2,007A/N: Sorry for vanishing. That ending for House of the Dragon absolutely broke me. Yet here I stand. Looking forward to your feedback!
From a strictly detached perspective, they were some aspects of the Finale I enjoyed, some I did not, and others that left me scratching my head. Whatever the reason, whatever the costs, this season SHOULD have been a full ten episodes, not a measly eight, and as a result, the last episode, for all its ambition and grandstanding, suffered for it. They'd could've begun the attack on King's Landing -would've been quite way to end the season- but nooo we didn't get that.
Sheepstealer did look amazing, however.
I wanted to like the final episode, I did and I don't hold it against anyone who enjoyed it, I'm just afraid of HOTD may be going the way of GOT at large. Hopefully it won't come to that...
In any case, life has kept me away, but I have returned, spurred on by all your feedback. Reviews keeps me writing, looking forward to chatting with you all~! If by some miracle this chapter gets a ton of feedback-unlikely, but possible, given its well past 1,100 already-I'll do my best to update early, possibly even weekly as I am with other stories. Until then, I'll be updating other things.
No questions this time, we've got a lot of ground to cover! I wanted this to feel like a proper Game of Thrones episode! Hopefully I succeeded~!
Alright, I've kept you waiting long enough, methinks. Enough of this old man's rambling; you're here for a story. Hope you're prepared for the chaos to come. Once more, I own no references, quotes, memes or themes. Not a wit or a one. Nope. They're simply tributes to legends far greater than I.
Lastly, a reminder to one and all. Naruto's Westerosi name remains Nathaniel.
Joanna prefers to call him Naruto, yet she's the only one who truly does.
Timeline is still a little skewed here, but hey, that makes things...fun.
References and verbatim from Game of Thrones below:
I finally get to write Jaime again. Its been too long!
Lannister sass incoming!
"I!
Am!
RETURNED!
~?
Hatch a Plot
Aerys was wroth.
Jaime had never seen him this furious before; not in all the years since he'd become a Kingsguard. This recent spat frightened him more than he cared to admit, if only because no one knew what had set him off today. It was always something, be it the merest word or the slightest glance, the slightest tough more than enough to set him into a downward spiral.
Today was the worst he'd seen him yet. Ranting and raving and raging, he paced before the Iron Throne, one sleeve flapping loosely behind him like some sad banner. Shame they hadn't taken his, too leg, perhaps then he might be spared of this incessant pacing. The king had been itching himself greatly as of late flaying himself bloody scratching. If he wasn't cutting himself upon the throne; he was suffering beneath this mysterious malady and his madness besides.
"It's all his fault! I know it is! That blasted lion!"
Jaime listened with half an ear as the king droned on.
He imagined himself home at Casterly Rock with his family. Gods, it had been so long since he'd seen Tyrion. He must be walking and talking now. Would he even recognize him? Nathaniel and Cersei were probably having their own adventures, and Father had been kind enough to keep him appraised of both. Nathaniel was off fostering in the North while Cersei was entertaining a suitor from the Stormlands. He didn't want to be jealous of them, really, he didn't, but they were living their lives while HE-
"Lannister! Come here!"
Bugger.
He shuffled toward the Iron Throne, just in time to see Aerys lever himself off it. He'd cut himself again, judging by the bloody knicks visible through his robe.
The king was...well, he was a mess frankly. Didn't smell much better either. Truly man looked twice his age, disheveled and unkempt, his fingernails grown long and yellow and crooked, those rheumy violet eyes bloodshot and stained with milk of the poppy for his pain.
Pity it did nothing for his temper.
"You know who did this to me, don't you?! Its that blasted brother of yours, isn't it?!" trembling fingers bit into his wrist. "He cost me my arm; perhaps I should take one of your hands and send it to him!"
Horror flashed through him, brutally suppressed.
Calm. He wants to see fear. Don't show him any and he'll lost interest.
...if that is your wish, my King."
Aerys granted him a snaggle-toothed grin. "You hate me, don't you?"
Don't answer. Don't give him what he wants. Do NOT respond to him. "...I don't."
Damnit!
"Yes, you do." a gnarled finger jabbed into his cheek, cutting him. "I can see it in your eyes."
Jaime saw the bleak, blackened bait for what it was and refused to throw himself on the hook beneath.
"Do it, then. Strike me down." Aerys cackled at him, seemingly embracing his own peril. "Free from this frail mortal shell, and I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine!"
