There is something I find terribly fascinating about swords. Often described in detail as things of delicate beauty, it is easy to forget how destructive they are, even in a book which pretty much is about war (I’m presently reading ASOIAF and finding it equally difficult to get through and put down).
I always get taken in by these swords – Ice of Ned Stark’s ; Needle of Arya Stark’s ; Longclaw of Jon Snow; Anduril of Aragorn – when I read about them, perhaps because they seem to embody the qualities that their owners have. And there is something to be said for the nobility of personal combat.
But always, weapons are best left to the worlds contained in books as violence is only romantic for the one blessed enough never to have to experienced it. So I’ll keep them on paper and sharp in my imagination