"All you have to do is draw a card, Freckles."
"No, wait." Agarwaenor squinted at the cards in his hand. He pulled one out, set the others face down and tilted the remaining card. "Were daggers good?" He picked the others up one by one again, studying them.
"You can't tell us what you have!" Varric rubbed his brow, shaking his head with a hidden grin. "You're as bad as Daisy," he muttered to himself.
Anika chuckled, a surprisingly light and airy sound for the healer. "I don't know, Varric, if he would like to share his hand… I say we let him!" She chuckled again, this time trying - not so subtly - to lean over and look at Agarwaenor's hand with a devious smirk.
He hissed at her and twisted himself away, awkwardly. Leaving his hand wide open for a view from Varric, who grinned wickedly. He cleared his throat a moment later, causing the elf to jump and contort himself again. Agarwaenor blinked at Varric, confusion clear in his freckled features.
"Draw a card," Varric insisted, gesturing to the deck.
"Right."
He narrowed his gaze, picking the top card and laying it on the pile. The Angel of Death card smiled up at him and he looked at his cards, then back at the pile.
"Do I discard something now?"
"No, Freckles, you share your hand." Varric explained, a winning smile on his lips as he laid his cards out.
"Damn cheatin' dwarf," Anika muttered under her breath, her own poor hand set out for display.
Agarwaenor squinted at their hands in turn, then laid down his own. "So…"
"Time to pay up, Inquisitor!" Varric declared in a disgustingly cheerful, sing-song tone to the chorus of two groaning opponents.
