#c: rhea

[visxionaries]

who: @rhea-florent when and where: set following his conversations with halima yronwood and tirius rowan, cedric tyrell sees his spy mistress the following morning. they are enjoying a leisurely morning stroll, following cedric's first official meeting with his newest member of the family - cillian.

the morning air was cool, touched with the scent of fresh blooms from the gardens surrounding highgarden’s sprawling paths. cedric tyrell strode with an unhurried grace, his gaze fixed ahead as lady rhea tarly walked beside him, her pace matching his. their surroundings were idyllic—soft birdsong, the murmur of fountains, and the golden light of dawn spilling over the emerald expanse of their home—but cedric’s thoughts were far from tranquil. “a plan has been set into motion,” he began, his voice calm but with an edge of finality. he didn’t look at her directly; his eyes lingered instead on the vibrant rows of roses they passed.

“it is delicate, rhea. not one for prying eyes or wandering ears. yet, like all plans worth their salt, it will require your expertise to guide it to its inevitable conclusion. in a few days, or weeks, or months, events will unfold, and the realm will turn its gaze where it’s meant to. you will not speak to me of this again, nor will i speak to you. our silence, as always, will be our strength. when it is done, the results will speak for themselves.”

his eyes narrowed slightly, though his expression remained calm. “this is not for the council. not for tirius rowan...not for tion peake. not for omer, not for lucrezia...they will have no part in this." that was a lie regarding tirius rowan; only, he would not implicate tirius as being fine with the murder of one of his own. not when they sit at the same table, and there already remained tension between tirius and rhea that he was not blind to. he clasped his hands behind his back, the cool morning breeze brushing against his face. “there are whispers already, as there always are. but they’re unfocused, scattershot. i need them shaped, narrowed. targeted, in the aftermath of something specific.” he finally glanced at her, his hazel eyes sharp and expectant.

cedric paused near a low stone bench, his gaze softening momentarily as an attendant walked by holding a young girl—his cousin's daughter helena, —her laughter echoing across the garden. cedric offered a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. when the child had disappeared around the corner, his expression hardened once more. “you’ll ask no questions about the particulars of the plan,” he continued, his tone lowering but firm. “you to understand the need for discretion, even among allies. i've already sourced someone willing to sully their blade; all you need do is spin the blood to face toward the high septon when it comes."

[omerflorent]

who: @rhea-florent what: before omer departs to deal with braavosi pirate and get a temperature from various knights around westeros he visits with his sister.

Omer Florent stood in the center of his solar at Highgarden, the heart of his command in the Reach. The room was large and imposing, as befitting the High Commander of the Reach. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of battle and the proud history of House Tyrell. A large, polished wooden desk sat at the far end of the room, its surface scattered with maps of the Reach, strategic reports, and sealed letters awaiting his attention. Several chairs lined the room, all worn from use, where officers and trusted advisors had sat across from him as they discussed matters of war and defense.

He stood at the window for a moment, watching the golden fields stretch out in the distance. He had grown used to the weight of responsibility, but it did not make it any easier. There was much to do before he left to deal with the growing threat of the Braavosi pirates. He turned in time to see Rhea as she entered, he offered a smile as took a seat. "I'll be joining in some of the fighting soon."

He gestured to the maps on his desk. “There’s a storm brewing, and I need your sharp eyes more than ever. The pirates in our waters are only the beginning. I’ll be visiting some kingdoms, I want to see the state of their waters, ask fighting men what they know. I'm sure there are angles I'm missing. I just, before I do all of this, have you heard anything? Is anyone siding with these pirates?"

[lucreziasredwyne]

who: @rhea-florent when and where: a family dinner with rhea and lucrezia, in which the women have been left as the only two at the table following others leaving one by one. this in the aftermath of rhea's tension with tirius rowan, and following lucrezia's conversation with the hand of the king.

and all had heard of the supposed dispute that had arisen between the hand of the king and the mistress of whispers in the aftermath of the shutdown of all negotiations and communication with the island of lys. it impacted very little people in the reach, aside from house rowan, for the wife of the hand of the king was the talk of the kingdom and beyond some years ago. she continued to quietly poke at a piece of venison on the plate, clearly full but now merely playing with what was left of her food on her plate.

she could hear the sound of her good sister sat across from her, in an accent that wrapped around in the brightwater tongue. though her and omer had their ups and downs over the years, they had come to a place where they were now in one another's lives. she would not lie and pretend there were not times she remembered rhea's presence within the iron islands all those years ago, and the sound of the arbor's bells ringing - and then she quietly reminded herself she was a child. her choice was not made in earnest.

