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stormhearty · 4 months

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Death's Magic

Note: This is an idea that I’ve had for awhile, though the original idea had a merge with the World of Harry Potter, I thought it might have been better and easier to just keep it in the world of ACOTAR but change up a few things. please do forgive if I have some wrong information, I have only read up to ACOWAR. This scene is based on chapter 58-59 of A Court of Mist and Fury when Velaris was attacked by the Attor-like creatures. Also, I wrote this in Notion and decided to put it in Word to see how long it was — it was 5+ pages and I was like wow.

Summary: When the truth of your powers is revealed to your bonded mates, Eris and Rhysand, and your Court, histories are exposed, insecurities are talked about. But you know… all you know despite the navigating that your mates will always be with you.

Word Count: 3k

Triggers: death, fighting, insecurities

Parings: Eris x Death!Reader x Rhysand (feat. Night Court characters)

“You will never know how that child’s feels…” Armen growled, silver eyes glowing as she glared at the two lords that held her lady. Eyes shifted from the two males, that was bonded to the female that was at the center of everything, those silver eyes shifted from pure anger to something softer — something that was rarely seen with the ancient being. Eris brought you closer to his arms, as he watched Rhysand’s hand gently caress your brows, the two of them hoping you’d wake up to explain what had happened in the span of twenty-four hours.

It had been a long day for everyone in that room — the attack on Velaris by the Attor by Hybern, shook everyone to their core. None of them thought that the King would be able to break through the shields that surrounded the city; however, he did and almost plunged their home into destruction. Cassian and Azriel were barely able to winnow to the city on time to try to defend it. Mor had been away on official business while Armen was with Varian at the Autumn Court with Eris to try to convince Eris’ father to fight against Hybern. Velaris’ High Lord was on a search, attempting to find Myriam and Drakon to help with the looming threat that is Hybern. It had left the city vulnerable, the King believing it was an easy attempt to wipe out its growing enemy without its High Lord and protectors. However, it was futile, unaware of the shadow and darkness that lingered there — that you had stayed behind to quietly protect the city.

When you had been introduced by Armen to the Inner Circle, you were a person of mysterious origin — the Inner Circle very wary about you, for a very good reason. The only reason why you were able to stay in Valeris was because of Armen. She was able to find you a place to stay in the outskirts of the city, accompanying you to every Inner Circle meeting and staying by your side while you had adjusted to your new life. Whenever Rhysand had inquired about you — your history, your origin, you in general, Armen had become over-protective — silencing the Night Court Lord with just a glare.

“Her past is something I cannot share. She has her own darkness, that she has to hide to live with us in the light. Do not inquire anymore than you should. She is loyal, that is the only thing you should know about her,” was the only thing that Armen would ever share.

You had accompanied him and the Inner Circle — as the substitute of Armen when the ancient being was busy or reluctant of accompanying the group to another Court. You had been nothing but a whisp of shadow during those times, similar to Azriel, hiding within the shadows, watching over those who lived in the light.

One day when you had accompanied Rhysand to the Autumn Court to visit its High Lord. Another attempt to convince the Vanserra Lord to rally against Hybern. When the two of you had stepped into the massive throne room, you were greeted by the eldest Vanserra son. The three of you looked at one another before you felt a snap against your chest.

You pressed a gloved hand against your chest, it was an unusual feeling for you; however, you watched as the High Lord and the High Lord heir collapse onto their knees, feeling on how strong that snap was against their chest.

Brows furrowed as you watched them in confusion — their panting, and their equal amount of confusion as they looked at each other before turning to you, violet and amber eyes staring at you. Silence surrounded the three of you, and a heartbeat later, the two of them stood up, slowly surrounding you. Tilting your head up to look at the two, confusion still evident in your features, “… Are you two alright?” you voiced.

Apparently you had no idea what had just transpired, and the only thing that had to be said was, “… You are our mate…”

It had been a long, winding road for Eris and Rhysand to accept that they shared a mate. It was difficult… you rarely opened up to either of them, it was a slow tedious thing, and Eris was rarely available to grow the mating bond with you. The three of you had to meet in secret to ensure the safety of this bond. The bond had made both males over protective and Rhysand understood why Armen was so, over you. Both of them could feel the obscurity on your side of the bond, them understand that you had no idea what it had meant to be in a Cauldron-blessed bond. It took a lot on both their end to figure you out, open you up to the point you trusted them, and in turn, trust you.

By the time Rhysand had winnowed to the House of Wind where the Attor had been successful in infiltrating, the High Lord had found you — your delicate stature fighting against the Attor. Magic fighting against magic, anything that Attor tried to use against you would bounce off the glimmering shield of darkness that surrounds you. Rhysand watched you, your movement swift and smooth, much like the creature you fought; as if you were the wind itself, you were shadow itself. He felt the air move around him, feeling his brothers and the rest of the Inner Court arriving, watching the scene fold in front of them. Rhysand watched as Armen arrive with Varian in toe, eyes widening slightly as he saw Eris arrive along with them. Eris moved, fighting against the wind that swirled around the throne room towards the High Lord of Night Court, towards his mate. Eris placed a hand on Rhysand’s shoulder, a movement of support as they locked eyes for a moment before looking back at the fight — back to the third of their mating bond — towards you.

