And here is the last one shot, so now to pick up one. Which one did you like the best?

"I think we should all go to sleep" Jon said, taking a final zip of his wine. Dinner has been simple, as it always was after both him and Daenerys got practically expelled from Westeros. But he didn´t mind. That he and Dany managed to get back together was a miracle in itself, that they were capable of living a normal quiet life in a normal house in Essos, without worrying with the problems of politics, and that they have a son even more. And it was better than been a King or Queen in many aspects.

"What? Tired now?" the former Dragon Queen teased as she saw their three namedays old child, Aemon, run around. The kid was happy and that was all that the parents needed to also be so. Aemon was the light of their life.

"Not as much as you, my lady" the former King in the North answered, smiling at his wife before lifting himself from the chair to catch his energetic son. The boy squirmed in his arms, trying to get free, but he didn´t let him go. He kissed the little boy on the top of the head. "To the bed with you, little dragon."

"Roarrrrr"

"No, that´s not how a dragon sounds" Dany walked to them, putting her arms around her family. "Drogon already showed you how a dragon roars. And how was that?"

"ROARRRRRR!"

"Exactly!" she laughed, pushing her hair out of her face, then turned to her husband. "My dear, why don´t you put the dishes in their places? I can put this wyrm to sleep all by myself, you don´t need to be there."

"He likes when I sing"

"Darling, that´s why he doesn´t get to sleep" she said, taking the boy from him. Kissed him on the lips before walking away. "Go, I will be waiting for you in the bed"

"Yes" he returned her kisses before heading to the kitchens again. The child went with his mother, flashing his father a last smile with his deep indigo eyes shinning. A heritage he apparently got from his paternal grandfather, Prince Rhaegar. Anyway, Jon went to the sink and started to wash the dishes. He finished quickly, eager to join his wife in bed. He went down the dark corridor, wondering if he was going to surprise Aemon out of bed and near their bedroom again…

Then he noticed something strange. It was… why wasn´t his son making a fuss? Aemon was never an easy boy to put to sleep, not even when he was a babe. Dany should still be fighting to put him sleep. But there he was, standing near his son´s bedroom, not listening to a sound. Not listening to anything. He started to feel sleepy then. So sleepy… no, he couldn´t be like that. There was someone approaching from behind…

"I wouldn´t enter that room if I were you" a girl said, appearing from the darkness. It was Arya. Even in his sleepy state, he noticed the dagger his sister had on her hands. It was the same that Joffrey gifted Bran´s would be assassin. "They are there no longer"

"What did you do to them?" he asked, dangerously, taking his hand to his belt. She smiled, daringly, before he lashed out to her. Towards his little sister, his favourite sibling, the one he spoiled and smiled to when they were children. That bond, so important… broken… totally broken… His family… where had she taken his family? What has she done? Or more important, why was she here? Was she sent by House Stark? He knew Bran and Sansa would not take his marriage kindly, his son´s birth less, but to believe they would send Arya after them… he refused to believe that.

Until Arya knocked the dagger from his weak hand and effortlessly sent him to the ground. The sleepiness was overhelming now, not allowing him to lift himself from the ground. Or to lift a muscle. He groaned, confused. Not even in his worst days was he this weak.

"What did you do to them?"

"I sent them to the Many Faced God, as Bran and Sansa asked" she answered, sounding a bit guilty. She looked at him, remorse amassing inside of her as never before. She would regret this the rest of her life, she knew… but Starks have to make sacrifices for their House and she was not the exception. Neither was he. "I am sorry it has to end like this. I wouldn´t have done it if… if there was only another solution…"

"Then do it" Jon spat, feeling more and more strength leave his body. She had poisoned him, that was clear now. He was condemned. And he didn´t mind it. His family was gone, what else had he left to live. "Kill me… send me with them… do it…"

"Jon… I have already done" Arya said, sitting down near him. There were tears in her eyes as she took Needle off it´s sheath, showing it to him. It was still her big brother´s smile. "I didn´t want to cause you unnecessary pain, so… so I poisoned the wine you bought this afternoon with sweetsleep. The juice too… for the babe." Her body shook a bit as she repressed a sob. "Then, when they were finally asleep, I opened their throats. They didn´t felt a thing."

