Arya Stark stumbled upon them by accident. There was a terrible storm raging, and they had docked in the nearest port they could find. She had never been to Pentos before, but quickly put two and two together. The inns were nearly full, so she had seen that her crew had rooms to sleep, deciding that she would use her skills to find a bed.
She decided to try the servant's quarters at a large manse she had seen from the water. Arya had snuck into servant's quarters before, and knew not to expect much, but that she could likely slip in unnoticed.
She entered through the back entrance, already having changed into simple linen clothes and having put on a face for good measure. It took her a moment to find where she was headed, and she accidently found herself in the main quarters. She heard the sound of a baby crying and started to retreat, but then heard a similar voice.
The tongue was Valyrian, but that only made Arya's memory sharper. The last time she had heard that voice, in that tongue, was King's Landing, the day the city burned. She cursed herself for not bringing Needle with her, but assured herself that she could find a suitable replacement for the time being.
Then she heard the babe cry again and it hit her. What if the baby was Jon's? She waited until the room was quiet again, then slipped in silently.
Daenerys Targaryen was sleeping peacefully, and two cribs were sitting on both sides of her bed. Twins?
Arya peeked into the crib and saw a pair of grey eyes staring back at her. Jon's eyes. The baby's hair was short and silver, but it also had Jon's curls. Arya tried not to gasp, and immediately made a decision.
Her brother had been miserable the past year and a half. She had only visited him once, having been spending most of her time traveling, but clearly he had no reason to live and was impatiently waiting for his death. He deserved some happiness. The happiness his child could provide.
Arya quietly picked up the babe, careful not to wake Daenerys. She would come back for the second once the first was secure on her ship. However, after turning the corner the second baby started to cry.
She could hear Daenerys comforting the child, but then heard her voice fill with panic. "Rhaella?"
Arya held her breath as servants rushed past her. She pressed herself a little deeper into the wall. "RHAELLA?"
Daenerys was screaming, pain lacing her voice. The other child started wailing as well. Worrying the baby in her arms would wake, she rushed from the manse, making it back to her ship undetected.
"Rhaella, hmm?" The babe was sleeping peacefully in an old crate Arya had lined with blankets to make a makeshift crib. "I never was too good with babies. But we'll get you to your Papa in no time. He was always great when me and your Uncles Bran and Rickon were little."
She bent down to smooth back the baby's hair. "He's going to love you so much, Rhaella. I know I already do."
"Rhaella?" Jon's stern voice rang out through the hall. "Rhaella, hurry up or we're going to be late!"
"Coming, Papa!" Her clear voice came from the chamber at the end of the hall and Jon moved towards it. When he got into her room he found her frantically trying to pull back her hair and he let out a small chuckle.
"Do you want some help?" She nodded vigorously, happily handing over the brush. He quietly got to work, smiling as he combed out the unruly curls that mirrored his own, only in silver. "How do you want me to do it?"
"Can you just pull back the sides and leave the back down? I like having it long." She smiled, relieved to not have to try to do it herself.
"Of course, sweetheart. Are you sure you don't want me to braid it? It used to look so pretty when you'd let me braid it."
She shook her head, almost yanking her hair out of his hands. "No. I don't want to look like her. Especially not while we're in the capital."
Jon sighed and nodded, seeing the sense in what she was saying. Rhaella was being announced as Bran's heir for her ninth name day in a week, and neither wanted to give off the impression of being too Targaryen. Jon was insisting that he be addressed by Jaehaerys and his daughter by Rhaella, both of House Targaryen, but that was far enough.
Both were wearing grey, their clothes emblazoned with direwolves wherever possible. When they stayed on Dragonstone they both wore plenty of red and black, Jon favoring black and his daughter favoring red. Jon consistently wore black in any kingdom, but Rhaella liked to wear blue and grey when in the King's Landing or the North.
Ever since she had learned about the King's Landing Massacre, she hadn't wanted to be a Targaryen anymore, though her father pressed her to be proud of their house. He reminded her of all the good their family had done and made sure their Maester paid special attention to Targaryen history in her lessons.
Just as Jon was finishing tying the cord in Rhaella's hair to keep it back, there was a knock at the door and both turned.
"Aunt Arya!" Rhaella shouted, rushing to give Arya a huge hug.
