Leman Stark

(3rd Person POV)

"So you want to be born as Robb Stark and you also want to have the abilities and power of Leman Russ and still keep to the 'normal' stature of Robb Stark?", the ROB asked the soul after they went through the entire Reincarnation mumbo jumbo.

"If that's possible, yes."

"So is Leman your favourite or is it because of House Stark?"

"Well, I really like Warhammer 40k, as long as I don't have to go there, naturally. And I hated the way the Stark family was just a plot device to set up villains. I imagine if Catelyn Tully didn't birth so many children the entire plot could never have happened ..."

"Now you're going a bit too far no? Stannis and Renly Baratheon would have fought against the Lannisters either way and Daenerys Targaryen is also a player in the game. So there was more than enough game to play, even without the Starks."

"Well, I would say that there is only a very slim chance of that being true. Bran the Broken needed to be crippled and then had to visit the three-eyed raven. Sansa had a f*cked-up life until the end of the GOT storyline. That's one harsh way to get to know the truth of the world you live in. Jon Snow was hated by his good mother, then went to the Wall, then was killed only to be revived later, only to have to learn what happened to his family and then to fight against the Living Dead. I think Robb actually had the best life ... the quickest death if you will. Arya travelled across the entirety of Westeros and then parts of Essos and we don't want to talk about the youngest Stark. F*cking Ramsay Bolton."

"Aha and what do you want to say?"

"I don't know. Just venting at this point."

"So you want to change the fate of House Stark?"

"Indeed. I reckon I could cause some chaos ... as ironic as that sounds. Kill some Boltons ... all of them, the Freys, most of the Lannisters and do other cool stuff while I'm at it."

"*Sigh* Do you have any idea what would happen if a Primarch-level powerhouse starts to play the Game of Thrones? It would be a massacre, not even interesting."

"You think so? Saitama exists though. Well if I'm going there, I want to have the best protection I can. I would take the Lion, but I don't want to be associated with the Lannisters."

"Fair enough. So tell me why you don't want to be an OC Stark.", the ROB asks. 

"... You know I don't really know that myself. Huh ... I guess that could also be useful, now that you mention it. When do you reckon I should be born then?"

"I don't know. But if you are born after Benjen, you will also be quite young for the story of Game of Thrones or ASOIAF. However, age isn't really a problem for you with the anatomy of a Primarch."

"You are correct. Well, Benjen was born in 267 AC or a bit later. The tourney at Harrenhal will happen in 281 AC and Roberts Rebellion a year later up to 283 AC. Meaning if I wanted to fight in that war, I would have to be older than Benjen. What to do? ..."

"Well then if that's all, I wish you good luck. Oh, and I'll have to take away what you know about the world. It wouldn't be any fun that way, would it? Okay, byeeeee...", the ROB says and finally sends the soul on its way. 

"NO waiiiiiiii-"

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- 268 AC - 

House Stark and all of Winterfell were nervous. Lady Lyarra Stark was giving birth again. She had already given birth four times and it wasn't a problem, but this time it seemed to be different. This time, the babe was not like his predecessors. It was bigger.

As the hours passed, Lady Lyarra was panting hard and trying to get through the waves of pain she was feeling. The Maester was doing his best to help her, but he was also surprised at the size of the babe. Lord Rickard Stark was sitting at his wife's side and held her hand for some comfort. 

In front of the chamber, four children were waiting in angst as they heard the screams of their mother, trying to squeeze out the babe. 

Finally, after many hours, it was finished. The cries of a newborn... weren't heard. It sounded more like the roar of a beast. But what surprised the Maester and the Stark parents was the look of their newest addition. The boy's hair ... it was blonde. It was very unusual for one of their children to have blonde hair since all of them had black or brown hair, so this was new. But Rickard never thought about his wife being unfaithful, that much was impossible, they loved each other far too much. 

He simply saw his newest son as a wonder. And he was in for a rollercoaster ride. Because his youngest child was a wolf through and through. 

The news spread and the youngest was introduced to his siblings. All of Winterfell was happy about the newborn and a feast was held in his honour. It seemed like nothing could ever happen to House Stark ...

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The years passed and the Stark children grew. Some more than others. Brandon who was the oldest was also the strongest and tallest, followed by Ned and Lyanna. Leman who was supposed to be the youngest, was not the smallest of them. That was Benejen, resulting in some teasing from Brandon, making the boy sad. But Leman never bothered with such trivial matters. 

There was an intensity to him, that was unusual for a young boy like him. It unnerved his siblings in the beginning. Lyanna was the only one who interacted with Leman normally and the bond between the two was unbreakable. Over time, the others also followed suit and learned that underneath the stoic and brutish appearance, beat a caring heart for his family. 