"Why… haven´t you opened my throat then yet?" he asked, as the world of dreams pressing to claim him more and more each second. "Why…"

"I wanted to say goodbye to my big brother" she continued, caressing the pome of the sword. "Do you remember when you gave it to me? When I was in the House of Black and White, I used to think of it as your smile. It still is… and it will haunt me forever, be sure. As will my love for you. My favourite brother…"

"Yet you kill me"

"For House Stark" Arya caressed his hair once more before his eyes closed for good. "Sweet dreams, Jon, my beloved brother. Find peace in the thought that this will haunt me forever… and that your blood staining my hands, Bran´s and Sansa´s will bring a future of prosperity perhaps to Westeros, but not to us."

The Stark woman grabbed the sword and pierced his hearth quickly, sending her victim with his family. She then started a fire. It was only adequate for House Targaryen to go like that, with Fire and Blood. The Faceless Woman turned around to go. She will come back later to claim her brother´s body, she promised herself, she will go back and burry him and his son in Winterfell, next to Robb, Aunt Lyanna and her father. She will bring Jon home… forever. And go every day to his tomb to put a flower on tomb.

Unknown to her, there was another person in the house that night. Or, to be better expressed, getting into the house. Kinvara walked through the flames with a grace that would make any noble lady jealous. She searched the burning house looking for something, as Melisandre´s work could be completed, but this world still needed her lord´s chosen. The priestess stopped in front of a body of a man, lying face down on the floor. She lifted his shirt to confirm his identity. This was indeed the prince. Only him would have old scars of a mortal kind like this stabs she was seeing there.

"Take him" she ordered the acolyte that accompany her. One of them, at least, as the other one was searching the other rooms. The boy left, being replaced by his friend a few minutes later.

"Do I take the others too?" he asked his superior, bowing.

"No, they are not needed anymore. And the prince will need a motive to reclaim his Throne. His family will make him hide, but vengeance… what a better motive than revenge?" she then unceremoniously plunged a knife into his hearth. The boy looked shocked for a bit before falling to the ground, dead. "No one has to know what transpired here this night. You should rejoice, you will make the prince a great favour… take care of his family for him on the other side."

Kinvara left the little house and didn´t look back, not even at the acolyte´s body, which was picked along with the other two by Arya the day after the fire. She took the body to one of R´hollor´s temples and extended her hands at the prince. She prayed to her Lord to return the soul of his chosen to this world to exact his will and bring revenge to the House of his Usurpers. The woman smiled smugly when she watched the man breathe again. Jon Snow, on the other side, only frowned. Twice betrayed, twice revived. Would he ever learn?

"My family?" he asked when he noticed he was alone. He wanted to see Dany again… what did she looked like? Curious, when he conjured her in his mind, her face looked blurry. And his little Aemon too. Their faces were blurry, but if he concentrate enough… other things were blurry too. More than after his first resurrection. Wonderful, the Red God has taken another piece of him.

"We were not able to save them, my prince" Kinvara said, faking a mournful expression. "I´m sorry for your loss, but you can still exact revenge on their murderers."

"That will turn me into a kinslayer" he answered. He shouldn´t want to descend to the Stark´s level. Not that he already wasn´t a kinslayer, as he had murdered Dany to save all the people of King´s Landing, but… they were his family too. Even if those memories of a golden childhood were the blurriest of them all. "My mother…"

"My prince, my poor prince" the priestess continued, looking at him in pity. "Your mother was as betrayed by her own family as you. Her brother usurping you of your rightful place, her nieces and nephew conspiring to kill her son, killing her grandson… she must be rolling in her grave right now."

Jon´s heart clenched as he remembered the murders of his family, of his love and child by his little sister… cousin. He didn´t know what to do. And continued without knowing for more years, as he left the Temple of R´hollor to wander aimlessly, thinking of Lyanna, Daenerys, Aemon and if he should exact revenge like his soul was screaming for or fear becoming a kinslayer again. Wherever he went, a red priest followed him, something that was great, as Bran´s and Sansa´s knives followed and reached him again in his path…

"My Lord, welcome to my establishment" the girl from Asshai bowed as the clearly nobleman that entered to her shop. He handed his cloak to one of the servants and sat down in a seat in front of her with a grace that was fit for a prince. And he was wearing all black, as if in mourning. "What can I do for you?"

"I heard you have the magic to make wonderful body transformations" he said, looking at a flame as if it was a miracle of the gods. "Is that true?"

"Yes, of course!" she answered, not knowing why he would need her services. She used to work for a select clientele of men with… unfortunately bad looks, but with good money and this… this was easily the most beautiful man she has seen. Why would he need a transformation? "I can change some physical traits like noses, eyes…"

"Good" he said, stopping her. "Do you see this eyes?"

