I know I haven't updated any of my CS fics, but that will change once the show returns/I have time! I have been taking a break from the OUAT fandom to prepare for Dragon Age: Inquisition, and thus I have immersed myself in the DA Fandom and started a new blog (which has gotten over 1700 followers since mid-June WOW)! So here is a multi-chapter fic I just started for my CouslandOC and Alistair! Enjoy all you Queen-Couslanders!

Cassandra gazed out the carriage door with an expression of pure and utter dread. Fergus couldn't keep from snickering. She lifted her head and glared at him with her trademark frown.

"What?" she demanded.

"It's just so strange to see you in such a dour mood. Normally you love trips to Denerim," he explained with an innocent shrug.

Cassandra sighed and pressed her cheek against the cold glass pane, her breath leaving trace clouds of fog. "Yes, but I was never expected to seduce a prince when I got there."

Her mother, Eleanor Cousland, curled her lip. "Come now, darling, you know it isn't like that."

Cassandra lifted an eyebrow. "Isn't it?"

"Bryce, can't you explain this to your daughter?"

Bryce Cousland let out a hearty laugh. "Ever the free spirit, eh?" Fergus smiled and Cassandra proceeded to roll her eyes. Her father let out a long breath and regained his serious composure. "It is a great honor to court the future king. You aren't being forced to marry him, but to turn down such an offer would be an insult unless there was good reason. 'Wanting to marry for love' is, unfortunately, not a good reason in their eyes."

Cassandra continued frowning. "I still don't understand. Why is it that wanting love is such an unreasonable thing? Is it not desirable?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

It's inconvenient. It's nothing but a selfish wish. Love doesn't get you power or riches or even just a roof above your head. Calculating decisions and marking up a decent spouse does.

Fergus leaned forward. "I found love," he pointed out. His marriage with Oriana had been an arrangement to pour wealth into the Cousland coffers and secure a place for her among Ferelden nobility.

"You were lucky," Cassandra muttered. "From what I hear, Cailan isn't a man I could ever grow to love." He's a fool, she thought, knowing better than to say so with her parents in the carriage.

Bryce shook his head. "You'd be best not to repeat that in front of him, pup."

Eleanor placed a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You never know, darling. You might be surprised."

Cassandra didn't respond, she just watched quietly as the gates to Denerim opened and their carriage rolled inside.

Waiting for them by the front gates of the palace was Arl Howe. Beside him was his wife and his daughter, Delilah. Cassandra allowed herself a silent prayer to the Maker that Thomas wasn't visiting with them. The last thing she needed was her parents discussing yet another potential marriage candidate. Thomas was their favorite.

"Rendon!" Bryce called happily as he emerged from the carriage. He approached his old friend and the two men embraced.

"Bryce Cousland... it's been far too long," Howe cried ecstatically. His daughter approached the two hesitantly. Howe gave her a warm smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Bryce, Eleanor. I'm sure you both remember my daughter, Delilah."

"I remember her!" Eleanor said as she stepped down from the carriage. "And what a fine young lady she's grown to be!"

Delilah ducked her head shyly.

Howe frowned but immediately forced a smile. "She's just nervous. She's here to court Cailan, which is, I assume, what your Cassandra is here for as well?"

Bryce nodded. "Much to her malcontent, unfortunately. But perhaps she'll charm the prince with her resilience as she did us. Give Delilah a run for her money, eh?" he joked, looking over at his daughter who was trailing behind them, her shoulders hunched.

In the distance, the courtyard was filled with other young women arriving to court the king. Trumpets sounded and the women departed from their families and scurried over towards the main entrance, chattering excitedly.

All of them so eager to please some over-appreciated man, Cassandra thought with a scowl. She hid her displeasure immediately, though, avoiding her father's gaze.

"Well, looks like you two must be off," Bryce announced, clapping his hands together. "Cassandra, we'll all be around the markets today so we'll see you come suppertime, yes?"

Cassandra just nodded. Suddenly she felt nervous. Because as much as she had convinced herself she didn't care about this whole big thing, she felt as if she owed it to her family to win Cailan's heart. Which is ridiculous, she reminded herself with a scoff.

"Then let's be off!" he said to the rest of his family. He faced his daughter and gave her a nod. "We'll see you later tonight, pup."

