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[Johnny Pothead]

I do not own Dragon Age

       My Cousland was originally named Marcus, but it sounded to Latin for me, so I renamed Marcel which is French for "young warrior." So if you see a Marcus it's Marcel i haven't edited this yet so there will be some errrors. Anyway enjoy.


Marcel Cousland, the the Hero of Fereldan turned Prince. He would much prefered to be King, but he would settle for Prince as long as he was close to the throne. Marcel was always a man to make best of the situation he was in, if he was going to be a Prince then he would do it for the better of his loved ones. He liked Anora, but their relationship would be nothing more then political. She was to shifty for him, and the fact that she loved power more then any person, really didn’t help his opinion of her.   Both Anora and Marcel had their secrets, Marcel was trying to keep his mistress and lover, Leliana a secret. Not that he was worried about Anora’s reputation but more of Nobles using the fact Leliana was an Orlesian against him. Marcel had a unique interest in Orlesian culture, that made him weary among some nobles, although the generation that fought alongside Marcel’s father was dying out and the younger nobles seemed more tolerant of Orlais . 
 
                “My Lord your wife waits.” Informed Marcel’s second Gerald, knocking at the door. “Gerald, go wait with the wagon, Anora can wait a few minutes!” Marcel grumpingly snapped. He was always grumpy in the mornings, especially when being suddenly awaken after a pleasurable night. He rolled over, rubbed his eyes and glanced over at his lover, Leliana. She was still fast asleep, like she usually during their nights together. Marcel  gently put his right arm around her and kissed her on the forehead. 
“Hey you.” Leliana smiled as she slowly woke up.
“Hey” Marcus replied returned the smile.
“Did you sleep well?” Leliana asked as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Yes, I’ve just been watching you sleep.” Marcel joked as he started to tease, giving her a peck on the lips.
“Oh.” Leliana giggled.
“Do you know your eyelids flutter when you dream and you have such pretty eyelashes.”   Marcus chuckled as he brushed a strand of Leliana’s hair away from her eyes.
“Flatterer.” Leliana coyly smiled at him.
“But I need to get up, the royal life awaits.” Marcus started to groan as he sat up on the side of the bed.
“Fereldan doesn’t need its handsome Prince right this second…………………” Leliana smirked as she got up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
“Well, my dear love what an interesting offer, but I’ll have to take a rain check on that.”  
“Of course, of course…………… so important you are.” Leliana sighed giving him a gentle kiss on the neck.
“Now if I can only remember where my pants are?” Marcus gave a questioning look to Leliana.
“I wonder where my dress is?” Leliana cooed.
 
 
Highever Courtyard
 
The past few weeks Marcus had been staying in Highever with his brother Fergus . Marcus had told Anora it was family business dealing with his Grandfathers research, but Anora was smarter then Marcus thought, she knew he planned on meeting Leliana there.
“Good day, My Lord.” Gerald greeted Marcel as he reached the gates of Castle Cousland. Marcus took Gerald as his second a year ago after a trip to Redcliffe. Teagon had told Marcel of how his parents were killed in a Darkspawn raid and agreed to take him under his wing.  
“How’s the arm, Gerald.” Marcel looked at Gerald trying to spark up a conversation.
“It’s fine, thanks for asking, My Lord.” Gerald replied stretching his arm. He had hurt it during Martial practice the day before.
“Where’s Anora, I thought she……………..” Marcus hesitantly started to ask, until he heard a yell from around the corner.
“Fergus ,where is my husband!” Anora demanded an answer from Fergus.
“My Queen, my brother is just……..” Fergus calmly tried to answer.
“Just on his way.” Marcel interrupted.
Anora’s tone went from angry to relieved. 
“Finally, you arrive……………….. late again.” Anora sighed.
“You see there was this man…………………..” Marcel spat out some incoherent rubberish;
“I don’t need your excuses Marcel, just try to act alittle more husbandly.”
“Husbandly? You might not know it, but I am a dashing example of a charming husband.” Marcus teaslingly told Anora.  
“Right….” Anora chuckled. Marcel always tried to ease tension between him and Anora  with humor. It worked most of the time in Marcel’s favor, but Anora was no fool.