It burned. Not just the words, but the knowledge of his own powerlessness. He could strike the King down, but his life would be forfeit in the attempt. Even should he succeed, he would surely die. No father, no mother, no Cersei, nor Nathaniel, nor Tyrion. That would be the end of him. Dead and done destroyed, to say nothing of his reputation. He knew what they would call him.
Kingslayer.
Oathbreaker.
Man without honor.
Yet would that not be worth it?
His hands clenched at his sides, fingers curling into fists.
"Do it, Jaime." he could almost imagine Cersei's voice, whispering in his ear. "Think of how many innocent lives you could save. Be the hero you were always meant to be. Kill the king."
He raised his right hand-
"Your son was asking for you, my king." A new voice interjected behind him.
Pivoting, he beheld Ser Barristan Selmy striding forth, helmet tucked under one arm.
"Rhaegar?" those rheumy eyes looked past him for a moment. "Blast it all, what's that boy want now?!"
"I cannot claim to know, your grace." Selmy bowed at the waist. "He said it was most urgent."
Aerys released him with a huff. "Blasted boy's worse than Viserys, can't go a day without me...
Muttering to himself, the Mad King scurried away. Was it just his imagination, or was the man limping? No, he most certainly was. Shambling on his right leg. Perhaps the "infection" had spread to his lower torso at long last.
As if fate would be so kind.
Turning to face Barristan, he gave the older man a not-so-shallow nod. "Thank you."
"You are most welcome." his fellow Kingsguard granted him one in return. His gaze strayed back to the the Iron Throne with a sigh. "It pains me to see him like this. He was a good man, once."
Was he?
Jaime bit his tongue as Barristan bulled on, blind to his inner turmoil. "Rhaegar will do better, regardless."
The son of a mad dragon, blind to his father's faults, a rogue who sang on the streets and who devoted himself to prophecies? Not bloody well likely.
This time, he couldn't hold himself back. "Will he?"
Barristan glanced his way. "If you've something to say, say it."
"What's the old saying?" Jaime cocked his head, struggling with a sneer for a moment. "Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin?" he snapped his fingers. "That's the one. Who's to say where Rhaegar's will land? For all we know, he might be worse than his father."
Barristan bristled. "You speak treason, ser."
"Do I? Now, maybe Aerys was sane once, good once upon a time," he amended at the knight's frown, "Lets not play pretend. We both know those days are long past. Whatever, whomever he was then, that man is dead. A ghost roams the halls, wearing his face." Glowering but a little, he massaged his sword hand, painfully aware of just how close he'd come to losing it. "What happens when he demands your hand, hmm?" his head tilted his way, considering his sword arm. "Will you give it gladly?"
Barristan hesitated. "If you so dislike the King, then why swear your oath at all?"
Something dark and ugly unfurled in Jaime's gut.
Why? As though everyone didn't know.
As if it wasn't so damn obvious.
Bloody noble idiots.
"Because he wanted to hurt my family!" he bit the words off in a silent snarl before they could escalate into a shout. "Me, my mother, my father my brothers and my sister! All of us! He nearly succeeded the first time and he would've kept trying too, if he didn't feel he had a Lannister in hand."
Barristan the Bold didn't look so bold now. His face was ashen, his once healthy pallor reduced to a wan grey.
"This may be an honor for you Ser Barristan, a duty for you, but not me. I'm the older brother. I took this burden so spare mine.
Barristan bridled anew. "A Kingsguard forswears such bonds."
"And I have," Jaime effortlessly lied through his teeth, "But my reason for doing it remains the same."
Irked by the man's so-called "honor", he decided to twist the proverbial knife just a little.
"My father was Hand of the King for years, as you well know. The things he told me," this time he didn't have to repress a shiver, because he had seen some of those horrors himself. "His "grace" has only worsened since Duskendale. You know what he is as well as I. He's gone mad."
For a moment, he dared to hope he'd broken through to the man. And then. "It is not our place to question the king. You will speak no more of this."
His peace said, the elder knight pivoted upon one heel and stalked away, leaving him to stew.
Jaime rubbed his wrist once more and released a deep, exasperated breath.
This couldn't go on much longer.
Something had to give.
(.0.0.0.)
"What in the seven hells are we doing way out here?"
Nymeria ignored The Hound and kept walking, pausing only to peel back and duck under a low-hanging treebranch. The big brute didn't see it coming and walked headlong into it with an audible crack and damn near came crashing down, much to her amusement. It was the little things that sustained a girl in such a cold, boring climate as these.
"Oi! Watch where you're going!"
"A girl knows where she is going." she sang back. "A Hound follows."