All of them watched as a slender hand reached above, magic pulsating around them as another wind of glimmer and darkness wafted through the air — growing wider and bigger. Rhysand watched as that shield surrounded not only him but his family and soon his whole home. Eyes looking out the window to see a swarm of Attor-like creatures, flying towards the open balcony, attempt to enter the House of Wind, only to be stopped by the barrier. The magic preventing the destruction of his home.

A high shrill scream returned his attention to the action, Rhysand’s body entering into fight mode. Violet eyes looked back at fight, watching as your figure was enshroud by a shadow, one that grew large until it was large enough to reach the ceiling of the throne room. Cloaked in black robes, hood drawn over its head — a creature much like the Attor itself, much like the Suriel, something similar to the Bone Carver in the Prison, to the Weaver in the Middle — but they knew that this creature was nothing like the previous, it was something darker… something more powerful. They watched as the shadow extended its hand, a hand — nothing but bone and tendon exposed, pointing its long bony finger towards the Attor, who had knelt on its knees, bony prominences pressed against the marble floor — panting, blood and sweat clinging onto its cloak as if it was apart of it. When that bony finger touched the top of its head, another scream tore from the Attor’s throat, its body disintegrating into nothing but ash.

The air stilled, and the shadow faded away, leaving your figure in its wake. Time seemed to pause as they watch you tilt your head slightly before turning their direction. When your eyes — dark as the night sky, dark as black locked eyes with him before drifting to Eris’ by his side. You had given them a soft smile, eyes squinting into crescents their names nothing but a whisper against your lips before you body collapsed onto the floor.

Eris was the first one to come out of the stupor, his body immediately running towards yours. He skidded onto his knees as he heaved your body into his arms, a hand against your cheek to try to wake you up. Rhysand was hot on his heels, kneeling on the other side of your figure, sharp talons against you mind, trying to probe through the darkness that had shrouded your mind.

That is where it landed you now. The Inner Court at the Townhouse, your body still in Eris’ arms as both High Lords tried to interrogate the ancient being to tell why you had not woken up. Armen did not tell them anything, her stubbornness tenfold when it came to you; but it was hesitant now, knowing that the males that held you would stop at anything to ensure your safety.

A heartbeat of silence surrounded the room before Armen sighed.

“I pray the Mother would forgive me…” she muttered before she steeled herself against the stares of her family, “(Y/N)… is a God Made into a High Fae. When I had escaped the Prison, she was standing outside, an empty shell. I didn’t know what kind of God she was but she was lost as I and, that, immediately made us stick to each other. I had adapted faster to this world that she did, and so I kept her hidden while I became part of this world — part of your Court. I looked, looked into books, looked into the past, talked with the Gods of Old in the Prison to find out what she was…”

Eyes looked from Rhysand and Eris, to your form that was resting soundly in their arms.

“… She is Death itself. Death reincarnate. The Bone Carver, the Attor, the Suriel all made in her likeness… or what she used to be. The reason why she couldn’t… assimilate easily as I do was because she was never even part of this world originally. And so when that bond snapped between the three of you, I was surprised.”

Rhysand and Eris glanced at each other, remembering that moment when it was revealed to Armen that they were your mates. The surprise and hesitance in her features — it all made sense. You were a God and they were Cauldron-bound to you. You were as old, even older than Prythian itself. And yet you were mated to the two of them.

Armen shrugged, another sigh escaped her lips. Varian wrapped an arm around her shoulders, comforting her, “She was like a child, lost in this world. She didn’t know of her powers, it sometimes leaked out of her… You all have seen it.”

And they have, the flittering of shadows and darkness. Everyone had thought originally it was from Azriel — lights flickering when you were angry, shadows and night seeped out of your fingertips when you were training with Cassian. And all unknown to you.

“She has been trying to figure out herself, figure out her powers… She doesn’t know how to use it to her full conscious. Both of us have tried to rein in her powers, make it fully under her control.”

“… So what happened earlier?” Azriel questioned from his position in the corner of the room, his tone tight, “That thing that she had summoned that disintegrated the Attor.” The shadowsinger wasn’t mad, he was more frustrated than anything — they were your family, and yet you hid this part of you from them.

Another shrug from Armen, “I’ve tried to read… read anything concerning her. That thing I am unsure of. All I could think of —”

“The Grim…”

Eyes snapped towards your form, Eris and Rhysand looked down at you as you started to awaken. Apparently, you knew what they were talking about.

“It’s called the Grim…” you opened your eyes, your eye color back to normal — not the black color they had seen after the battle, but your own, ‘…A servant of Death itself.”

