And here, dear readers, is the next history in our short histories colection. Hope you like it!

"High in the Halls of the Kings who were lost

Jenny will dance with her Ghosts

The ones she had known and the ones she had lost

And the ones she loved the most"

The wildings heard their king, Jon Snow, sing. Like his father, Rhaegar Targaryen, the King Beyond the Wall had a voice that made even birds stop in the trees to hear him sing. Tormund was near him, enjoying the show. The Night´s King was banished from the Realm, his people returned to their place and the crows won´t be a problem for some time. Everything was at peace. By his side, Val was smiling, rubbing her pregnant belly. She had become the King´s wife, even if he couldn´t forget the Dragon Queen. They had two beautiful boys already and the third one…

"It was beautiful, Snow" said the redheaded wildling, clapping his hands. "The kids enjoyed it… hell, I think if Val wasn´t such a scary person when pregnant, the woman would be throwing their intimate cloths towards you."

"You think so?" the man answered, smiling at his brother by choice. "I haven´t done this before, after all. But… the children looked so sad without the songs and I wanted to make this Yule special for them."

"Crow, you already make it special by banishing those icy fuckers that haunted our kid´s nightmares" the burly man put his hand over his shoulder. Jon tried to shake him off, but Tormund continued. "Face it, Lord Snow, your sister can be the one that killed the icy fucker but you are the true Hero of the Battle of the Dawn. You faced a bloody dragon for us! That only puts you on equal terms with her! And you sing better than Mance too."

"Well… I respect Mance Rayder a lot, too much to deign myself better than him at anything…"

"Come on, even the fucking birds stopped chirping to hear you and the kids were enthralled by you, that should mean something" the giant of a man said, crossing his arms. "Mance never got that kind of effect on people."

"Hummm, perhaps" Jon did the same thing. "Well, they used to say that my father, my true father, Rhaegar Targaryen, sang better than any person in the Seven Kingdoms" he sighed. "They also said that he played the harp, but that seems to be out of my reach" the boy looked around at the children running around. "Anyway, singing came natural to me, so I tried to…" he shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, it helps me feel close to him."

"I thought you wanted to feel closer that Lord Stark you were so fond of"

"I… I don´t want to talk about him. Not anymore" the Targaryen shivered a bit. He still remembered the time he found out his uncle, the man he always had as an example and loved as a father, chose Robert Baratheon over him. Bran showed him the moment Eddard Stark swore, while his sister´s body was still warm on her deathbed, that no other Targaryen will possess the Throne. Not even his nephew. The new Raven King seemed to take a strange pleasure in torturing his cousin while showing him that he was never truly loved by Ned Stark after all.

"That bad, eh?" Tormund managed to get it, despite the young man not wanting to talk about it. "Well, if that man couldn´t take it, then he didn´t deserve you… Aegon."

"Hummm, perhaps" the brunette shook his shoulders. "Anyway, it doesn´t matter anymore. He is long gone and I… I just want to keep the good memories of my family with me. My uncle´s too… he told me I was his blood, after all. Too bad it wasn´t enough for him."

"Too bad he didn´t appreciate you, it was his loss"

"As you say, good friend" Jon nodded before walking away. His children Rhaegar and Aelor were playing with a ball and he wanted to spend some time with them before being dragged off to attend to matters of the tribe again. Tormund was watching them, his own kids too old for that kind of games, when a scream came from the other part of the camp. He turned around, wondering what was happening when a troop of masked men irrupted in the camp. All the people took their hands to the weapons, trying to repel the attack…

"Snow! Where are you, dammit?!" he asked, searching for the King and his family. Val was in plain view, being protected by some spearwives, but Jon and the children… they were a target to be hit and the only valuable one in this woods. "Jon!"

"Tormund, careful!" the former crow screamed, opening his way towards the man with his Valyrian steel sword, his little sons cowering behind him, hidden by a tree. Both of them had the bad luck of inheriting their grandfather´s rather brandishing silver blond hair, so they had to stay hidden, so their father´s attention was at…

"SNOW!"

"ARGHHHH!" Jon Snow, Aegon Targaryen, was at that moment struck by an arrow from a hidden bowman right in the middle of the chest, followed by a second and a third to make sure the dragon was really dead. The wildlings froze up, giving the sellswords, because that was what they were, time to try and retreat with the few forces they still had.