"Aye?" he glared her, no less fearsome despite his healed visage. "And where's that?"
"A girl will tell you when she gets there."
She kept walking, and at length, heard him stomp after her. "Lannister won't be happy about this...
"This is not for the Master. This is for his Lady. If he is to have a Dragon-
"Egg still hasn't hatched yet, you little shit-
-then she must have a companion worthy of her." she finished without missing a beat. "A girl brings a Hound because the night is dark and full of terrors."
"For the love of...! He shuddered a little, sparing a sudden glance for the trees. "You sound like the Red Woman. Do you have to phrase it like that?
Nymeria tilted her head. Interesting. He feared the dark almost as much as he did the fire."
"A girl did not think a Hound was afraid of Grumkins and Snarks."
"M'not," Sandor muttered under his breath. "Gimme something to swing a sword at any day. I'm no good at tracking shite."
The Hound did not understand. But he would soon.
There. An inent in the dirt, a mark in the mud.
Wolf tracks...!
Nymeria knew them well.
The former faceless girl knelt low to inspect them and ran her hand over them. Fresh. Not even an hour old. They were on the right track.
An eager look flashed across her smooth face, wild and intent.
She was close now. She knew it. Grinning, she ran into the undergrowth.
The Hound trekked on after her with a sigh. "You and that Lannsiter are gonna be the death of me...
(.0.0.0.)
Cersei wasn't happy.
No matter how gently Mother brushed her hair or how sweetly she sang to her, she simply couldn't master her temper tonight.
To her credit, she had a reason to be cross; she had entertained Robert Baratheon and his visits for the better part of a year now without complain. The boy was clearly smitten by her. Head over heels, really. Downright besotted. And while that made her feel good. She wasn't sure the same could be said toward him. He didn't quite have the debonair charm or sass of her brothers...and wasn't that a little worrying?
She said as much to Mother. "I miss Nathaniel and Jaime."
"Not Jaime and Nathaniel?" Joanna tutted, teasing her. "Oh, dear."
Despite her best efforts, the ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Very funny." It faded a moment later as she contemplated her fate. "Is this Father's plan then? To wed me off to the largest keep he can find? Is that all he cares for?"
Her brothers were off having grand adventures of their own and she was here being...a...a...no. She dare not say it.
She winced as the brush caught a snag.
"We need allies, darling."
Cersei blew out a sigh. "Allies are all well and good but-ow!" Another blasted snag! "Would you have me marry a man I feel so little for merely to gain more?"
"My sweet summer child, that's not the case at all...
Wasn't it? She was Father's only daughter so of course he'd use her to gain alliances.
Just thinking of made her face twist in displeasure. "I am a Lannister, not some broodmare."
"Dearest, I never said you were...
Cersei huffed and crossed both arms beneath her breasts, refusing to look at her. To her credit, Mother kept brushing her hair, undaunted by this burst of anger, and after a moment, spoke again. "If you truly crave a proper match, then seek out a lordling who pleases you and present him to your father."
"But what if I don't want to marry?"
Joanna chuckled. "You may say that now, but you may change your mind once your discover the more...pleasurable aspects of marriage."
"Wait," Cersei tried to crane her neck away from the mirror and look at her, but Mother wasn't having it; a gentle poke in the neck steered her back as she kept brushing. "Is that why father sent Nathaniel to the North in the first place? To woo the Stark bitch?"
"To protect your brother as well." Mother tapped the back of her head with the comb. "Also, language. You've not even met the poor girl."
She hunched her shoulders, gripped her dress, and refused to look at her. "Anyone who isn't us is the enemy.
"Wrong." she flicked her forehead. "That kind of attitude will see you end up like the Mad King."
She winced, but pressed on with a sullen mutter of her own. "But Father would like such a match for Nathaniel, wouldn't he?"
"Perhaps," Mother tutted, "But he's also entertaining offers from Dorne."
Cersei reeled, and not from anger. Mother meant Elia Martell. But if Nathaniel was already wooing the Star girl that meant...two wives? Or would Elia be a consort?"
Perhaps sensing her confusion, Joanna tutted and patted her head. "We both know the customs of Dorne are a tad more…flexible than ours."
Cersei's face warmed with a rosy flush. That was putting it most mildly!
Truth be told she...didn't know how to feel about all this. Nathaniel was the heir now -Jaime hadn't wanted it even before he swore himself to the Kingsguard-but she didn't like all these hussies clawing at him. Even now the wolf and the serpent circled the lion, each waiting for a chance to sink their teeth deep.
