And now, the first one shot of my new list, some little histories that have been plaging my head lately. Have fun!

"Have you called, master?" asked Jon, after having been called by magister Illyrio. He gritted his teeth at the face of the man, who was looking very proud of himself. Too much for his like, if you asked him. of course, no one asked for a slave´s opinion. How did he end up as a slave, you might ask?

Well, the history was rather simple. Catelyn Stark felt that the Night´s Watch, to which he had always wanted to join, was not enough punishment for him to atone being born, so she decided to hire the help of some slavers that stopped in White Harbour under the guise of merchants. She told them to sell him to the Fighting Pits, from where he probably wasn´t going to get out alive... unfortunately for her, in the slaver cities rarely slaves staid with their original owners. He was bought by one magister Illyrio after months of combat, when the Pentoshi found out he was Eddard Stark´s bastard. How? he could never tell. Perhaps it had something to do with that mysterious person with copious amounts of perfume that reunite with the magister every other month.

Anyway, he waited for his moment, hoping to return to the North soon. He heard that… that the Ironborn took Winterfell and murdered his little brothers courtesy of that rat Theon. Humm, Robb should have listened to him when he told him that the Greyjoy wasn´t trustworthy. When he arrived at home…

"Hey, get back to work!" one of Illyrio´s men caught him dosing off while mopping the floors and walked towards the slave to whip him. Unfortunately, one of the stewards appeared on that moment.

"No, the magister needs him now" the man said, making the other walk the other side to find another slave to whip. Jon nodded and went to his master´s office. There he found the same perfumed man he was thinking about before and two people he didn´t recognize. Or perhaps he should, because both had silver hair and purple eyes. Valyrian… Targaryen. He nearly frowned. He knew that his master´s loyalties were not the same as his family´s, as he hosted the Targaryen siblings before. Jon never saw them, having arrived after Daenerys first wedding, but he could be sure that he had them in front of him now.

"Oh, here he is. The Bastard of Winterfell in person. Look at him, Varys, didn´t I tell you I would get him?" Varys? The Spider, the Master Spy of the Court himself, here committing treason. Who could have believed it? The man looked at him closely, deeming him alike enough to Eddard Stark to be his son.

"Hope you treated him well, Illyrio. We are going to need him to take back the North."

"Oh, don´t worry, I treated him like a valuable crystal chandelier" that was not true. He was treated like a valuable slave, not roughhoused much, but a slave on the end. "I know how important he is to King Aegon´s conquest."

"King Aegon?" dared to ask Jon, frowning. Last time he checked, the Targaryen heir to the Throne was Viserys, not Aegon. But… Viserys didn´t have such a dark skin colour. Or at least shouldn´t. Only the dornish could get that olive skin naturally.

"I will only pardon your lack of courtesy because you weren´t informed of this" said the magister on the same tone he used to scold all of his slaves before sending them to the torture room. "But when you are in presence of our esteemed King Aegon the Sixth, you will bow to him and address him as his Grace. The same with the gracious Queen Daenerys."

"Magister, I believe you should abstain from that kind of behaviour in front of me" the woman intervened, making the northerner raise an eyebrow. "You know I hate slavery." Really? She hates slavery? Isn´t she being financed by a big time slaver like Illyrio? That was confusing. "Besides, if he is to be our Warden of the North, then we should inform him of our plans."

"Warden of the North?" Jon asked, looking at the people there. Then it stroke him. They wanted to use him to usurp the Starks, placing him as Lord of Winterfell. So they believed the same of him that Lady Stark? "Forget it" he said firmly, getting strange looks from the others. "I will not help you Usurp my family"

"You insolent…"

"Do whatever you want to me, because I refuse to help you do something to the Starks!" he screamed, his first sign of rebellion in months. The people looked at him with wide eyes. "I prefer torture to betray my siblings. You can do anything you want to Lady Stark, but don´t touch Robb or my sisters. I will find a way to kill you if you do!"

