Hello everyone,
Before you begin reading, I would like to make a few important clarifications.
I do not own any of the characters or the Game of Thrones franchise. All rights and credit belong to the original creators, including Game of Thrones and George R. R. Martin. This is purely a fan-made story created out of admiration for the original work.
Please also be aware that this story contains dark and mature themes. It will include graphic violence, blood, gore, sexual assault, strong language, and other disturbing elements. The male lead is intentionally written as a morally corrupt and deeply flawed character — he is not meant to be kind or heroic, but rather monstrous. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
Additionally, I kindly ask for your patience and understanding. English is not my first language, and I may use AI tools to help correct grammar and improve readability. In the past, my The Walking Dead fanfiction received criticism, as some readers felt the writing sounded too robotic due to AI assistance. I understand those concerns and respect those perspectives. This time, I am taking extra care to review and refine each chapter personally to ensure the story feels more natural and engaging. Because of this, updates may take a little longer.
Thank you for your support and for giving this story a chance. I truly appreciate it, and I hope you enjoy the journey ahead.
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The day began like any other in a classroom full of teens listening to their teacher talk about history.
"That's why they used these tunnels to launch different assaults near the river. Any questions?" The teacher asked, looking around the room for anyone who might have one, but saw none of his students ask anything. After a while, he continued the lesson.
But as he turned his head to the board, he missed the cold, calculating gaze of a senior student sitting in the back, staring fixated at the widow with dark circles under his eyes. Victor was his name. He stood at 6.5 feet tall, with black, messy hair and a slim, athletic build.
The reason why he might be tired? well its only because he's been watching game of Thrones the entire day yesterday, to where Araya stabbed the Night King in the back, he was enjoying the show so much he completely neglected to rest or eat properly, why hadn't his parents told him to go to sleep or rest you might wonder well of course it is because he has none too begin with father ran out on him and his mom than his mother died at child birth so yea.
Because of this, he was integrated into the foster care system and will be surprised that it also didn't go well over his 18 years of life, like he had 15 different foster homes, the reason for why so many was for a very few reasons the first 10 years of his life he was given to a few fosters parents who either neglected him or used him as free labore forcing him to learn from early age that he can only relied on himself because when he either cried, complained or whined about any unfairness he was punished in many different of ways and in the end was sent to a different foster home with the label of a troublesome ungrateful brat, well as you all can see with this type of growing environment Victor slowly grew up to be a cold and dark personality see more like a opportunistic than a child.
Now here Victor is sitting alone, friendless, cold, with only his dark thoughts to himself; he actually took quite an interest in warlike tactics as well as medieval times hence why he was watching game of thrones all day yesterday on his phone in his bed, but as he was looking outside Victor slowly started drifting off and slowly but surely he laid his head on the desk closing his eyes to darkness and the fading voice of his history teacher still talking about how the economy or something wishing he was in game of thrones.
Little did he know someone or something heard his wish. The moment Victor woke up again, he slowly opened his blue eyes to a rotting wooden ceiling with cold stone walls, lying on a pile of hay as sun rays drifted into the room from the creaky, crooked wooden windows.
Vicktor blinked his eyes quickly, then shot up, looking left and right around the small old shack with wide-eyed disbelief. As he slowly gained his bearings and his mind caught up to what he was seeing, he noticed that everything was bigger than it should be, and he looked at himself, a 6-year-old child with dirty rags for clothes and a pale, skinny body looking at his now child body victor mouth slowly opened and he said the first words that came to his mind.
"What the fuck..." Vicktor exclaimed, mind reeling at this. Now he pinched his arm and felt the pain, but he knew that was not necessary because he felt weakness and tired of his new body telling him already that this was indeed not a dream, and he slowly sat down, thinking carefully and memories not his own slowly begun unveiling his new life he was Victor flowers and he was in a small town between the Ashford of the reach and black heaven of the Stormlands he was in fucking game of thrones not only that he was bastard of the reach, witch lord his father or lady his mother is he does not know, and from what he is seeing in these memories he is a known bastard and not very well liked,
Signing at this, Vicktor thought carefully and looked around the shack. He found a hidden wooden box that was placed under a loose plank on the floor that had 17 copper pennies and 2 silver stags and a few ragged clothes in the comer as well as Modly bread tucked away in a storage box in the other conner, Victor grimed at this and realized he needed food to start getting this weak body back up to speed and he garbed the coins and tied it up in a rag pocketing it away and stared to walk towards the wooden door and unlocked the Lach that was locking the door with squeak opened it and stepped out,
Victor raised his hand to his eyes to block out the bright sunlight, he slowly lowered his hands as his eyes adjusted and looked around to the small farming town he saw a compile of houses and farms lands around with a wooden wall surrounding the town there's a lumber mill in the conner of the town and a market area in the middle of town, his shack stood on top of a hill allowing him to see a bit more of the town and there was a forest surrounding the town with mountains in the distance, Taking in a deep breath he marched forward under the gaze of the villagers he saw scornful looks shot at him almost forgetting he was a bastard and they were frowned upon by the seven.
