bliss lane
untitled
pixel skylines
Fai_Ryy
izzy's playlists!
One Nice Bug Per Day
gracie abrams
Not today Justin
we're not kids anymore.
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KIROKAZE
Game of Thrones Daily
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
@theartofmadeline
roma★
will byers stan first human second
No title available
todays bird
seen from Italy
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Denmark
@contempenitent
❦ Pinned
"The battle is over, but complacency kills. I will scout the area. If you need me, call out."
MUSE / MUN / STATS / INTERVIEW / THREADS Mauvier from Fire Emblem Engage | Closed RP Blog affiliated with the Officers Academy | Knight of Seiros | Portrayed by Aunyx
these things don't grow on trees
Mauvier & Lene - Mission Board: Herald - [Authority +1]
He hasn't stopped looking at the intricately-folded paper since it was placed in his hands by one of the higher knights.
Only the most virtuous are permitted? He may be a part of the Holy Knights of Seiros, but to Mauvier, this is just an occupational hazard. He certainly didn't have to prove his virtue to anyone to be handed an invitation to the Herald of Spring festival. The word doesn't fit into the tapestry of him.
Moreover...his name isn't on the invitation. One doesn't seem different from any other. Are they really vetting virtuousness at the proverbial door?
Something bothers him deeper than feeling unworthy of attending; does the herald of spring not belong to everyone? Even if they have tread crooked paths, made a wreckage of mistakes? How many will be deemed unfit just to watch the flowers bloom?
If anyone is watching him, staring, dumbfounded, he does not noticed. His eyes follow the flowing inkstrokes, all of the words blending. What can he possibly do?
@dancersnewme
blue-throated
Mauvier & Ninian - Mission Board: Herald - [Flying/Riding +1]
"Where in blazes did my saddlebag go? It was already strapped to my horse -- "
"You'd best not point any fingers at the pegasus knights; ours are missing, too."
"Mine's just torn open on the ground...have any of the wyverns been messed with?"
Mauvier lifts his eyes, keeping a thread of attention on the potential budding conflict as he readies Primrose for the return trek. Most of the lumenthus will be transported by the fliers, but Mauvier has been trusted with a parcel bound in dampened cloth. It seems, though they were plucked mere minutes ago, their glow has already begun to fade. perhaps it's only in his imagination.
It seems whatever has disturbed the mounts is going to cost them some time, though. Certainly it would be against each party's best interest to cause trouble for any of the others, even if some petty rivalries have been simmering under the surface. It's all of their heads on the line if their mission fails.
Still, seeing as Primrose is unaffected, Mauvier decides to take the lead and step in. He approaches the second-in-command of his unit, giving a quick bow in lieu of a formal greeting. "Is there a problem here? I thought we were ready to go."
Her gaze upon him is regretful, holding back frustration. "We were. Somebody clearly went on a tear, and there's no telling who. I'm afraid we can't be on our way until the matter is settled, though."
@ninisdance
hugh shall not pass
Mauvier & Hugh mini - Goddess Tower - Ethereal Ball 2026
It seems the wind has gone out of the would-be ruffian's sails pretty quickly. Perhaps he doesn't see Mauvier as someone worth trifling with, or just doesn't find the exchange particularly fun. At any rate, Mauvier is relieved that he won't have to pry this young man from the walls of the tower he's meant to protect.
He only asks for a name. It's a very small ask, and though Mauvier is hardly a man of compromise, he knows when he's getting the better end of a deal. "Mauvier," he answers, with a shallow bow. "Pleased to be acquainted. I would hope that in the future, we can meet on better terms, ah..."
Huh. He doesn't know the lad's name, either. Perhaps the exchange is equal, after all.
"And you?" Mauvier asks.
When Mauvier recognises that there's a name he doesn't know, the other man can only grin. It's like he knew this would happen, and that he, too, would need to provide a name back!
...who is he kidding? He totally forgot that he had not exchanged his name yet. What Mauvier doesn't know won't hurt him, though. Hugh can play up the act. He can look way cooler and competent this way, and Mauvier won't know. (He's not going to look that much cooler, Mr. Would-be Criminal.)
"It's Hugh." He says with a smile in his voice. Aside from playing up a rather silly moment of pride? There's nothing dangerous hiding in his grin. He brings his hands behind his head. "Alright, deal's a deal. I'll head on back, but...seriously, don't be a stranger, ok?"
