I don't know why my mind went here, but, well...ear worm.
“…Do I even want to know?” Nathaniel asked from the doorway, scaring Anders half to death. Still, he played it cool.
“Do you even want to know what, exactly?” Anders asked casually, looking and sounding for all the world like nothing was even remotely odd about their current situation.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Nathaniel demanded, rubbing his eyes.
“No, I do not,” Anders replied calmly. “Is it important?”
“It is three in the morning,” Nathaniel said flatly.
Anders blinked. “Really? That’s rather early. Or late, depending on if you went to bed already or not.”
“So it is,” Nathaniel agreed. He seemed to be waiting for Anders to say something.
“So what are you doing here so early or late?” Anders asked after the silence stretched on so long as to begin to unnerve him.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Nathaniel remarked, crossing his arms across his chest.
“You absolutely could,” Anders readily agreed. “Except that, you know, I asked first.”
“I came down here because I smelled something cooking and went to go see what it was and who was making it,” Nathaniel explained. “That was when I heard the singing.”
Anders looked around nervously. “Singing? What singing? Are you sure it was me? And that you’re feeling well? In fact, are you absolutely positive that you’re even awake right now?”
“Pretty sure,” Nathaniel replied dryly. “And until I began speaking, I actually saw you singing something about sticking to the status quo.”
“And why shouldn’t I want to stick to the status quo?” Anders demanded. “I don’t know about you but my status quo is pretty nice right now. I don’t have to live in the Tower, I’m not being hunted down by templars who look increasingly closer to just killing me, and I don’t even have to hide my magic. Combine that with the pretty girl I’m sleeping with and the seemingly unlimited funds the Grey Wardens keep managing to accrue and this is the best status quo I have ever had.”
“Be that as it may, that doesn’t explain why you were singing about it,” Nathaniel said, still appearing bemused. “Or why you were cooking…whatever it is that you are cooking.”
Anders looked torn and remained quiet for a moment. Finally, he said hesitantly, “ Can you keep a secret?”
“I can,” Nathaniel acknowledged.
“Will you?” Anders pressed.
“I will,” Nathaniel confirmed.
Still, Anders wavered. “Would it be too much to ask you to give me your word as a Howe? That may not mean much to most people but I know it’s important to you and surely you wouldn’t risk further dishonoring it by breaking your promise to me.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes at this childish behavior. “Anders, just get on with it.”
“Right,” Anders said, clearing his throat. “I bake. Strudels, scones, even apple pandowdy.” He gestured towards the stove. “Someday, I hope to make the perfect crème brulée.”
“Okay…” Nathaniel said slowly. “I don’t see why that’s a big secret. It is a little odd that I’ve known you for four years and yet never knew this about you but other than that, I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“I can’t be good at cooking!” Anders exclaimed urgently.
Nathaniel looked doubtful. “Why not?”
“Because if anyone knew then they’d make me help out when we’re on the road,” Anders explained matter-of-factly.
“So you’re hiding your cooking abilities to get out of work,” Nathaniel summarized, unimpressed.
“Precisely,” Anders agreed. “And you can’t tell anyone unless you’re willing to sacrifice your precious Howe honor.”
Nathaniel gave a long-suffering sigh. “And the singing?”
“You can’t tell anybody about that, either,” Anders replied promptly.
“Why?” Nathaniel asked sarcastically. “Are you afraid you’ll be asked to entertain people while on the road now?”
“I had not thought to worry about that,” Anders confessed. “Although now that you mention it…but no, that’s not it. I’m a mage.”
“And that has what, exactly, to do with singing?” Nathaniel demanded.
“I can’t be a mage and a singer!” Anders insisted. “That would be like…like you being a noble and a pick-pocket!”
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, bad example,” Anders admitted. “But it just can’t be done!”
“Why not?” Nathaniel pressed.
“I…don’t actually know,” Anders conceded. “But it can’t.”
Nathaniel began muttering under his breath and Anders was fairly certain that he caught the words ‘crazy mages.’ “So you’re reduced to the singing and the baking in the middle of the night?”
“I haven’t been caught yet,” Anders said with a nod. “Well…unless you count by the dog but he can keep a secret.”
“Right,” Nathaniel said decisively, spinning on his heel. “I’m going back to bed.”
“But…but I haven’t told you about the hip hop and my cello-playing yet!” Anders called after him.
Nathaniel kept walking.
“If you leave now, you won’t get to have any of the crème brulée!” Anders cried out. “And while it’s not quite perfect yet, it is most certainly getting there!”
Nathaniel paused. He turned and inhaled the succulent scent wafting from the oven.
He sighed and came back towards Anders. “Alright, fine. Tell me all about your completely unnecessary secret life as a singing cello-playing hip-hopping baker mage. This had better be some good crème brulée…”