A strange, foreign feeling clawed at her breast at the thought and bile rose in her throat.
Worse still, there was the matter of those odd letters her brother wrote, though to whom he wrote, of whom she knew not but Father had forbade her to speak of them...
Mother's voice tugged her back to reality. "We have a great many enemies both within and without, those who would gladly tear us down. Remember what nearly happened to your uncle Kevan?"
Cersei nodded. Yes, she remembered the ambush on the road. He'd barely escaped with his life. Such was the reason she wasn't allowed to leave Casterly Rock without her guards; the Westerlands were no longer safe as they had once been. There was even talk of her visiting the Stormlands, which may well become her new home if Father had his say...
She clenched her fists and grit her teeth. "Did you love Father, at first?"
"Oh, yes." Joanna flashed her a small serene smile, the very picture of courtly grace. "Ever since I was but a girl. It's quite the tale."
Cersei wanted that. She craved it more than anything else in the world. The power to command with merely a glance, to hold others in thrall with but a smile. Although she couldn't wield a sword like Nathaniel and Jaime just yet-she most certainly planned to learn!-learning at Mother's side was just as important. She could teach her things they couldn't after all."
And so she nodded, eager to learn. "Please, I want to learn."
"Alright." Mother leaned back, idly draping both arms around her, her voice taking on the practiced lilt of a storyteller. "But to truly understand how we came to be, we must go back to the beginning." an almost nostalgic sigh escaped her lips. "I loved Tywin the moment I laid eyes on him; I often followed him from afar. He was younger back then of course, as was I, but he was so terribly focused on the family, undoing his father's many mistakes and the like."
Cersei nodded. "The Rains of Castamere."
Mother's smile became sad for a moment, as though she were recalling something terribly fond and sad. "Yes. There's more to that story, but that is a tale for another time. Now where was...? Ah, yes. Your father showed no interest in the fairer sex at the time, so it fell to me to seduce him."
"You seduced him?!" Cersei gasped, secretly shocked and delighted all at once. How scandalous. She loved it!
"Oh, yes." Mother touched a hand to her cheek, more than happy to feed her curiosity. "There was talk of him marrying some Targaryen hussy, you see. Only rumors of course, but at the time, it was the talk of the realm. I didn't much like that. Neither did he, really, but at the time he was rather blind to my affection. And I unwittingly caught the eye of another dragon...the king.
Cersei gasped. "No!"
"Yes!" Joanna preened. "Aerys was rather handsome himself back then and not at all the monster he is today. His madness changed him and not for the better. Remember that, dear girl. Just because you think you know someone doesn't mean they'll be that person.
Cersei balked, all thoughts of brushing her hair long forgotten. "You could've been a queen!"
"Mayhaps you're right." There it was, the small, strange sadness in Mother's smile again. "I could have been queen of the Seven Kingdoms if I'd said the word, but I did not wish it, little dove. And in hindsight I am glad I chose another." She drew her close and kissed her forehead. "If I had married Aerys, you and your brothers never would've been born."
Or they might've been princes and princesses, but Cersei saw her point and subsided with a sigh.
"Still," Mother clicked her tongue and leaned back into her. "Poor, poor Rhaella...she had no idea what she was getting into...
She knew that name; it belonged to the current Queen. An awful thought occurred to her. "Was she the one that might've married Father?"
Mother smiled and did not answer, leaving her to guess. Perhaps she was. Perhaps she wasn't. Cersei hadn't exactly studied the Targaryen histories, but didn't their kind die of unusual circumstances all the time? Half of them went mad, after all, didn't they? She vaguely remembered Nathaniel taking a great interest in such genealogies-no, wait! She was getting distracted.
"That still doesn't explain how you pierced Father's heart of stone."
"And what a heart of stone it was!" Mother laughed. "I had to go at it with a chisel, bit by bit, piece by piece. A word here, a touch there, a caress when he least expected it. Small things, tiny things, little acts that no one would take notice individually, but over time, built up, until finally...
Cersei leaned into her with bated breath. "Finally...?"
Here at last, Mother's smile gained an edge.
"It was a dark, stormy night, when I crept into your lord father's chamber." Joanna began in the most smug of undertones, "I had to sneak in, you see, for he had his quarters guarded at all times. There he lay on the bed, dead to the world...until I woke him with a kiss, pinned him to the bed with my hips, hitched up my gown and-
Cersei shrieked and flailed her hands wildly, face flaming red in a fiery flush. "MOTHER!" And then, more quietly, "You really hunted him down?"