He won't hold Mauvier to any promises. He's sure to have plenty to deal with the rest of tonight. He's probably fairly busy as a whole, given his position.
But maybe, on a night where he can afford a break?
It'd be fun to see him again.
-End
where the drifts get deeper
Non-Mission Board: Aphotic [Riding +1]
Mauvier's answer confirmed he was in agreement with Dimitri on the matter. The prince had suspected as such but it was good to know his judgment had been correct. It was paramount for a leader to be able to make a sound assessment of those they worked with.
"Perhaps no rule is best" Dimitri muses "That way you don't have to worry about breaking it"
A heinous thing for a ruler to say. Growing up his tutors had greatly impressed on him their importance to prevent the kingdom falling into lawless ruin. But the academy was teaching him that there were times when rules needed to be bent for justice to be upheld.
like finding those who led to our deaths the ghostly voices whispered in his ear.
Shuddering Dimitri follows Mauvier's instructions and leaps down from his own steed. "I wont secure my horse if that's acceptable Sir Mauvier" he says "I want him to be able to escape should anything try to attack him" Walking forwards, he begins to scan the ground for tracks, a task made easier by the fresh snow.
"The prints go this way" pointing further into the woods, the prince informs the older knight. "by your leave"
Mauvier doesn't blame Dimitri for staying on his steed -- if a quick retreat were necessary, remaining on horseback would be ideal. Although Mauvier isn't a gambling man, he puts all of his cards on hoping the beast means them little harm -- or can at least be easily subdued.
He forges a few paces ahead of Dimitri's horse. There's little point in keeping his steps light, since he's not built for stealth, and neither is the horse. But frankly, just catching a few glimpses of the creature is all he hopes for. Just the smallest sign that it's not worth tracking, not worth killing.
(If he must, he will. He'll do it in Dimitri's stead. Surely, a day will come when the young man must shed blood, but it need not be today. He need not get a taste for it so young.)
Then, a flash in the trees, like a shadow with mass. Mauvier halts, glancing backward at Dimitri. They're too close to speak; hopefully, he gets the hint.
A thick black tail swishes. From what Mauvier can see of its body, it's not poised to strike. It looks almost...relaxed. Like an overgrown, mangy housecat.
Mauvier holds his breath. I wish you no harm.
a promise fulfilled
mission board: herald | any +1
What is that? Eirika stops midway across the monastery as a bauble of light bounces in and out of her peripherals. Turning toward it she sees the full spectrum of its iridescent light as it dances through the air. Is it magic of some sort? She starts after it and catches up with only a few paces.
As she draws closer, the light grows, stretching toward her as if sensing her. Eirika raises her arms just as a flash of light engulfs her.
"Firene reminds me so much of Renais."
That is her voice, her words, but she is not speaking. She is not even moving, but she is, her body and words directed as if she were nothing more than a puppet. The world around her feels fuzzy and foreign, as if she is viewing it through some kind of lens, like a dream that clings to her. Where is she? Rolling hills and greenery stretch against a fair blue sky, reminiscent of her home but not quite the same.
Beside her is a man with short, dark hair who is clad in heavy armor. He is also much taller than herself, even moreso than her brother and her husband.
"Do you know this land well, Mauvier?"
Is that his name? She wonders how she knows it and who this man is to her, if anyone. This could all be a dream and yet she has the distinct feeling that it is not.
—@contempenitent !!
It had surprised Mauvier, when Lady Eirika had reported back with her Lord brother's request: he wished to see the loveliest sunset that Mauvier had ever witnessed. It's such a humble request; of all of the things the Twin Emblems have seen, could any pretty scenery in Mauvier's memory be a match?
Still, when Mauvier whisks them from the safety of the Somniel to the nostalgic plains of Firene, he can feel the awe in Lady Eirika's incorporeal body. Despite everything -- the dissolution of the Hounds, the mounting pressure of Sombron's forces -- all of his worries melt away at the sight of the sky.
Orange on the horizon, over the sea, like the flames pouring from the little port town --
"I sincerely hope it's to you and your brother's liking, Lady Eirika." Mauvier shakes away the memory, lingering over the fog of his parents' memory in the distant haze. "This sight was so commonplace when I was a child, I fear I took it for granted."