"genuinely, i doubt i will ever get a hand on the language. i roll my r's differently and it comes out sounding a shambles." lucrezia spoke, a half smile on her face as she placed her hand upon her chin. she were happy to receive her husband's family in a home that was her own, and always had been; for being raised in the old way, lucrezia learned the political mechanisms of a family. "what was it i said the other day…" she trailed off, her expression clearly being one of thought as she sat up in her chair. "honestly i do not even know myself, but the servants, john especially - started coughing on his drink. seven rhea, i think i accidentally cursed."

[magpietrait]

they kept autonomously talking about marriage so i made rhea do something about it

[tiriusrowan]

| @rhea-florent | | setting :: after speaking with the king and learning the spy mistress is to speak with his wife, the hand of the king sets an appointment with her. |

This pirate cunt wanted to question his wife.

They were describing it as a conversation but it wasn't a conversation. He wasn't here as a husband with his wife, he was here as the councilor of the Lady of Goldengrove. She would be treated a criminal for simply doing as her husband instructed, doing as he husband wished for her to do. Tirius Rowan sent his family to her father's home in the beginning days of the Civil War, the the battle of brother roses that led into his backyard, one where a man had mangled and his brother made a prisoner.

The Rowans gave everything to House Tyrell, they would continue to give everything to their King. They were an old house. A house of honor. Truth and justice. What proves our virtue, those were their house words and those words described them to their core. And to have someone dare to question his wife. Smarmy. Smug, arrogant pirate scum. He could not be impartial and he would not be impartial. When it came to his family there wasn't a chance in the seven hells he would be impartial here.

"Here's how this will work, lady Tarly, you ask your question, my wife will whisper her answer and then I will tell her to answer you. We will not see horse shit in the floor and call it pudding."

"This is an interrogation. You mean to question her as if she shared blood with reavers. Only one of us here have that dubious honor."

His wife covered his hand to stop him from speaking, she turned to face the woman and nodded her head.

"Begin."

[eileithyiia]

Aesthetic edit for @rheaeaseandflow

[vicedmuses]

there was a small smirk that formed on his face when she mentioned not knowing what he was doing. she really didn't know who she was getting when she signed up for this. "sweetheart, there's no part of me that thinks i'm going to disappoint." he's fucked literal judges and attorneys before to get them to change their minds on a proceeding. maybe even some jury members when the time called for it. illegal, sure, but effective. so this wasn't going to be something that he was going to second guess himself on. he knew law and he knew sex better than anything else in his toolbox. those were his bread and butter.

rhea had lived recklessly for years and she has never been sorry about it. she even thrived on it because she knew she could get away with it or find away to but sitting across from corbin, she knew it would be another thing off her list. she didn't mind it, everyone wanted something from someone. she wanted free from this lawsuit and he wanted to get laid. now, that made her laugh. did he really think she never played this game before? that she haven't spread her legs to no go to jail? "is that so? well, just make sure you know what you're doing, wouldn't want to be disappointed with the out come."

[knightofthenewrepublic]

[dmhunk]

HOLY SHITTTTTTTT

[visxionaries]

who: @rhea-florent​ where: cedric tyrell’s private gardens, shortly following his most recent discussion with the hand of the king, lord tirius rowan. the reach has officially decreed all association with lys to be broken, alongside the summer isles.

the private gardens were truthfully an area in which the king of thorns and roses would not often be found; for whilst they were indeed private, he thought if there was one place anyone would expect him to be discussing private business, it would be in these cordoned off gardens. and yet still, here the king of the reach found himself walking alongside his cousin; momentarily realising just how short she was. it seemed as though regardless of how many years passed, he would always remember the sight of her in what felt like the darkest of her days; eyes that were hollow, and how frail she seemed. 

“i’ve already spoken of the matter with tirius, but i wished to speak to you separately before the council meeting tomorrow morning.” there the news would be broken regarding the official decrees discussed earlier in the day. 

it were obvious that malnourishment had only been one of the issues she had faced upon being taken prisoner upon a westerlands ship. the dance of dragons, and all that had resulted from it, had taken many innocent victims over the decade it amassed. and the fact was, the majority had to continue with the legacy - the lucky ones were the ones who were dead. those that were able to rest from it all. 