"I thought I'd come see what's taking so long. I dropped anchor an hour ago, yet you have yet to board!" She smiled and gave Jon a knowing nod. Rhaella wasn't known for her punctuality.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Arya. I'm ready now. Are you going with us?"
Jon answered, gesturing for Arya to come help him lift Rhaella's trunk. "Aye, we're going to travel to King's Landing on her ship."
"Really? Will I get to help steer it?"
Jon responded. "I don't know that I trust you to man a ship just yet. But maybe we can do some fishing."
Rhaella looked a little disappointed, but as soon as Jon's back was turned Arya nodded, indicating that Rhaella would indeed be steering the ship at some point in the near future.
"I saw that." Jon called back.
"Saw what?" Rhaella asked innocently.
"Arya, if you let her steer and we end up shipwrecked I'm going to make Bran throw you in the cells."
Arya laughed. "Like a cell could ever hold me."
The three kept smiling and joking as they made their way down to her ship.
The voyage was pleasant. The weather was good, and they reached King's Landing in only a few short days. Rhaella did indeed get to sail the ship, with her aunt watching her closely. She and her father tried to fish, without much success. Her favorite part of the voyage was when her aunt agreed to spar with her for a bit.
Arya had put a sword in Rhaella's hand when she was five, much to Jon's dismay. He left the two alone for two weeks to visit a vassal lord and when he returned his daughter was in love with swordplay and he couldn't deter her from continuing to practice.
Now that she was nearing nine she was much more proficient than her father or aunt had been at that age, in both Westerosi and Braavosi styles. She especially liked Braavosi style, mostly because it still tripped Jon up sometimes. Whenever she trained with Arya that meant learning new moves and fighting styles, seeing as Arya was travelling all over the world and learning as many styles as she could.
Once they reached King's Landing she was sad to leave the ship, but was thrilled when she discovered that her aunt would be staying to attend her coronation as crown princess. She hoped that meant she would get to practice every day, although she also understood that she was going to have to attend an uncomfortable number of small council meetings every day.
Most of the small council had been aware of her existence for the duration of her time in Westeros, although the Lords and Ladies she would be crowned in front of were oblivious.
Shortly before Arya brought Rhaella to Westeros it was discovered that Grey Worm and the Unsullied had perished, so there wasn't much preventing Bran from pardoning Jon. It was decided that Jon would rule Dragonstone until Rhaella was old enough to take over, and that Rhaella would be Bran's heir and carry on the royal line.
When Jon heard the offer he asserted that he didn't want it, but Bran had insisted that Rhaella would be his heir, and Jon would only be allowed to raise her if he raised her as such. Jon had begrudgingly accepted, and found that he didn't mind ruling, especially because it offered him an opportunity to teach his daughter how to do so. Additionally, he and Rhaella were free to leave Dragonstone for a few months each year to visit the North and the capitol.
They spent most of their time in the North with Tormund, though Sansa often insisted on hosting them for a few weeks. When they stayed in King's Landing they spent a majority of their time in Flea Bottom.
Jon wanted his daughter to understand and care for the small folk, and to never repeat the mistake her mother made. Every year he would dye her hair to avoid recognition and the two would spend a month in Flea Bottom, helping to rebuild the city and getting to know the small folk.
He made sure Rhaella understood no one in Flea Bottom could know their true identities, but at first he didn't tell her why, although she figured out pretty quickly that Targaryens were evil in King's Landing.
Jon had grown up not knowing anything about his mother, and made sure that his daughter wouldn't be able to say the same. He told her that Daenerys had died in childbirth, because that was what Arya told him. Whenever Rhaella would ask about her he would tell her about how they met, or how brave she was in the battles they fought, or how her smile could light up a room.
One day Rhaella came back to the inn they were staying at in Flea Bottom and asked if they were Targaryens like Daenerys Targaryen, or if they were different Targaryens. Jon had sat down with her and asked what she knew about Daenerys Targaryen.
"She was evil and mean and she took a big dragon and burned down King's Landing and killed everyone. She was the worst person to ever live and a hero named Jon Snow killed her and then Uncle Bran became King. Right?"
Jon started crying and knew he had failed their family. He hadn't known how to tell Rhaella about King's Landing, or how her mother had died the first time, but he knew that she had found out in the wrong way.
"Rhaella, I want you to listen very carefully, okay?" She nodded as he pulled her up onto his lap.
