A/N: Welcome to Robb's magical adventures with the Three Eyed Crow! This chapter is one of revelations - between Robb's newfound abilities, Margaery's knowledge, and the knowledge of what it is like to awake from a coma. I did my best to make the vision as true to canon as possible, but let me know what you think!.


ROBB III

The grey mist swirled around him as he fell.

Fly, a voice echoed in the darkness. You must fly, young wolf.

But why? Why was he flying? And what for? He was a man, not a bird, and even he knew that men couldn't fly. So why was he being asked to fly?

Do not question, the voice said, you must fly.

The ground was closer and closer now, in his vision, and a feeling of dread filled him. If he hit the ground, well...it was likely he would die. But if it were a dream, he would wake up. Could he really risk the fall?

Every flight begins with a fall, Robb heard another voice say, a distant echo of the voice he had heard. The grey mist swirled, and he saw a...vision superimpose over the grey mist. Another boy, younger, smaller, falling from the sky. A different time, a different place, but another boy, one incredibly familiar to Robb.

"I'm afraid…" Robb heard the little boy say, and in his shock, he realized that it was Bran's voice. But why would Bran be here, and why would he fall? It didn't matter, his brother was in trouble. His little brother was falling like him, falling to his death! He needed to do something.

The proper motivation can do a lot, the first voice said, now, fly!

"But how?" Robb spoke. "How do I fly?"

Look below, the voice replied. It will be revealed to you.

He looked below, and saw the grey mist swirl around below and a formless void of ground became images superimposed over one another.

He saw different events occur out in front of him, visible to his eyes, and in his fascination, he stared further.

"Promise me, Ned," he heard, "His name is Ả̷̮̟̃͒̎̀͋̈́̿̋̍̀̃̋̚͝e̵̤͔̱̟̹͌̓̿̒̍͝m̴͉̪̈́̔́́̎̊̏́͘̕o̶͓̯̼͍̗͓̮̳͈̺͓͔͆̀͛͜͠n̸̺̬̓̉̚͝͝, you must promise me, Ned!"

Different worlds of names, scrambling the meaning - what was the name of the boy? Who was he? He knew the boy was important, he knew he was familiar, but what was his name?

He saw other things too. One area of the grey mist showed a battle occurring - some in which a man with a hammer won, by smashing it into the other man's breastplate; other worlds where the man with the black armor won through a clever sword strike or two. He saw the differences, the streaming path-lines

You see the full stream, but you cannot see the singular. A true dreamer, the crow stated in amusement, with the same voice it had used with him. So similar yet so different from your brother.

The grey mist swirled further and further, showing Robb different visions, different worlds. Worlds where he was stabbed in the back with a dagger, with whispers of "The Lannisters send their regards, worlds where he saw himself seated atop the Iron Throne, sometimes with Margaery, other times, with men or women he knew naught, save for their faces, holding an open familiarity. Worlds where he retreated back to Winterfell, or worlds where he never left, living a peaceful life.

Worlds where his family was massacred; his brothers, either dead, or soulless husks,and his sisters, traumatized and hardened. Worlds where Margaery married him, Joffrey, a man with deep indigo eyes that looked almost violet, and yet, where she would die in a blaze of green as a Sept burst into flames, or neatly beheaded with a stoic expression on her face. Worlds of peace, worlds of chaos and disorder, worlds where he himself had been changed. Robb saw. He saw the flow of time unbroken, unchained, the paths diverging and diverging - grey mists swirling and moving as visions superimposed atop other visions and led to a formless, shapeless cloud of grey mist.

He strained himself to see a single vision, but for every event that he saw, an infinite number of other visions obscured the event, leading to a formless void of information. And yet, as he looked further and further, he saw all of these streams converging into a single event. Of a place so far north that nothing grew, and of demonic creatures of ice, storming every world. People dying in droves against an enemy they could not defeat, trying every tactic possible. Dragon-fire, wildfire, massive armies of men with different banners streaming around in the wind holding weapons of dragonglass - nothing worked, as every image he saw ended in a world where a cruel king of ice and emptiness, sitting atop the Throne as a frozen world graced his vision.