“come morning, the lyseni will be forcibly piled onto a vessel stationed on the mander. they will be removed back to lys, and all trade will be formally shut down. there is to be no attempts at reconciliation that do not pass through the crown.”

the king of the reach and the lady of horn hill remained sat upon a bench, deeper into the gardens; surrounded by white roses that had seemingly been ordered to be planted by his wife. at their feet sat the child that was truly cedric’s niece, rather than just the daughter of his cousin; considering harlon was, in truth, his brother. that was something that had been exposed during the trial by alaric tyrell, and yet, continued to be rumours. cedric looked down at the chubby bundle dressed in hues of white and red polka dots, his hands on either side of her to keep her upright as she continued to tear off petal after petal. as though he wished to support her in a way he had not been able to support her namesake. 

he hated the way his stomach seemed to drop each time he looked upon her rosy cheeks, or the way her round orbs seemed to widen more as she babbled. in time, it would get better; that was something he knew. and yet, he wished he did not have to force the smile that crossed his features. 

“any personal matters and communication with the lyseni are to be monitored by you. family and whatnot. that includes the lady of goldengrove.” 

[ofnobilites]

Rhea Greyjoy. He'd be a fool to not think she had greatly influenced his father's decision on marriage. He'd not thought much of her beyond someone he'd spoken to a few times. He knew his father saw her as a strong ally and he agreed with that. But it didn’t mean he wanted to marry her. His father knew how much he loved Joanna and he knew that she was here. Marrying a Blackwood not affiliated with House Targaryen would help secure the Riverlands. And they needed the Riverlands. His father had to see that, they already had the Iron Islands. Even without him they had the Greyjoy sister who seemed to be obsessed with Baelora in. There were options.

Monterys managed to smile, he’d get out of this marriage, he wasn’t afraid of that. If he could convince Joanna then he’d have it all taken care of. If she disagreed, then he’d have no reason to fight it anyway. He would concede to marrying her and living a loveless life. At least they’d maybe be able to bond over their ships. “If she goes to nudge you, I’d be more worried she’s trying to take your life.” Sliding his hand down her snout again he pressed his head against her, “She’s not gently bullying anyone but me.” Adjusting his shoulders he hissed. “Maybe not so gently.”

That was one bit he had luck in, he was able to get to his ship. He couldn’t rightly steer or help with anything but he could get there. “My Sea Dragon is sitting unused on the shore right now. I understand the sentiment. ” It would be a land battle and even then one he couldn’t take place in. But Rhea wouldn’t either. “Tell me Lady Greyjoy. Did it take much for my father to agree to the betrothal? I’d like to know what sort of price his crown prince went for.” There was a bitterness in his tone but it wasn’t exactly her fault, she knew what she wanted. His father had been the one to not consult him.

She had been heading toward the outer terrace when she caught a glimpse of him sneaking around. Had she been sensible she would have called out to him, asked him if he needed anything and requested he return to his chambers. Not that she had any power over him to make him but she knew their mother's were similar in the way they would both throw a fit at what they were doing right now.

No, instead of doing the right thing, she did the fun thing. Although she was unable to follow him in her current state she thought she had good idea of where he was going. She had come to learn recently that dragons and their riders were really no different than the attachments the Greyjoys had to their ships. Except one had a heart beat and the other did not.

She tried her best to stand tall in front of the prince and the dragon. She had a few interactions with Rhaena's in the past but they still made her greatly uncomfortable. "I'm afraid there'd be no fun in pushing me around, I would fall with simply one nudge" She commented as she lift one crutch from under her arm while forcing a joking smile. She was playing a risky game, being so honest and open with the pair. "I wanted to see where you were going, my prince. I have to admit, I am very jealous. I wish nothing more than to be with my ship right now"

[xxgalacticambitionsxx]

stupidest hear me out cake ever

did this with @kittieshauntedourfantasy @gengar-pixel-2

[magpietrait]

rhea has to teach her city slicker fiance how to ride (a horse)

[briannabrackens]

♣️

the lady of stone hedge let out an audible gasp as a pudgy hand only grabbed hold of her thick tresses harder, tugging at the braid that came down the side of her shoulder as though it were a toy; the woman rose to her feet, careful to ensure she did not let any curses slip from her mouth before the infant baby whilst trying to pry her tight fist closed. "helena, no. these aren't kind hands yer usin." brianna spoke, remembering the words her own governess often used with her; old nan was responsible for every maternal, warm instinct that seemed to appear within the words of brianna bracken.

