Disclaimer:

A Song of Fire and Ice does not belong to me, nor do any of the images shown. This fic was created by me for entertainment purposes.

NA 1: This is a translation from Spanish, made with a text editor, so spelling and grammatical errors are possible. My apologies to all.

NA 2: If anyone wants to help with corrections or translations, and serve as an editor, please send me a private message. Again, my apologies to all.

Robb 1

Two hours had passed since his death. Two hours since his return to life. Two hours since he read the letter and sent away Maester Luwin and everyone in the audience chamber where the old Robb attended to the peasants surrounding Winterfell.

He had transmigrated to the Song of Ice and Fire and was now Robb Stark, who would die prematurely a year later. The time was right around the time he received the letter from his sister, Sansa Stark, informing him of his father Eddard Stark's arrest. Now it was… He was Robb Stark and he also had all his memories….

No, his memories were there from the beginning and he didn't have to assimilate anything. Even his feelings. But he had mixed everything in a disproportion of a thousand to one. Robb Stark was like a small village under construction while he was a whole planet in the twenty-first century. Robb Stark's consciousness had taken a back seat, every aspect of it overtaken in thoughts, emotions and feelings.

The transmigrated had had fifty years of life in a world where a five year old already surpassed Robb in knowledge. It was no surprise that she barely felt like him in a place far removed from his mind. Still, his emotions upon receiving that letter, along with the knowledge of what would happen in the future, filled him with sadness and helplessness as he learned of his own fate and that of his family.

The soul that merged with him did not know these feelings. He was an orphan who lived his childhood in misery. He did not know the love of a family and no one was important to him. He died alone, sorting people into two groups: those who could be useful to him and those who could not. But for Robb, this was unthinkable. His family would always come first. Even now that he knew his own future and knew of the grotesque end that could await him, and when he felt fear, dread, revulsion and disgust at his atrocious end, he would not hesitate for a second to throw himself into battle to defend his family. No matter if history repeated itself or if his death was even worse.

This didn't mean he was the same person, because his thinking about everything else had taken a 160-degree turn and he had very different opinions about everything. So much so that, if it weren't for his marked feelings towards his family, he would say he was a completely different person.

…

Robb sighed after controlling his thoughts, adjusting his emotions and reviewing in his mind what he could use to survive. Beside him, lay Grey Wind, who gave him a questioning look when he looked at him. Robb reached out and stroked his head, wondering if his knowledge of the future would ensure his survival. Despite them, this story had already progressed to such an extent that he was deep in the war and no time remained for him to take advantage of his technological knowledge, which, as a mechanical engineer, was plentiful and could work wonders in a medieval world.

Now all that would, at most, give him a few strategic advantages on the battlefield, not an overwhelming advantage as it would be to have arrived at least a year or two earlier.

-Send in Maester Luwin! -Robb ordered, and a few seconds later, the scrawny maester, who was already somewhat bald, entered the huge audience chamber. Behind him hurried Hodor, carrying Bran in a basket. He seemed to have invited himself, but that was all right, he would stay at Winterfell, and Robb had a month to teach him too many things. The three people approached the throne.

-What does the letter say? -Bran asked apprehensively. Robb put away the letter he still held in his hands, which was actually a small folded parchment that a raven had brought.

-The king has been murdered by Queen Cersei, and she has accused father of treason to keep him from being made regent. Now father is her prisoner, and she demands that we kneel and recognize her as queen regent and her bastard son, the fruit of incest, Joffrey Waters, as the new king," Robb explained without skipping a beat. Maester Luwin looked at him in surprise and Bran was stunned.

-My lord…" Robb raised his hand.

-Master Luwin, this is not the time to clarify doubts, I have already reflected for two hours on this matter, it is time to take action, then we will talk about the details. Now send ravens to the banners to gather their hosts and report to Winterfell to go and rescue father," Robb ordered.

Maester Luwin looked at him with some unfamiliarity, but Robb paid him no heed and just stared at him, waiting for him to carry out his orders. Maester Luwin forgot any complaints and hurried to carry out his orders.

-Will Father be all right? -Bran asked. "Father is doomed because Littlefinger won't let him get out alive no matter what," Robb thought.

-Bran, father is in great danger, and it's up to us to save him, but he's not the only one, because Sansa, Arya, and all of us could die," Robb said, and Bran blanched and nearly burst into tears. Hodor cried in alarm at his reaction, "And only you can help us survive," Robb finished, cutting off Bran's crying before it began. Bran looked at him stunned, and seemed to be trying to assimilate his last words.

-I?" he asked in a high-pitched voice, after almost a minute of confusion, and from his tone, he still didn't understand anything.