"JON!" Tormund ran to catch his fallen friend, grabbing the man as he felt to the ground. A smaller, less hairy form ran towards him, falling on her knees when she finally reached him. The wildling raised his head, peeking into the face of Arya Stark for the first time in years. What was she doing here? Didn´t she left Westeros and her brother to travel all over the world?

"A… rya… Arya" the brunette said, nearly without a voice. His cousin turned sister put her hands on his injuries, trying to stabilize the other. Her hands quickly began to turn red with her favourite brother´s blood, making her sob uncontrollably.

"What the bloody Hell are you doing here, girl?" asked Tormund, also trying to attend to his friend while the Faceless woman wept like a southern lady. "I thought you Stark bastards didn´t want to have anything to do with him anymore. I would say good riddance, but what the Raven bastard and that lying whore did to him before…"

"You thought that I was going to leave him? Me? His little sister? I was going to visit him as soon as Bran and Sansa got their eyes out of him!" she screamed, still trying to save her brother. It was no use, both of them knew it, but they weren´t going to give up. Val needed Jon alive. The children needed him. The unborn baby needed him. They… they needed him. "Jon… Jon, please… please…"

"Children… the children…" he said, nearly without a voice. "Take care… of my… children… please… Arya… Tormund… Pro… mise… me… pro…"

"I promise" answered Arya, suddenly feeling more desperate than ever. And with a resolve to protect her little nephews from anything. She then realized that this must have been how her own father felt in the Tower of Joy so many years ago, when aunt Lyanna asked him to protect the same boy that was dying for a second time in the snow. A boy he failed to protect like he promised, all for a fat stag. But that was not going to happen with her, because she was different…

The difference was that she didn´t have a Robert Baratheon… or a Brandon Stark, because she was sure that the person who tortured Jon with visions of the past and betrayed their family for a southern throne was not her brother.

No, this time nothing was getting in the way of the Protector.

"I promise, I promise, I promise" she continued saying as life left her brother´s body. Tormund repeated her words, crying as the boy closed his eyes for a last time. And with no red priestess in sign, Jon will stay dead…

"No…" a tiny creature of brown skin and green hair appeared, getting down from a tree. The wildlings immediately made way for it, recognizing it as a Child of the Forest. The being kneeled in front of the fallen body, touching the drops of promised blood on the snow. "We hoped to arrive before the murder, but..." he or she suddenly hardened his expression. "Let´s go, we don´t have time to lose."

"Time to…" Arya began as Tormund lifted the dead body from the ground. "What… where are you taking him?!"

"The groove of Bloodraven, there is a current of water underneath it with sacred qualities. It will stop the body from decaying until it´s time, but we have to go quickly or it will rot and you don´t want a body like that going back to life. Remember what happened with…"

"I know" Arya said, letting Tormund grab the body in his arms. "I will stay here with Val and the children. Now that Sansa did something like this, I doubt she will let them live" she turned towards the wildling princess, noticing her distended belly then. "How it´s going to be named?"

"Gaemon for a boy and…"

"Wait" Tormund stopped her, suddenly catching onto something. "Your sister did this? The redheaded bitch that helped your brother and the ugly Imp usurp Snow… that one?"

"Yes… and I will explain later, but now we don´t have time" grinding his teeth, the tall man ran away with the body, following a rather fast Child of the Forest. Arya, for her part, turned to the kids and their very pregnant mother. The boys were frozen in the spot, hugging each other, not knowing how to react to their newly discovered aunt´s presence. "You didn´t finished answering my question." Said Arya, trying to break the ice. "If it´s a girl?"

"Daenerys… because she is going to be as strong as the first and the second" the Stark girl nodded, asking silent permission to put a hand over her belly. She then felt the babe kicking… strong as a dragon, indeed.

"Let´s go, we need to go into hiding now" Arya signalled, helping Val to shake the boys awake. She grabbed a bit of bloody snow from the ground, kissing it before pulling her hood over her head. It was time to return to do what she originally wanted to do: protect her family.

Meanwhile, Tormund travelled the difficult path towards Bloodraven´s tomb, following the fast Child of the Forest. They fortunately passed through Hardhome and he got the chance to get a horse to transport Jon Snow´s body before it started decaying. When he arrived at the grove, he entered behind the tiny creature, finding more in his way. Some dead, some alive, some… in the middle, being cared by their kin. There was also the body of the former Three Eyed Raven, his blood seeping through the roots of the weirwood he was connected to.

"So, this was the seat of the Oracle…"

"No, this was the prison the Old Gods designed to keep their Oracle in place" the Child answered, sighing while guiding it´s guests. "A long time ago, after the war with the First Men was over, the last greenseer was brought here to be kept safe until the spirit of the Oracle can be transferred to another body. Unfortunately, the body chosen was a Man."