The Long Night, he realized, and fear crept into his heart. Even when the Realm was prepared. Was there anything that could beat back the Others?

And no matter how hard Robb tried to search for a vision where the Realm prevailed against the Others, it simply could not be found. Again, and again, and again, the futility of the Realm's effort to avoid destruction was metaphorically beaten into Robb's head. A tear dropped down Robb's face as his fear threatened to consume him. Did anything else even matter in the face of this calamity?

The Aberration may have changed the Song, the crow whispered into Robb's ear, but you will simply have to adapt to your altered role. You must live and become something greater than what you once were.

Death approached Robb every second as he fell further and further, the ground closer and closer. There was nothing below but ice and death, a thousand dreamers impaled on icy spikes. He could almost feel the malevolent eyes of the Great Other urging him to fall, to give, to allow himself to be impaled, and Robb struggled to suppress the urge.

Choose. Fly or die, the crow urged.

No fool, Robb spread out his arms and flew. Within a moment, seemingly invisible wings pushed him above, and he was soaring. A smile filled Robb's face in joy as the grey mists swirled into happier memories, to better memories. The world grew small as Robb lost himself in the joy of flight.

And yet, the crow suddenly shifted in mood, aggressively attempting to peck at Robb, to slow him, to blind him. Robb fought at the crow, struggling vainly, but eventually, the crow managed to peck Robb in the middle of his forehead, between his eyes, and a blinding pain filled him.

The crow suddenly disappeared as the grey mist ripped away, and he awoke to harsh gasps, and Theon's face of shock and awe. Grey Wind snuffed, seemingly curled from his position near Robb's head, and moved, opening his yellow eyes to stare contemplatively at Robb, before licking his face happily. His harsh gasps lessened as he relaxed in the face of his direwolf's affection.

"He's awake!" Robb heard Theon shout, as he ran out of the room. Robb stared out of the window, contemplating at his strange dream, allowing himself to zone out. Eventually, Grey Wind barked happily, as the breathless, teary face of Margaery filled Robb's vision.

"Robb!" she cried, tightly embracing him. His weakened arms made it harder for him to hug her back, but he managed to embrace her, his shirt, dampening with her tears. "I thought I had lost you! Never do that again." She said quietly, her voice muffled by her position by his shoulder.

Then, Lady Catelyn bustled in, tears filling her eyes. She looked to her son and her good-daughter locked in an embrace, and quickly hugged them both, before separating, and walking out of the room with a smile on her face. Theon and the servants looked quietly at the pair, before walking out of the room to allow both Robb and Margaery their space.


Long after, once Robb and Margaery had finished their reunion, and Robb, allowed to move back into his room, though with supervision, Robb and Margaery moved into Robb's personal rooms once more. Both of them sat on the bed, quietly reflecting on the day's events whilst cuddled to one another.

He had fallen deathly ill with a fever, he had learned, and fell into a coma. Then, his fever had broken, and he had been on the path to recovery. It appeared that the vision had stopped in time with his recovery, and that t

I was close enough to death to panic Margaery, Robb noted. She hasn't left my side even once since I have been awake.

"Robb?" his wife asked hesitantly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "What did you see, exactly, while you were in your coma?"

"I-" Robb stammered. "How did you know that I saw something?"

Margaery sighed quietly. "Something I will explain soon. I had my suspicions."

Robb raised an eyebrow at his wife, causing her to look shiftily. He sighed, when she failed to answer, and opened his mouth to explain.

"I was dreaming of a crow, who told me that I needed to fly," Robb said quietly. "And the crow showed me….visions, of things that could be. It said that I was a true dreamer, mayhaps a greenseer. I saw them as well - the Others. They always won, in every single one of my visions. They are coming, Margaery, they are coming for us."