Plotting Call: Herald pt. 2
Mauvier is Unaffiliated and happy to help. 💐
➤ Mission Board:
[Authority +1] - This could either go the way of 1) Mauvier feels unworthy of an invite to the festival, or 2) your muse feels inadequate, and Mauvier offers his support, while still feeling like he falls short himself. I'm partial to the latter! - Taken by Lene
➤ Non-Mission Board:
Holding Hands - Naturally, Mauvier would be the model in this scenario. I LOVE adhering him to someone a little insufferable lmaoo so this would be really fun if your muse is some flavor of disobedient, bristly, short-fused. Y'know, the fun stuff.
Activity Check: June 2026
PASSED!
Skill Points: 21 >>> 22 Allocated: Lance C+ >>> C+(1/2) Classes Accessed: N/A Classes Mastered: Lance Fighter Items/Abilities Acquired: Backup
A Starry Saddle Ride
“Sewing, eh? That’s nice, have you considered joining the academy’s sewing club?” He asks, gazing up at the man. Never would have guessed. Then again, Forde should know better, seeing that…
“I paint.” He says, the words coming to him easily. “Mostly landscapes, though I’ve been trying to branch out recently. I was planning to sketch this view after my nap, though if you want something a bit more vigilant I can paint you a map.”
His laughs trail off as he thinks about it. “Guess my hobby is my work too, now I’ve left the knighthood. Never thought about it that way, guess I’ve been having such a good time I didn’t notice…”
“What do you find so fulfilling about your work, if you don’t mind me asking? Being a knight was good enough for a while but… I don’t think I could do it for the rest of my life.”
For a moment, Mauvier pictures who else might attend an academy sewing club. He'd be unlikely to find other knights; he'd be more likely to be surrounded by young women who would either be offput by his presence, or find him distracting. He would much rather blend in.
Though, he hadn't quite expected Forde to be a painter. He looks at his companion with new eyes, regretting selling him short in his own mind. Painting is a tragic skill for a soldier to possess. To be able to capture and recreate beauty one day, only to shed blood the next -- perhaps even his own.
"I would enjoy seeing what you paint," Mauvier says. "You need not tailor it to my tastes. Let your heart be free."
Next, he ponders Forde's question. "I simply cannot imagine any other path," Mauvier admits, "than to be a knight. If I had no one to protect, I suppose I would be aimless."
He's relaxing, he finds. Perhaps not enough to nap, but enough to find a kindred spirit where he hadn't expected it.
hugh shall not pass
Mauvier & Hugh mini - Goddess Tower - Ethereal Ball 2026
"Oh, am I not good company?" He teases. Or, maybe he's trying to hide that he's actually offended? It's hard to tell, given his smile.
An offer like this is pretty daring, though. If he was smart with it, he could take advantage of this in some way. Hugh's even got a couple ideas floating around in his head, but...nah. He has no reason to be bothering the guy to that degree, and he wasn't that fussed about being unable to climb the tower.
"...a name." Hugh decides on, instead. "You can't be working all the time, right? Wouldn't want to call you by your occupation while you're off the clock."
A name holds important information. Who knows the name, why they know the name. Names can be tied to rumors. Some names even fetch a price for being known to begin with.
Tonight's question isn't a transcation, though.
Hugh just wants to know a little more about the guy, when he's outside of his work.
It seems the wind has gone out of the would-be ruffian's sails pretty quickly. Perhaps he doesn't see Mauvier as someone worth trifling with, or just doesn't find the exchange particularly fun. At any rate, Mauvier is relieved that he won't have to pry this young man from the walls of the tower he's meant to protect.
He only asks for a name. It's a very small ask, and though Mauvier is hardly a man of compromise, he knows when he's getting the better end of a deal. "Mauvier," he answers, with a shallow bow. "Pleased to be acquainted. I would hope that in the future, we can meet on better terms, ah..."
Huh. He doesn't know the lad's name, either. Perhaps the exchange is equal, after all.
"And you?" Mauvier asks.
let your heart be at ease
mission board: infamous / ball prompt.
"Oh!"
Céline can't help her surprised gasp, her hand quickly covering her mouth to stifle such an uncouth gesture. But to hear that Mauvier wished to do something out of his own enjoyment, rather than obligation... it was deeply pleasing to hear.
"Not at all! I believe it's a wonderful thing, that you wish to enjoy yourself." She turns to him then, picnic basket balanced on her arm, as she reaches forward to enclose both of her hands around one of his. "Mauvier, you should enjoy yourself."
Perhaps it sounded odd, coming from her. She still held much hatred in her heart towards Zephia, Griss—towards the Hounds for what they had done to the people of Firene; all the lives taken, and livelihoods uprooted.
