[Ned nods his head in quiet obedience, but there's a warmed glint to his eyes as they settle upon her. It fills his heart, to see her smile. It feels like a fire spilling out into an open room, filling each corner with heat and light.

On its heels comes a douse of cold water, snuffing some of the flames. He sees so much of her mother in her that, if he lingers too long on the thought, it might draw out a weep from his lungs. And this is neither the time nor the place for such behavior. This is a night of splendor, glamor, and all of the things his darling Sansa once dreamed of as a girl. He would've loved to celebrate like this at her wedding feast.

His eyes follow hers as they sweep around the room. At her hesitation, they dart back to her face and, with a quiet laugh, he rubs at his chin with his hand. He considers the dance floor for a few moments as he comes to a decision.]

So long as you don't mind your father's clumsiness. I could wield a sword and shield with ease, but dancing was always a challenge.