Note: Crack pairing written for a livejournal community! Enjoy, we need more Hot Pie over here...
Rumors travelled fast in Westeros. Noblemen learnt news, then they slept with whores and told them stuff after they were left satisfied by their services. And whores weren't exactly well-known for their ability to keep a secret. That was the way things run in all the Seven Kingdoms, no, in the whole world; except that every time the story was told, a little detail was modified, a little comment was added, and in the end there were a million rumors and no certainty of which one was the truth.
The Inn of the Kneeling Man was no exception to the rule, and rumors eventually always reached it. The few people who passed by did bring news with them, from the north and the south, but all of them had over thirty different versions.
Some spoke of a dragon queen that had nested on the Slave's Bay, across the Narrow Sea. Others commented about Jon Snow, the new Lord Commander of the Wall. Some shared stories about Lord Bolton's bastard son and his alleged murderous tendancies. And on top of that, there was his brand-new marriage; noe other than Arya Stark of Winterfell.
Hot Pie heard all kind of stories about Ramsay Bolton's mental state, but no one denied the fact that he had indeed wed the youngest daughter of House Stark. Most people siad they pitied her, yet internally Hot Pie smirked; it was him who should be pitied. Perhaps the bastard was an important, noble bastard, but he knew Arya, and whoever tried to walk over her could get their throat slit. He had seen her do it.
He knew she could take care of herself, he had to believe it. Arry -no, Arya- had been a friend to him, a companion, and it was thanks to her that he wasn't dead and buried in Harrenhal. That was the reason he was not quite alarmed by the gossip. He concerned himself with serving well, staying out of trouble, and surviving until the end of the day. All Hot Pie could do was hope that she did the same, and perhaps one day their paths would cross again.