Author's Note's: I've recently fallen in love with Game of Thrones…

This is probably one of my favorite T.V. series at the moment. I've never read the books, but I've done considerable research on the show, so I'm hoping that will be enough.

I've always had the idea of Asura and Indra coming together in a single host, having that as the end of their transmigration. Naruto and Sasuke were the last two links in the chain, and we are now at the end of the chain, where the last two links meet. The universe of Game of Thrones and Naruto are the same, the Naruto aspect of that universe having occurred thousands of years ago. So technically, this is an OC story, but I'm going to have that OC be equal parts Naruto and Sasuke, since they were the last links.

If you've read my other work, you should know that I don't do "weak" characters. This isn't about how the protagonist finds his strength at the end of the story, having everything before that about him struggling in everything he does. This is about the last reincarnation of the Sage of Six Paths sons and his story. Focus on the interactions and badassery, because Marcus Baratheon is going to be one badass, OP character.

I will follow the Game of Thrones storyline as much as possible, but it will inevitably, for obvious reasons, differ from what you've seen. There will be aspects of Naruto sprinkled throughout the fic, no doubt. So sit back, relax, and enjoy.

The Last Son

Chapter One – Prophecy

Victory was not what Robert Baratheon thought it would be like, at all. The Targaryen scum was off the Iron Throne, and King's Landing was now his. House Baratheon was now the royal family, and all of Westeros bent the knee to him in fealty. The last of the Targaryens where running away to Dragonstone, and would soon be dealt with when Stannis – his younger brother – took it for his own. His greatest friend and best general, Eddard Stark was going to take his father's place as Lord Paramount of the North and Lord of Winterfell, his birthplace. Jon Arryn accepted the position of Hand of the King, and would help guide Robert through his rule, like he always did, even when he and Ned were still just children.

He had it all. The Seven Kingdoms bowed to him as the one true King, and the Iron Throne was his alone to sit upon. Yet, he felt like he still lost.

The love of his life and Ned's sister, Lyanna, didn't make it. Slain by the Mad King before Jaime Lannister, a member of the Kingsguard, put his sword through the Targaryen's back. She was his everything, Lyanna. She was the reason he fought so hard, so brutally. He cut down Rhaegar Targaryen in battle singlehandedly. He took her from him, so he took his life. He united the Baratheon's, Stark's, Arryn's, Tully's, and the bloody Lannister's under his command, for her. He defeated the Last Dragon, for her. Yet even still, the gods took her away from him.

He lost everything.

Or so he thought.

Alone in the Throne Room, the now King Robert Baratheon sat on the most powerful chair in the world, as tears freely fell down his face. He was in the dark, and he would not let the gods judge him for mourning the woman he loved more than anything else, not when they were the ones who took her away from him. All his power, all his possessions, all his victory's, all of it meant nothing now. He couldn't share it with her, so what was the point? He won the war, but he lost the only thing that was actually important.

"Robert!" a voice rang behind the doors that led into the Throne Room.

The King chuckled softly, no humor in his tone. "Isn't it "Your Grace", now?" He whispered cynically.

"Robert Baratheon, you open these damn doors now!" The voice of Jon Arryn was even louder than before. Speaking to him like Jon usually did when they were kids snapped Robert out of his pity, causing the warrior inside him to bleed out.

Standing with a snarl, Robert rushed the doors he locked himself behind, his face twisted in rage, a mask for his sorrow and loss. "Speak to me like that again and I'll cut your tongue from your mouth and shove it down your throat, old man!" He yelled as he reached for the door, opening them easily with his raw strength. He opened his mouth to continue to scold and threaten his mentor, but the moment he saw what was in his arms, the new King froze.

"You were saying, boy?" Jon asked with a knowing smirk on his face.

"… Whose child is that, Jon?" Robert asked. His heart seemed to stop and speed up all at the same time, and his mouth became dry.

The smile that lit the new Hand of the King's face made Robert swallow hard. He looked just like her… he had her eyes. "This is your son, Robert. Yours and Lyanna's son." The words sent chills down his spine, and his hands shook.

"That's impossible. She…" the words disappeared in his throat. He couldn't say it. He couldn't say that she was no longer among the living.

"We found her journal, Robert. She wrote about him, about you. She became pregnant the last time the two of you were together, and gave birth to him not three months ago." Jon placed a hand on Robert, a smile still on his face. "You have a son, my boy."

The feeling of being all alone was slowly vanishing, being replaced by a new emotion. Lyanna was gone… he would never feel her gentle touch again. He would never taste her lips against his again. With those thoughts, Robert felt as if he would rather die and be with her, than be without. The colors faded, and everything was bathed in the darkness of his sorrow. But now… as the broken man looked on into the pure black eyes of his son… of Lyanna's son… the colors seemed to come back. Just staring into the eyes of a newborn gave him more hope and courage than having his entire army at his back, or Eddard Stark at his side.