"Why unfortunately?"

"Because the Oracle learned a concept it didn´t knew before: greed. He started to believe he was the right one to govern over the Realm. And the Gods couldn´t have that, so they turned his safe place into a prison where they could control their servant." He shook his head. "That was until he used Brynden Rivers intellect and form to trick Brandon Stark into showing the Enemy this place. We did everything we could to stop his flee, even killing his physical body, but the transision was too advanced to stop it. Brandon Stark died that night" the child continued. "and the Three Eyed Raven, Oracle of the Gods of the North, escaped." They finally arrived in an illuminated chamber, filled with water. "We are here."

"What do I have to do?"

"Throw the body in there" another voice said. He turned around to find another humanoid and very red figure. A red priestess. "It needs to be in perfect condition when I resurrect it, as was Rhollor´s will."

"If you are going to resurrect him anyway, why not to do it now?"

"Understand it, tall one, this was not how it was supposed to be. The Prince who was Promised is still needed to bring peace and stability to the Realm and guide Westeros to a new age. But the Three Eyed Oracle managed to usurp his place, so the future turns dark… as we speak" Kinvara moved, kneeling before the body. "Only him when he reclaims his throne that era of light can start."

"If that era is so important, why can´t you rise him now from the death?"

"It´s not that simple" the priestess said. "Only death can pay for life, even for us, servants of the One True God."

"Take mine" offered Tormund, staring into the face of his friend. "My children are of age, my wife lives no more. They will all understand…"

"As I said, it´s not that simple" the woman continued. "It can´t be any life, not in this case. Last time, the death of a king and distant kin was needed to call him back. Now… the sacrifice Rhollor asks for is the life of the real culprit of his death."

"What?"

"The murderer´s life for the victim´s… a just deal, especially if they are connected by blood."

"The Three Eyed Raven…"

"It was not the Raven who ordered his death. Even him, knowing what a threat to his regime he is, wouldn´t dare to kill a god´s champion" she said. "No, the one who ordered this did him a favour indeed: being stupid enough to murder such a person."

"Sansa Stark" he grunted, kneeling down to pick up the body. "That disloyal kinslayer… taking her life will be a pleasure" he threw Jon Snow into the water, the corpse sinking into the bottom. "Now, how are we going to murder her? Does she need to be burned?"

"Any death will be okay, as long as it´s hers"

"Good, it makes things easier"

-In King´s Landing-

The Three Eyed Raven sat on his Throne, as he watched his Kingdom before him. After so many centuries, he was finally in his rightful place. The North was still out of his hands, but with Sansa unwed and heirless and Arya disinterested in a keep, it was only matter of time that the whole continent was on his hands. The dragon heir was still a problem, beyond the wall and everything, but his reticence to fight will keep him in place. The Old Gods surely made a mistake choosing such a champion.

He was so concentrated on his own things that he barely heard the Imp talking about the deficit in the budget that the reconstruction was taking when someone entered the room. Sanwell Tarly, his grand maester, the man who still had doubts about betraying his best friend and protector. He had a letter from his host´s sister, detailing her plan to kill their problematic cousin.

"Can´t believe that girl" his eyes turned completely white. His powers instantly gave him view of Sansa in Winterfell´s tower, waiting for something. A man suddenly approached her, carrying something in his hands, a blood stained fur cloak. The woman turned around to see the sellword, that threw the proof at his employer´s feet.

"Did you really do it?" she asked, not wanting to be cheated by a simply commoner. No, she needed to see the corpse of his cousin or his dead direwolf was laid at her feet to believe it… or Bran confirming it. Yes, it would take Bran confirming it for her to believe it… But at the same time… she didn´t want to believe it at all. Confirming it would make her a kinslayer, an accursed… NO! SHE DIDN'T HELD THE SWORD, NOR SHED THE BLOOD! SHE WASN´T A KINSLAYER!

"Yes, milady" the sellsword answered, looking at her. When he was hired by her to kill someone beyond the wall, he believed she was crazy. Or at least that she was interesting other than rich, but after asking around for a bit and found she had the same selfish motivations than anyone else. She wanted to murder her cousin because he was the last legitimate male member of House Targaryen and Stark (barring Bran, but he was not exactly a Stark despite having the body of one), so she had to eliminate that threat to her crown. "But the savages and that white beast took out most of my men."