Howe and his wife left with the other Couslands, and moments later Cassandra was alone with Delilah. They both began quietly shuffling towards the crowd of other women, neither of them interested in talking.

Cassandra knew Delilah wasn't fond of her family. The Couslands had always been much more fortunate than the Howes.

One time during a ball in Highever a few years back, Nathaniel Howe had revealed to Cassandra that Delilah thought the Couslands were all spoiled and undeserving of their riches (a view Cassandra couldn't help but think Delilah had inherited from her father). That left a considerable amount of tension between them in present time.

Cassandra made an attempt. "So... are you nervous at all?"

The attempt wasn't successful. Delilah ignored her and instead began walking at a quicker pace, soon leaving the youngest Cousland behind her.

"A lot of manners in that one," Cassandra snorted, deciding to forget about her.

From not too far off, the trumpets sounded again, the girls increasing their paces and getting into neat orderly lines. Cassandra followed suit and found herself sandwiched between two young girls, blonde and pale-skinned. One of them was sniffling without pause, and the other was tending to her hair, which was impeccably braided- hardly a strand out of place.

Time passed slowly and the one girl's sniffling continued throughout the entirety of their wait. Finally, the girl with the braids snapped, whirling around to face the sniffler.

"Would you please plug your nose with something!" she demanded, jabbing a frustrated finger at the other woman.

"O'I'm so sorry, madam- I can't really 'elp that I'm sick!" the other girl snapped. Her permanent scowl seemed to intensify, and her thick yet nasally voice reflected the congestion of her nose.

Braid-girl's lips curled down as she stared daggers. "I'll have you know that I am Loghain Mac Tir's only child, Anora, and I could have you dragged away for so much as looking at me inappropriately."

"Ye don't seem like th' type. Ye got that look about ye like yer always schemin' but real quiet-like. I know that look, messere, seein' as I've been in this crowd o' kings 'nd lords fer quite some time. Ye won't do nothin'!" the sniffler retorted with a sort of smug look, as if she'd already dealt the final blow of the argument.

Anora made a 'hm' sound and folded her arms, face beginning to turn a bright pink. "It wouldn't take much effort to convince some guards that you, being your size with that much strength, were trying to harm me, a small and frail young woman with no means to defend herself! After all, who knows what some of these crazy women would do to get to Cailan!" She was smirking.

"Yer not foolin' anyone with that talk! Just because ye can doesn't mean ya will, so what've I got ta fear from ye? Or any guard you happen to call upon fer that matter! I am Ser Nancine! I could take ya and yer father in a fight if I wanted to! Ya 'ouldn't be so haughty if yer father's head rolled across the floor and stopped right by yer feet!"

"You wouldn't get the chance to do such a thing!" Anora was clearly disturbed but acted as if being annoyed by things was beyond her.

"Ya want ta bet? I could challenge yer father, easy as this!" Nancine snapped her fingers with arms outstretched in front of Cassandra so they were right in Anora's face.

Cassandra was getting aggravated.

"My father has been fighting since before you even came into this world, and you act as if you could possibly defeat him!" Anora started to get riled and her body twisted so she was facing Nancine with all of it.

The sniffling knight grinned and continued, "Oh but ain't that just th' truth of it! Yer father's old and weak. He 'asn't fought a battle in years! 'E's gettin' weak and pudgy, where o'I'm as fit as they come!"

The back-and-forth encounter continued for a few more minutes before Cassandra had had her fill. "Enough, you two!" Nancine and Anora stopped and stared at the Cousland. "You two have been shouting about Maker knows what and I've had it. If I have to wait in this Maker-forsaken line for another minute with the two of you bickering, I might just feel the need to break somebody's neck. So how's about you all just SHUT. U-"

A heavy boot clanking against the brick beside them interrupted. Nancine, Anora, and Cassandra all looked up at the person before them. "What in Andraste's name is going on here?" Prince Cailan Theirin demanded.

Nancine and Anora immediately bowed their heads, Cassandra watching them do so with an unimpressed expression.

Nancine started to explain, "Your lordship, we 'ere just 'aving a- erm-"

"A debate, your highness!" Anora finished for her. "We were just having a very... spirited debate!"

Cailan frowned and folded his arms across his chest, besides him his personal guard were watching, also unamused. "Spirited indeed, seeing as how I could hear you all the way from the courtyard." He looked over and seemed to notice Cassandra for the first time. "And you," he called out, "why don't you bow your head to me like these ladies?" His tone wasn't grim but rather light, as if he were legitamately curious. Perhaps she had a condition that did not allow her to, perhaps she didn't know who he was. These seemed to be the things he was asking when he wondered why she refused to bow.

