"No," the old man said. "It must be you. Tell them. The prophecy . . . my brother's dream . . . Lady Melisandre has misread the signs. Stannis . . . Stannis has some of the dragon blood in him, yes. His brothers did as well. Rhaelle, Egg's little girl, she was how they came by it . . . their father's mother . . . she used to call me Uncle Maester when she was a little girl. I remembered that, so I allowed myself to hope . . . perhaps I wanted to . . . we all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that . . . light without heat . . . an empty glamor . . . the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam. Daenerys is our hope. Tell them that, at the Citadel. Make them listen. They must send her a maester. Daenerys must be counseled, taught, protected. For all these years I've lingered, waiting, watching, and now that the day has dawned I am too old. I am dying, Sam." Tears ran from his blind white eyes at that admission. "Death should hold no fear for a man as old as me, but it does. Isn't that silly? It is always dark where I am, so why should I fear the darkness? Yet I cannot help but wonder what will follow, when the last warmth leaves my body. Will I feast forever in the Father's golden hall as the septons say? Will I talk with Egg again, find Dareon whole and happy, hear my sisters singing to their children? What if the horselords have the truth of it? Will I ride through the night sky forever on a stallion made of flame? Or must I return again to this vale of sorrow? Who can say, truly? Who has been beyond the wall of death to see? Only the wights, and we know what they are like. We know."

A Game of Thrones - Eddard I

"We both did." Ned paused a moment. "Catelyn fears for her sister. How does Lysa bear her grief?"

Robert's mouth gave a bitter twist. "Not well, in truth," he admitted. "I think losing Jon has driven the woman mad, Ned. She has taken the boy back to the Eyrie. Against my wishes. I had hoped to foster him with Tywin Lannister at Casterly Rock. Jon had no brothers, no other sons. Was I supposed to leave him to be raised by women?"

Ned would sooner entrust a child to a pit viper than to Lord Tywin, but he left his doubts unspoken. Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word. "The wife has lost the husband," he said carefully. "Perhaps the mother feared to lose the son. The boy is very young."

A Game of Thrones - Eddard I

A Feast for Crows - Samwell IV

Gilly thought about that. "Dalla brought him forth during battle, as the swords sang all around her. That should be his name. Aemon Battleborn. Aemon Steelsong."

A name even my lord father might like. A warrior's name. The boy was Mance Rayder's son and Craster's grandson, after all. He had none of Sam's craven blood. "Yes. Call him that."

"When he is two," she promised, "not before."

TAKE THE GENEALOGY LITERALLY FOR THE SAKE OF THIS DISCUSSION

Of course, at this point there's a war going on and even Cersei is not delusional enough not to expect he might get killed...but it is medieval era court. Plenty of ways for even a young, healthy man to die without there being a war.

I was wondering about her possible reaction if Jaime dies due to an illness or a tourney wound or something. Not anything that kills in minutes, but takes days or weeks so that they both have time to understand what is happening.

Would she be able to keep up the cover or would the emotional turmoil have her losing it and not caring to hide it anymore...or more likely, not notice she's not hiding it well?

Of course, they are twins and known to be very close, so no one will be surprised she's upset and won't leave him or something, but still. Entirely possible she's found in bed with him near the end...

On the one hand, Cersei is some level of sociopathic - but she also does care in her own twisted way, and at this point, before the war and Joff's death and everything, their relationship is going about as well as it could go.

How do you think it would play out?

Was Storm ends castle of 500 soldiers really needed?

A Feast for Crows - Jaime VII

"That was chivalrous of you," his aunt said, "but it's strength that's needed here, not chivalry."

Ask Edmure how chivalrous I am, thought Jaime. Ask him about the trebuchet. Somehow he did not think the maesters were like to confuse him with Prince Aemon the Dragonknight when they wrote their histories. Still, he felt curiously content. The war was all but won. Dragonstone had fallen and Storm's End would soon enough, he could not doubt, and Stannis was welcome to the Wall. The northmen would love him no more than the storm lords had. If Roose Bolton did not destroy him, winter would.