Mauvier had been a part of that, as had Veyle.
But they felt regret. They punished themselves, continue to punish themselves, and even now, work tirelessly to atone.
Such service should not be discouraged, or condemned.
"...You mustn't punish yourself forever." Her smile falls a bit, "Remain accountable for the choices you've made, but do not deprive yourself of even the simplest joys of life."
Céline's grip on his hand is gentle, yet firm. Like a flower that blooms defiantly from frostmarked soil. Mauvier finds the courage to meet her eyes, finding the resolve of the verdant fields that bloom for endless miles after a harsh winter.
He searches, in just a flash of a moment, for pain in her gaze. He wonders if those courageous flowers hold the memory of ice in their roots; no matter how many times he's told he's forgiven, the belief does not form in him.
Suddenly, despite Céline's, encouragement, Mauvier feels childish for having even brought up an indulgence as rich as attending the ball. Perhaps every step he takes toward redemption will feel like this, like the ground is giving way beneath his feet. He only fears that when he looks back, there will be nothing left to show for the path he's tread.
Mauvier still feels safe with her. Her words still pierce him deeper than any other similar sentiment to live a little! Come dance with us! Why the long face? We've almost won, come celebrate!
So when they reach the gardens, and an open tea table, he pulls out a chair for Céline. "Your advice is precious to me," Mauvier says. "I suppose I would need to procure a suit, somehow. I'm unaccustomed to such a thing. Do you know a good tailor nearby?"
sainthood made of sand
mauvier & ashe - home sweet holy land
Admittedly he didn’t expect that from a man as serene and chivalrous looking as him.. Then again, not many expect him to have a sordid history either. Everyone had their own skeletons, their own chip on their shoulder.
Mauvier’s look particularly heavy though. Ashe had noticed the man’s hesitation before, but at first decided not to comment too much on it. He seemed to have trouble with handling the peaches, and briefly the boy wondered if he should offer to switch.
This short explanation gave a bit more context, though. And Ashe genuinely could empathize. After all, he’s made his own share of mistakes too. It’s easy to get stuck in that feeling of unworthiness in times like those.
“I can’t claim to know the thoughts of a divine dragon, but..” Briefly putting down the spatula on the table, he turns to look at the man with a sympathizing smile. “The way the monks spoke of her, she sounded like a very kind and graceful lady.” Definitely not the vengeful type. Or at least that’s not the vibe Ashe got from the stories.
“I don’t know what you were like before, but to me you’ve been nothing but helpful and kind! Your assistance really made my day.” He doesn’t know how deep this lies within the knight, but he hopes a kind word will at least soothe his worries a little bit.
Ashe's words begin to set Mauvier's heart at ease, although his task still lay before him. "Thank you, Ashe. All I can do to remedy the past is atone in the here and now. I am more than glad to be of use."
That round, perfect peach still sits before him like a sacrificial lamb. Mauvier has cut down countless men both in his days as a Hound and as an ally of the Divine, and yet chopping a fruit still gives him pause.
He endeavors anyway, for the sake of this young, aspiring knight. Mauvier wields the knife, grimacing as the blade pierces the peach's flesh. Once the fruit is severed in twain, a strange, morbid relief overtakes Mauvier. Perhaps he just needed to make the first cut.
Mauvier sets to cutting up the rest of the peach in earnest, soon moving on to a second one. He sets the pits aside, wondering if they could be replanted. If that might help him grow closer to absolution.
colonel mustard with the candlestick
Mauvier & Miriel - Mission Board: Infamous - [Sword +1]
The death of Viscount Burgundy was quite the unfortunate event, for innumerable reasons; most of which was the means by which everyone surrounding was so… ignorant as to fervently pin the blame upon Miriel without a moment of hesitation.
Of course, things did not look good for her; being the last one to bear witness to the victim typically was a sign of guilt. The issue was, was such a belief had been… elementary. It was easy to believe that the last person close by to the victim was, in fact, the perpetrator themselves. Miriel was aware of that fact, and the fact that everyone seemed to believe it as possible without further questioning only served to annoy her further. Are these people stupid? Or just willfully ignorant?