"As a lioness would a stag." She whispered, eliciting an incredulous giggle from her lips at the analogy. "The rest, as you well know, is history. Do you understand the moral of this story now, my sweet?" reaching out, she took her chin in hand and forced her to look her way. "In this life, if you desire something, you must reach out, take hold of it with both hands, and never, ever let it go. Take pleasure from the good things in life when you can, where you can. To not do so is to live a life full of regret."
She nodded once; she would remember those words, keep them deep in her heart, and hold them close, always.
"Good girl." Perhaps sensing her rising resolve, Mother nudged her. "And now that we've finished our little story, perhaps you should look in on Tyrion. He misses his brothers."
A pout swept over her lips. "Must I?"
Joanna pinched her side. "You're all he has at the moment, dearest. He's lonely."
"He's a dwarf!"
"Yes, but he may not be one forever."
...what in the seven hells did that mean?
Nathaniel's work no doubt. Her brother was ever the meddler.
Realizing her Mother wouldn't yield, Cersei drew herself up with a huff. "...very well, If I must."
It wasn't hard to leave her sitting room and find Tyrion's chambers; they was just past Nathaniel's own quarters -she liked to sleep there sometimes when she had nightmares while he was away- but finding the door and opening it proved another matter entirely.
She should. She had to. She must.
He fingers closed around the handle as she took a deep breath and-
Someone shoved it open and little blur hit her knees.
"Sister!"
Urk.
Cersei felt her heart wrench even as she stumbled, reflexively catching herself on a nearby wall.
Her first reflex was to scowl, but somehow, she mastered herself. "Hello, little brother."
Tyrion drew back, beaming. "Its been so long since you came to visit! Would you like to see my books?"
He was a dwarf. There was no skirting around that. He'd nearly killed Mother to come into this world, very well would've were it not for Nathaniel working his mysterious magics. Small wonder the Maesters wanted him gone. Perhaps had Tyrion taken Mother's life she might well feel strongly about this.
But he was a dwarf, and he looked so...!
Lannister. For an awful moment, she could've sworn she felt a terrible, invisible weight press down upon her shoulders. You swore to us.
Cersei shivered. She had sworn on her blood, hadn't she? To the Old Gods and the New. To be better, and not just to Nathaniel.
Taking a deep breath, she crouched down and drew young Tyrion in her arms. "...yes. I'd like that very much."
Maybe it wouldn't be so hard. After all, Tyrion loved her. He was family. How could she possibly hate him?
Wherever he was, she prayed Nathaniel was having a better time of things than her.
(.0.0.0.)
No more.
Naruto awoke in a cold sweat, guts gripping in the dark, words ringing in his ears. Who...?
No...more!
Where was that voice coming from?
NO! MORE!
Exasperated, he tore himself free beneath the heavy fur blankets, snapped his fingers and conjured a small spark of chakra flame, one he flung hastily into the hearth. It struck the dry logs there and sprang to life, basking the room in fiery glow. Shadows flickered across his face, summarily ignored as he squinted about in search of the commotion.
Because then, you see, he saw the Egg.
It was violently rocking to and fro where he'd let it lay; tucked into a corner, swaddled among a great many heavy blankets for warmth. Now, basking in the light of the fire seemed almost to strengthen the crimson shell somehow; whatever was nestled within began making muffled noises of angry outrage as it tried to tear its way free.
Again?! It had only been a year since it tried to hatch! Was the little bugger that determined to be free?
"Really?" he muttered under his breath, "You just have to make things difficult, don't you?"
The egg thrashed violently anew.
Striding over, he crouched down and laid a hand against its scarlet surface. Something thumped against his palm, etching a fine fracture against the doughty shell. It really was trying to hatch for real this time, wasn't it? What manner of magic was at work here? He didn't pretend to know. Blasted red woman. Wherever she was, Melisandre was laughing at him, he just knew it. Bloody immortal. If he never saw her again it would be too soon.
Any and all thoughts of the Red Priestess were soon forgotten, however, as those egg fractures splintered and became cracks, fissures, outright chasms now.
It couldn't hatch here. If it did, it would be the talk of Winterfell.
Aerys would know. And once he did...!
Bracing both hands on either side off the egg, he tried to hold the egg together...only to pause now as the presence within began to fade. He could feel the life within flickering, weakening as it struggled to break free and failed. It wanted to hatch, no, it needed to hatch and feed, he realized. Not on chakra, but meat. If he denied it now, it would die.
Logic -or rather, the Lannister in him- said it would be best to let the hatchling die. They didn't need a quarrel with the crown right now.