"Ghost? Is he still alive?" she shook her head. Lady died so many years ago that she didn´t remember how it was to have a direwolf by her side. So protected, so… so… safe. But it was not always enough.

"That´s the name of the beast?" the sellsword approached. "Well, it´s not important anymore. His master is dead, as you can see. It´s time to pay."

"Really? Because I can´t see my dear cousin´s body here. And I specifically told you to bring the body as a proof, not a blood stained rag that could be anyone´s" said Sansa, rubbing her hands together. The man threw his hand to his sword. "Calm down, there is no need for violence. I´m merely going to wait for a trustworthy confirmation. Then you will have your pay."

The Raven knew exactly what she was talking about. Or to whom she was talking to. It flew over the Wall, to Hardhome, where Jon was last seen by his winged eyes. There, Arya was escorting a very pregnant Val along with two silver haired children. They were talking about where to lose him, when the wildling princess doubled herself over. An early birth… something they should have noticed, as the events caused by Sansa´s plan would stress the mother too much.

"Call the midwife!" Arya yelled, helping her good sister away to a little house. Eyeing the children, recognizing them as a threat, he followed Val to the birthing chamber. Hours later, the exhausted and nearly lifeless Val managed to push a living daughter out of her body. The Faceless woman received her and quickly cut the cord, presenting the newborn to her mother.

"Daenerys… my brave little princess… you are here" the blond said, caressing the wailing silver haired babe. Then she put her back on Arya´s arms. "Can you please… get them in now… my boys…"

"I will call them" the Stark let the children in, who sat down around their mother. Rhaegar, Aelor and Daenerys Targaryen… the new threat to his reign. He should tell Sansa to eliminate them… Or perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. To keep his Throne, he needed to make sure their father, Jon Snow, Aegon Targaryen, was really dead and staying like that. He left the place in search for his tomb… only to find himself in the worst place in Westeros. His old prison, where the Old Gods put him for doing the right thing. And right below, in the ponds of tears…

"So, how are we going to kill the kinslayer? I mean, we have done a few raids in southern territory, but more than that…" he shook his head. "We are allies of the north now, but this ends that"

Tormund Giantsbane continued ranting to the red priestess, who was staring at the water where the power of the Old Gods concentrated. What an unusual sight, to see one of the Red God´s servants there… was she there to rise the dragon from the dead? Rhollor would surely desire that, he knew. But why hadn´t she already did so if it was her God´s wish? Then he understood… ahhh, so there was it. They needed Sansa´s life specifically to rise him. The sacred water would prevent the decay, then… as long as she was alive, the children were the only inconvenience.

He should tell Sansa about them then, she surely knew how to take care of things.

-Seven years later-

"How are the problems in the North faring?" the Raven asked, hoping to hear that the children and Arya were found. Tyrion didn't answer, as he knew the king already knew how it was going in the North. Besides, he didn´t exactly approved how the situation was taken care of. He never wanted Jon Snow dead, not even when he was a threat to his reign as Hand and live, but now he could see the wisdom of the decision… if only Sansa Stark was smarter. "Have the northern lords stopped their rebellion attempts?"

"No, as no one really wanted to have a kinslayer as Queen" he finally said, resuming in a few words how the northern lords were feeling. The Manderlys closed New Castle to their Queen´s emissaries, refusing to obey. The Glovers and Cerwyns were plotting along with them, mourning who they called the true heir to the North, Jon Stark, forgetting that the man had another name. And the Thenns… the Thenns were forever a wild card. There was also the matter of that cousin of theirs waiting to be resurrected…

"No… my sister should have been smarter when dealing with Jon Snow" Bran answered, suddenly feeling fed up with this. "No problem" the Raven said, his eyes turning white as he drained power from the weirwoods. "I will just have to call some reinforcements."

"Who?"

"Those who would take care of Sansa the best… her pack"

Ohhhh, somehow I think Bran has put the plans to resurrect Jon in danger. How is Arya going to lead the wildlings to success if she had to fight her family? Anyway, this is a one shot and possible work, so I leave it to you, if you like it, simply tell me and your continuation and I will try to turn it into a longer history. Thanks to all the people who are reading me for your support. Ah, and if you guessed about the name of the dragon in the other history, I´m also a great fan of Tolkien, so I named the Cannibal in honour of the greatest of Tolkien´s dragons, Ancalagon the Black. I always believed the Cannibal dragon was some kind of enormous monster, like Ancalagon, so I named him for him. Without anything else, goodbye and Review!