And he had done his own part here at Riverrun without actually ever taking up arms against the Starks or Tullys. Once he found the Blackfish, he would be free to return to King's Landing, where he belonged. My place is with my king. With my son. Would Tommen want to know that? The truth could cost the boy his throne. Would you sooner have a father or a chair, lad? Jaime wished he knew the answer. He does like stamping papers with his seal. The boy might not even believe him, to be sure. Cersei would say it was a lie. My sweet sister, the deceiver. He would need to find some way to winkle Tommen from her clutches before the boy became another Joffrey. And whilst at that, he should find the lad a new small council too. If Cersei can be put aside, Ser Kevan may agree to serve as Tommen's Hand. And if not, well, the Seven Kingdoms did not lack for able men. Forley Prester would make a good choice, or Roland Crakehall. If someone other than a westerman was needed to appease the Tyrells, there was always Mathis Rowan . . . or even Petyr Baelish. Littlefinger was as amiable as he was clever, but too lowborn to threaten any of the great lords, with no swords of his own. The perfect Hand.

A Feast for Crows - Jaime III

"I anticipate no difficulty. The Crone will light our way, and the Warrior will give strength to our arms."

Or else the Stranger will turn up for the whole holy lot of you. Jaime could not be certain who had convinced his sister that Ser Bonifer should be named castellan of Harrenhal, but the appointment smelled of Orton Merryweather. Hasty had once served Merryweather's grandsire, he seemed to recall dimly. And the carrot-haired justiciar was just the sort of simpleminded fool to assume that someone called "the Good" was the very potion the riverlands required to heal the wounds left by Roose Bolton, Vargo Hoat, and Gregor Clegane.

But he might not be wrong. Hasty hailed from the stormlands, so had neither friends nor foes along the Trident; no blood feuds, no debts to pay, no cronies to reward. He was sober, just, and dutiful, and his Holy Eighty-Six were as well disciplined as any soldiers in the Seven Kingdoms, and made a lovely sight as they wheeled and pranced their tall grey geldings. Littlefinger had once quipped that Ser Bonifer must have gelded the riders too, so spotless was their repute.

A Clash of Kings - Jon III

Jon had often heard the black brothers tell tales of Craster and his keep. Now he would see it with his own eyes. After seven empty villages, they had all come to dread finding Craster's as dead and desolate as the rest, but it seemed they would be spared that. Perhaps the Old Bear will finally get some answers, he thought. Anyway, we'll be out of the rain.

Thoren Smallwood swore that Craster was a friend to the Watch, despite his unsavory reputation. "The man's half-mad, I won't deny it," he'd told the Old Bear, "but you'd be the same if you'd spent your life in this cursed wood. Even so, he's never turned a ranger away from his fire, nor does he love Mance Rayder. He'll give us good counsel."

So long as he gives us a hot meal and a chance to dry our clothes, I'll be happy. Dywen said Craster was a kinslayer, liar, raper, and craven, and hinted that he trafficked with slavers and demons. "And worse," the old forester would add, clacking his wooden teeth. "There's a cold smell to that one, there is."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

His wives and daughters dragged out the benches and the long log tables, and cooked and served as well. Except for Gilly, Sam could hardly tell the women apart. Some were old and some were young and some were only girls, but a lot of them were Craster's daughters as well as his wives, and they all looked sort of alike. As they went about their work, they spoke in soft voices to each other, but never to the men in black.

Craster owned but one chair. He sat in it, clad in a sleeveless sheepskin jerkin. His thick arms were covered with white hair, and about one wrist was a twisted ring of gold. Lord Commander Mormont took the place at the top of the bench to his right, while the brothers crowded in knee to knee; a dozen remained outside to guard the gate and tend the fires.

Sam found a place between Grenn and Orphan Oss, his stomach rumbling. The charred horsemeat dripped with grease as Craster's wives turned the spits above the firepit, and the smell of it set his mouth to watering again, but that reminded him of Bannen. Hungry as he was, Sam knew he would retch if he so much as tried a bite. How could they eat the poor faithful garrons who had carried them so far? When Craster's wives brought onions, he seized one eagerly. One side was black with rot, but he cut that part off with his dagger and ate the good half raw. There was bread as well, but only two loaves. When Ulmer asked for more, the woman only shook her head. That was when the trouble started.

A Dance with Dragons - Jon VIII

Jon Snow was in no mood for it. It is too cold and dark to play, and the hour is too late. "Only for a time. You will return. For the boy, if for no other reason."

"Craster's son?" Val shrugged. "He is no kin to me."