Yes, let the hatchling perish and the king would lose any and all reason to come after him.
It was logical...
.
..
...he'd never been one to follow logic.
Nathaniel might've let a dragon die, but Naruto never would.
"Screw it," he plonked down before the egg and sat, crossing his legs beneath him. "You'd better be worth all this."
From there, he gave the egg a good hard jab with two fingers and widened one of the crack, the better to provide the hatchling ease of access.
As though waiting for that very gesture, the egg burst.
It did not break like stone, did not shatter like marble, it just...burst. A red claw thrust its way out of near the peak of the egg, followed by another and-
Naruto yelped. "Oi!"
He caught the frantically thrashing egg it before it could tumble out of the blankets and strike the ground, then hastily set it down atop his bed. And well that he did too; because the bloody completely thing burst open as something fiery and feisty clawed its way out to freedom.
On the surface, it looked like some mad blend between the legendary dragons Caraxes and Meleys, with a deep golden spine besides. A vibrant little lizard with scales of gold-on-red, a long horned neck, deep crimson eyes and...nine scaled tails twitching restlessly behind it.
He balked at it for a moment. "Well, damn,"
The hatchling threw its head back and howled to the heavens in a voice like thunder!
"I!
Am!
REBORN!"
The world heard not a thing of this naturally, only the pitiful squeak of a newborn dragon, the first of its kind in over a century.
Not so Naruto.
He heard the words, understood them. They reverberated deep within his mind with an all too familiar tenor, plucking at his heart as though it were the strings of a harp. Because you see, he knew that voice. He hadn't heard it in so long, had nearly forgotten it, but with that cry it all came rushing back.
A lone tear rolled down his cheek. "Kurama...?"
"Of course its me!" the hatchling flapped its wings shrilled at him indignantly. "Who else would it be?! No, wait, don't answer that!" Quick as can be be, he jumped onto him, scaled his chest as though he were the Mountain himself, wound his way around his neck, claimed a perch on his shoulder and glared at him. "Do you have any idea how long I was trapped in that egg?!"
...awhile?"
"AGES!" came the indignant cry! "If it weren't for that Red Woman of yours I'd still be in the Shadow Lands of Asshai! And then, you didn't let me hatch for years! YEARS! I am starving! Bring me meat at once or so help me I will EAT you!"
His head was spinning; it felt as though the very floor would give way beneath him at any moment and send him plummeting into darkness.
"Prove it." he mumbled under his breath, still reeling. "Prove that you're really him, really real, that this isn't a dream."
Kurama arched back with a bemused noise. "Are you sure about that?"
Firming his jaw, he glared at the hatchling that may-or-may-not be his old friend. "Prove it, pipsqueak."
Kurama absolutely hissed."Pipsqueak, am I? Fine! You asked for it. You love ramen, shadow clones were the first real jutsu you ever learned, and when you were a runt you accidentally kissed-
"Alright!" Naruto's thumb and forefinger came down, sealing his muzzle before he could embarrass him further. "I believe you."
"Then gimme some food before I drop dead!"
"How is this even possible-
With an outraged noise, Kurama whipped around, bit down on his right hand, and tore a chunk of flesh free, leaving him to recoil with a hiss.
"Ow!" he glared at him as he gobbled it down and pinched one of his wings. "Was that really necessary?"
Draconic eyes rolled in annoyance. "Hush, you. You'll heal. Now, then! Starving. Give. Food."
"Fiiiine. Here, I've a bit of last night's mutton on the table over here-
Kurama launched himself off him with a demented roar. "Banzai!"
What followed was a massacre. The leftover did not die well.
Naruto left his friend feast, content to watch him for a time and be happy. Hopefully Kurama wouldn't grow too quickly. That the old fox had reincarnated with all nine tails was a cause for hope, but he didn't want to get his up. Right now his friend was vulnerable. Aerys, should he ever learn of of his existence, would stop at nothing to have him. And he wouldn't give him up. They might be able to conceal him for a time beneath Casterly Rock, but sooner or later, he would grow too big and then they'd have to let him loose to forage and feed and once he was seen...
There would be War.
Were there other eggs out there in the lands beyond Westeros, waiting to hatch? Could he hatch them? One dragon was already the medieval equivalent of a nuke, but if they had more...
Hadn't his uncle Gerion Lannister gone off to Old Valyra in search of Brightroar -the family's ancestral Valyrian sword- and dragon eggs? Perhaps he still lived, or-
No, no, no, he chided himself, don't get ahead of yourself, Naruto. Focus on the task at hand.
