The First Time: Two Weeks After Meeting Hawke

Varric was trying very hard not to laugh at the incredulous look on Namia Hawke's face. He'd won the fifth hand in a row of Wicked Grace and Hawke's paltry pile of coins was nearly gone. "Something on your mind, Hawke?"

She pointed a queen at him, the card's worn edge smeared with dirt. He eyed it suspiciously as she waved it in his face. "Cheater."

"Madam, I protest. What makes you think I'd do such an underhanded -"

"Cheater."

"Lowbrow…"

"Liar, and a cheater."

"Run of the mill…"

"Liar, cheater, swindler." The card waving became more emphatic, but her flinty eyes were softening.

Varric put his cards down and his hands up. "Well, you got me there. Though you might add dashing merchant prince to that list."

Hawke flicked her card at his face and he ducked, chuckling. "All right, dashing merchant prince who is a big liar and a cheater and a swindler to boot...show me."

Varric couldn't stop the grin on his face. "Show you what? That's a pretty loaded request, Hawke."

She flicked another card at him and it landed in his lap. They both froze and her gaze cut to the card, then fled back up to his face. The grin plastered there spread into a smirk. "Well, all you had to do was ask."

"Funny. Maker take me, I had to wind up with a funny dwarf." She waved a hand at him. "No, I want you to show me how you cheated."

Varric's mind was turning cartwheels the moment the words left her mouth, gleeful at the prospect of corrupting this woman with his baser, yet more handy, bits of knowledge. But first, a test, to see if she was serious. They'd known each other only a few days, and what he'd seen of Hawke was impressive. She certainly knew how to make that sword of hers sing.

But bravery in battle and wits played across a table were two different things.

Varric sighed, like he had not a care in the world, but his quirked eyebrow gave him a rakish air. "Fair enough. I did just cheat you out of five silver. But if you really want to know, prove it."

Hawke looked around the main floor of the Hanged Man and grimaced. "I am NOT making a fool of myself here, Varric."

He shook his head, chuckling softly at her innocence. He crooked a finger at her and when she leaned in closer, said in a low voice, "Cheating is about guts, and a willingness to see how far you can take the game." He pointed down to the card in his lap. "I want to see if you're brave enough to do what is necessary."

Hawke's eyes widened slightly, and he continued. "Pull your chair next to mine, take the card from my lap, and put it in your hand. That will be the first card you'll use to cheat me at Wicked Grace with." He pulled away, smiling. "Simple, right?"

Hawke was still for a moment too long and Varric became a tad concerned he'd pushed her too far. But a second later, she beamed at him, her painted lips breaking into a devilish smile. "Simple," she replied.

The old wooden chair groaned in protest as Hawke dragged it the few feet next to Varric's. It creaked, then moaned as Hawke flung herself down in it, then leaned over the armrest to get closer to him. He waited patiently, knowing she'd make a quick-as-lightning move to snatch the card and be done with his little game.

Varric hated being wrong, but he excused his ego and his pride when Hawke slid, liquid grace and powerful limbs, over her chair and onto his. Her booted feet and her legs were still on her chair but her entire upper body was leaning over him, her hands bracing herself on his armrests.

"Hawke, what are you - "

"Shhh, Varric." She dipped her head down, then looked up long enough to stare at him with warm eyes and say softly, "Never question whether I'm brave enough to do what is necessary."

And she plucked the card from his lap with her teeth.