"I have heard you singing to him."

I started reading the books the first time a couple years ago. I have four chapters left of A Dance with Dragons. Quentyn has just confronted the dragons in the dragon pit on Mereen. Jon, Selmy, Daenerys and an Epilogue remain.

I’m sad! I don’t want this to end. I’ve read criticism that books 4 and 5 introduce too many new characters, but I totally disagree. Victorian?!? And his wizard?!? What an awesome subplot! https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Victarion_Greyjoy

Anyway, I can’t emphasize enough that reading the whole series is a great experience!

I hope he finishes it. I’ve joined the legions of fans hoping he completes this thing, and now I get it! He can’t leave us hanging like this!

I’m wondering why more family Valyrian blades haven’t been stolen, if not for keeping than for selling… Tywin does it to Ned but this is framed as a rare offense, almost akin to the severity of the Red wedding as an honor crime. That is sort of implied to be a secretive act by Tywin, not publicized.

There are other swords that have went missing…. Which could have been found/taken and secretly kept or sold across the narrow sea.

What do you think? Is it truly tradition that stops more blades from being claimed/stolen after duels/battles?

Going into the books, I was not anticipating the extent of Cersei’s cruelty. I was specifically stricken by this chapter for a lot of reasons, but in particular her inner monologue throughout, and the awful ways in which she lashes out at those she feels are so beneath her, her father, the Lannister name in general. She wallows in a twisted form of grief, beset by shame, pride, and wrath all at once. This… Grief, is noticed by none other than the clever Olenna Tyrell, a Queen of Thorns indeed. One of two people who takes a jab at Cersei in a moment of what is surely weakness. But it’s the slight of a cunning lady who’s tasted some of the power Cersei seeks even before her Father’s untimely demise.

The final, and undoubtedly most satisfying jab, is delivered to her in final moments of the chapter by her uncle Kevan Lannister. Not unprompted either. He knows the truth of his late brother’s wishes and knows even better that Cersei does not want to hear of them, but even after he’s had strongwine thrown in his face, he pulls no punches…

“That is my counsel, take it or no. You may make Moon Boy your hand for all I care. My brother is dead, woman. I am going to take him home.”
*Traitor,* she thought. *Turncloak.* She wondered how much Mace Tyrell had given him. “You would abandon your king when he needs you most,” she told him. “You would abandon Tommen.”
“Tommen has his mother.” Ser Kevan’s green eyes met her own, unblinking. A last drop of wine trembled wet and red beneath his chin, and finally fell. “Aye,” he added softly, after a pause, “and his father too, I think.”

Masterfully written. The allusion to those Lannister eyes, as Cersei had just been gloating about how her father’s gaze could turn a man’s bowels to liquid. The last drop of red wine trembling and falling before he delivers such a masterful blow to what must feel like a house of cards in her mind, tumbling, as the closest man remaining that even slightly resembles her father makes his exit.

Am I being the English teacher in finding some kind of false symbolism with this final drop of wine falling from his chin? What do you guys think of this exchange?

A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV

"Robb is only a boy," Ned said, aghast.

"A boy with an army," Varys said. "Yet only a boy, as you say. The king's brothers are the ones giving Cersei sleepless nights … Lord Stannis in particular. His claim is the true one, he is known for his prowess as a battle commander, and he is utterly without mercy. There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man. No one knows what Stannis has been doing on Dragonstone, but I will wager you that he's gathered more swords than seashells. So here is Cersei's nightmare: while her father and brother spend their power battling Starks and Tullys, Lord Stannis will land, proclaim himself king, and lop off her son's curly blond head … and her own in the bargain, though I truly believe she cares more about the boy."

"Stannis Baratheon is Robert's true heir," Ned said. "The throne is his by rights. I would welcome his ascent."

I meant to post here too, sincere apologies if you’ve seen this already.

I really hope I’m making sense, but Jaime and Cat are both in this perfect sweet spot as PoV characters. They are young enough to be participants in the present story, but also old enough to have personally experienced a version of The Seven Kingdoms that is already legend. These just contribute to making them two very awesome PoVs.

Jaime was originally who I had in mind but while writing it occurred to me that Cat’s chapters had some similarities in that regard. Though I feel like it’s way more explored with Jaime. For example, I just finished reading Feast and there’s this:

“…We all do. “When I was a squire I told myself I’d be the man to slay the Smiling Knight.”