Still, he had so many questions! How had Kurama found his way to this world before him? How had he wound up in that egg? Melisandre would've said her precious Lord of Light was the reason for their reunion, but even now he didn't quite believe her. There was something more to all this, something he was missing, he just knew it. But what? It tickled his thoughts and drove him mad, to no avail. He supposed there would be time enough for answers later. For now...
"Its not safe for you here."
Kurama lifted his head, idly licking his chops. "I'm well aware. What are your plans?"
"We have to get you back to Casterly Rock."
"Hrrm." he pivoted on his wobbly new wings to face him. "I suppose I'll have a chance to meet your new family, then."
"I daresay they'd very much like to meet you."
Speaking of which, he should probably write to Tywin. Father didn't like surprise.s
Kurama waved his wings and gave him the dragon equivalent of a grin. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"
Naruto sniffled despite himself, nearly choking on his emotions for a moment. "I really did miss you, ya know...
His scaly visage softened. "And I, you."
"Good." he leaned forward to glare at the reincarnated fox. "It was miserable growing up again without you. Leave me again at your peril."
Kurama made a wheezing noise that might've been a laugh, were he human. "I could not. I have tried."
"Cheeky little-
The door latch turned suddenly, without warning.
"Nathaniel?" Lyanna slipped in and closed it quickly behind her, clutching a candle, wearing a thick white shift for warmth. "Are you awake? I wanted to see...oh."
She saw him and froze.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh~!"
Kurama pivoted and trilled once. "Oho? Is this your woman? Or are you still writing letters to the snake and the dragon queen?" He gave him a side-eye look, to which he preened. "Don't look at me like that, you. I was trapped in an egg, not dead. I've heard every word you said from the moment we were reunited and-ACK?!"
"Ohmygoodness!" Lyanna was on him a heartbeat later with a delighted squeal, grinning from ear to ear as she swept him up into her arms. "You're real! You're really, really real! Just look at you!" she babbled happily, heedless of Kurama's startled squawk. "Aren't you a handsome fellow! Did you name him?" She kept babbling, looking between the two of them. "It is a he, isn't he?"
Naruto coughed a laugh.
Kurama's long neck swiveled her way. "I'll thank you not to ask that again if you value your hair."
Though she couldn't understand him, Lyanna sensed his intent all the same. "Definitely a boy! He's so regal! But he needs a name! Every great dragon has one! Let me think a moment...
Naruto leaned back into his chair and let the two oft hem go at it. Really, Lyanna was far too excited about this; once the Mad King learned about Kurama, and he would sooner or later, there could be no hiding something like this forever, there would be war-stop thinking about that.
He shoved the reminder aside with a growl. Then let there be war! He wasn't giving him up. Best to focus on the positives for now.
And then just because he was feeling so giddy...!
"I was thinking Ruby."
Kurama inhaled ominously. "Oi!"
Lyanna beat him to the punch with a click of her tongue as she fussed over his handsome scales. "Nonsense, Nathaniel! He's your dragon, he needs something royal, something people will remember...
The reborn fox reared back with an indignant hiss and nipped Lyanna's arm, causing her to recoil with a yelp. He didn't blame her. Credit where it was due, Lyanna didn't let go; he had to wriggle his way free and hop onto the bed under his own power.
"Kurama." Naruto made it as much a statement as a warning.
Lyanna hummed. "Well, historically, most dragons do have the letter "R" in their name and-oh!" her lively eyes lit up a moment later as she rounded on him, practically vibrating in place. Such a wild northern girl. "Can I say it? I've been studying High Valyrian."
Naruto squinted, utterly at a loss. "Say what, now?"
Kurama puffed out his tiny chest. "You may."
The former waved a hand, curious to see what she was on about.
Lyanna rounded on Kurama with a grin. "Alright, little one. Lets see if you have some fire in you. Dracarys!"
Ohhh that was what she meant. How had he missed that?
Kurama reared back, inhaled anew and...
.
..
...ack! Bleurgh!"
...coughed angrily, expelling a harmless ring of smoke into the air.
"Darn." he hung his head, slightly ashamed at his failure, "This usually doesn't happen to me."
"Poor baby." Lyanna scratched his tiny head. "Don't worry, you'll be flying and roasting your enemies in no time...
Kurama hissed vocally at her. "Damn straight I will...
Lyanna crooned softly, unable to understand him. "You'll do just fine...
Pounding footsteps near the door alerted and alarmed then in equal measure.
"Lyanna!" her father's voice boomed furiously. "Is that you? What are you doing in there?! And at the hour of the wolf no less! Half the castle's been searching for you!"