There was a wildness inside Leman that surpassed that of Brandon and Lyanna but he knew how to control it. When he reached 2 name days he started leaving the castle of Winterfell and went to the Wolfswood. When it happened the first time, all of House Stark was worried sick and Rickard sent out multiple search parties. It took hours until they finally found him sleeping under a tree with a group of wolves. 

After that first time, it became clear that despite the blonde hair, Leman was a true Stark and his connection to wolves was taken as a sign. A true member of House Stark. 

Things continued to be weird. Added to the faster growth of Leman came increased strength and intelligence. The Maester noticed this during their lessons, in which Leman never seemed to listen but always knew the answers to all his questions. The rough exterior but high intelligence were things Rickard Stark noted and thought about how to use in the future. Because the time for fostering came near for the youngest Stark. 

Originally, Rickard Stark didn't want to send his three youngest to be fostered but now that he knows about the remarkable abilities of Leman, he would be stupid not to use them. He wanted to strengthen the North in any way possible and Leman would allow him to do just that. 

Brandon was already being fostered at Barrowton with Lord Dustin and Eddard in the Eyrie under Jon Arryn. The North didn't have many other choices and a fosterage in the Riverlands might have been a good idea, had Rickard Stark not planned to wed Catelyn Tully the eldest daughter of Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun. For Eddard, Rickard wasn't certain yet, but he was sure that Leman would be best fostered in the North as well. 

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(Leman Stark POV)

To think that that bastard robbed me of my memories of this world. Thankfully, he didn't take anything else. I know all about my past life and also about the wishes I made. I know that I have the body, at least I will have the body of Leman Russ in the future. I grow at an accelerated rate, but still not Primarch-level shit. That's good as I would not like to be seen as more of an anomaly than I already am. 

I don't really care about what others think of me, but my options are limited, now that I do not know this world. I feel myself growing stronger every day. I learn as much as I can, even though the teaching style of the Maester is terribly boring. I don't like to waste my time reading and rather enjoy any physical activities. I do wonder if I'll ever grow to become as tall as Leman Russ was. 3 meters is very large. I would never be able to have kids this way ... at least not the conventional way. But let's not think about it for now. 

I found out that this is a medieval type of world that has magic elements to it ... I despise that. I don't know why, but it feels like my entire being despises magic in its entirety. I know that Leman Russ was famed in Imperial history for his hatred of psychic powers and sorcery. But I wasn't aware that it was to this extent. The mere thought of these Red Priestesses I read about or the 'god' they worship makes my blood boil and I feel like ripping them apart. 

I have to deal with my emotions which are getting ... 'raw' in a sense. It feels like there could be a chance I explode if I don't control myself. But that should only be temporary until I adapt to my body and reach maturity. But there is a barbaric nature to my thoughts and behaviour that I can't turn off fully. I love nature and hate to be cooped up inside a small room or a castle for too long. 

Fighting comes veeeeerryyy natural to me. I might as well be a juggernaut to these weaklings. And I am but 6 name days old. Imagine what would happen when I have fully grown. The world is not ready for me, the ROB was right. Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. I will make use of my abilities and one of the cool ones, I always wanted to try out is gaining memories by consuming DNA or RNA of other species.

The Omophagea - the Remembrancer. Space Marines can gain part of a person's or creature's memory by eating its flesh. It is part of Astartes's gene seed; as a Primarch, I should also have that. I wasn't sure initially, but I tried it out and it actually works. I have to say that it is an extraordinary experience to do. But in a world as treacherous as this, it might be one of the most useful abilities I could have. 

I have been 'learning' how to fight using a sword and a bow and arrow. Although only the basics since I am still only 6 name days or whatever. I don't really need training anyway. Leman Russ was one of the best 1v1 fighters among the Primarchs. I will break many people in the future, I can already see it. I won't have a very good relationship with most people in this world, since it is built on lies and deception. Most Lords and Ladies are lying pieces of shit. I say pieces of shit, because I can literally smell lies, at least I hope that's what I'm smelling. 

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I walk towards Father's solar as he has called me for something important. I knock on the door. 

*Knock knock knock*

"Enter.", I hear my father's voice and open the door. 

"I'm here. What is it?", I ask getting to the point directly. 

My attitude, as Father calls it, at first unnerved many people but that's just because they aren't used to someone saying the truth to their faces like I do. Why waste time with flowery words, when I can get to the bottom of the discussion in a few words? 

"Sit down, son. As you know, both Brandon and Ned are being fostered somewhere. Brandon in Barrowtown and Ned in the Eyrie. I wasn't planning on sending you away for fosterage, but I changed my mind. Your ideas and intelligence as well as your rather blunt but honest nature, changed my mind and I believe I found the perfect place for you to go.", Father says. 

"..."

"..."

"Well?"

"Bear Island."

"Say what?"

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I had this idea and had to post it. I will continue the Viserys story don't worry.