"Woow, the wolf still has fangs" commented Aegon, strangely amused. There was a hint of madness hiding behind that, as expected from someone that survived hell and back, but the rich ones chose to ignore it.

"Ready to strike you down if you touch his pack, your Grace" promised Jon, secretly promising death to all of them. He will murder them… murder all the people that harmed him… and the slavers too. For torturing him in those pits, they will pay. He could already smell the burned flesh…

Burn them all

From where did that voice came? He didn´t know, but it sounded so tempting. To cause destruction and bathe everything in the flames of hatred that burned inside of him since his capture. The Tagaryens and their allies talked around him as if he didn´t exist, despite their intentions of using him to usurp his family. Finally, they decided that Eddard Stark already paid for his crimes being beheaded in front of the Sept of Baelor and his children shouldn´t be punished for him. That they will gladly accept Robb Stark´s claim to Winterfell if he bends the knee. He couldn´t tell if the monarchs were actually telling the truth but… he was going to give them reasons for doing it.

Burn them all

That voice again. He had been hearing it in his head since he was forced to fight in the pits for his life, getting stronger as he spilt more and more blood, learning to enjoy killing and to survive in a world where his life doesn´t mean anything. And cultivating his cruelty. Yes, he didn´t forget that side buried inside of him he didn´t know existed, now more alive than the sweet child he has been. He was still loyal to his family, his pack, his only happy memories, but he wasn´t above shedding blood for his personal excitement.

Burn them all

Oh, when they found out they have left a wild rabid wolf free…

"Varys! How dare you leaving me out of this?!" Jon Connington entered in that moment, completely ignoring the slave on the door in favour of his adoptive son and his wife, standing with the eunuch and the magister. "I am the Hand of the King and has to be in every reunion or war council to advice him! Not only you and that cheesemonger friend of yours!" he finally noticed the sixth person in the room. "And who is that?"

"Oh, a little slave I have been guarding for Varys. Lord Jon Connington, meet Jon Snow, bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark" the Griffin Lord turned to give a disgusted look at the boy the spymaster introduced, but he froze when he saw him. There was something familiar on that boy, something… he didn´t know from where. Perhaps his father? He saw the guy one time or two during Harrenhal, so it was possible, but normally a face didn´t stick with him so much time. The she wolf then? He saw her more, in Rhaegar´s wedding too… yes, it has to be her. He looked like her… no, a lot but the shape of the eyes and other factions… "Lord Hand? Can we continue?"

"Yes, yes, forgive me" the redhead cleared his head of the thoughts. He would later have enough time to decide where had he seen those factions before. Somehow his heart already knew, because it clenched painfully when… "Then, this boy is going to be the next Warden of the North once we conquer the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Apparently not, because he isn´t going to usurp his siblings" Illyrio commented, amused. "He was very vocal about that… despite being just a slave."

"Former slave" Daenerys clarified. She admired the spirit of the boy, despite him having something that crept her out. Remember her of her brother Viserys. "The next action we are going to take is freeing the slaves of this house. I don´t want anyone under my command to be there if it´s not by their own decision."

"Of course, your Grace" continued the magister in his sweet voice, not minding the order. After all, most of his slaves remained hidden from Daenerys, her not having any means to know they were his or if they have been freed or not, and he could always buy more, even with slaver´s bay out of commission. "Back to the Conquest, I think it´s better to wait until that business with Yunkai is…"

"Leave it to me, then" offered Jon, gritting his teeth. He despised doing something for this people that saw him as nothing more but a card to be played or a pawn to be used. Anyway, he needed them to get to the North with help to avenge his little brothers. To warn Robb too. "I will help you with your slaver problem."

"And how do we know that you are not going to escape?" asked the magister, not trusting his now former slave. The recent spirited act had shown him that the man that the boy was not as broken as he thought, that there was still a fire inside of him that might end up burning them… and the Seven Kingdoms with them.