This Bran was not the one from the TV series, this Bran was just an eight year old boy, almost a baby. Besides, he was a spoiled child, used to everyone treating him well because the bastard was extremely cute. Even now, after spending a month asleep because of his assassination attempt and being left in his bones, he was still cute, his pale skin, reddish hair, fine features and blue eyes.

He was the best Leidy Stark and her husband could give in terms of men, his female version would be Sansa Stark, but still, he was a step below this brat.

Robb was overcome with tenderness and felt like hugging and comforting him, but held back only because he was an older man. Had he been the original Robb, he would have told him a blatant lie, like everything would be all right, just so he wouldn't see him sad. Robb nodded gravely.

-That's right, all our lives depend on you and the magic you've inherited," Robb said solemnly. Bran frowned and pouted.

-Robb, I am not a child," Bran said. Robb sighed.

-No, you are a child, and that is why you have not realized the magic you possess, which we all possess, and which is now our only advantage over our enemies, adversaries, rivals and traitors, who wait for a moment of weakness to plunge a dagger into our backs," Robb said gravely, and held up a hand for Bran to be silent as he leaned back on the throne and made himself comfortable.

-Bran, you are still a boy and reason dictates that you cannot be trusted with any responsibility. However, these are desperate times and even children will have to fight to keep their lives in exchange for their innocence. Therefore, I will tell you the history of our family, part of it, legends that today are considered myths and that only a few people in this world will be able to tell you if they are true or tales, but I will also tell you about magic, which is real and is in each of us, but in you it is stronger and can give us an overwhelming advantage over our enemies.

"Let us begin with the Age of Dawn, the time of legends that tells of the coming of the First Men, our ancestors, to Westeros," Robb said and spent an hour telling Bran about the First Men, their encounter with the Children of the Forest, the coming of the Andals, the Rhoynar and above all, the Long Night, describing the magic they could use and its ways of manifesting itself and how it could be used.

…

-Am I a skinwalker? -Bran asked excitedly, because at this point he was already having wolf dreams with Summer and hearing about the skinwalkers, he had no trouble relating them to himself. Robb shook his head.

-No, I am a skinwalker, Jon is a skinwalker, Arya, Sansa and even Rickon, but you are different, you are a greenshifter," said Robb.

Bran opened his eyes wide because Robb had just told him that the green-watchers were the wizards of the Children of the Forest and could do such crazy things as sinking part of a continent if many of them got together. Alone, they were also something extraordinary, because they could predict the future, be skinwalkers of many animals, control them, see through their eyes… In short, be the best spies in the world and in this world where magic was scarce, without any consequences.

-But I can't see the future," Bran said with a frown. As a child, he did not doubt Robb's words, and thanks to his dreams, he took it for granted that everything was true.

-No? -asked Robb, looking him straight in the eye. Didn't you dream something before you woke from your dream? -he added. Bran shuddered.

-No!" he said as if to stifle a memory. Robb nodded as if he understood.

-The future is a terrible thing, and you need not remember it. It is enough for us that you learn to use the animals, and chiefly the ravens, to make you the eyes of our army as it marches south, and the guardian of the north while I am away. That is why you must be strong and train your magic to help us all. If you fail, none of us will have a future," Robb sentenced, and Bran, almost crushed by the pressure, nearly burst into tears, but he gritted his teeth and nodded, while Hodor lent his support, saying Hodor -to comfort him.

-Well, now go get something to eat, you're in the bones, and you'll need strength, because we'll start your raven control training tonight. I still have to attend to some people and I won't be able to accompany you," said Robb, dismissing him. And Bran, don't forget that your magic is our only salvation. If anyone finds out about it, we'll all be dead," he added before the boy left. Bran began to shed tears, already overwhelmed by the responsibility placed upon him.

The original Robb would be devastated by what he had done, but the present Robb felt only a little sadness and melancholy for taking a child into a war where he would witness horrors that would ruin his innocence and perhaps his future life if he could not overcome them. Robb Stark would never risk his brother's welfare, so he would not even mention the matter to him.

As Bran left, Theon Greyjoy forced his way past the guards guarding the hall door, and Robb signaled them not to stop him. Theon, already a man of seventeen compared to Robb's fourteen, brown hair, brown eyes, sun-tanned skin, slim build and rough but well-cut and thick clothes to protect him from the cold, wore tall leather boots and an expression of confidence that diminished a little when he saw the cold look Robb rested on him. A look that wasn't feigned, because Robb was wondering what to make of this guy.

Theon Greyjoy was a useless bore wherever he stood. He was of no use to him, because his father, Balon Greyjoy, lord of the Iron Islands, and who was supposed to keep quiet with his heir as hostage at Winterfell, cared nothing for this guy's life, and as soon as the northern army turned its back, he would attack without hesitation, making Robb have to cut this idiot's head off.