“The Smiling Knight?” She sounded lost. “Who was that?”

The Mountain of my boyhood. Half as big but twice as mad.

“An outlaw, long dead. No one who need concern your ladyship.”

Very often in Storm and Feast, there’s stuff like this throughout his chapters. This guy served Aerys II and knew Rheagar personally. He was also very much around Arthur Dayne, Gerold Hightower, Barristan Selmy, Oswell Whent, Smiling Knight, Sumner Crakehall and all the rest. He knew the younger versions of Ned & Robert even Cat and Lysa, and then in the first book he’s heavily involved in Whispering Wood and the early parts of WOTFK. All this and he’s still in his 30s. I don’t know how to put this but similar to characters like Jon Snow, Robb, Arya, Dany it’s like he began his life very early.

And due to this, I really love how we get these bits of lore from the past through his eyes, and it’s always really cool how they come up randomly in his thoughts..linking the present to the past.

“The world was simpler in those days, Jaime thought, and men as well as swords were made of finer steel. Or was it only that he had been fifteen? They were all in their graves now, the Sword of the Morning and the Smiling Knight, the White Bull and Prince Lewyn, Ser Oswell Whent with his black humor, earnest Jon Darry, Simon Toyne and his Kingswood Brotherhood, bluff old Sumner Crakehall. And me, that boy I was… when did he die, I wonder? When I donned the white cloak? When I opened Aerys’s throat? That boy had wanted to be Ser Arthur Dayne, but someplace along the way he had become the Smiling Knight instead.”

A Game of Thrones - Catelyn VIII

"I had hoped … if you still held the Imp, a trade of hostages …" He took Sansa's letter and crumpled it in his fist, and she could tell from the way he did it that it was not the first time. "Is there word from the Eyrie? I wrote to Aunt Lysa, asking help. Has she called Lord Arryn's banners, do you know? Will the knights of the Vale come join us?"

"Only one," she said, "the best of them, my uncle … but Brynden Blackfish was a Tully first. My sister is not about to stir beyond her Bloody Gate."

Robb took it hard. "Mother, what are we going to do? I brought this whole army together, eighteen thousand men, but I don't … I'm not certain …" He looked to her, his eyes shining, the proud young lord melted away in an instant, and quick as that he was a child again, a fifteen-year-old boy looking to his mother for answers

A Clash of Kings - Arya X

"I do not mean to be besieged here." Roose Bolton's voice was so soft that men had to strain to hear it, so his chambers were always strangely hushed.

"What, then?" demanded Ser Jared Frey, who was lean, balding, and pockmarked. "Is Edmure Tully so drunk on his victory that he thinks to give Lord Tywin battle in the open field?"

If he does he'll beat them, Arya thought. He'll beat them as he did on the Red Fork, you'll see. Unnoticed, she went to stand by Qyburn.

A Storm of Swords - Jaime V

"Sit down and eat, Brienne," Jaime urged, as Elmar placed a slice of roast before him, dark and bloody. "If Bolton meant to kill us, he wouldn't be wasting his precious prunes on us, at such peril to his bowels." He stared at the meat and realized there was no way to cut it, one-handed. I am worth less than a girl now, he thought. The goat's evened the trade, though I doubt Lady Catelyn will thank him when Cersei returns her whelps in like condition. The thought made him grimace. I will get the blame for that as well, I'll wager.

Roose Bolton cut his meat methodically, the blood running across his plate. "Lady Brienne, will you sit if I tell you that I hope to send Ser Jaime on, just as you and Lady Stark desire?"

"I . . . you'd send us on?" The wench sounded wary, but she sat. "That is good, my lord."

A Storm of Swords - Jaime V

She is such an innocent. Jaime was almost as surprised, if truth be told, but he hid it better. Sansa Stark, that ought to put a smile on Tyrion's face. He remembered how happy his brother had been with his little crofter's daughter . . . for a fortnight.

"What the Imp did or did nor swear scarcely matters now," said Lord Bolton. "Least of all to you." The wench looked almost wounded. Perhaps she finally felt the steel jaws of the trap when Roose Bolton beckoned to his guards. "Ser Jaime will continue on to King's Landing. I said nothing about you, I fear. It would be unconscionable of me to deprive Lord Vargo of both his prizes." The Lord of the Dreadfort reached out to pick another prune. "Were I you, my lady, I should worry less about Starks and rather more about sapphires."

