Hawke's arrival in the Hanged Man was heralded by the chorus of cheers in her name, and that was how Varric always had two drinks on the table by the time she joined him.

"Well, Champion, what can this humble dwarf do for you?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together with a smile.

Hawke raised her glass to him in silent cheers and took a swig before answering. "Oh, you know, the usual. Help me make a few deals, introduce Bianca to some bandits… explain some rumors."

Varric chuckled. "You're gonna have to be more specific than that, Hawke."

The Champion pulled a folded letter from some crease in her armor she'd tucked it into, and slid it onto the table in front of him, without breaking eye contact. "Well, my cousin has apparently heard a few interesting things about me."

Varric looked down at the letter – specifically the paragraph Hawke's gauntleted finger pointed to.
'I hear stories, but I can't tell what's true and what's exaggerated. Did you really fistfight the Qunari leader? Are you actually sleeping with the captain of the city guard? Did you slay a dragon in Darktown? It can't all be true!'

When the dwarf lifted his gaze again, Hawke was looking at him with a very unamused expression. "I see where the Qunari and dragon ones came from, but 'sleeping with the captain'? Really, Varric?"

"Ah, well, you see, Hawke, I had money riding on a game of Two Truths and a Lie. Not my fault someone took the Lie as a Truth." Varric leaned back in his chair, grinning. "I won, by the way."

"That's all well and good, but this is making things weird with Aveline and me. Not to mention, I think poor Donnic is getting jealous. I don't mind the crazy stories, but rumors about my relationships are awkward. Couldn't you have told them something like, I don't know, that I've sworn an oath not to bed anyone who can't best me in combat, or some such?"

Hawke was dimly aware of having made a mistake the moment she saw the gleam in Varric's eyes and the smirk crawling across his face. He waved a hand at her and nodded. "Duly noted. No more rumors about affairs, I promise."

Time passed, and the Champion forgot about the incident entirely, until one day Bodahn came to her in her room with an odd message.

"Messere, there's… there's a man at the door. Says he's here to challenge you for your hand…?"

It took several seconds for Hawke to put the pieces together, and then she burst out laughing. "I suppose I brought this on myself!" she managed between bouts of giggling. "Alright, Bodahn. Tell the man I'll be out in a moment. And if Varric's not already around, send Orana to fetch him. He needs to see this."

The fight itself was unremarkable. While Hawke had to give the fellow props for having the spine to try, he folded like wet paper before her battle prowess. Varric, naturally, found the whole thing hysterical, and was doubled over with laughter when Hawke walked over to him after the duel.

"Yes, yes, laugh it up, Varric. Very funny." She smirked, folding her arms over her chest.

He wiped tears from his eyes and wheezed for breath. "Hey, this was your idea, Hawke. Honestly, I didn't expect anyone to have the guts to actually try it! I mean, you beat the Arishok; what did that guy expect?"

But this turned out not to be a one-off incident, and it was not quite so funny the second time, or the time after that – to Hawke, at least. By the third challenger, the Champion noted that Varric and Isabela had set up with two folding chairs and a parasol nearby, snacking on salted nuts and exchanging money after every fight. Every duel inspired three more, with the challenges coming at increasingly inconvenient hours of the day.

After three days of this madness, the Kirkwall guard finally got involved, with Aveline personally storming in to shut the duels down. "That's enough. You!" She pointed to the latest fool eager to have Hawke mop the floor with them. "Get out!" The would-be suitor withered under the captain's glare and scampered off without another word.

Aveline turned to her friend, lips pursed. "Hawke, what is the meaning of this? You do realize that I can only put down so many injuries to local merchants as 'self-defense' before it starts to look odd? What are you doing?"

"I've only been obliging the ladies and gentlemen who've requested to duel me," Hawke said, grinning.

"Why?" the captain demanded flatly, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"Well, you see, Aveline," Varric said, sauntering over, "there's been a rumor going around that Hawke refuses to bed anyone who can't best her in combat. And these lovely folks apparently wanted to try their luck."

"Exactly," the Champion added, shrugging. "Who am I to turn them down?"

Aveline glared at Varric, still pinching the bridge of her nose. There was a long, awkward pause, and then she cleared her throat expectantly.

The dwarf, still grinning ear to ear, shrugged. "Alright, alright, so I might have had a hand in starting that rumor. How else was Hawke supposed to prove she wasn't sleeping with you?"

"What?" Aveline stared at them in confused disbelief, sputtering, and then shook her head. "You know what, nevermind. I don't want to know. Just… no more of this. Everybody, clear out."

The random passers-by who had been gawking dispersed, until only Hawke and Varric were left. After a moment, the dwarf raised an eyebrow and said, "So, drinks at the Hanged Man?"

Hawke chuckled. "Absolutely. I think you owe me a drink or six for that."