Yet when encountered by one who seemed to teeter on the edge of belief and disregard… Miriel couldn’t help but sigh and offer devil’s advocate. “Mauvier…” she opens, her tone as flat as it always was despite the precarious situation, “while I hold appreciation for your hesitation, must you so immediately draw up a possibility where it wasn’t me?” After all, just as there was no conclusive proof that Miriel had been the perpetrator, there was also no conclusive proof that it wasn’t her. “For all you know, my explanation of events could be mere fabrication as my means of escape.” Though it wouldn’t be; Mauvier had no way to know that.
So she sighs; he asked, so it would be idiotic for Miriel to not cooperate. “As you have already implied; I was to observe the Viscount’s condition over the prior night. The night itself was rather humdrum, murder notwithstanding. Prior to the Viscount’s demise, I had informed him of my intention to utilize the facilities, for my vesica urinaria had been far overwhelmed. Far too much water in my system, I presume. In the moments between my meandering to the facilities, and my return, it would appear as though the culprit sought to manipulate the blindspot. Thus, the Viscount was found to have perished.”
Miriel clears her throat, realizing that after such a lengthy explanation, more water could be of use. “But, as I have said; such an explanation could be merely a falsehood. You should try to ascertain falsities in my tale.”
Mauvier had hoped that his calm demeanor might lower Miriel's hackles and help her grow comfortable with him, but she seems to be testing him. Why would she goad him like this, asking him to be wary of ruling her out? He wants to be the voice of mercy, yet her behavior feels like a slap in the face.
Miriel's story holds both too little and too much information. Mauvier does not wish to hear about the status of her vesica urinaria; at some point, all mortal men must use the lavatory.
"That would make the window of opportunity very small, indeed," says Mauvier, pointedly not commenting on Miriel's other strange asides. "A couple of minutes, perhaps? Did the Viscount have any enemies, Miriel, that might be hawkishly watching for any opportunity to slip into the residence, murder him with his own weapon, and leave no trace?"
The possibility that she's lying remains unspoken. Mauvier does not want to believe it, least of all because it would mean his own judgment is faulty. But her answer might give him a broader scope of the Church, and of Fodlan in general: what was the Viscount being protected from?
let your heart be at ease
mission board: infamous / ball prompt.
She hums a little giggle, gesturing for him to go ahead. "Please, lead the way, my friend."
Their walk is a quaint one, the sun bright and the plants well-tended, even if some of her enjoyment was dampened by the brisk chill in the air. Firene's winters were not nearly as merciless as those in Brodia and Elusia, and so Céline was unaccustomed to the cold of the mountains. It was a wonder so many people still had the energy to excitedly mill about, wrapped up in their frenzy towards the upcoming ball.
"It's been quite a while since we've seen one another. Firene's reconstruction efforts have kept me and my brother terribly busy, and I imagine your work with Lady Veyle has, as well—she has proven herself to be quite the altruistic soul, after all."
Another giggle, "I do hope time has treated you kindly, though. You certainly look good."
At that moment, a girl juggling boxes of decorations suddenly cuts across them with a hastily given apology, and Céline can only hum as she turns to Mauvier. "The monastery has been quite animated lately. I imagine you'll also be attending the ball with your lady?"
Mauvier suddenly feels overdressed, not having had a chance to slip out of his armor. Granted, he rarely walks the monastery grounds without it, even off duty. But perhaps if he had his sweater, he could offer it to Princess Céline, who shivers in the slight breeze. The cold hasn't phased Mauvier for a long time, armor or no, but the Princess probably remains unaccustomed to any sort of chill, much like the flowers of her kingdom.
"Lady Veyle is doing well," Mauvier answers. "And...I am, as well. I'm unsure what her plans are for the ball, but I have considered going myself, this year. Perhaps even for the festivities, and not as a knight."
His voice carries as if in a confessional; Princess Céline is perhaps one of only a handful of people he could ever tell such a thing. She's unlikely to see his desire for downtime as a weakness, even if he still struggles to believe it himself.
He's struck by a pang of guilt, watching the young lady struggle with her boxes. He wishes to rush ahead and carry them for her, but he would abandon Princess Céline in the process. If only there were two of him.
"I plan to help with the setup and takedown, of course," Mauvier adds a bit hastily. "But...is that so foolish of me, Princess Céline? To wish to dance?"
pink sand and primrose { mauvier & nanna
※ Ethereal Ball: Week 1 — (cont.)
The dance slowed naturally, settling into an easier rhythm in graceful loops. Nanna's smile softened.
The lanternlight caught against the orchids resting upon his brow, and for a moment she found herself oddly pleased by the sight. The crown had been made from familiar flowers, from hands taught by mothers and sisters and friends over many years. Somehow, it looked as though it belonged there.