His daughter winced. "Father, wait-
Naruto blanched; there was no time to hide Kurama, only to step forward and grab him-
Too little, too late.
Lord Rickard Stark burst into the room, blade in hand.
Saw the dragon nestled between him and Lyanna like a long lost child, the shattered shards of an egg sprawled across the bed behind them, blinked at the sheer absurdity of it all.
In an instant, his face drained of color and he clutched at the doorframe to steady himself.
"Gods." he summed up eloquently.
"That's right, greater fragment of a god, right here." Kurama preened and spread his wings with a squeaky roar. "Bow, ya shit!"
Lyanna tried to hold back a giggle and failed.
It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.
With that, Naruto simply couldn't help himself anymore; he began to laugh.
(.0.0.0.)
Not three days later, a raven arrived at Casterly Rock.
Tywin opened it, gave the contents within a brisk read, paused, then reread them now for good measure.
Dearest Father,
It should behoove you to know that I -well, we, I suppose- will soon be returning to Casterly Rock.
Lady Lyanna expressed an interest in visiting the Westerlands.
Also...I have a dragon now. Surprise!
Be sure and burn this letter.
Ever your son,
~Nathaniel.
He crumpled the letter and swiftly consigned its contents to the fire of his hearth. Like father, like son; he too began to laugh.
But his was a grim, bitter thing indeed.
Joanna swept into the room, alarmed. "What is it dearest...?"
Tywin told her as bluntly as he could. "I expect we'll need a great deal of sheep in the days to come."
His wife began to laugh as well.
Looking back, many historians and many maesters would ponder what led to the chaos that followed.
This was it, right here.
The moment, the instance, the dawn of it all.
When the War of the Lion and the Dragon truly began.
A/N: We'll call it a day there for now. Very tired.
Hopefully you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it.
Well, should this remain a story? Would you like weekly updates? I've got five slots left. Or should it fade back into oblivion? By all means, speak up.
As ever, the Embers rule remains: If people don't like this story? If they don't enjoy it? Well...I won't be able to continue it. That's no joke, folks. I'm so busy these days with two jobs; and basically, I don't have time off. Not anymore. My free time is limited and as such, I can't afford to focus on something folks don't like. Reviews keep me writing in these times, and keep the daily updates flowing. Silence...silence only hurts. I hate having to beg for feedback, but without it...well, it feels like I'm not making an impact.
So...in the immortal words of Atlas...
...Review...Would Ya Kindly? And of course, Enjoy the previews. Potential ones...
Previews are -mostly!- the same this time. Didn't want to spoil the upcoming chapters.
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
SPOILERS LAY AHEAD!
YE BE WARNED~!
(PREVIEWS)
Cersei bulled into the room.
A dragon? Let me see!
Lyanna tutted softly. "You foolish lion."
"This from the wolf who thumped three squires?" She thumped him over the head and he laughed. "Ow, ow! Hit me all you like, I regret nothing!"
Joanna sighed. "My dear, sweet boy. What did you do...?"
He laughed and fell into a chair. "What was necessary. You should've seen the look on his face, mum...
Rhaella hiccuped once, hand before her face to cover her mouth eyes shimmering with tears. "It really IS you...isn't it?"
he knelt, took her hand in his, and kissed it.
"I am, as always, your loyal servant."
Bloody tourneys. He hated them. Still, this was a sight better than jousting. He'd take what he could get in the melee.
Prince Rhaegar was...not as he expected. At least he seemed saner than his father. For now.
"May you fight well." the prince settled into a stance.
...same to you."
"Seven hells!" Robert guffawed. "How are you still standing after a blow like that! You must have a skull like iron!"
Naruto reeled on his feet. "Something like that...
"Gods, this calls for a feast!" He slung an arm around his shoulders. "To our new friendship! Don't sulk over there, Ned! You're coming too!"
He could feel HER staring holes in him as they japed.
Rober elbowed him, winking as he did. "The she-wolf's looking at you again, lad. Give 'er a kiss."
Naruto thumped him over the head. "You kiss her!"
"Me?! The Baratheon only laughed harder. "Not a chance! I'll not come between a wolf and her prey. Besides, I've got my eye on another...
...enter."
She was waiting by the bed, clad in nothing but a sheer silk gown.
EDIT: Hey, you made it! I do hope this chapter lived up to your expectations. By all means, feel free to let me know what you think!
Looking forward to reading your feedback/chatting with you when I get back from work!
Hope you have a great day!
R ! =D