Rhialta Tully is the eldest daughter born to Lord Perceon Vance, the Hand of the King, and his wife, Shiera Velaryon. She is the second of the five children born to them.

Her marriage to the legitimised bastard Lord Damion Tully was arranged at the will of Queen Visaera Targaryen.

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Appearance

Rhialta has been blessed with long, often tempestuous, dark hair that falls long in curls to her waist and appears more auburn in the sunlight, no doubt due to Tully heritage on her father's side of the family. She has her father's eyes; inquisitive, questioning, and bright blue. She has a fair complexion, save for the few freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose, and high cheekbones kissed by the natural blush afforded by youth and vitality. Rhialta was often described as a 'slip of a girl', petite creature that she is, standing only a few inches taller than five feet, with a willowy frame, small breasts, and a narrow waist. Motherhood has changed her once petite body, however. Her waist and stomach have thickened from birthing six children, and while she is still a slight woman, the stretch marks of childbirth have made their mark upon her. Age and motherhood has softened Rhialta's face, giving her a motherly nature; kinder and softer than her youth.

History

Early Years

Rhialta Vance is the eldest daughter and the second child of five born to Lord Perceon Vance and his wife, Shiera Velaryon in the year 389 AC. With dark hair like her siblings and curious eyes bearing different colors, it is said that the girl was a beauty right from the start.

In her infancy, Rhialta could not be settled by either her mother’s voice or her nurse's song, but instead was only ever happy being cradled in her father’s arms. And from thereafter, once she’d found her footing, she never failed to stray terribly far from him or her older brother Preston if she could but help it, toddling along behind them through the massive keep as well as the grounds.

From an early age, it was discovered that Rhialta had little patience for most things becoming of a highborn lady. Embroidery threads tangled and knotted whenever she attempted to sew, harp strings broke, and she had no desire whatsoever to learn how to sing. Histories of Harrenhal, her father's predecessors, the Green Men, or the Targaryen dragons were but some of the only subjects which might keep her contented and sitting still for hours on end inside at lessons, when otherwise she'd much rather be left to her own devices exploring both in and out-of-doors. Rhialta had a knack for finding her way, even as a child, and could wander for hours on end without ever setting foot outside the great curtain walls of the keep.

When she wasn’t satisfying an innate curiosity that led to exploring the supposedly cursed and no doubt haunted keep in which she'd been born, she could be found curled up with a book in an effort to sate other curiosities, and often in the most curious of places—like the stables, for instance. While some young ladies might have spurned a seventh name day’s gift of horseflesh, calling the gelding a smelly beast, it was love at first sight for Rhialta. Though she’d been learning to ride from a very early age, having her own horse meant far more time dedicated to becoming quite the skilled horsewoman. Her mother frowned upon a young lady learning to care for the animals, but as Rhialta tended not to be a particularly demanding child, her father was prone to indulge her wishes otherwise.

The Scarlet Winter

A fever brought on the harsh winds of winter pervaded the ruins Rhialta Vance called home in early 402 AC, taking hold of the girl, three and ten at the time, and her grandfather within its chilling grasp. While Lord Perwyn made his escape only through death, Rhialta remained firmly within the fever's clutches for the better part of a few moons. Delirium delivered the ghosts of Harrenhal regularly into her waking nightmares as she babbled incoherently between screams. At one point, she woke to darkness that lingered for weeks while the maester wondered if the illness had robbed the youth permanently of her eyesight. Colours, however, returned as the fever began to break.

Weakness, however, followed. Initially, the maester proclaimed it natural following moons spent abed, while onlookers awaited the Stranger's visit. Strength returned, little by little to prove the learned man right, though fainting spells following any exertion brought only more questions. Frail, the new descriptor that followed close in the wake of any mention of the Vance girl's name or health, as the maester explained that the fever's lingering presence had undoubtedly done some damage to her heart.

Nurses became more constant companions than ladies-in-waiting while her parents insisted that previous ventures out-of-doors were not off-limits. The black walls of Harren's halls became the youth's prison cell; painting soon became the only escape allowed beyond it. As the years passed, Rhialta's talent for capturing details upon canvas grew exponentially, while her health slowly, but very surely, returned. Much of her life over that period was marked out by the rate with which the young Vance devoured books; Secluded in her invalid state the company of the Maester or Castellan was as welcome as any visitor, and so the young noble learned much of statecraft and the running of a castle in the course of her recovery.

407 AC

Presently, her zest for life and living it rather than being confined indoors is often cause for worry to parents wont to be more protective than not. But they have borne no witness to further spells, and find it increasingly difficult to deny a daughter who appears, some five years after the fact, to have made a full recovery.

With the arrival of the Tournament of the Red Comet to Harrenhal, Rhialta is bound and determined to make up for the past two years she's been kept at home under strict supervision, rather than living at court with her father, the Hand of the King.

In the early days of the tenth moon, word arrived from Rhialta’s father of a monumental life-changing decision to wed her to the newly minted Lord of Riverrun, [Damion Tully]. The Tully boy had been born a bastard with the name Rivers, serving as a Goldcloak for the best part of his adult life before the Queen Visaera Targaryen had chosen to legitimise the man, and in near the same breath had decreed that Rhialta would be his Lady wife.

Circumstance required that the wedding should occur at short notice. Almost as soon as the momentum union had been celebrated at Harrenhal her wedding Lord Husband had struck out for Riverrun at the head of an army meant to reclaim the Tully's ancestral home.

She did not expect to have as good a life as she did in Riverrun. Rhialta knew that her father was not overtly happy with her match, and she was tentative on marrying a bastard - legitimised or not. Yet Damion proved to be a good husband, better than good. He trusted her enough to run the day-to-day of the castle, something Rhialta was extremely grateful for. Her father's daughter, her quick mind was given a challenging outlet, a job she relished in. The marriage proved bountiful as well. With six children in ten years, all surviving the birth, Rhialta counted herself extremely fortunate, and happy besides. It is likely love between husband and wife, and no lack of fondness regardless. The Lady of Riverrun is happy, content, and enjoys her life.