no subject

[tooktheblack]

Jon spent most of his days on the island ranging, both on his own and as a part of his duties for the IPD. Today, he and Ghost had walked most of the perimeter surrounding the dinosaurs and found nothing out of the ordinary so they’d headed deep into the jungle to hunt. While it was boring to have no real threats, Jon couldn’t say that he preferred his life in peril every time he and Ghost took to the paths. While it was no real challenge to hunt boar and jungle fowl, it was better than being killed by a dinosaur or frozen to death by a wight.

But today, deep in the jungle, there seemed to be a little building that Jon didn’t recognize. It was almost like an overgrown hut, in a way, and he wondered if someone was living out here. If they were, he guessed it was no business but their own but the Council might want a record of it so they could keep track of the comings and goings; it seemed there were more disappearances than arrivals these days and Jon wasn’t sure what that meant. Ghost trotted ahead of him, pawing at the door of the hut and Jon’s mind was made up. He would see what was in this hut, if it was abandoned of if someone was living there, and then go back to the IPD office to make a report of it to the commander there. It would likely be nothing but, considering the island and its nature, Jon would rather be certain of nothing than to be caught unawares.

He tugged open the door and stepped inside, expecting the must of mold and animal droppings and not cool, clean air and plush carpets. The inside of this building seemed much larger than the outside and he peered back at the island, the jungle overgrowth and cloying heat, before deciding to venture further into this new place. It was something the Council would likely want to know about and Jon thought that having a detailed report to give them would be better than coming back empty-handed and knowing nothing.

It seemed to be an inn of some sort but of the modern variety he’d seen in films and not what he was used to in Westeros. There were plush carpets and cool air, ostensibly from air conditioning, and the building was much larger than the Compound. How had it fit inside that tiny, unassuming hut? How was this possible? While Jon was no real fan of magic, he had encountered enough of it on the island to know that it could occasionally be benevolent. There was usually a catch to that, though, and he kept himself aware as he and Ghost trod through the hallways.

There were other doors here and there and Jon tried a few of them. One opened into an ornate bathroom of some sort, with a fancy claw-foot tub and gold fixtures. Interesting, but not something he cared to explore further. Another door opened into a library filled with books and he made a note to tell Richard about it to pass along to his lady, who loved to read. More doors revealed a garden, another city and some sort of game room and Jon closed them all, thinking that it was high time he and Ghost went back to the island and brought a full group in to investigate this place more thoroughly.

He made his way back to the door he’d come through some time earlier and pulled it open, frowning deeply when he saw nothing more than brooms and mops and not the island he’d left behind. He closed it and tried it again - this time, the door opened to a forest of weirwood with thick snow on the ground, something that could never exist on the island because it was far too hot for that much snow and besides, even in December there was never an entire forest of weirwood. The door had opened to Westeros and, more importantly, had opened to some place beyond the Wall and in the far North.

“Why do I feel the sense that we’re never going back there, Ghost?” he asked, watching the direwolf’s face carefully. Ghost was more intelligent than a dog and sometimes Jon felt like he and Ghost were one, that he’d become a warg just like Varamyr Sixskins. It wasn’t something he could do easily and usually not consciously but the result was that they were closer than a man and his pet usually were. Ghost put his head on his paws and looked through the door, watching snow fall among the weirwood trees.

“I know. It’s tempting. Let’s try to find the island again. I am not ready to give that up yet, no matter how tempting it might be to feel snow crunching beneath my boots once more. We have to find the island and tell the others about this place. We can’t leave Robb and Leah and Bran behind.”

So Jon began pulling at doors again, increasingly more frustrated when each door failed to reveal the island he so desperately wanted to get back to.