Chapter 1: A Stark Awakening
Updated/edited on 3/2/25
The pain was the first sensation I registered—a relentless throbbing, a dull hammer striking the inside of my skull. As I tried to push through the fog enveloping my mind, a chorus of voices emerged, urgent yet soft, slicing through the haze. Memories that I didn't recall began to surface, somewhat familiar but cloudy, pounding in my head alongside someone speaking.
"My lord my lord, can you hear me?" A man's voice, steady but tinged with worry.
I groaned, struggling to open my eyes. Light streamed through narrow windows, harsh against the rough stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and damp wool. As my vision focused, I recognized him as an older man with a chain around his neck, worry etched on his lined face—Maester Luwin. The name surfaced in my mind with what felt like many other long-lost memories, bringing with it a rush of recognition but it couldn't be.
Maester Luwin? I ask in a voice deeper than I remember.
Before I could digest this bewildering revelation, another voice broke through, laced with emotion. "Robb, my son, how do you feel?"
I turned my head slowly, wincing at the pain that lanced through me, and there she was. Auburn hair framed a face full of concern—sharp blue eyes piercing through my bewilderment. Catelyn Stark. My breath caught in my throat. This was real, not a dream, not some elaborate fantasy. The solid stone beneath me, the weight of the furs on my chest, the searing pain all screamed reality.
But I wasn't just Erick anymore. I was Robb Stark.
Panic welled within me, hot and suffocating, but I pushed it down. If I truly found myself in the world of *Game of Thrones*, inhabiting the body of Robb Stark, I couldn't afford to lose my cool. Not now, not with Catelyn's worried eyes fixed on mine and Maester Luwin hovering like an ominous shadow.
"I… I'm alright, Mother," I rasped, the words sounding foreign and deep, filled with that distinct Northern burr I had heard countless times on screen. "Just a bit dizzy."
Relief washed over Catelyn's features as she brushed a stray hair from my forehead. "Thank the gods. You gave us all quite a fright, Robb. Promise me you'll be more careful around those horses."
I nodded, managing a weak smile. "Aye, Mother. I'll be careful."
Inside, however, my mind was a storm of chaotic thoughts. I was speaking with Catelyn Stark. This was insanity. But I steeled my expression, drawing on years of experience navigating awkward situations. If I was to survive this bizarre twist of fate, I had to convincingly portray Robb Stark.
Maester Luwin moved closer, scrutinizing me with those perceptive yet caring eyes of his. "You were training at the stables when one of the horses reared and struck you in the head. We feared you might not wake, but you appear stronger than we anticipated. Still, you must rest—such a blow can muddle the mind."
A horse kick to the head, I thought, grounding myself amidst the tumult. That was it—my ticket into the world of Westeros. It didn't clear up the "why," but it provided a solid foundation. An excuse, at least. If I acted strangely, even with Robbs's memories to help me I could chalk it up to the injury.
"Thank you, Maester," I replied, infusing my tone with gratitude and authority, as I imagined Robb would. "I'll rest, I promise."
Luwin nodded, though his gaze lingered, as if he sensed that something was slightly off. My stomach twisted, but he ultimately turned to Catelyn. "He needs sleep, my lady. I'll return in the morning to check on him."
Catelyn hesitated, then leaned down to press her cool lips against my forehead. A wave of guilt crashed over me for pretending to be her son. "Sleep well, Robb," she murmured. "We'll talk more tomorrow."
As the door creaked shut, I exhaled sharply, a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Alone at last, I could think.
With a wince, I sat up, the room spinning before finally stabilizing. Small but cozy, the chamber welcomed me with a crackling fire in the hearth and a heavy wooden bed piled high with furs. It felt unmistakably like Winterfell—rugged, practical, and slightly intimidating. My legs swung over the edge as I stood, testing my balance. The dizziness was receding, but the persistent throb in my head reminded me of the accident that had brought me here.
Two years before the show, I reflected on my situation, unsure of how I came to this realization but certain of it nonetheless. That was how long I had to navigate through this world. Robb Stark was now fifteen—young, yes, but certainly not without power. I had time to orchestrate change.
But how would I change it were would I start? I'd watched the show, devoured the books, immersed myself in countless fan theories and fics, yet none of that made me a lord. Still, I possessed a critical advantage of foreknowledge and of what lay ahead. The Lannisters, the Red Wedding, the looming threat of the White Walkers. If I could wield that knowledge, perhaps I could alter the tragic course of the Stark family. Perhaps I could ensure their survival.q
First things first, I had to embrace the head injury as well and make sure to keep up a routine of paying visits to the gods' woods. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep Rob's personality totally, even with his memories, so it'll be better to go all in with change while the reason for said change, at least to everyone else's knowledge, is fresh in their minds. If I behaved like a stranger in Robb's skin, it wouldn't take long for Catelyn to fret, Ned to frown, and Jon or Theon to notice. But I had my horse kick as an alibi; a rattled mind could excuse many peculiarities..
I ambled to the window, peering out into the courtyard below. It was dusk, the sky a bruised purple, and Winterfell buzzed with life—guards patrolling the walls, servants scurrying about with buckets, and the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer echoing through the air. It was beautiful in its harsh and unforgiving way. But beneath that beauty lay a chilling truth: I was in the game now, with many fan theories and ideas twirling in my mind—Ramsay, dragons, giants, ice zombies as well as lions, tigers, and bears, oh my! I chuckled to myself, though I sobered up almost immediately. I am now Rob Stark, and I will win this game of thrones because the stakes in my old life and now have never been higher.