Robert slowly reached out, silently telling Jon to give him the boy, and he did. And the moment he had his son in his arms, the broken man was broken no longer. The broken man was now King Robert Baratheon, a man who ended the Targaryen rule that had lasted for centuries in a single year. The babe had been crying the entire time he was in Jon's arms, but the moment Robert touched him, he was silent. Big, onyx eyes looked up at the King, an already curious face about him.

Robert laughed, loudly. "My son will grow up to be a fine man!" He shouted to the seven heavens, as if mocking the gods. "Lyanna lives on in this boy!" His eyes drifted from the sky to his first son. "And I dare you to try and take him from me…" he whispered with so much fierce and determination, Jon Arryn was taken aback.

Jon wasn't sure how Robert would take knowing that a child was born from him and Lyanna now that she was dead. Whatever he had in mind, this was not it. Robert looked at the boy with the eyes of a father, a true father, and for Robert, that was a scary thing. The Baratheon started an all-out civil war against a dynasty that had been in place for hundreds of years, and won. And for the man's son…

He would probably burn the world to ash if anything threatened him.

"Well, the boy needs a name." Jon began, deciding to protect the child so nothing catastrophic would happen. He raised Robert and Eddard, what was one more?

"He already has a name, Jon." Robert spoke, his eyes never leaving the boy's. "Marcus. That's what Lyanna wanted a son born from us to be named… Marcus Baratheon."

Jon's eyes widened. "You're giving him your family name?"

Robert chuckled, which was the opposite of what Jon thought he'd do. "This boy is no bastard… We might not have been married in the eyes of the gods, but in our hearts, and the hearts of those who knew how we felt about each other, we were every bit as married as anyone… And fuck the gods..." He whispered the last bit, but it was loud enough for Jon to hear.

After a moment of contemplating his new King's decision, Jon sighed. He was tired and getting old. "Young Marcus Baratheon it is, then. Now let's just pray he's nothing like you."

Robert and Jon locked eyes for a moment, and then the two suddenly burst into laughter, their voices filling the Throne Room like thunder. And then it happened.

Marcus giggled alongside them, his little face expressing nothing but childish happiness. His giggles stopped the men's laughter. The King and the Hand of the King just stared at the black-haired youngling with an expression of wonder. But that did not deter the babe. He just kept giggling, holding onto his daddy's finger.

And that was the first day Jon saw it in years.

The tears of Robert Baratheon fell freely once more.

Neither Robert nor Jon seemed to notice the two distinct markings on the boy' palms. Not the sun-shaped mark on his right – or the crescent moon-shaped mark on his left.

Being King was not at all what Robert Baratheon thought it would be like.

Half a million people looked to him for guidance, and that was in King's Landing alone. There was no easy, quiet day. There was always someone, somewhere, who needed him to hold their hand. It was starting to get on Robert's nerves.

All the people in the kingdom couldn't amount to the kind of irritation Cersei Lannister could muster up within him, though. The woman was beautiful, there was no doubt, but she was not Lyanna, and she never would be. Lyanna Stark was his one true love, and Robert only married her to reward the Lannister's for sacking King's Landing for him during his rebellion, and only then because Jon Arryn, his Hand of the King, convinced him to. She was too smart for her own good, and he was smarter than she thought him to be. He could see the way she looked at his son, at Lyanna's son. Marcus was his reminder. With him, Robert would never forget the love of his life, he would never forget Lyanna, and that did not sit well with Cersei.

Robert wasn't worried, though. The Queen, along with everyone else, knew that if anyone tried to harm his first born son, he'd make them wish for the release only death could give them. It had been a constant argument between the two of them for a while. Cersei and the rest of the Lannister's were outraged that he would give his bastard son his surname. Thankfully, that would stop very soon. The annoying woman was pregnant, and would give birth any day now. It angered him, incredibly so, but after speaking with Jon, Robert decided to name his second son his heir when he was born, not Marcus. He hated politics, but he knew of its importance.

And by the looks of it, Marcus wouldn't need to be King. He was already walking – hell, already running. The boy was fast for his age, and coordinated beyond belief. He was definitely not like other children, not at all. He would stare at people, watch them, and observe them. His son was smart.

"Your Grace!" Robert's musings were interrupted by the sound of Jon's voice. All he wanted to do was sit in his study and eat his lunch with his son, but he was King, and a King's duty was never over.

"Yes, yes, come in." Robert shouted at the door, his tone showing his annoyance.

The Hand of the King entered with a nervous expression. "Robert," Jon began, always using his first name when in private, "You must come with me." His tone was just as on edge, which let Robert know something was up.

