Jon comes out of his solar to the balcony to look at what commotion is there in the ground. He had just recently executed 12 men. His dark eyes roved at the ground before stopping at seeing a familiar shade of hair. He stills.

She...she is here. The love of his life. The girl he once wanted to marry. The girl he loved desperately more than anything else in life, you, his quiet and kind half-sister. Arya was playful. Sansa was haughty and cold.

But you. You were kind to him. Last he heard of you, The Lannisters were searching for you in the South since you escaped from them. He remembered desperately praying for you. For you to be alive and well.

You were his angel. His light.

He remembers dying every single day, in worry for you. And you are finally here now.

He walks down.

He descends like a dark mountain, men parting for him, as you look up at him in joy and relief.

You have become so beautiful too, Jon wonders as he takes in your features. 3 years, he has not seen you.

He might not show it well to you. He will come as darker and colder.