Robb, of course, would not do Balon Greyjoy's dirty work, and he was already impatient to get rid of this guy, while far away, the emotions of the original Robb were on the verge of collapse, or would be if this collapse was nothing more than a part of the imagination of the current Robb Stark, to whom Theon Greyjoy's fate did not give a damn.

Theon Greyjoy was worthless to his father. To a capable man, this would make no difference, and even without the support of his family, he could rise on his own, but capable men were in short supply. Robb was not one of them, and neither was Theon, for he was a whoremonger, spineless, living off his family name, and ignorant to boot. In this world of madmen, traitors and conspirators, he was the graphic description of cannon fodder.

-Robb, what happened? -Theon asked in a serious tone as he approached the throne and saw Robb's expression.

-The queen has killed the king, and father, who was appointed regent in his stead, as befitting his position as Hand, has been taken prisoner by her. Now she demands that we kneel before her bastard son, the fruit of incest, Joffrey Waters," Robb explained. Theon showed a shocked expression and did not seem to know how to answer or ask anything.

-I have ordered Maester Luwin to summon the banners. We will march to King's Landing to free father," Robb explained. Now, please return to your daily chores. I need to get a few more things ready with the servants at Winterfell to prepare supplies and get things in order for Bran," Robb motioned for him to leave. Theon looked at him twice as confused as before, since Robb always asked for his advice and had him at his side for everything. His behavior at this moment left him surprised.

"Guards, summon the steward, the master-at-arms, the captain of the guard, and the keeper of the kitchen," Robb ordered. As the guards entered, he looked to the confused Theon to get him out of there as well.

…

Two hours later, four after arriving there, Robb had ordered to summon the banners, following his actions in Song of Ice and Fire. What he did not do following the original story was to tell the true reasons for his father's imprisonment, preparing for the future. He had also ordered a census of all the children of Winterfell and to tell him if any of them were missing their tongues, obtaining three positive results which he had them assigned to tasks outside the central areas of the castle and placed under strict surveillance with orders to inform him of their movements.

He also checked available supplies such as weapons, food, drink and clothing. The old Robb knew how to calculate how much of each thing an army would need based on their numbers, and the new Robb collaborated with safety and hygiene measures to fit them into his plans. Although he was not happy, the supplies or accoutrements of war were garbage. His troops would be peasants armed with spears and wooden shields and, if anything, leather armor. No warriors wrapped in steel, of those he would have no more than two hundred, and that was already a huge number because his father was the Lord of the North. For the other lords, he could expect half that number, and peasants armed with whatever they could find on their own farms, including sickles and picks.

Robb concluded that the battles of the Seven Kingdoms were fights of invalids and understood how a few knights were able to fight their way through an army of peasants. They would be like wolves in a chicken pen, real armored tanks, fighting against poorly armed infantry.

Robb was also helpless in the face of this disappointment, for the Starks were poor and had no money to buy anything. He could get millions in gold if given at least six months' time, but he had not even a month to do anything, and could only hope to hold out long enough to get the funding and resources he needed, including armor, swords, horses, spears, shields, and food.

-My lord, it is already mid-afternoon, I should eat something before continuing our meeting," said Maester Luwin, who apparently had already finished sending the letters and according to his orders was taken there. The other servants, with whom he was taking inventory of the things he had at his disposal to try to save his skin and not die in a few months, nodded in support of Maester Luwin.

Robb looked at them all with pity. These poor wretches didn't know how much trouble they were in, and in the original story, they all died, even before Robb. Robb decided to ignore their nonsense and looked at Maester Luwin.

-"Maester Luwin, did you have your lunch before you came here? -Robb asked, who had already ordered the guards to make sure the old man had his lunch.

Robb was only fourteen, he could do and undo without suffering the consequences, but the maester was an old man, skipping a meal could be a serious matter for him. Maester Luwin nodded.

-Well, the rest of you get out, I have business to discuss with Maester Luwin. A day without food won't kill me, and as a wise man once said, I'll rest when I die," Robb said, shooing everyone away with a wave of his hand.

He only had in mind that if he did nothing now, his head would roll, and at the thought of that, he felt no fatigue, for his survival instincts whipped his will, under the firm determination of not dying a second time, let alone being decapitated or stabbed.

-Maester Luwin, as you know, once you leave, Winterfell will be under Bran's control," Robb said as the others left and the guards closed the gates. Maester Luwin nodded regretfully, he still seemed to want him to go and eat his lunch. Maester, Bran is only eight years old, and most of the castle's tasks will depend on you and your advice to him, so I will explain to Bran that in all administrative matters, it will be his decision that will prevail over yours, unless they are military matters, in which I will leave someone else in charge," Robb explained.

-My lord, it will be an honor to guard Winterfell for when you return to your father's side," said Maester Luwin, offering him encouragement.