"What's wrong with you, Jon? I haven't seen you this uptight since… well; I've never actually seen you this uptight before, come to think of it." Robert chuckled, his face already red from the wine.

"Just come with me, boy! This is serious." Jon snapped. Robert was taken aback for a moment, not having been talked to like that for a long while. Jon sighed. "I apologize… but you really need to come with me. And bring Marcus with you."

Robert sighed, nodding. He'd humor his old mentor. "Fine, fine…" he groaned. Standing up, the King gestured for his son to follow. "Come, Marcus. Uncle Jon is in need of our presence." Marcus smiled, nodding. The little boy jumped up from his chair and ran at his father, holding onto his pant leg.

Robert Baratheon sat on the Iron Throne, wondering what he was doing there.

"For what reason was I needed here, Jon?" the King asked.

Jon just waved to the guards at the doors, ordering them to let someone pass. And from the doors, twenty people in white gowns emerged, and everyone knew who they were, especially the man who led them.

"Your Grace, I thank you for seeing us on such short notice." The High Septon bent his knee, bowing to his King. "If it weren't urgent, I would not demand your presence so quickly." Rising, the High Septon gave a look in the direction of the Queen, Cersei Lannister, who had a large belly.

"What urgent matter do you speak of?" Robert asked.

"… It's your son, Your Grace… There's… been a prophecy." King's Landing's religious leader spoke, Cersei caressing her enlarged stomach.

Robert sighed. He still had no faith in the gods, not after Lyanna was taken away from him. He hated them, and defied them at every chance. They would not have any more family of his.

"Please, pray tell, High Septon. What is this prophecy you have seen?" Jon Arryn asked. Robert looked at him in annoyance, but Jon waved it off. He was quite possibly the only man alive who could do such a thing and keep his head.

The High Septon nodded, clearing his throat and licking his lips. And then, he began. "The Last Son has come to be. The last link in the everlasting chain is here. Born of Light and Dark, he will command all creation, and give upon men and women their salvation. For His sons have finally become one, mind and body has merged, and His is the Fury. The Last Son will have strength that will make the gods tremble, and the Heavens will be his, if he wishes it. A god among men, he will become. A man, he will choose to be. He will give his heart to the Breaker of Chains, and she him, and together, they will purify the world in Dragon's Fire and the Heavenly Flame. Nothing can stop them. The world is theirs, and we are but humble enough to live in it. The King of Kings, the Queen of Queens; these two will conquer the entire world, and not even The Seven will dare get in their way. He will unearth the nine beasts whose tails cause mass destruction. They will give him their strength, as they have done before. That is when destruction incarnate and fire made flesh will slay god, saving us all from eternal slumber. He has returned, the Child of Prophecy has come back to save us all. He is the savior of this world."

Robert just stared on at the man, his eyes narrowed the entire time.

"This is a prophecy you have seen? As the High Septon, I find it strange that you would say such things against The Seven." Jon explained.

"I was shocked myself, Lord Hand. I have served The Seven for many years, my whole life, actually. But this prophecy, this vision… it's real. It's going to happen. I know it just as sure as my heart beats."

"So you're saying…" Robert began, his voice low and his tone deep. "That a son of mine is going to conquer the world and spit on the gods as he's doing it?" He asked. The entire Thrown Room was silent, deathly silent.

The High Septon gulped, sweat falling down his forehead. But then, he straightened his shoulders, and held his head up high. "That is what we have seen, Your Grace." He spoke, not caring if they would be the last words he'd ever utter.

Again, the Throne Room was silent, and all those who were present the same. Ser Jaime Lannister, a member of the Kingsguard was silent as he watched his excited sister from the corner of his eye. Cersei Lannister was silent as she marveled at the prophecy of her soon to be born son. Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was silent as he tried to decipher the prophecy. Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King was silent as he also tried to decipher the hidden message behind the prophecy. Marcus Baratheon, the King's first son was silent as he stared at the High Septon with curious eyes. The nineteen men who followed the High Septon were silent as they watched their King. The High Septon himself was silent as he stared defiantly at his King. And then there was Robert Baratheon, the King of Westeros, who was silently watching the High Septon with serious eyes.

All was silent, not even the sound of breathing could be heard in the Throne Room.

And then, the King barked out in laughter.

"I couldn't ask for anything sweeter!" Robert laughed, standing. "Tell me, which son will it be? Who will be the King of Kings?" He asked.

"The future King, of course." Cersei spoke out, rubbing her belly. "Our son will be a god among men, just as the prophecy says." The look on her face said she was better than everyone else, and happy, so very happy.

The High Septon bowed his head to the Queen, a sorry look on his face. "I apologize, My Lady, but no… the child in your womb is not the Last Son…" That's when the aged man gazed upon Marcus, his weary eyes meeting lively onyx. "The Last Son is already born, and stands with us, in this very room." The High Septon, along with his nineteen followers, got on their knees, bowing their heads to the floor. "Marcus Baratheon, I, and all of the Great Sept of Baelor are at your service."