Cassandra's eyes widened, and she found herself instinctively avoiding his gaze, instead looking around at all the other women who were watching the scene with keen interest.

"Well...?" Cailan pressed, tapping his fingers impatiently. He was a giddy person, never wanting to be in one place for too long. Always another adventure on the horizon, always another heroic task to complete. He couldn't focus on just one thing for an extended amount of time.

She took a deep breath and replied, "Because I see no reason why I should."

Gasps and murmurs erupted from the rows of women. Even Nancine and Anora inhaled sharply.

Cailan's face turned a deep crimson. "Settle down, everyone!" he cried, instructing his guards to calm the crowd.

Cailan eyed Cassandra, his expression meant to be unreadable, but to Cassandra's politically experienced eye clearly showed he felt threatened and yet intrigued. "Send these three to the main chamber. I'll deal with them and their spat later," he announced dismissively, moving on to check each of the women out and send those he found unattractive or those who had unseemly personalities home, as that was how the function worked.

Guards swarmed Anora, Nancine, and Cassandra, all three of them aggravated.

"I didn't even have anything to do with the argument!" Cassandra grumbled, furrowing her brow.

Nancine snorted. "Well you 'oughtn've been so stubborn to the prince. Maybe if ye'd bowed yer 'ead ya 'ouldn't be in this mess."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Cassandra mumbled in reply, letting the guards guide her.

It felt like forever before Cailan entered the main chamber with his entourage of guards.

While they'd been waiting, Anora and Nancine decided to drop their old argument, instead finding a common enemy in Cassandra, who they seemed to blame for getting them caught. The whole time the two of them had crossed their arms and fumed in silence, glaring at Cassandra like she'd just forced them to lick her boots in public.

It didn't really matter to her though, she wasn't there to make buddy-buddy with all of the uppity noblewomen, despite knowing that her family would encourage it since friendships were always useful when one needed a favor.

Cassandra wouldn't need any of those favors. Fergus was the one who would inherit the terynir, not her. She planned to simply adventure, and there's hardly a use for political allies when one is trying to chop off the head of a darkspawn.

Nonetheless, she knew her parents would frown upon the fact that she'd already made enemies with two powerful and (formerly) potential allies of Highever. In fact, maybe even three with the way Cailan seemed to stare at her as he crossed the room.

Cassandra let out a long sigh and slumped in her seat, bracing herself for the onslaught of politcal jib-jab that was meant to be a scolding.

She was pleasantly surprised, however, to hear Cailan say, in a rather affable tone, "I've decided to overlook the behavior of all three of you and have assigned you rooms for your stay. Supper with the families of those who are still here will be tonight in the main dining hall at sunset." He made a small gesture and two of the guards stepped forward, holding in front of them three separate keys with some small words and numbers. "These are for your rooms and should you need assistance finding them there will be attendents in every hall to help you."

Cassandra was hesitant to take her key where Nancine and Anora practically snatched them out of the guards' hands.

"I-I don't underst-" Cassandra's would-be question was interrupted by a slight elbow to the side by Anora.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," she muttered just quietly enough for her to hear.

Cassandra closed her mouth and stared at the floor. "Nevermind," she said quietly. To her this didn't feel like a gift.

Cailan nodded at the women and smiled before turning on his heel and leaving. As soon as he'd left, Nancine and Anora wandered off together to find their rooms.

"I know my way around the Palace quite well since my father sometimes took me with while on important business. I could help you find your room," Cassandra heard Anora say to Nancine as the two of them walked away.

"Well that sounds fine to me. Glad to have ye around, Madam Mac Tir."

"Hah! That's cute."

Cassandra decided it did not matter to her when she got to her corridor so long as she didn't have to follow behind the two girls that seemed determined to alienate her. She began to move in the opposite direction, taking in the hugeness of the palace she would be staying at.

The doorways to the different halls and rooms were tall and adorned with painted brick arches. What the many windows couldn't keep lit with natural daylight was illuminated by torches hanging from shiny metal cones. Fancy oriental carpets which had likely been imported from Antiva (as her father had one in his room that looked just like them) lined every corridor, and paintings of Ferelden scenery hung on the bare spaces of the wall.

