The Kevlar Throne

Disclaimer: I own none of the Characters or Locations of this.

Prologue

Will leaned against the side of the Humvee, feeling the vibrations as it drove over the compacted snow. They had left Castle Black only 3 hours before, but he still felt uneasy. This was not his first Ranging, but this time it felt different. He fingered his Rifle nervously. It was older than he was; the Night's Watch never retired a weapon whilst it still had use. He felt the Vehicle judder to a halt. Gared called back "Woodland's too thick. Humvee won't go any further"

"We continue on foot" replied Ser Waymar.

As they climbed out of the Humvee, Royce turned to Gared. "Check out ahead. We'll stay with the Humvee"

Gared disappeared into the Woodland, Gun in hand. A few minutes later, he returned.

"50 Wildings. Dead. Look Frozen"

Waymar snorted "It is barely below freezing, and you expect me to believe that 50 Wildlings froze to death? You're mistaken, or lying. Which is it?"

Gared looked at the Boy in disgust. He was pushing 50, but Will knew that if it came to it, he would back Gared over Royce, Southron Gun or no. Royce relented. "Let's go take a look then. We'll see what it was you saw."

As they walked, Will felt the temperature drop. His Combat Fatigues gained a thin layer of Frost, white powder coating the Black. He shivered. Distracted as he was, he almost collided with Gared. The Older man had stopped, in a Clearing. Old Wildling Rifles lay littered over the area. Gared was looking in disbelief. "I… don't understand… The Wildlings are gone."

Royce laughed. "Maybe they woke up?"

"And left their guns?" Gared countered. Waymar frowned, and then shrugged. "Will. Gather up these guns, and then get back to the Humvee. We have wasted enough time here as it is."

Will complied. A few minutes later, with all the guns loaded in the Hummer, he heard a scream.

Gared was dead. Royce could see that. He had turned away, trying to spot the… thing that had flickered past in the corner of his eye, to no avail, when Gared had screamed in pain, and when he turned back, Gared lay on the floor, a single shard of ice jammed in his throat. Royce shuddered. He unslung his rifle, and called out. "Come out and fight like men. Only cowards hide in the Shadows."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. A White figure, made of ice, strode into the clearing. The temperature dropped, and frost began to creep up the barrel of his Gun. "Others…" he breathed. It had a gun too, but it was unlike any he had seen. It was more angular than any Human Weapon, and made of… he knew not what. It gleamed in the moonlight like metal, but was the blue of ice. Waymar snapped out of his reverie, sunk to one knee, and pumped lead into the advancing Other. Bullets smashed through it, but failed to cause lasting damage. With every shot, the gun grew more icy, through some dark magic, he knew not what. The Other halted, struggling to advance through the hail of fire. Waymar changed Clip expertly, and kept firing, hoping to keep it pinned down. He noticed Wights gathering, but was preoccupied with the Other. He was beginning to drive it back. He began backing slowly away, when the unthinkable happened. The barrel of his gun, now deeply encased in ice, shattered. The Other raised its gun, and Waymar Royce was no more.

Will remained with the Humvee. It was standard protocol. He was to remain here, and prepare for a hasty escape, whilst the other two dealt with the threat. There was no use in him charging in there, and likely getting shot. But still, the prolonged gunfire made him nervous. But not as nervous as the sudden quiet. He looked up, as Waymar staggered out of the Woods. His eyes glowed blue, and he had lost his gun. Will was terrified, but he knew what needed to be done. Waymar was compromised. Will had to get back to the Wall, had to get back to- He saw an Other, calmly leaving the forest, Wights in it's wake. Will screamed, and his foot slammed the pedal to the floor.

The Humvee was moving at speed, when it reached Castle Black. The gates were opened, Will had radioed ahead earlier, telling them that Waymar and Gared had made contact with an unknown force, and were engaging. He had gone silent after that, but they kept the Gates open. Will was at the wheel of the Hummer, and he didn't stop, simply carrying on past. Benjen cursed, and, sighing, radioed Winterfell. A few minutes later, he had a reply, from Jon Snow. Jon had been flying for 3 years now, and was undoubtedly the best Pilot in the North, if not all of Westeros.

Jon loved to fly. He enjoyed the freedom it gave him, the ability to escape from it all. His bastard status. The hatred Lady Stark felt for him. It was all left behind. All down at Winterfell. Up here, it was just him, and the plane. The engines screamed as he brought here down at a steep angle. There was a dot, far below. He continued to dive, until he was only a few hundred metres above the ground. A Humvee, all in black, travelling fast along a dirt track, across Brandon's Gift. Jon prepared a missiles for launch, and opened radio communication with the Night's Watch. With his uncle.

"This is Jon Snow, I have the Hummer in my Sights, permission to launch Missiles?"

"Confirmed"

"Humvee immobilised. Returning to Winterfell"

Meanwhile, by the Humvee, Will cursed. His leg felt broken, and he was stuck, unable to walk. The Humvee burnt behind him, sending acrid smoke into the air, visible for miles around, advertising to the Stark exactly where he was. He knew what was coming. Who was coming.

AN: Please review, and tell me what you think. Any feedback would be appreciated. Will probably update at some point. It will jump quite a lot, I'm not all that keen on writing a Chapter for every Chapter RR Martin wrote...