Breaking the Divide - Cullen X Reader

11

Kaitlyn unrolled the paper Cullen had given her to read it over again. Marcus. Anthony. Her brothers. She couldn't stop her grin. They wanted to meet her. She pressed the scroll to her chest, a giggle escaping her as she all but skipped across the battlements, her anger at the Commander shoved aside for another time.

"Sweets!"

She glanced towards the sound to find Varric waving at her near the courtyard's portcullis. A pair of horses stood behind him, their hooves shifting across the cobblestones as their riders—hidden beneath mud-caked cloaks—relieved the mounts from their packs. A large, brown Mabari sat between the horses, tail wagging incessantly.

Kaitlyn tucked the note away and came down to Varric. Her side twinged when her foot landed too heavily on the stone and she fought the urge to press her hand against the ache. "Friends of yours, Varric?"

"You could say that." He glanced over each shoulder before using his head to point towards the miniscule store room beside the main gate. She frowned but followed behind him. The two strangers—one several inches taller than the other—kept their faces hidden.

"Sorry about the cloak and daggers, Sweets," he said once the four of them were inside and the door shut behind them. "I'm never sure how people are going to react."

"React to what?"

"Me." One of the figures—a woman, going by her voice—brought her hands up and pulled the hood away. Her features were relatively plain: brown eyes, brown hair, skin that was neither pale nor tan. She was tall—around Kaitlyn's own height—and bore herself with a deep and relaxed confidence. Her nose was thin and slightly crooked to one side much in the same way Varric's was. The most striking thing about her was a scar that started beneath the left side of her jaw and continued down her neck.

Kaitlyn's mouth went dry. They'd never met in person before but Kaitlyn knew this woman from Varric's description. This was the Champion of Kirkwall, mage and savior to many. This was Clara Hawke.

Clara smirked and her head tilted to one side. "Or us, I suppose. I'm certainly not as eye-catching as you are."

Kaitlyn turned to her companion who had also removed their hood.

Fenris' green eyes darted about the corners of the room before finally landing on Kaitlyn's face. He had three white dots in the center of his forehead and she wondered vaguely if the tattoos were new or if Varric had simply left them out in his description. His white hair, brushed away from his face, was tied in a secure bun at the base of his neck. His features were a series of severe, angular lines with long, sloping cheeks and lips grimly pressed together.

"I," Kaitlyn started, words failing her. Hawke. Hawke and Fenris. Here. Something between a giggle and a scream bubbled up in her chest. She held it tight within her throat and swallowed it down, letting her cheeks warm instead. "I, uh, hello."

Varric snickered. "Hawke, meet Sweets. Sweets, Hawke."

"'Sweets' is it?" Clara asked with a smile. "I'm envious. Varric still refuses to give me a nickname no matter how much I ask for one."

"You're Hawke. Wouldn't feel right to call you anything else."

"Mmhmm." She sent him a gentle glare before turning back to Kaitlyn. "Varric tells me you're up against Corypheus—dropped half a mountain on the bastard single-handedly."

"I," Kaitlyn stuttered again. Hawke. The Hawke. "Yes. Th-that's right."

Clara laughed. "Such a modest reply. Do you heal the sick and feed the hungry in your spare time too?"