"Daenerys Targaryen was not evil."
"But she killed everyone!"
"She only did that because some very bad people hurt her. She didn't want to hurt anyone but bad people. Before she burned down the city there was a very evil queen, and Daenerys came to save the city from her."
"Was the other queen more evil than Daenerys?"
"Yes. Daenerys came to save everyone from her, but because the bad people hurt her she burned down the city."
"So she was bad?"
"No. What she did was bad, but Daenerys Targaryen was the best person I have ever known, besides you."
"You knew her?"
"Aye, I did. Before I became your Papa, my name wasn't Jaehaerys Targaryen. My name was Jon Snow."
"Wait, you killed Daenerys?"
"Yes, I did. And I regret it every day."
"But Papa, it's good that you killed her. She did a bad thing. She killed everyone."
"She also saved everyone. It wasn't her fault that the bad people hurt her."
"I don't understand."
Jon took a deep breath and held his daughter closer. "Rhaella, Daenerys Targaryen was your mother."
"What?" She sat there, unmoving, in shock. Slowly tears began to fall down her face. "No."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should have told you long ago, but I didn't know how. Daenerys was your mother, and she did a bad thing but that didn't make her a bad person."
Rhaella shook her head, sobbing. Jon held her to his chest and she hugged him back. After she had calmed down she looked up at him with the saddest expression he had ever seen. "Papa, it's good that you killed her."
"No, it's not. It wasn't her fault. She was misled, I know she never wanted to hurt anyone."
Rhaella shook her head. "I love you, Papa. I'm glad you're my Papa and I'm glad she isn't my Mama."
"Rhaella-" He didn't know what to say. He didn't want Rhaella to hate her mother. She had always loved the stories he would tell of how brave she had been during the Long Night. "I love you too, sweetheart. And I know your mother loved you very much."
Rhaella was slightly disappointed that she had to spend all of her time in the Red Keep during this visit, but she was glad she didn't have to dye her hair. She hated it, but she knew it kept her safe because otherwise someone might know she was a Targaryen. They were about to throw all caution to the wind though.
"May I introduce Rhaella, of House Targaryen, daughter of Daenerys and Jaehaerys Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, and heir to the throne."
A hush fell over the throne room as Rhaella stepped forward, next to Bran. Her father and Arya stood behind them on either side, ready to come to their defense.
Robin Arryn stepped forward first. "Forgive me, your Grace, but what is the meaning of this?"
Bran remained completely calm and emotionless. "I'm naming Rhaella Targaryen as my heir."
Robin furrowed his brow even further. "Yes, but why?"
"Because she'll be a good queen."
"Yes, but, after what her family has done, after what her mother did- How did she even come to be born? Jon Snow killed Daenerys, and she never had a child. And who is Jaehaerys? And what is Jon Snow doing here, I thought he was exiled-"
Bran raised his hand to cut him off. "Daenerys Targaryen was resurrected by a Red Priestess after her death, then died in childbirth. Her daughter was fathered by Jaehaerys Targaryen, the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, formerly known as Jon Snow."
The room fell silent again, everyone's expressions one of shock. This time it was Edmure Tully that stepped forward. "That doesn't change what her mother did- what her family is-"
This time it was Rhaella that cut him off. " I know what a monster Daenerys Targaryen was."
Jon flexed his jaw at hearing his daughter say it. Every time she did, it hurt. He hated to hear the conviction in her voice when she said it.
"Daenerys was my mother, and I can do nothing to help that. I carry the weight of her crimes with me every day, and until my last day I will do everything I can to make amends for them. I am not the Mad Queen, and until my dying breath I will oppose everything she did and the tyranny her rule would have brought."
There were hushed murmurs among the Lords and Ladies, but no one else came forward.
"With that out of the way then," Bran announced, "I think it's time to crown her."
The High Septon stepped forwards and performed the ceremony. The new sept still hadn't been built, and in order to keep Rhaella's existence a secret for a little bit longer, it was decided a private coronation in the throne room would suffice.
After the lengthy ceremony Rhaella stood, with a new circlet on her head. All those gathered clapped, though many with hesitancy. When Rhaella took her leave she saw many Lords approaching her Uncle and his Hand, many with distraught expressions. She hadn't expected to be popular right away, but she had still hoped for acceptance. Would her mother's crimes haunt her her entire life?