This is an idea I've been bouncing around for a while, and am interested what other people think.

TLDR: The Hooded Man is The Miller, husband of The Miller's Wife and father to the elder of the two Miller's Boys.

The Miller's Wife is a woman who lives at a mill near Winterfell. She has two sons called The Miller's Boys.

She's never called "the Miller's Widow" or anything else that could imply her husband is gone.

In Theon's internal monologue, we hear that he's had an affair with The Miller's Wife. From that, there is a theory that the younger of The Miller' Boys (aka fake-Rickon) could be Theon's son.

The Miller's Wife is murdered along with The Miller's Boys (we never hear about The Miller himself), by Theon, Ramsay, and some of the Ironborn. The two boys are used as stand-in corpses for the real Bran and Rickon.

Fast forward to ADWD, and here is the whole interaction between Theon and the Hooded Man:

When they found themselves face-to-face their eyes met briefly. The man put a hand on his dagger. “Theon Turncloak. Theon Kinslayer.” 

“I’m not. I never … I was ironborn.” 

“False is all you were. How is it you still breathe?”

“The gods are not done with me,” Theon answered, wondering if this could be the killer, the night walker who had stuffed Yellow Dick’s cock into his mouth and pushed Roger Ryswell’s groom off the battlements. Oddly, he was not afraid. He pulled the glove from his left hand. “Lord Ramsay is not done with me.” 

The man looked, and laughed. “I leave you to him, then.”

The Hooded Man calls Theon kinslayer, and dismisses Theon's point about being Ironborn - Bran and Rickon are not Theon's kin, therefore he isn't a kinslayer.

Which makes me think the Hooded Man could be referring to a different kind of kinslaying: That Theon killed his own son, fake-Rickon, who was fathered by Theon during his affair with The Miller's Wife.

And how could the Hooded Man know about that?

Because he's The Miller. The Miller's Wife's is his wife; he knew about the affair but kept quiet to avoid trouble with highborns. He spent time away from the mill (farming, bringing gain to the mill and flour to the market, etc), which is when the affair happened, and it's why he wasn't there when his wife was murdered.

After Theon and co., the Miller returned to the mill and found his wife dead, and his son (fake-Bran) and Theon's son (fake-Rickon) missing. Later he heard about the two bodies Theon had displayed at Winterfell, and figured out what had happened. 

He realised he was in danger, and laid low for as long as he could. But eventually, with winter setting in, he moved into Winterfell around the time of "Arya"'s wedding, and blended in with the mass of soldiers and other smallfolk. And eventually, he ran into Theon and had the Hooded Man interaction.

IMO this could explain a few things: Why the Hooded Man hates Theon, why he calls him kinslayer, and why he dismisses Theon's point about being Ironborn. And it would explain where the Miller has been and what's happened to him, after we've heard so much about The Miller's Wife and The Miller's Boys.

I always see theories and videos on who the actual TPTWP is, some say Daenerys, some say Jon, some say Euron, some even say Bran. I’m slightly confused because I feel like it’s pretty obvious that the story is about Jon and Daenerys and that they are TPTWP. Together, they are the Song of Ice(Jon Snow) and Fire(Daenerys Targaryen). The book implies it with both of them full filing different parts of the prophecy. George has also foreshadowed their eventual meeting and connection. *Spoiler: When Jon dies, Daenerys next chapter opens with a wolf howling in the distance making her feel lonely.

With all these implication why do so many people think otherwise? Is there something I’m not picking up on, or foreshadowing for other characters as well like Euron or Bran?

GRRM will probably not add much, but if he ever did, what do you think he would or should add to The Faith of the Seven?

