm, but he had also felt the crushing weight of tyranny. With a heavy heart, he stepped forward.
"Madara Uchiha, your ideas are... refreshing, to say the least. But how do you propose to enforce these laws? How will you ensure that the council does not become as corrupt and power-hungry as the rulers who came before?" His voice was measured, the weight of his words echoing in the vast chamber.
"I'm not the type to believe in fate, but if someone dares to ruin the peace I want to build, death is the only thing that awaits them."
Madara's words sent a shiver down the spine of everyone present. His intentions were clear, and his willingness to enforce them was not a mere threat. Tyrion met his gaze, the wheels in his head turning as he considered the implications of such a council.
"Very well, Madara Uchiha. I will lend my support to this council, but I demand a place within it. I have seen the horrors of war and the folly of unbridled power. I wish to ensure that our new system does not succumb to the same vices that plagued the old."
"I understand. As of today, you will be the Head of House Lannister. Casterly Rock belongs to you."
Madara's words were as surprising as they were calculated. Cersei's rage had not dissipated, but she could not ignore the strategic brilliance of his move. To have a council member with Lannister blood could be a powerful tool for maintaining peace within the fractured realm.
"You accept?" Madara's gaze never left Tyrion's, the weight of the question as heavy as the shackles that had once bound him.
Tyrion nodded, his mind racing with the implications. "I do. But know this, I serve the realm and its people, not a throne of swords or a man who would claim to be a god. If your intentions are true, I will be your most steadfast ally. If they are not, I will be your most formidable opponent."
Madara's smile was cold and calculated. "That is all I ask for. Now, let us proceed with the formation of this council. The fate of the Seven Kingdoms rests in our hands, and we must not fail."
The room buzzed with a mix of excitement and trepidation as lords and ladies from across Westeros began to arrive, summoned by the call for unity. The Great Hall of the Red Keep was ablaze with torches and candles, the light reflecting off the gleaming armor of the guards and the jewels adorning the nobility. The new throne of unity stood tall, a stark reminder of the changes to come.
As the council gathered, Madara took his seat, his Sharingan eye a constant reminder of his unyielding resolve. The representatives from each region sat around the round table, their faces a canvas of skepticism and hope. The air was thick with anticipation, the whispers of alliances and opposition hushed for now.
Olenna took her place, her sharp gaze sweeping over the assembly. "We are here to forge a new future," she announced, her voice carrying the authority of a woman who had survived countless battles in the game of thrones. "We stand on the precipice of change, and it is our duty to ensure that the steps we take are wise and just."
The room was a sea of nodding heads and murmured agreement, the flaming torches casting flickering shadows across the ancient stones. Madara's proposal of a council of equals was radical, yet it resonated with a deep hunger within the hearts of many who had suffered under the tyranny of the Iron Throne.
Margaery could feel the weight of her decision to support Madara. She knew that the road ahead was fraught with danger and potential betrayal. Yet, as she took her seat beside him, she felt a strange sense of purpose that had been lacking in her previous role as a mere pawn in the Lannisters' games.
The council members, chosen from the most esteemed and trustworthy individuals across the Seven Kingdoms, began to discuss the implementation of the new laws. Madara listened intently, his gaze flicking from one face to the next, assessing their reactions and motives.
Margaery's heart pounded as she watched the unfolding scene. Madara's proposal was indeed radical, but the hunger for change was palpable in the room. She knew that she had made a risky choice in supporting him, but the hope of a peaceful future for her people was worth the gamble.
Olenna took the floor, her words as sharp as the thorns that adorned her house's sigil. "We must proceed with caution. While the concept of a council is appealing, we must ensure that power does not simply shift from the hands of one tyrant to many. The Iron Throne has a way of corrupting even the purest of hearts."
Madara nodded, understanding her skepticism. "Fear not, Lady Olenna. The council will be bound by a set of rules that prevents any one member from becoming too powerful. Each member will hold veto rights, ensuring that decisions are made with the good of the realm in mind, not the desires of the few. The council's power lies in unity, not domination. And should any member act against the interest of the realm, they shall be stripped of their position and face the justice of the people they have sworn to serve."
The room grew quiet again, the clanging of metal and murmurs of the guards outside the only sounds that broke the silence. The lords and ladies exchanged glances, weighing the power they held in their hands. It was a delicate balance, a dance of power that could lead to either harmony or chaos.
Margaery spoke up, her voice clear and strong. "We must also consider the faith of the people in this new council. Trust is not easily earned, especially after the tumult we have seen. We must show them that we are not just words, but actions that will bring them peace and prosperity."
Madara nodded in agreement. "Indeed, we must start with the most critical issues, such as ending the wars, addressing the needs of the common folk, and restoring the balance of power to the realm. The council's first act will be to declare an end to the hostilities between Dorne and the Iron Throne, and to offer reparations to the families affected by the Lannisters' cruelty in the past. This is not just a symbolic gesture, but a concrete step towards reconciliation and unity."
The room buzzed with whispers as the implications of such an act of diplomacy sank in. Madara's proposal was not just a vision; it was a promise of action that could heal the deep wounds left by years of strife and oppression.
"Furthermore, we must address the issue of food shortages and the plight of the smallfolk. The wars have left our lands barren, and it is our duty to ensure that no man, woman, or child goes to bed hungry. The crown's resources will be distributed fairly, and we will encourage trade and agriculture to flourish once more. House Tyrell's expertise in this area will be invaluable, Lady Margaery," Madara said, turning to her with a nod of respect.
Margaery felt the burden of responsibility settle upon her shoulders. Her heart swelled with both pride and fear. Could they truly pull this off? Could a council of diverse interests come together to serve the greater good?
The council members broke into smaller groups, each discussing the potential reforms with a mix of excitement and skepticism. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink as scribes scurried about, documenting every word spoken. The Tyrells, Dorni, and Martells stood united in their support of Madara, their whispers filled with strategies for the realm's rebirth. Meanwhile, the Lannister loyalists clustered together, their faces a mask of anger and uncertainty.
And thus, the seeds of a new order were planted in the very heart of the Red Keep. The council members, once sworn enemies, now sat as equals around the round table, their discussions a stark contrast to the echoes of war that still haunted the castle's halls. Madara's presence was a constant reminder of the power that had brought them to this point, yet his demeanor was not that of a conqueror but of a leader seeking to heal a broken land.
"A new era begins now!"
The proclamation echoed through the Great Hall, the words ringing with a mix of hope and trepidation. Madara stood, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, watching as the lords and ladies of Westeros slowly began to disperse, each lost in their thoughts. The council had been formed, the alliances forged, and the stage was set for the greatest political shift the realm had ever seen.
End of Chapter 3.