All eyes widened, seeking the youngest person in the room, who was standing next to his father with the same calm, curious look he had since the beginning. The High Septon was a powerful figure, and always has been since the founding of King's Landing. He was the mouthpiece of The Seven, and was expected to bow to no man, not even the King.

"You must be mistake, High Septon… Marcus is a bastard, and not the heir of my husband. The child in my womb will become King. It has already been decided." Cersei began in a strict tone, obviously being held back.

Robert was silent, still staring at his son who was just as calm as always.

"The Iron Throne rules all of Westeros. It means nothing to the Last Son." The High Septon began. "Your son may become King, but he will not be the King of Kings."

"What proof do you have supporting your claims?" Jon Arryn asked, efficiently interrupting Cersei's inevitable retort.

"The mark of Light and Dark, Lord Hand," the High Septon began. "It will be on the Last Son."

Robert and Jon both looked at the man with wide eyes, both men coming to the same conclusion

"What is the mark? Can you describe it?" Robert asked. Cersei looked at her husband, her eyes narrowed.

The High Septon nodded. "The mark will come in the form of the sun and a crescent moon, Your Grace."

Jon gulped, slowly turning to Marcus. "Your palms, boy, show them to us."

Marcus looked at his father with an asking expression, and the King nodded slowly. "Do what he asks, son." Robert ordered, his mouth suddenly dry.

Marcus turned to the High Septon, and slowly but surely, turned his palms to the crowd. And sure enough, the sun sat in his right hand, and the moon in his left.

The High Septon let a single tear fall from his eye, his arms stretched out as if to embrace the air. "Grace your eyes upon this boy, my followers, for he will one day save us all…"

If looks could kill, Marcus Baratheon would have been killed by Cersei Lannister. The woman hated the child before, but now… now she loathed his very existence.

After a moment of mindless staring, Jon finally snapped out of his stupor, managing to form thought. "Why was it you who saw this prophecy?" He asked. There was no way the man knew about the boy's birthmarks. Marcus hadn't even left the castle yet, and no one met him without the King present. For him to know about the markings, the prophecy had to be true, or there was a spy.

The High Septon shook his head, his face grim. "It wasn't just I, Lord Hand…" Jon narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Are you saying all twenty of you had the same prophetic vision?" Jon asked skeptically.

Yet again, the High Septon shook his head. "Please, follow me outside these walls, and I will show you." He stood, gesturing to the doors as he and his followers hurried out them.

Before Jon could speak, Robert was up, following the man with Marcus at his side. Sighing, the Hand of the King followed, with a reluctant Jaime and a furious Cersei behind him.

As they walked, Jaime glanced at Cersei, his twin glancing back with a worried expression. They held their gaze until they reached their destination, just outside the Throne Room. Jaime looked away, and his eyes widened, causing Cersei to follow his gaze. And when she did, her eyes mirrored his.

Robert and Jon looked on in awe, their minds still trying to comprehend what they were seeing.

There were thousands of them. Thousands of people were before them, all of them staring at one person. At Marcus.

That's when the High Septon spoke, his voice loud and his tone serious. "These are men and women from across the world, even from beyond the wall. We have congregated here because of what we've seen." He started. "We have all seen the prophecy… what your son becomes." His eyes met Marcus's. "You are going to be an extraordinary man when you grow up, little one."

Marcus suddenly took a couple of steps forward, looking on at the people. At his people.

And then he turned back to them, his eyes closed as he smiled at his father. Behind him, the thousands of people bowed to him, just as the High Septon had before. Only in his second year, and already had thousands bending their knee…

Extraordinary indeed.

Author's Note's: So, what did you think?

I was thinking about making Marcus the "trueborn son of Robert and Cersei" that died before Joffrey was born, but I really like the idea of Ned being Robert's son's uncle, and Ned's kids his cousins. It ties everyone together, and helps me give Marcus a reason to be upset when the Wolves and Lions are at each other's throats.

If it wasn't already obvious, this is a strictly Marcus x Daenerys pairing. Most of the Naruto x Game of Thrones crossovers are harems, and while harems aren't necessarily a bad thing, they get old. Fast. So, I'm writing a single pairing for this story. I hope you all approve.

Please let me know how I did, and review!

Question: Who's your favorite Game of Thrones character?

Fact: Naruto is my very first anime. I came across it on cartoon network one day after school in middle school. I think I was in the six, maybe seventh grade. I didn't start watching other anime until I was a sophomore in high school. I thought it was lame, until I found out that Naruto was in fact, an anime. Yeah… I felt really stupid.