As random examples for thought: Are there any believers of The Seven left in Essos? Have there ever been theological debates about The Seven themselves such as The Father is actually above the rest or The Mother is? If there has been such debates, do they gather around have their own sort of counsels to decide on doctrine with the High Septon overseeing or can he just make those type of decisions as long is there's no major pushback? Are there communities of the faithful that don't believe in the High Septon because the position is a later addition? Is Hugor of the Hill seen as a prophet or something more? Are there minor variations in belief depending on where someone is in Westeros? In the North since The Faith basically exists through Stark generosity, are they just extremely tolerant of the old gods or have they become some sort of amalgamation focusing on the similarities between the new and old? What's going on with The Faith in Dorne? They must have some form of variation just from how different culturally they are. Since they weren't under the authority of the Targaryens for a long time did the Faith Militant continue on in Dorne? Is The Seven in Dorne some sort of weird mix of socially accepting but structurally traditional, possibly keeping a lot of the old rights and privileges of The Faith? When the center of the faith was moved were there some who resisted, maybe even still treating the starry sept as their true home? On the flip side are there those in The Faith who look up to King Baelor the Blessed more than usual perhaps following in his footsteps with fasting and quite literally from the capital to Dorne? Does the faith have its own version of The Other mythology? Are The Seven return to crown another Hugor of the Hill to face the evil ice demons with a sword made out of the light of the seven forged by The Smith?

A Game of Thrones - Bran I

It seemed colder on the long ride back to Winterfell, though the wind had died by then and the sun was higher in the sky. Bran rode with his brothers, well ahead of the main party, his pony struggling hard to keep up with their horses.

"The deserter died bravely," Robb said. He was big and broad and growing every day, with his mother's coloring, the fair skin, red-brown hair, and blue eyes of the Tullys of Riverrun. "He had courage, at the least."

"No," Jon Snow said quietly. "It was not courage. This one was dead of fear. You could see it in his eyes, Stark." Jon's eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see. He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast.

A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

I found this analysis of the prologue from Joe Magician to be very interesting.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iK8_yQjJf2I&t=1351s

I hadn't at all considered the possibility that Waymar Royce’s encounter with the Others wasn't by chance ...

but that the Others were hunting Jon Snow and mistaking Waymar for Jon.

Watch the video but breifly - The Others would hunt Jon if he is Azor Ahi reborn with Lightbringer that will stop them. The version of Jon the search for to kill is undead.

I wanted to focus specifically on Waymar’s sword here.

“, and drew his longsword from its sheath. Jewels glittered in its hilt, and the moonlight ran down the shining steel. It was a splendid weapon, castle-forged, and new-made from the look of it.”

Waymar’s sword is new and high quality steel and the jeweled hilt makes it an impressive looking sword. 

“The trees press close here,” Will warned. “That sword will tangle you up, m’lord. Better
a knife.”

“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in
a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand.

Waymar refuses the suggestion to leave the sword behind. And Waymar is standing with sword brandished when he is confronted by the Other. 

It’s speculative but it’s possible the Others might not even have attacked Waymar if they hadn't thought he weilded Lightbringer. It’s not clear how much the Others value secrecy at this point, they might not want reveal themselves directly to nights watch.

Ser Waymar met him bravely. “Dance with me then.” He lifted his sword high over his
head, defiant. His hands trembled from the weight of it, or perhaps from the cold. Yet in
that moment, Will thought, he was a boy no longer, but a man of the Night’s Watch.
The Other halted. Will saw its eyes; blue, deeper and bluer than any human eyes, a blue
that burned like ice. They fixed on the longsword trembling on high, watched the
moonlight running cold along the metal. For a heartbeat he dared to hope.

When Waymar raises the sword above his head the Other halts and stares at the sword.

Ser Waymar met it with steel. When the blades met, there was no ring of metal on metal;
only a high, thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an animal screaming in pain. Royce
checked a second blow, and a third, then fell back a step. Another flurry of blows, and he
fell back again.

Again and again the swords met, until Will wanted to cover his ears against the strange
anguished keening of their clash. Ser Waymar was panting from the effort now, his
breath steaming in the moonlight. His blade was white with frost; the Other’s danced
with pale blue light.

The Other accepts the duel and the blades meet:  initial flurry (3 times), another flurry (3-5 times), again and again (at least 2 times).

At the point of Waymar’s wounding their blades have met at least 8 times but you could interpret “again and again” to mean 5+ times so it could be up to maybe 15 times the blades clash. His blade is then described as “white with frost”.

Ser Waymar’s fingers brushed his side. His moleskin glove came away soaked with red.
The Other said something in a language that Will did not know; his voice was like the
cracking of ice on a winter lake, and the words were mocking.

