It's a slow stir, but not an unpleasant one; thankfully, Jon's started to get past the stage of their return, where he's woken up to anxious dread, wondering when the other shoe would drop, when the dream would end. Normalcy in the mundane and in the "cursed" aspect of the island have been enough to shake those worries - and what a pleasant surprise that it's the former, this time around.

Peeling himself out of bed, Jon pulls on his robe hanging from the back of the bedroom door, padding slowly out into the world. First, to the kitchen, then, outside, where he finds Martin. His own smile is just as warm, even with the tinges of sleep-haze that cling to his face.

"Not too early at all. I've got to stop being dead to the world eventually, I suppose," he half-jokes, moving to take his own seat. "The entire house smells fantastic, by the way. What all did you make?"