"I am glad I found you tonight. The last we spoke, our circumstances were different." She had collapsed in the sand out there, but only after watching Sir Mauvier carry out duty like self-flagellation. The admission came simply.Her hands remained lightly clasped in his as the music drifted around them.
"When I first heard about these moving pictures, I thought they were curious. Then I thought they were a little frightening." A quiet laugh escaped her. "Imagine—a item that remembers for you."
Her gaze drifted briefly toward the attendant preparing the artifex.
"But then I realized there are people I care for whose voices I can recall perfectly, yet whose movements have already begun to blur at the edges." A pause. "The way they turned their head when they laughed. The way they stood when they were thinking."
Slowly, she looked back up at him. "My mother was one such person. She had left in the same desert that I fell in. But she has returned and…" She shook her head, not continuing.
"And I thought... if I could preserve even a small piece of the people precious to me, perhaps I should."
The words hung between them, warm and unembarrassed.
"So yes," she said, laughter returning gently to her voice, "I did look for you specifically."
A small squeeze of his hands.
"I thought it would be nice to remember this one."
Again, Princess Nanna moves him, as easily as her body sways. He's thought about it himself, the curiosity of a captured moment. He thinks about the way old faces and voices have begun to lose their vibrance every time he recalls them, like a book whose pages continually yellow, its spine ever closer to breaking.
Mauvier thinks of his own mother, her lovely face and her laugh. His father's strong brow, the indomitable silhouette of him against the countryside sun. If only he could have kept a single scrap of proof that they existed.
He's pulled back into the moment, hearing that Princess Nanna had wanted to dance with him, of all people. That she had wished to share such a soft part of her heart, even as Mauvier is not worthy to hold it. He endeavors to be, one day.
"Yes," he breathes, almost helpless as the music moves him. He stops thinking about the unwieldiness of his body on the dance floor, or how much taller her stands than Nanna. He slips into the moment, into the fabric of time, like the ink preserving their dance onto paper. "I will remember this night for a very long time, Princess Nanna."
Housekeeping 🧹
According to my records (which are kept manually), the threads listed below are the current threads in Mauvier's rotation. Please let me know if your thread is missing, if my turn order is wrong, or if you would like to drop or discuss a thread.
My Turn:
Starter for Ninian [Riding/Flying +1]
Partner's Turn:
pink sand and primrose - Nanna
hugh shall not pass - Hugh
pop makes the world go round - Alcryst
man vs. machine - Linhardt
colonel mustard with the candlestick - Miriel
let your heart be at ease - Céline
sainthood made of sand - Ashe
dances with the daffodils - Naesala
waiting for what will never come - Serra
go to miletos, said no one ever (until now) - Ayra
where the drifts get deeper - Dimitri
A Whisper of Night - Fiora
A Starry Saddle Ride - Forde
Once Upon a Dream - Marni
those dang knightisms — mauvier & veyle
her expression brightens upon seeing him finally smile— not in any manner that is clearly meant to placate her but in a manner that makes her think she might have finally gotten to the core of his troubles and helped him with them.
he’d always been so dedicated to her no matter what— so much so that she wonders if he only thinks about spending his time here as long as its with her. “also. uhm.” she second guesses herself, her fingers pressed together nervously. “i’m not alone either anymore. i want you to be happy even when you’re not with me.” she looks up at him, watching carefully for his reaction. “so i mean… you should invite the knights you work with here sometimes too. i bet they would be happy to share a meal with you.”
Mauvier knows this deeply, that Lady Veyle is no longer alone - he is not the only one dedicated to her well-being, and for that, he is grateful. Somehow, he hadn't connected that to meaning he can come to the dining hall with others once in a while. With the other knights, even.
He has certainly felt happiness with others; a similar protective drive, sure, but on top of that, he has felt the simple enjoyment of another's company. Perhaps it's best to keep searching for that feeling, and naming it when it arises.
Mauvier's face grows distant, before he realizes Lady Veyle is watching him. He softens, nodding at her. "Thank you, Lady Veyle," he says. "I will carry that sentiment with me. I would be happy to share more meals with you here in the future, and with others, as well."
It's been an eventful afternoon to say the least, and his throat still burns, but his little liege has taught him a lot, per usual. He stands, gathering their empty bowls. "Where are you headed next, my Lady? If you wish, I can accompany you. Not as an escort, but as a friend."
end.