After someone spat in his face, Victor decided to travel the alleys and streets with the least amount of people as possible and stood near groups of villagers listening to any intel on the current timeline, he's in, or any intel that might be useful. Victor quickly crew annoyed at these idiots, but learned that the Targaryen ruled the seven kingdoms still, and from the intel, it's the current king who is that mad king, meaning that Robert's rebellion has not yet come.
But he does not care about that at the moment, he first needs to survive so he went towards the gates of the town, which is called Oakhill he walked right by the guards at the gate they didn't even bother looking at him making Vicktor know that his birth a s a bastard is truly well know with was quite bothersome, so with a dark scowl Victor marched towards the forest edge and begun looking around for a straight sticks he found a few as well as a long straight branch, Victor was tired this weak and starving body is really quite a hindrance,
sitting down to rest he picked up a sharp looking stone nearby and slowly sharping the points of the sticks and long branch while he rested after a few hours his hands where sore but he still got up and walked towards where he can hear the sound of running water and came upon a small river and he was glad to see a few reeds and surprised to also find bamboo witch was not in the show but happy non the less and pulled out a very flexible bamboo tube and slowly begun carving the bamboo tube that until he noticed river fish swimming in the small river near a few rocks and his stomach growled in hunger so victor quickly got up picking up his now makeshift spear and stood near the rock standing still waiting for the fish that was frightened away to returned and after 30 or so minutes of waiting they slowly swam back moving between the rocks and reeds and as one big one got close to victor`s feet he stabbed forward with his spear aiming to quickly spear the fish but missed, Vicktor grumbled but still waited and after a few misses he at last speared a well sized fish,
With joy victor quickly got back to his resting spot leaving the fish daggling on the spear and continued to carve into the baboo tube when he smoothed it out weaved reeds together and made a short bow but it was not yet used to shooting instead victor placed a couple of dried Twiggs and leaves on a pile with a piece of branch in the middle he garbed a sharpen stick and fowlled it with the bow and pointing it to the flat spot of the dried branch now moving the bow back a forth the stick turned at the movement and victor slowly picked up pace until smoke started coming under the stick where he was drilling it victor quickly picked up a couple of dried leaves and placed it on the some and gently blew on amber until the dried leaves caught ablaze and he added small sticks to keep the fire going and slowly added different sizes of sticks from small to large to increase the fire size now he just had to insure the fire does not go out.
He had collected enough dried wood to keep the fire going, and he picked up the sharp stone and the fish and began gutting the fish from its belly and pulled out the intestines as well as cutting off the head and fins afterwards started scraping the sharp stone ageist its scales to remove them after 10 minuets the fish is ready to be cooked, Vicktor pulled out another sharp stick skewering the fish on it and slowly roasted it on the fire the smell from the cooking fish made Vicktor`s stomach constantly growl in hunger while licking his lips.
After about an hour had passed of cooking the fish and slowly eating it, Vicktor was careful not to eat too quickly, even if he wanted to, because he knew there are consensus of eating fast and too much with such a poor body as his, and he had to be careful of the fish bones so that don't get stuck in his throat.
patting his now silent belly and lay back looking at the slowly darkling skies he grabbed his stuff and walked back to town, Vicktor approached the gate as the sun was setting and the guards took notice of the new equipment the bastard had and looked at one another wondering if they should confiscate it than nodded at each other as one approached Vicktor and as for Vicktor he noticed one thing these where different guards from the ones this morning and when he recalled this bodies memories the one now walking towards him was one of the guards who enjoyed harassing the bustard and a real pain in the ass, with that in mind Vicktor had a dark gleam in his eyes as he knew he can't fight back at the moment.
The guard stood in front of Victor, held out his hands, and spoke in a gruff tone.
"You're not allowed into the town, armed brat, so hand over all those weapons," he basically snarled out. Vicktor looked up at the man with a scruffy beard wearing chain mail armor, holding a boar-tipped spear, and with cloth over his chest of a white son and chevron on an orange background signaling that he is a guard of House Ashford. Vicktor's outward appearance showed a meek boy slowly handing over his newly crafted tools while keeping his head down, but snarling in rage at this because, in his mind, he was plotting many ways to get back at these guards in the future.
Vicktor`s only option at the moment is to submit, or else be beaten and most likely killed by a man many times his age and well-trained and armed. Luckily, all those foster homes made him learn to play the act to lessen punishments or to get away with something, so he played the act to the fullest at the moment.
Vicktor handed over his weapons as the guard took them and left, while snarling in mockery, looking at Vicktor walking through the gate walking towards his hut on the hill but as he looked back at the guards he crew angry at see another 10 year old child holding a well-made bow and walked just by the guards while they ignored the kid making it clear that they had specifically targeted him.
Now, after sieving, he arrived at his rundown hut and lay down on the uncomfortable hay pile after ensuring everything was locked, but the rage and tiredness as his weakened body did not make it easy, and he soon fell soundly asleep with plots upon plots within his mind.
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