"You have my family´s pardon in your hands, no? And with dragons, there is no way you are going to lose" Burn them too, the voice continued saying, with him listening, willing to do that, burn them and consume their fire. "As long as you will pardon Robb and the others, I will gladly serve you with all my might."

"Hummmm… I suppose you could help us with that" Aegon said, wondering how the bastard could solve a problem that now even Daenerys manage. "But how?"

"Just give me one power: the Queen´s Justice in Yunkai"

"My son Drogon is my Justice"

"But even the Targaryens of before the Dance of the Dragon had Beheaders, your Grace, because sometimes seeing a human being so cruel in the name of a monarch had a more powerful effect than seeing a giant lizard being that" the northerner said, enjoying their stares. "Besides, I would love to cut some slaver heads."

"Well… guess you can go… with a limited Unsullied escort" Dany conceded, not really thinking he could do what he promised. Well, that would take a problem from them, as she didn´t really want to pardon the Starks. The former Lord was one of the main Rebels, the current one a pretender… she knew they would stir again if they could. And Jon Snow could very well be with them the next time. "But I would advice you to do something carefully. Those sons of the Harpy even took Unsullied and with a limited escort you could be easy prey."

"Your Grace, thank you for your kindness, but they are the ones who should be afraid of me" he licked his lips before escaping their presence. How he wanted to crush them. The slavers, the royals, the magisters that think they could play with human beings like it was nothing… Burn them all.

-Yunkai, sometime later-

"So… Snow said our problems with the slavers were over? I personally believe that he was killed, but Varys says otherwise" the King commented to his wife on the fly to the recently retaken city. the woman´s face was completely frozen, much like the lands Snow was from. "I think I will give him a reward for this."

"He did it for his own personal pleasure, he didn´t need a reward" she felt some amount of annoyance at the man for talking in such an irrespective way to his rightful monarchs, but she couldn´t deny his effectiveness… if his reports were true. She then entered the path to the city. "For the Seven…"

"For the Old Gods and the New" Aegon could only gasp as Connington said those words. The path to Yunkai, the same one the masters used to put crucified slave children in preparation for Daenerys invasion, was now littered with the bodies of the masters, opened by the back in a grotesque way. Jorah Mormont stopped in his tracks. He had heard about this ancient punishment of the North, but have never actually seen… "What in the Seven Hells is this?"

"Is… is an… ancient punishment the Northern people used to punish heathens and godless men. It´s called a… Blood Eagle" he coughed, trying to avoid the inquisitive eyes of his companions. "Anyway, this wasn´t used very often because it was said that people who were victims of the Blood Eagle were cursed by the gods to remain restless for all eternity if they scream during the punishment."

"Well, I hope not. I feel no desire to fight the master´s ghosts" the boy king said, trying to peel his eyes away from the bloody pathway. But no matter what, his eyes always landed on some poor sod´s lifeless, scared eye. He couldn´t believe what the bastard did this, not even to slavers. "He wasn´t joking when he said that he hated slavers" he turned to the queen. "He might have something in common with you, Daenerys."

"This is a new level of hate. That bastard is insane" said the woman, who had all of Lord Connington´s support. He hadn´t seen such cruelty since the times of Aerys… wait, Aerys. For some reason that look on the Snow´s face reminded him a lot of the Mad King. And not just him, but Rhaella. His nose was a lot like Rhaella´s. Did he have Targaryen blood? No one knew his mother, so it was possible. Perhaps from Saera Targaryen´s line.

"Gods, this city…" it reminded the Griffin Lord of King´s Landing when Aerys was King. The people at the mercy of a madman, living the fear that caused, children clinging to men and women in a terror consumed way. But for some other reason, the former slaves were confidently walking around. As if the sons of the Harpy were not a problem. Or as if they didn´t have one in the world. And soon they realised why?