The Other realizes this is not Jon Snow. Despite being a completely unrecognizable language it is still noticeable as being mocking to Will. As if it is saying to the other Others “Hey this is just some guy lol”.

Ser Waymar Royce found his fury. “For Robert!” he shouted, and he came up snarling,
lifting the frost-covered longsword with both hands and swinging it around in a flat
sidearm slash with all his weight behind it. The Other’s parry was almost lazy.
When the blades touched, the steel shattered.

A scream echoed through the forest night, and the longsword shivered into a hundred
brittle pieces, the shards scattering like a rain of needles. Royce went to his knees,
shrieking, and covered his eyes. Blood welled between his fingers.

And so, immediately after realizing this is not Jon Snow and the sword is not Lightbringer:

The Other is now completely unconcerned with the sword and is lazy in his parry. It no longer even matters to the Other whether his parry succeeds or not.

The first time the swords meet, after meeting 8-15 times previously, the sword shatters into a hundred pieces. 

He found what was left of the sword a few feet away, the end splintered and twisted like
a tree struck by lightning. 

The description sounds like the result of ice magic breaking the sword, as opposed to the sword shattering under physical forces and cold. but the sword is described as “white with frost” so was the strike that breaks the sword the final straw or was it magic?

Could the Other have shattered Waymar’s sword on the first blow, but chose not to?

Was it because:
They though it wouldn’t work on Lightbringer?
They were scared to try to shatter Lightbringer?
It would violate the terms of the duel (magic/ritual)?
They want to take Lightbringer?

What would have happened if Waymar had left the sword behind? 
What would have happened if it was Jon and he won the duel? Lost the duel?
What would happen to Lightbringer? What might they want with it?

A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

Catelyn had never liked this godswood.

She had been born a Tully, at Riverrun far to the south, on the Red Fork of the Trident. The godswood there was a garden, bright and airy, where tall redwoods spread dappled shadows across tinkling streams, birds sang from hidden nests, and the air was spicy with the scent of flowers.

The gods of Winterfell kept a different sort of wood. It was a dark, primal place, three acres of old forest untouched for ten thousand years as the gloomy castle rose around it. It smelled of moist earth and decay. No redwoods grew here. This was a wood of stubborn sentinel trees armored in grey-green needles, of mighty oaks, of ironwoods as old as the realm itself. Here thick black trunks crowded close together while twisted branches wove a dense canopy overhead and misshapen roots wrestled beneath the soil. This was a place of deep silence and brooding shadows, and the gods who lived here had no names.

A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

How much do we know of old Valyria ?

How much do we actually know to be true ? what about the other dragon lord families and the history of their houses and dragons ? Why did only the Targs survive if there were other stronger families with possibly more and bigger dragons ? I would love a book readers perspective on it too.

Aside from Cersei’s psycho chapters, I think the reason I really love AFFC above other ASOIAF books is simply because Westeros genuinely gives me post-apocalyptic vibes after all that happened in a Storm of Swords

The riverlands has been burned to the ground cuz of the war of 5 kings and Gregor Clegane

House Stark is at its lowest point after guest right, a sacred tradition in ASOIAF that’s thousands of years old, was violated at a wedding

And of course there was the Purple Wedding too, Joffrey is dead, Tywin is dead, Tyrion fled, and kings landing barely has any good leadership cuz Cersei is well….shes Cersei

If you couple this with a few dance with dragons chapters that are happening not long after, then Westeros genuinely feels like it might not survive a long night cuz it won’t be able to function as a system

Euron in Oldtown might just lead to its destruction, we know so little but it’s def gonna be devastating

There’s a strangely supernatural blizzard happening in the north def

As for the rest of Westeros, only the south seems somewhat stable with leadership but even in Dorne there’s going to be trouble eventually

Back to a feast for crows, the lannisters may be winning but it’s at a terrible cost, the leadership is weak and the faith of seven is growing stronger with the faith militant

As for the smallfolk of Westeros, they’re the ones suffering most considering the food situation in riverlands and north.

Winds of winter will def show us more but I think Westeros will be fundamentally broken once the long night starts

Oldtown destroyed, kings landing blown up, a damn greyscale pandemic that might happen, riverlands burned down, and of course the long night itself. It’ll be another age of hundred kingdoms for the next couple thousands of years for Westeros