Arthur was a simple man, he worked as a blacksmith's apprentice, just making a living in Oldtown. As this was the main seat of the maesters, he also learned how to read, write and do his numbers, something which made him invaluable. His master could do it too but Arthur just had more talent in it, so he did their books. He hadn't expected for his life to ever change. Did he want more? Of course, that was human nature but what chances did he have to become something more? He couldn't fight to save his life and unless he somehow endeared himself to some high lord, that was the only way he could rise the ranks but alas, he made swords, not wielded them. That was until one day…
Arthur was hammering at the glowing hot blade of an ax, when he staggered as something entered his body. Memories flooded in his mind, not his own, not of anyone in planetos but of a man from a world so unlike his own that he barely recognised it as reality. Shinobi, hidden villages, talking toads, technology well beyond what he had ever imagined. These memories were of one Li Midori, one of these strange Shinobi of the village hidden in leaves. He had died during the rampage of the nine tailed fox demon and now, his knowledge was Arthur's.
Arthur didn't quite believe these memories. This was just too absurd, so, to test it, he let go of his hammer and formed quick hand seals. Forming them felt as easy as breathing, the chakra flowed through each and, after the final one was completed, an illusionary clone of him appeared in front of him. Arthur reached out to touch it but as soon as his fingers brushed against the clone, it dispelled.
"This is real…" he muttered, voice low, "this could be my chance…"
If he could do everything that Li could do, seven hells, he might be the most powerful person in Westeros! Not politically but in a much more direct way.
"Arthur, what are you doing?! I don't pay you to slack around! I don't hear you working!" His master shouted from another room.
Right- first things first, get through the working day.
Arthur worked and was surprised at how easy it suddenly was. He barely broke a sweat when hammering the steel. It was as if he was swinging a kitchen knife, not a blacksmiths hammer. He felt strong, so very strong! Not merely in muscle, though that too had changed. The hammer struck truer. Each blow landed exactly where he intended, as if guided by an unseen hand.
He finished the ax head in half the usual time. When his master came to inspect it, the older man grunted in approval, "good balance… you been practicing?"
"Yes master", Arthur replied evenly.
That, at least, was true.
That night, in the small loft above the forge where he slept, Arthur tested the limits of his new reality.
He sat cross legged on the wooden floor, eyes closed, recalling Li Midori's training. Academy exercises, tree walking, water walking, basic transformations.
He formed the ram seal.
A faint shimmer passed over him. When he opened his eyes, the polished bronze mirror across the room reflected not Arthur, blacksmiths apprentice but a maester, old, wearing long robes and wearing a chain with close to a dozen links. It was just an illusion but he was still impressed with the accuracy of the transformation jutsu.
He had many more jutsu in his repertoire but they were rather flashy and he doubted it would go over well if he burned down the forge with a great fireball jutsu. He pondered what he should do now? He couldn't stay just another blacksmith, not when he had been given this gift. To forsake it was like not grasping a rope that saved you from drowning at sea.
But neither could he be a fool.
Arthur let the jutsu fade. The old maester in the mirror shimmered and dissolved, leaving behind a young man with soot in his hair and ambition in his eyes.
Power, Li's memories warned him, meant nothing without control. In Konoha, children would be given chakra and shaped into weapons but only few made it to Jonin. Many died because they grew arrogant too quickly.
He gathered chakra at his feet, the warm energy collecting at his soles as he stepped onto the wall. He took a step and didn't fall. With each step, he grew more confident in his motions. The fear that this had been a fluke disappeared with each step.
This wasn't just a hallucination, it was truth, a reality rather than a fantasy.
"Ha ha ha!" Arthur laughed heartily as he stood vertically. The sound was wild in the cramped loft, half mad.
He walked the length of the wall, then across the ceiling beam, each step steady. When he released his chakra, he dropped lightly onto the floor, knees bending without thought. He hadn't fallen hard at all.
Arthur stared at his hands.
Chakra. That was it, life energy, molded and shaped through will and seal. In Li Midori's memories, it had been as common as steel was here, every shinobi wielded it. But here? In all of Westeros, who could do what he could do?
He had heard of Red priests in Essos who could call forth fire and shadow binders in Asshai but that was magic, born of sacrifice, not jutsu born of chakra.
The next morning, Arthur rose before dawn. Instead of breaking his fast, he slipped behind the forge, past the small yard where scrap wood and coal were stored, into the streets of the town, which were still asleep.
Tree walking had been child's play. Now for water walking.
Oldtown's docks were never truly empty but at this hour, fishermen were only just beginning to stir. Arthur found a quiet stretch of water, hidden behind docked ships and crouched at the edge. The river reflected the looming towers of the Hightowers, pale in the early light.
He focused.
Chakra to the feet, even distribution. Too much and the water would repell him, too little and he would sink.
He stepped forward… his shoes touched the water's surface and- he didn't fall. Arthur shifted his weight fully onto it. A ripple spread outwards but he remained standing.
A grin spread over his face, wild and joyful.
A fisherman further down the dock glanced his way, looking for a little too long. Arthur immediately released the chakra at his feet and dropped the last inch into the clear water with a splash, as if he had merely misjudged the edge.
The fisherman snorted, "too early to be drunk, lad"
Arthur only grinned sheepishly as he climbed back on the dock.
Back in the forge that day, every clang of hammer on steel felt like an unpleasant interruption. His thoughts were elsewhere entirely- on hand seals, on chakra generation, on the vast catalogue of techniques Li Midori had known, the techniques he now had access to.
The academy three, transformation, basic clones and substitution, two of which he had already tested out. Then there were the more advanced arts. Fire release: great fireball jutsu, Water release:Hiding in mist jutsu, Water release: water clone, Wind release: great breakthrough, shadow clones and so many more. Li had been a Jonin before his memories got swallowed by Arthur, one of the highest ranking civilian shinobi in the hidden leaf, an old friend of Minato Namikaze, the fourth Hokage, though he had never reached the same level as Minato, he wasn't weak either. For a civilian born shinobi, he was actually very talented but in the end, none of that mattered. In front of the nine tailed fox, even the mightiest shinobi was still just an ant.
"Lost in memories again, boy?", his master asked, "keep your mind on the steel. Whatever you are thinking about, it can wait until this sword is finished"
"Actually…" Arthur let the hammer stop in mid strike, "I think I want to do something else with my life"
"What kind of nonsense are you talking about?" His master looked at him funny, "do you plan to join the citadel? ha!"
"No… Lord Hightower plans to hold a tourney for his youngest son's sixteenth name day in a moons time. The preparations are already in full swing and I thought I'd participate"
His master looked at him as though he'd lost his mind finally, "you are jesting. Please tell me you are jesting! In my thirty years as a master blacksmith, you have been my most promising student. Do you really want to throw away your life for glory which you will never achieve?"
Arthur didn't answer, swinging his hammer again, deep in thought. No one had seen Lord Hightower in years and he likely wouldn't be present at the tourney either but his eldest daughter was who Arthur wanted to impress… Malora, the mad maid. She was rumoured to be a sorceress of great power. A rumor which, unlike other lords and ladies, she never refused. If he impressed her with his jutsu, even if she wasn't actually a sorceress, he might be able to get himself knighted by one of her brothers and if he was knighted, he could rise through the ranks. From a hedge knight, to a landed knight and maybe even to a Lord if he impressed the right people. But all that depended on being knighted and the easiest way for that was once again winning in the melee at this tourney.
An opportunity like this came very rarely, so he had to grasp it while he could.