"Yes" she answered, not sure what would he want with them. They were a lovely shade of grey stroked with veins of violet. So wonderful…

"Make them purple" he ordered, putting many golden coins on her stand. She did as she was told and Aegon exited the shop with his eyes hurting, but new with a rich indigo colour. The colour both his father and son shared. "Forgive me, mother, because I´m going to sin against your blood."

In reality, Aegon himself didn´t believe Lyanna would be mad at him for killing her brother´s children. Not after everything they have done. He just hoped she was watching over his family until he went there… The prince returned to his travel companions, who were guarding the treasure they just recovered from old Valyria.

"Ready? It´s time to go" Aegon said, putting on a valyrian steel mask that showed a weeping face. "Aegon Targaryen returns home."

-Days later-

"Hummmm" Samwell Tarly woke up to find himself tied up post and surrounded by red priests chanting in High Valyrian while a figure in black, wearing a weeping mask, hold a lit torch. The fat man trembled in fear, as he didn´t know how he got there. The last thing he remembered was that he went to sleep besides Gilly in his room… then this. He was no idiot, he knew what those red priests did in their ceremonies. And, after the soldiers found the burned, dead bodies of Lord Rosby, Ser Podrick Payne and Ser Davos Seaworth and brought them back to court…

"It appears that the sacrifice woke up" he heard the black one. Was it just his brain failing him or did that voice sound familiar? It must be, because he approached him. "What does it feel like to be like this, Samwell Tarly?"

"I´m the Grand Maester, you can´t do this to me and get away with it!" he screamed, trying to get free of the ropes holding him to the post. "The king…"

"The King can´t see you here, not even with his winged slaves. You see, magic can be countered with more magic" the man talked as if it was nothing. "Besides, is this a way to talk to an old friend?" he continued, making chills run down the Tarly´s back. "Sam, it´s me, Jon. I´m back."

"Jon? Is that really you?" Sam asked, not believing it. The man removed his mask, showing him the familiar face of his former friend. The friend he had betrayed. And the one whose name his son had. "King Brandon said you died…"

"Oh, I did. Many times, indeed. Unfortunately, there are some methods to cheat death, as you know" the Grand Maester shuddered. The Red Priests, of course. They refused to let his friend rest in peace, even after he lost so much. "But there will not be that option for you. Nor for Ser Davos, Lord Rosby, Ser Podrick… or Lord Tyrion."

"Jon, you shouldn´t do this" he tried to convince him. "The Lord Hand is too well protected, you can´t just… you can´t just…" Sam breathed in once. "Please, Jon, as a friend, forget this. Live your live, if not for yourself, for your family…"

"What kind of friend does that?" Aegon countered, his expression hardened. "Stays silent as others conspired to murder his friend? To murder his wife? His three namedays old son? He was younger than your son, Sam, what would you feel if someone does what Arya did to my Aemon that him? Slit his throat in the night, while his father laid dying on the other room, his mother dead by his side… would he feel scared, Sam? Scared as my Aemon surely was?"

"A babe? You had a babe?" asked Sam, surprised and horror stricken. Did Bran really ordered his own nephew´s death? A three namedays old boy? "He… he never mentioned a boy…"

"Bran surely knows how to keep secrets. Even from the people closest to him." the prince looked at his former friend with pain clearly in his eyes. "My babe, who died so young, murdered by the will of the man I considered a younger brother" he sighed. "Do you know why I wear this mask, Sam?"

"Jon, you didn´t deserve that much pain, but that anger…"

"It´s an old Valyrian tradition" he continued, staring at the maester with his new, strange indigo eyes. "When a person suffered a loss so great that his or her tears couldn´t take away the sadness, they done this masks to continue crying until they stop feeling it… or until they took revenge."

"Jon, you can´t do this. Turning kinslayer… even if they murder you, you can´t murder your siblings."

"You are forgetting something important, Sam" Aegon said, putting his fingers on the fire and moving them, seeing the flames dancing on his palm. "They did something worse to me first. They murdered my soul." He retreated his hands, a flame in his hand. "Goodbye, Sam" and he threw the flame into the pyre under the body, where it grew into an inferno. He turned from the man´s screaming form, going towards his accomplices. "Sansa and Arya must have arrived yet, it´s time for our ultimate hit."

"The Imp will be here by noon, my prince, we already have someone in his household that will bring him in."

"Excellent" he looked forward the next day. It was the day he will face the murderers of his family. After all this years, he will see them again… and do something none of them. Or more than something. He went away, singing a tune very known to him, one about a beautiful warrior queen who set free the slaves in Dragon´s Bay. "Uhhhh, our… silver queen… blood of dragon… khaleessi. You who set us free… Daenerys Stormborn, Dragon Queen."