"Greetings, your Graces, to Yunkai" saluted Jon Snow, bowing before them as he rose from a chair in the upper part of a makeshift stadium. "I told you I would recover the city for you, didn´t I?"

"You did more than that, no?" Aegon said, approaching the chair to see the spectacle. What he saw down there nearly made him scream in horror. "What is that?!"

"Oh, I was once a fighter on the pits, don´t you remember?" the boy informed, still in an amused manner. The king turned to look at him. He had hoped that liberating the slaves would cur that dangerous thing Connington said he saw in him, but it apparently only made it worse. "I thought that, if these idiots loved the spectacle so much, why don´t make them join it?"

"Because murder should never be used as entertainment!" screamed Daenerys, tired of this man. She had banned the fighting pits, now forever, for a reason.

"Why? Freedmen love it. And it helped the economy of the city a lot, along with all those riches we took from the masters" he moved his head a bit. "I found my own former master somewhere around the city… he fled him after you took Meereen, you know? He was the first I blood eagled on the outside. He screamed in such a way that I just had to put his firstborn son in the first spectacle… Awesome thing!"

"You are insane" the king stated, glaring at him.

"Insanity, genius… they say that there is just a step between them" he commented staring at the other boy with a similar expression. Oh, there was definitely Valyrian blood there, thought Lord Connington. The two of them looked a bit similar. "Anyway, you are going to need me soon, no? For your invasion…"

"If only not…" the boy sighed, trying to control himself. "Just keep yourself in check once we arrive, okay?"

-Some months later-

"I told you he would make a mess again" commented Connington as his king made a horrified face. War was still wagging in Westeros as Stannis Baratheon positioned himself on the North. Robb Stark was death, courtesy of a traitor in his army. It was a hard blow for his half-brother, who tried to bury his pain in tons of blood. He even started to fall even more into madness, laughing when he murdered enemies. Laughers that haunted him at night, just like the Mad King´s.

"He made much more than a mess" said Aegon walking towards his wayward soldier. The Snow was donning a fine armour (fine for a foot soldier) and a Valyrian steel sword on his side. A sword he did not have when he first left Illyrio´s manse, as a poor former slave and steward of the magister. "Jon, what could I do with him? He is an excellent soldier, but… his madness haven´t stopped growing…"

"You should put an end to this. Execute him, my lord, and rid yourself of a wild card."

"I… I don´t want to…" the boy king bit his lip, unsure. "For some reason, I believe that killing him would do more evil than good. That if I kill him… I will damn myself and my reign" he sighed. "Tell me, Griff, have you seen something about him that didn´t sit well with you? Something… known?"

"I have noticed he had Valyrian blood, but nothing else" the Stormlord said. "Please, your Grace, do what I told you and execute him. He is nothing but an obstacle to you."

"I will think about it" answered Aegon, but he already knew what to do. He had to kill the Mad Wolf, as the bastard was called, and be done with the threat. Nothing else will return peace to his host.

Meanwhile, Jon Snow knew what they were talking about. He knew that he reached the end of his deal with Aegon, but he couldn´t stop. Not for his diseased brother Robb nor for anyone. Not until he managed to get enough blood to clench the fire that was burning inside of him. Burn them all, burn them all, burn them all, BURN THEM ALL! That phrase was repeated over and over again in his head, something he embraced with enthusiasm. There was a sense of satisfaction every time he did so, specially when he did so with a Lannister or a Frey, some of poetic justice for his murdered brother… He burned Daveth Lannister, Hosteen Frey and others just for the game, to feel alive again, to feel something after he got the news that the last known member of his family, Sansa Stark, disappeared and probably died. He wanted to feel that again.

Burn them all, burn them all, a voice called from inside of him. Do you feel it? Do you only feel alive when you are murdering everyone? When you are stepping over the ashes of your kinsmen, after consuming them?

