It's Rewind ⏪ Time

270 AC (or whenever Robert's Rebellion was)

On a field somewhere in the Riverlands, an army of Targaryen loyalists marched with their prince, the would-be father of the 'prince who was promised,' Rhaegar "Sissy Bitch" Targaryen.

Dressed in pitch-black armor adorned with murals symbolizing the strength of House Targaryen — the same house that lost the very thing that got them the Iron Throne — the delusional prince was on a quest to prove a prophecy he read during his emo teenage years.

The prophecy claimed the Messiah would be born of his line, which led him to kidnap (sure, she came willingly, but seriously, should we trust a hormonal teen, the daughter of a house with 8,000 years of history, to run off with an already married man who's clearly crazy and a pedophile?) Lyanna Stark, the only daughter of the Lord Paramount of the North.

After this, the Lord Paramount of the North, demanding his daughter's return, was burned alive with wildfire, his son, the heir to the North, choking to death on a collar while trying to save him.

This tragedy fulfilled the conditions to awaken an ancient being, a creature as old as House Stark itself, who now awaited the loyalist army on the battlefield.

On the other side of the battlefield sat one man on a throne of ice, alone but ready for a legendary battle: Aurelius "Motherf*cking" Fenris, the Ice Dragon of the North, the one-man army, the herald of death, and the reincarnator — basically me.

Having future knowledge wasn't all it was cracked up to be either.

Sure, I knew about Robert's Rebellion, the rise and fall of various houses, and even that whole mess with the White Walkers.

But knowing what's coming and being able to change it are two very different things.

I knew this Targaryen mess was just the beginning.

Dragons would come back in a big way, not just Rhaegar's delusions of grandeur. There would be a girl with silver hair and a destiny to fulfill, riding her dragons across the Narrow Sea.

And beyond that, a darkness almost as cold as I could summon would march from the Lands of Always Winter.

But first things first: dealing with this immediate Targaryen problem.

Rhaegar and his wildfire-happy family had to be stopped. As I made my way south, I couldn't help but smirk at the thought of how they'd react to me — an ancient warrior with more history than they could fathom, and enough icy fury to turn their hot flames to ash.

The Riverlands would be the first test.

I could handle Rhaegar and his army, it would send a message to everyone else: the North was done with their nonsense, and I was here to enforce that.

"Alright, Rhaegar," I muttered to myself as I marched, "let's see if your prophecy holds up against an ice-cold reality check."

The battlefield awaited, and with it, the chance to change the course of history.

Not just for the North, but for all of Westeros. And I was ready.

The future might be uncertain, but one thing was clear: I was going to enjoy every moment of this.

So here I was, looking all badass sitting on a cold-ass throne in the middle of nowhere in the Riverlands,to get a bit more background on how and why let's go back to the good old days as Will Smith once said, it's rewind time.