The halls were all quite busy. Servants, nobles, and other guests of the castle moved about. All of the guests and nobles seemed unimpressed by the grandeur of the palace, as if passing through it were routine and they were bored.

Cassandra had always loved to watch the ridiculously dressed nobles make visits to Highever whenever her father held an event. Noblemen wore colorful suits that never seemed to match. They sometimes wore frills around their necks that bounced when they moved, which always made Cassandra giggle.

Many of the noblemens' wives wore over the top Orlesian gowns with gigantic frilly hats and shoes sprinkled with what looked like feathers and glitter. She hardly saw the appeal in these outfits besides the comedic effect they had on the locals. They were too big, too showy, and not to mention hard to move in. How was she supposed to fight off an assassin if they ever came after her while wearing the gown? That is, if the gown didn't kill her itself. They were fit especially tight, and Cassandra wondered if the women wearing them could even breathe!

The nobles at the Royal Palace were no different- save for a little more zany. Women passed her by wearing gowns that stretched the entire length of a hallway, forcing several servants to hold them as their mistress walked. One particular woman was dressed in a relatively simple Ferelden-style dress, but had with her a gargantuan fan decorated with feathers and ceramic stars that she waved in front of her face furiously. "Oh! It iz so dusty in here!" she exclaimed in a thick Orlesian accent. "Deez Fereldens live like dogs!" That made Cassandra laugh.

When she had enough of roaming the palace, she discerned that it was nearly sundown and she should find her room so she could freshen up before supper. She pulled the key out of her pocket and examined the small wood carving hanging on the same metal ring. The words were faded, but the number was clear. Something about a Royal - Wing Room # 6.

She walked and walked until she stumbled upon a sign. She was quick to read and took off as soon as she saw the word 'Royal'. Room 6 was close, and she was surprised to find the door unlocked. She pushed open the door and took in the room.

It was messy.

Normally she wouldn't care, after all, her own room was messy back home, but these were not her clothes strewn across the bed and floor.

"Well I cannot lie," she muttered to herself as she picked up the clothes and peered at the un-made bed, "I was expecting cleaner accommodations at the Royal Palace."

"I know it's a little chaotic. I've been... busy?" Cassandra spun around. Standing in the doorway was a man she'd never seen before. He had short, spiky blond hair and was wearing a plain suit. He laughed a little then sighed. "Oh who am I fooling? I'm just too lazy."

Cassandra was still holding the pants she'd picked up off the floor, her jaw slack and a scratchy 'uhh' sound coming from her. "Who-"

The man laughed again and casually plodded into the room, making his way to the dresser and pulling out fancy-looking outfits. "Of course, how could I forget to introduce myself." He paused and turned to face Cassandra. "I am Prince Alistair Theirin, second in line for the throne, and these-" he gestured at the room, "are my chambers. Speaking of which, why do you happen to be in them?"

He asked the question so plainly Cassandra had a hard time believing he was actually the Prince and she had actually walked right into his bedroom.

"Uhm- I'm Cassandra... I'm supposed to be here for the Cailain... uh.. thing." The answer came out as a squeak. I just keep making more and more mistakes, she thought furiously. I invaded the Prince's room!

Alistair's lips tugged upwards and he made an amused-sounding humming noise. "Well I'm afraid you're in the wrong wing of the castle. Royal Guests are across the courtyard from here. This area is where the Royal Family stays."

Cassandra wanted to smack herself in the face. Of course she had to stop reading after 'Royal'! She'd been in such a rush to- Augh, nevermind, it wasn't worth dwelling on.

She quickly put the pants back where she found them on the floor and scurried towards the hall. "I am so so sorry," she apologized, her voice high-pitched and panicky.

He followed her out into the hall. "Oh no, it's- it's fine...!" He spoke like he wanted her to stop moving away, but when she did and turned to look at him, he paused. "It's alright... Cassandra, I'm fine."

Cassandra cleared her throat and ducked away from his sight. "Well then, I'm glad. I'll just be off..."

He called after her, "Do you need any help getting there? I could walk with you-"

"Nono! I'll be okay!" she replied without looking over her shoulder. Maker was she embarrassed.

Alistair just nodded and leaned against his door panel. "Yeah... alright then. You'll be okay." Then he thought for a moment, shook his head, and went back into his room.