"Yes" Jon answered the voice, walking towards a place even he couldn´t recognize. It was the volcano of Dragonstone, where the dragons used to reside when the Targaryens were only Lords of the Island and dragon riders, before the Conqueror and his sisters even opened their eyes to the world. A sound that sounded so… comprehensive. As they were meant to be together since before he came into the world.

Search for me then. Two broken dragons can only belong together. The voice continued talking, practically guiding him. To kill, to burn, to teach our brothers that the brightest flames are the ones that won´t be forgotten. To show the Seven Kingdoms our light that will illuminate even the darkest of nights… turned against them.

"Yes" he continued, practically enthralled. Who was talking to him? He didn´t care, he just wanted to burn things. Burn the Freys for taking Robb away from him. Burn the Boltons for taking the only place he could call home away from him. Burn Illiryo and Varys and the people who used him. Lady Catelyn for enslaving him… and the Lannisters for Arya. Always for Arya, his dearest little sister.

Then come for me… come for me and say my name along with yours. Say our names and free us from the damn laws our people forced upon us… with Fire and Blood! Say our names and free us from any chain we still have!

Jon Snow… and you don´t have a name

The Valyrians gave me a name in the old and that´s not your true name. Your true name is of that of the Brightest Flame. Your true name is the one that should have shone in the darkest night and save the Realm… if a woman could have only set her fears aside and let you become what you should have. The voice continued, shaking a memory he didn´t remember he had. A sweet voice singing something. A name. What is your name?

"Ae…" he continued hearing that sound, tears in his eyes. Meanwhile, the executioner selected by Aegon approached the apparently demented man, the king watching from afar with his hand. It pained him to do this, but it had to be done. The Unsullied approached, his spear raised over the Snow. "Ae… rion… Ae… rion"

What is your name?

"Aerion Targaryen" he finally answered, tears in his eyes. His mother… his mother gave him that name, wishing him to give it a new meaning, also a name fit for the Prince who was Promised, the light that will bright the darkest night… the name of another demented dragon like himself. Fit for him,

What´s my name?

"Cannibal" no, it sounded not… oh, yes, Valyrian. It had to be said in Valyrian. The name of the abominable ones that ate their own kin… "Ancalagon" a chuckle and then a roar was heard in all the Island, shaking even the king and his Hand. Even Drogon, who turned his eyes towards the Dragonmount in time to see a gigantic figure emerge from it. "MY NAME IS AERION TARGARYEN AND MY DRAGON IS ANCALAGON, THE CANNIBAL!"

"What did you said?" asked Aegon when he heard the words, followed by the enormous dragon who finally emerged from the volcano, flying to his now former soldier, burning the executioner immediately.

"I´M AERION TARGARYEN, SON OF RHAEGAR AND LYANNA, AND DECLARE WAR ON THE SEVEN KINGDOMS!" the boy king stared at his just discovered brother, the little brother he had always asked for on his youth and never knew he already had, his poor mad brother who was the last victim of the madness that plagued their family. The brother that proceeded to mount his gigantic dragon and flew off to burn all his enemies, to burn all the people who ever hurt his family… and murder lots of innocents in his crusade for vengeance.

"AERION!" Aegon screamed after him, trying to retain him. He could help him, he was sure of it. There has to be some way He could help him. Some way…

-Months later-

"I can´t help you…" Aegon said. During the months the war was going on, Aerion and his mad dragon, Ancalagon the Cannibal, murdered thousands of people, burning from King´s Landing, crossing the Twins and then ending in Winterfell, where the sadistic Ramsay Bolton met his end after presenting the prince with the corpses of both Rickon and Sansa Stark. And as much as those actions were justified, the amount of charred bodies his brother left behind him was not. "Not if you don´t stop"

"How can I stop? I´m having the time of my life" the mad prince said. In his time in Westeros, he had avenged his family, put an end to the spectre of Lady Stark and her brotherhood and, most important, found Arya! He hadn´t burned anyone since he found her, coming back from the Twins. She… calmed him down… knew how to tame the hellfire inside of him. "Do you think you and your little girl of a wife can stop me?"