Margaery paled slightly, but nodded in acceptance.

"I knew the Others were bad but….you said they won every single time? Not a single time were they beaten?" she asked.

"Nay. No matter what we tried - dragon-fire, wildfire, dragonglass, nothing." Robb replied. "We need to do something about the Others, or they will kill us all."

His wife paled even further, cuddling into him. They spent a few moments curled up together, sharing in those fears, before Margaery's voice broke the spell.

"Robb….I have to tell you something. Something you need to know. And...and it might sound mad, Robb, but I swear, I am telling the truth." Margaery spoke haltingly. He looked at his wife's face then. Margaery's face was filled with vulnerability, and an open fear, but with a look of stubbornness too, as though she knew she was committing to this path and would take whatever consequences there would be.

"Madder than talk of Others and greenseers?" Robb asked incredulously.

"I...I'm not Margaery. Not the real one." Margaery started.

"Not the real Margaery?"

"I….no. Not the Margaery that was supposed to be here. But I was born of this world as Margaery Tyrell, after I died. I am your Margaery Tyrell, but I am not the Margaery Tyrell that was supposed to exist," Margaery explained.

"You're not making any sense, love," Robb remarked quietly.

"I….I lived a different life, in another world. Before this. But then I died, and I was born as Margaery Tyrell. So I grew up as Margaery Tyrell." She said, her voice becoming more and more frantic with anxiety with every world. "Willas wasn't supposed to marry Arianne - he was supposed to break his leg in the tourney, but I changed that. You and I weren't supposed to send letters to one another and become betrothed - I was supposed to want to be Queen, and stay in Highgarden, to be betrothed to Renly, and then Joffrey, while you were supposed to be in Winterfell. So I changed that. Jon was supposed to go to the Night's Watch, and Bran was supposed to be injured instead of you, and to take your place.."

"The Aberration…" Robb whispered softly, his mind connecting the dots. "But you changed it?" He asked.

"I did. I knew what was going to happen. You were supposed to marry Jeyne Westerling and die at a wedding gone wrong, stabbed in the back by Roose Bolton. I was supposed to marry Joffrey, and Tommen, when Joffrey died, and die in a Sept explosion. I couldn't...couldn't let that happen." She rambled, panicked. "I had originally planned to exchange letters with you because it was a safe move, because it would help me survive in this horrible world, and then I ended up falling in love with you and marrying you. And now you're the next greenseer, or something greater, and I changed the song. The Song of Ice and Fire. Oh, gods, what have I done, I-"

Robb shushed his panicking wife softly, taking her into his arms. He soothed her anguish, her fear, and his expression and body language never changed throughout, for how could he, to the person he loved? How could he grow angry or react negatively to someone who saved him and his family, and aimed for their wellbeing, as well as hers? Eventually, as Margaery calmed down, Robb cupped her face in his hands, and they looked at each other.

"It doesn't matter. None of it does," Robb said soothingly. "You are still my Margaery, no matter who you were before, and I am still your Robb. The only thing that matters is that I love you, and you love me. The rest will decide itself out,"

Tears of joy and relief dripped down Margaery's face as they kissed, and they held one another, soothing themselves in the presence of the other. There was joy there - the joy Robb felt about having this, about knowing that he had this love to sustain him through his days and all of his days thereafter, and his love for his wife, as well as her love for him was so great that Robb could hardly ask for anything more. Minutes turned into hours as Margaery and Robb simply held one another, and eventually, they dozed off to sleep.


When Robb awoke, it was to the sight of his wife feverishly writing important information on the nearby desk. He groaned at the loss of heat as he rose from the bed, and proceeded to drape over her in an embrace.

"Robb! You're ruining my writing!" Margaery complained exasperatedly, rolling her eyes before kissing him. The writing seemed to be in a...cipher of some kind, with the marks very different from the standard letters of the Common Tongue. She smirked at him.