"c'mon lassy, look. look. who is that beauty? aye! no, remember we said kind hands!" she found herself showing helena her own reflection in the mirror, using the girl's fascination with her own reflection to try and continue to pry open the tight fist. and then her mother came to the rescue, helena's hands opening as she extended them towards rhea; brianna almost praised the gods with thanks as she wordlessly passed the babe over back into the hands of her ma, putting a hand upon the hair which had been tugged, almost massaging it as she let in a breath.

it was only then she fully contemplated the words the mistress of whispers had said in passing, no doubt the tease - she twirled back around from where she was stood in the mirror, her facial expression one of mixed shock, amusement and denial. "who in seven hells are ya speaking of?" brianna asked, denial planted clearly over each of her features: from her freckles, her full lips, her doe-like orbs. arms crossed over the bodice of her dress, a checkered tartan material of dark blue and dark green. "do come off it. you've never danced wit a man, nah?" she asked, wondering why it was so many seemed to be making small comments. not only her close friends, but rhea too.

"he's nice to look at, and we had a good conversation…but marryin' into the west?" she scoffed, her hands coming to rest on either side of her bodice. "i have one head. i'd like to keep it."

The Mistress of Whispers knew better than most that a single secret could topple entire empires. A single secret could bring down holy men from the pedestals of grace and devotion they built for themselves as well. The right words were spoken and written down, and by order of her cousin, the seeds of discord were planted. From the unfortunate truth of a septa's secret pregnancy, the situation continued to grow and develop into the sort of narrative that would entirely ruin a man like the High Septon.

“Huh?” the Tarly lady asked somewhat absentminded, having been completely focused on the task at hand while Bri took care of her little Helena. As she glanced up from the parchment paper before her, she was met with the lovely sight of her darling daughter clutching her dear friend's braided hair as if life itself depended on it. A smirk crossed Rhea's features followed by an amused laugh. “Oh yeah, I'll send your regards to that frosty old corpse, he'll be pleased to receive notice from a pretty lass like you, Bri”.

It was sweet, hearing the Lady of Stone Hedge call Helena a little clover. Most deemed her baby girl a pearl for whom she'd been named after, but a clover was more fitting, Rhea thought. Helena had Florent blood in her as much as she did Tyrell, the ways of the people of Brightwater Keep were to be hers, their ancestral tongue, their sense of community of those that shared the roots of the foxes and clovers. “Don't be leaving your auntie Brianna without her precious hair, love,” the Mistress of Whispers said as she finished sealing shut the letter she'd been writing, getting up from her seat to stand by her friend.“Tar anseo, mo stóirín,” Come here, my treasure, the lady said as she reached out to hold her daughter. “Fágann tú maol í agus conas a gheobhaidh sí a tiarna Thiar? Is maith le muintir an iarthair a gcuid gruaige breágh,” You leave her bald and how will she get her lord of the West? West folk like their luscious heads of hair, Rhea joked, very much to tease the Bracken lady and to mock the men of the West she had so little love for.

[deathbirby]

I don't know if Rhealeth is fully your thing, but like what are your thoughts

I eat Rhealeth for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I think they're neat. Being able to let go of a fantasy and truly see the person who was always there for you.

Also the meme potential... Jeralt tells Byleth to be careful of Rhea and Byleth completely ignores that and invites her to tea and yeeted gifts at her.

Or Byleth seeing Rhea reveal her true form and immediately going to help her when they see she is in trouble. They deadass do not care about what she looks like. Imagine them running down that hill while they're internally going "HOLY FUCK THATS HOT"

Or how Byleth is so fucking concerned for Rhea in SS (and VW) and just wants to find her. They're running around Fodlan looking under rocks and climbing in trees to find her you just know.

Oh and Byleth not escaping when Rhea blasts the nukes at Shambhala when they could absolutely do that. They're worried for their dragon pope...

Also Byleth running over to Rhea's unconscious form and holding them like that "you good?" "no" meme.

And before the battle they just look so sad when Seteth tells them they gotta ohko Rhea. They dont wanna do that damn ittt.

And then the final cutscene. Byleth deadass ran ALL THE WAY to the cathedral while SOMEHOW keeping up with this big fuck off dragon. They were determined to get to her in time. And then they hold her as she flatlines from peak fiction.

[mxmoth]

THE JUDGMENT DAY on WWE RAW | 4-15-24