"Please, don´t make me do this" Aegon pleaded, as he and his queen danced with his brother. Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion moved around him, distracting and attacking Ancalagon as the enormous dragon tried to eat them. They danced and danced and danced for hours over the Ruby Ford, where their birth father and brother died. Rhaegal and Drogon finally managed to immobilize the Cannibal´s wings, prompting him to the ground, but at the cost of Viserion´s life, who was eaten by the monster.

"You… YOU!" the prince jumped down from his dragon, ready to duel with his sibling. Aegon answered with Blackfyre, fighting with the other as Daenerys tried to control the dragons. The brothers duelled for their lived, duelled for their dragons in front of Jon Connington´s eyes, who was praying for the Seven to intervene, to don´t make Rhaegar´s sons murder each other in their father´s dying place, to spare his son from becoming a kinslayer… no use. Aegon´s blade finally pierced Aerion´s chest, just over the heart.

"Forgive me…" he asked in a whisper as he saw his sibling´s life slip from him.

"MURDERER! KINSLAYER!" the horrified king heard a woman screaming, paralyzed in the place as the weight of what he had done felt on him. He was so traumatized that he didn´t notice Arya Stark running towards her brother, to hold him as he bled to death. The faceless woman showed him her teeth once he stopped breathing and threatened. "You murdered him… I WILL KILL YOU!"

"I… I didn´t want to…" he couldn´t finish his sentence, as Ancalagon freed himself from the two other dragons in that moment, flying over to his rider before picking him and his sister up and fleeing over to the east. Aegon felt to the ground on his knees, sobbing. This would mar his soul for the rest of his life, no matter what Connington tried to make him believe as he consoled him with a hand on his shoulder.

And just as he believed, the people talked behind his back about this for years, calling him accursed. Unchallenged because of the dragons, accursed because of his sin. Even in his coronation, where he was named Aegon VI Targaryen, the people called him the Kinslayer King, reminding him ever that his brother´s blood was on his hands, which make him an accursed sinner.

"You will never defeat the true enemy like this" someone talked to him one day in the godswood, as a raven landed on the heart tree. He stared at it, wondering if he was also going insane. "You need Aerion for the War to come."

"Who are you?"

"The oracle of the Old Gods, the one that sees everything… the Three Eyes Raven" answered Brandon Stark from his weirwood grove. "And come with a proposition."

"What?"

"Don´t you want to get rid of your nickname? Go back in time to avoid this to happen?"

"Tell me more"

-In the far east-

"Hope this works, because of not…"

"You will kill me, Faceless one, I know" Kinvara said, as she washed the body of the dead prince with her hands, placing him in a circle of fire, a Valyrian steel sword over his chest, in his hands. "But you forget that we want the same, young girl. The Prince who was Promised needs to be alive for the war to come."

"I don´t know" she said, looking at Jon with a sad face, then at her sword. The same sword that saw her through the House of Black and White. The sword that was her favourite brother´s, her Jon Snow´s smile. She wanted him back with her so much… but perhaps it was better to let him rest. To let him keep his peace, the only piece he could find with his addled mind. "He wouldn´t want…"

"It´s not our choice, little girl, and he will need you. For a reason you were saved" the priestess started to chant, the flames around the body growing and growing. A few seconds after she finished, the previously dead body started to breath again. It didn´t take long for it to open his eyes.

"Arya" he called, extending his hand towards her. She reciprocated and smiled. Aerion Targaryen was back to life.

Yes, it´s strange, but I once read a fic of Jon with Targaryen madness and I wanted to try something like that. Well, apart from that, before continuing with my longer proyects, I needed to get a few things out of my head, so... do you like it? Hope you enjoyed it! Review!