"I arranged for breakfast in our solar", Margaery started, pointing to the food lying ready at the table, "..and the request to not be disturbed. As far as the household is concerned, we are occupied for the day with one another."

"I assume this is because you are going to tell me what you've seen?" Robb asked quietly.

"Yes. Some of my knowledge will either be obsolete or may not be totally accurate either, and we need to compare your knowledge as well."

"Will we write this down somewhere?"

"Yes", Margaery answered, "though it will be well hidden until we have it memorized. It is also written in English, the language I used in my own world."

"Eng-lish?" Robb pronounced the strange word. "Alright. Let us break our fast, and then we can talk."

Breakfast was simple, Northern grain, eggs, and vegetables, to help Robb rebuild his strength. Eventually, both Margaery and Robb finished their food and sat quietly on the bed to discuss.

"What I know so far is not pretty at all," Margaery began, "but we know something of how we can prevail with this information. I surmise that the Long Night will be much more difficult in this world than in my visions."

Robb nodded thoughtfully.

Margaery proceeded to lay out a history of House Stark and a grim world, devastated by war. Evidently, his father's old saying that only Starks in the South would bring woe was correct, as the fates of every member of his family, the war, the dragons, the conspiracies….he wasn't certain there would even be a functional realm in time for the Long Night. There were hesitant stops as Margaery attempted to explain everything she could from memory, and as she noted theories of possibilities that could have happened.

Other things Margaery said lined up with what he knew - for instance, Robb had definitely seen Jon, but named Aemon *(or was it Daeron, or Jaehearys, or Daemon?) by his birth mother before being claimed as a bastard by Robb's father. If anything, that made him believe her more, and her knowledge of a world of a series of events comforted Robb with the knowing that they were to be prepared.

"I will not lie, my love, that is quite a tale of woe," Robb said thoughtfully after Margaery had finished everything. "I am...uncertain about the world so far, especially that alliance with Aegon in Dorne, but….we need to talk about next steps together. Father, Sansa, and Bran are in grave danger just by being in King's Landing, and we must get them home."

Margaery nodded.

"Grandmother has already arranged for your father to solve the puzzle in King's Landing faster, as well as transportation to sneak any of the three and Loras out in the worst case scenarios. We are verging pretty dangerously close to war, but hopefully, that can stymie the worst of it."

"What can I do next though?" Robb asked, somewhat frustrated at the thought of not being able to do anything. "What can be done to prevent the next War?"

"We cannot prevent it, but we can stymie it. We must prepare for the Games in King's Landing, and keep abreast of any new information, without overcommitting to one side. But either way, that depends on your father's actions in King's Landing, and the ripple effects that it has on the Realm. Winter is coming, but we must survive a war first."


Ending A/N: I buffed the Others. Why, you may ask? The Others are rightfully the greatest threat in canon, and I want to make this story one that is more realistic. Not a story where dragon-fire sweeps through the Others, or a world where a lucky heart shot instantly dismantles the Others and their armies, but a world more true to canon, where the Others are actually world-ending extinction level threats. We're not talking just ice zombies, we're talking ice zombies that legitimately could take over the world. Why and how? You'll find that out in later chapters.

I told you all that the scale of canon and the stakes of canon will rise, and so it will, except this time, it's proportional to the conflict, so Robb and Margaery will have to come up with a truly unique solution to survive the Long Night intact. Hope you don't mind that at all!

As for an explanation of Robb's visions - he does not get Warging powers first, like Bran. Robb's powers, because it is different from his brother, is based on greensight, true dreaming, but one where he can see timelines rather than individual events. If he tries to see a particular event, he has to filter through all of the "noise" first, to figure out what is actually going on. Only practically fixed events, like Jon's birth, would be clear scenes to him, and so Robb is in for an uphill battle, especially with all of the interesting actors that have taken notice.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Next: A lost northerner in King's Landing, and his attempt to keep his family safe at all costs!