[This is not a feast and not even close to the welcome parties close to the beach. He had to become real drunk to even try this. It would mean trouble inside his breeches. Robb has poor self-control regarding that.

When her hands slide over his knees he shifts a little but does not move away. He smiles instead.] It is quite...a lot. [He does not like the way the light flicker in such a fast way.] They are...are you really planning to move against me in such a way?

[He takes the glass and sips on it. It is something stronger than ale. Or Dornish red, for that matter.]

Aye, to friends and modern dances.

[After those words he takes a larger sip and, gods, does it burn down his throat.]