-Maester Luwin, my father is dead now, as my grandfather was when he fell to King Aerys. And I may never return. However, I will do my best so that if this scenario comes to pass, our enemies will suffer such a loss that they will have no choice but to make peace, and Bran may survive. Therefore, there are certain things I must discuss with you which you will need to keep absolutely secret.

"The first is that the Iron Men will attack as soon as the North is without an army, but if I inform my lords of this, they will no longer wish to go south with me, and we will lose this war before it has begun," Robb said, and Maester Luwin was stunned.

-My lord Robb, your father has as his ward?

-Theon Greyjoy, son of Balon Greyjoy," Robb interrupted. A son of no consequence to Balon Greyjoy, whom he despises for being raised as they call them, men of the Greenlands. Maester Luwin, the Iron Men are pirates, rapists and murderers, they have no honor and no respect for anyone who is not a murderer like them. Theon is just a spineless whoremonger, not worth a copper to Balon or the men of the Isles, so they will attack as soon as he departs south.

"I will not discuss this matter further with you. What you must do is to listen to my instructions for when this happens," Robb ruled. In the first place, the Iron Men are pirates and they are all just thieves. They will attack the coast, but they will not be able to take the cities or fortresses, so we can repel them safely, using a small concentrated force, without fear of taking damage.

"From this point of view, and taking this weak point into account, Balon Greyjoy's priority will be to make sure that the army cannot turn around and come back, so he will undoubtedly want to take Moat Cailin. I'll save a little surprise for that.

"What I wanted to discuss with you is the state in which Winterfell is to be held by that time and how to act at the moment when news of the Iron Men's attack is received, because I will be far away and it may not be possible to communicate with me. Therefore, you will pretend to receive the orders which I will leave at this time by raven letter and execute them by giving them to the keeper of the guard. These orders are as follows…

…

The next few days, Robb finished taking inventory and checked the miserable state of his sword, spear and bow training. In short, it was shit, and any well-trained knight would sweep the floor with it. It wasn't outrageous, because Robb was only fourteen and those knights would far surpass him in training and experience, but it sucked. The worst part was that there was no time to make improvements, he could only trust his sad life to Grey Wind, so he made sure to feed the direwolf well and give him the best cuts of meat to grow as fast as possible. Robb did not give up his training, but in a fight, he would not bet his life on his own abilities.

On the other hand, despite his disadvantages as a warrior, in the future, his end would come because of a betrayal, which was the result of terrible decisions made by himself. Therefore, Robb's main objective in this war was to watch his back and see to it that potential traitors were under his eyes at all times. He would also take advantage of any excuse to get rid of them.

Robb would not throw away his technological advantages either, even if he could not use them in this war that was already upon him. He had to win or die with what he had now, but that didn't mean he should wait until the war was over to start using his otherworldly knowledge. That was why he had sent for the Manderlys, who he could use as his contacts with his future economic allies. He had also made a bunch of doodles that Maester Luwin turned into a flawless book.

The soul who merged with him was a mechanical engineer, but he had a computer that drew for him. Paper and pencil only served him to make notes on the sides of the printed sheets, so he was a terrible draftsman and his handwriting was horrible. Now his book was ready and awaited the arrival of the Manderlys. If he survived this war, he would already have a solid foundation to deal with the aftermath.

As for the betrayals, Robb was already preparing. One of them, caused by the death of Rickard Karstark's sons, could be easily avoided, not by avoiding his meeting with Jaime Lannister, because that plan was good and he was not going to change it unless the situation was unfavorable. His plan was simply to prevent the Kingslayer from making any disaster by taking care of him before he could do so.

To that end, he had a good crossbow ready and was also thinking of other support tactics that would be considered scrappy in this world. But since learning of his future and with all the knowledge he now had, thinking about honor made him grit his teeth. It was that and his lack of brains that caused his mother's death and his own. "It won't happen again!" sentenced Robb in his mind.

As for Bran's training, the boy was a prodigy when it came to being a skinwalker. In just a week, he was already in control of an entire flock of ravens, always under Robb's strict watch and under the cover of darkness. Robb constantly warned him that if anyone found out about his advantage as a greenshifter, they could kiss their lives goodbye.

While training, Robb told Bran about the Three-Eyed Raven and left some messages for him as soon as he made contact, if at all. Robb guaranteed that he would take Bran with him when the time was right, but that he must first settle the war in the south and keep the north intact.

Two weeks after Robb was born again, willing to survive in this world of betrayal and death, and beyond that, lead the north to glory, and be cruel and cunning to all those who would play with his and his family's lives, the northern lords began to arrive along with their troops.

NA: Don't forget to leave your comments, bookmark, follow, and subscribe.