She was patient, in her old age. She knew this, for she'd worked very hard to cultivate it. After the disaster with… with her first student, she'd forced herself, so that she'd never suffer like that again. Yes, she was patient. But, she also had limits. And she'd hit them.
"Maker, it's like talking to a child!" she grumbled. She hadn't really expected this behavior from Serenity. Agrona, perhaps. Alistair, yes. But not Serenity. Not the calm warrior with ties to the nobility who was just a little too stubborn and noble for her own good sometimes. She knew that first hand, seeing the damage Serenity had suffered and still insisted on fighting through.
"It's just a simple question, Wynne," Serenity laughed. The sound echoed through the silent halls of Redcliffe Castle. "Does the story have griffons in it?" She'd been trying to tell Serenity a story about the Wardens. Not even a story, more of a history lecture. But Serenity was utterly fixated on the mythical mounts of the Wardens of old.
"Yes, there are griffons," she replies with exasperation. This was not exactly how she'd intended this conversation to go. Then again, she'd started the conversation because she was nervous (worried) about Connor. She sent another silent prayer to the Maker and Andraste, hoping that the trio of rogues could make it to the Tower and back before the demon gained the courage to strike again. "Honestly, why are you so obsessed with them?"
The smile on Serenity's face faltered, though it quickly returned. No, not returned. Replaced. The 'new' smile was a shadow compared to before. "My nephew liked them," she explained. "So, I want to hear about them."
'Liked'. Her nephew 'liked'. He was dead, then? A victim of the Blight? "You have a nephew?"
"Had." The word is flat. "He was killed with the rest of my family. Before Ostagar."
She shuddered at the name. Ostagar. She'd never forget it, not even when she was at the Maker's side. "I'm sorry. Was it the darkspawn?"
"No, it was Howe." Howe? Arl Howe? But why…?
Everything clicked as she realized the answer to her own question. "Serenity… are you a Cousland?"
"Probably the last one," Serenity answered. The words were steady, but her hands were not. To try and hide it, she forced a smile. "So, story?"
Instead, she reached out to hug the grieving lady. "In a moment," she said. "For now, you seem to need a hug, more than a story of days gone by."
"But I like history."
"Like I said, in a moment." She knows it's the right decision when Serenity relaxes into the hug. No tears shed, but she knew the rumors of Serenity Cousland. Eventually, she'd drop the mask and cry, but not while on duty. Duty was important to the Couslands.
Besides, she'd probably prefer to cry on Alistair's shoulder. As much as she was certain the pairing wasn't going to be a good idea… well, even she could admit something was adorable. Too adorable, actually. And she was supposed to be knitting cats on socks and the like.
Author's note: …Where did this come from? The hell? Um, right. Wynne and Serenity, a human noble Warden. Might generate more oneshots like this, to fill in character relationships I didn't get to in the Warden's Tale. Right, then. For those who've read the tale, this is set after liberating Castle Redcliffe, but before Agrona, Zevran, and Leliana return from the Tower.