"You should stop torturing yourself, my prince" one of the red priests talked to him. "Your wife and son aren´t going to get back, no matter how much you wish for them to."

"But that´s the matter, no? After all, this magic… is special for people who wants to change their past" he started singing the same tune, but in valyrian. He felt better when he did that, as if he could still remember the faces of his wife and child. The faces of all he had lost, including the siblings he was going to meet again soon…

-The next day-

"We are here" Sansa Stark said when she and Arya reunited with Bran and Ser Brienne outside the Tower of the Hand. They knew that whoever it was that was murdering members of the Small Council, it would target Tyrion next. Even the Imp knew it, hence the amount of knights guarding the Tower that night. "Did you check on the security measures, sister? I would like to end this tonight."

"Everything seems secured" Arya said, putting her hands on her sword. It was not Needle, that she buried along with the remaining of the Targaryens. Now unable to use her favourite weapon because of it´s new meaning, she got a new sword, valyrian steel, forged with the blood she collected from the weapons that took her brother´s, good sister´s and nephew´s lives. Dragon´s Tear, she called it. "Lord Tyrion is secure"

"I don´t believe so" Bran called his sisters to attention as red cloaked forms entered the Tower, easily knocking out the soldiers watching the entrances. The women looked at them, surprised that they were capable of so much. Then they understand. Red priests. Red priests using magic to shield themselves and enhance their abilities. Abilities which made Tyrion an easy prey. "Let´s follow them"

"Bran, are you not…"

"There is something more important than a Rebellion going on here. I can´t see them… that´s why I fear their intentions... R´hollor… is not a god who would let go so easily once he has set on a path of conquest" the Raven clenched his fists. This shouldn´t have happened. He… he should be able to prevent this. Everything. So he advanced with his sisters and Kingsguard and soldiers, following the trail of the servants of the Red God. What they found…

"For the Old Gods and the New!" Sansa screamed as she saw her former husband tied to a stake, talking to a figure that was wearing all black, a mourning attire. This turned around when she screamed, revealing a crying mask. The only thing visible of the stranger´s face was… his deep indigo eyes. This one moved away from the pyre when he saw them, lifting it´s hand towards the sky.

"Dracarys" he ordered. Drogon appeared out of nowhere, something amazing for a dragon the size of a mountain, and spit fire over the Imp. The Lannister burned, screaming, as the priests chanted. Brienne and her knights started to attack the men, but suddenly an explosion rocked the place. In front of the uncredulous Starks and their soldiers, a portal opened. The last red priests walked towards their leader.

"Master Weeper…"

"Time to go. Follow if you can" he ordered, walking towards the portal, Drogon and his men followed him obediently. The royals also, once they recovered from their shock. Unfortunately for them, they wouldn´t arrive to their enemy´s destination, as a few words in valyrian changed it.

"My prince, you made it" Kinvara said, practically jumping in joy. "You made it, my prince, now we are" a sword pierced her chest, sending her to the ground. "What… Why…"

"Why, Kinvara, for my family. Or did you really think I didn´t know you never made an attempt to bring my wife and son back to life?" he stood before her, as she died. "Revenge is the only motivation in my life and your name was on my list. Goodbye, Kinvara, say hello to your Red God for me."

"My… prince…" she died as Aegon cleaned his blade on her dress. He then turned to the few priests that were still there. "What are you looking at? We still have work to do. Some of you go to Essos to find Dany. The others" he signalled a little group, which trembled as he signalled them. "I will need them with me"

-Later-

"Shesh, you saved my life" Tyrion Lannister said. He had strayed from the King´s caravan for a few seconds to take a piss and he was attacked by bandits, but the strange man in front of him saved his neck. The masked one simply sheathed his sword, not showing interest in him. You are surely good with that sword! Where did you learn that?"

"In my home" answered the Weeper, making sure his mask was still in it´s place.

"Then you must have a really talented father or master of arms to teach you" the Imp didn´t receive an answer. "How about putting those talents in use working for me? I will pay you handsomely."

"It would be my pleasure, my lord" Aegon Targaryen answered, beginning with his plan. First he would use Tyrion to kill the traitor Starks, then he would make sure he didn´t see the light of day once more. And it would be fair, because they betrayed him first, no? Anyway, he will be the first one now and, when he does so, he will make sure he couldn´t fail. No, Drogon?

Hello! As I said, this is the last one shot from this series. Now you have to pick one as your favourite and vote for it. I don´t know which to make into a full blown history, but I would like to know your opinions, so please, Review!