“(Y/N), Darling…” Rhysand breathed, as he kneeled in front of you as Eris shifted your form in his arms so that Rhysand could hold your cheeks, assessing you, ensuring you were unharmed. While Eris pressed his lips against the crown of your head, muttering, “Thank the Mother…”

A small smile tugged at your lips, feeling the bond tugged at both ends from your mates, eyes fluttering close as you let a wave of assurance down the bond. It had taken awhile for you to get used to using it to give comfort to both males, and longer for you to accept any sort of feeling from their end.

Once hands were off of you, Eris helped you to sit on the couch, large hands from both of your mates steadying you as you looked back at Armen. Your eyes staring into her silver ones, unvoiced betrayal in your look — Armen had promised to never let anyone know of what you were — and yet here she was, exposing your history. She let out a whimper, her way of apologizing to you before Varian wrapped her in his arms.

Silence again filled the room before the shuffling of feet. You had assumed that Rhysand had asked for everyone to leave, leaving you with your two mates. You took a breath, in and out, trying to rein in whatever you were feeling at the moment — you didn’t know what to feel.

Sure, you were exhausted, the fight with the Attor depleted your magic. You had not only protected yourself but the whole of Velaris with your magic. That you could deal with, but not this raw emotion of betrayal from your friend. Deep down, you knew that Armen only did what was necessary, to ease the tension in the room — to try to explain what had happened with you and the Attor hours before — to prove that you belonged there with them. That you were not a threat, that you were not an enemy to the Night Court. You knew that. You would talk to Armen properly later.

No matter how many centuries had passed, you were still figuring out your powers… still figuring out yourself. Today was another thing you’d have to figure out… and you wondered if, now, you have to figure it out yourself.

A tug at the golden string in your chest made you look up, staring at the violet hues of the third of your mate. Rhysand had looked at you were such worry, brows furrowed as he assessed you, a caress of your mental shields from his end. Another tug at that string made you look up at Eris, a similar look of worry sat on his face. You took another breath, one that shuddered through your figure before you reached out, both hands extended, to your mates only to pause in midair.

They were tainted with black, as if your fingertips were necrotized, as if the darkness lingered on you. A frown tugged on your lips, as you assessed them, retracting them slightly as if afraid to touch your mates with such hands. Hands were immediately on your wrist, your right in Rhysand’s and your left in Eris’, as you watched both of them press your hands against their chest, showing that you weren’t going to hurt them.

“…I’m sorry…” you slowly apologized, not even sure of what you were apologizing about. Was it the fact that you withheld your past from them? Or was it just the need to apologize to them.

You heard twin sighs before you felt identical kisses on the top of your head and that alone wrecked your body into another strong shudder, tears lining your eyes. You didn’t want to not tell them about you, you just… you couldn’t. You didn’t even know what you were, you didn’t know the extent of your powers.

“Is that the reason why you never told us? Even after the bond made itself known?” Rhysand asked, as he pulled away to look at you with a raised brow, “That you were Death? That you didn’t know yourself nor your powers?”

All you could do was nod your head, teeth biting into lower lip, as if you were a child being reprimanded, “… I was trying to figure it out,” you started off, fingers bunching at both of their shirts, to try to ground yourself to at the moment, eyes dimming for a moment before returning to the now, “Trying to figure myself out, my powers, to fit into this world. I just felt so…” a shrug lifted your shoulders, “I’m sure Armen told you… I felt lost, out of control. Like I was not here and here at the same time. That my powers had a mind of their own, controlling themselves through me. I just… didn’t know what I was doing.”

Eris and Rhysand always had seen it, how spaced out you were at times. Even with the bond between the three of you, your bond seemed frazzled, and much longer than the one that had connected the two males. They had worked so hard to get to you, to have you be in the moment with them, to be connected to you. And it wasn’t as if you weren’t doing the same, you worked with them… got used to being part of the Court, to be part of something much bigger than yourself — to be part of them. You had opened up to them, slowly but surely. You accepted the bond with much courting from both of the High Lords — many dates, many stolen kisses, many whispers during the night.

But hearing you, sound more vulnerable than you’ve ever been before, even during those moments at night when both Eris and Rhysand had expressed their darkest fears, their worries to you, they had never seen you more powerless.

Fingers slipped from their grip on their shirts, as you brought them back closer to your body, wringing your fingertips as if an attempt to wash off the stained darkness that lingered on your skin, “I also… didn’t want to scare either of you…” you confessed, almost a whisper, “The bond was formed and you two were almost fighting tooth and nail at each other at times —” a chuckle from both of the males made a small smile tug onto your features, “ — All the while ensuring that this bond was going to work. You guys set a lot of your differences aside to…” tears eventually overflowed, “Make sure that I was okay. And yet…”

You felt choked up. They had worked so hard in this bond, and yet… you didn’t even tell them — about who and what you were, you held the truth from them. Insecurities started to build up in you — that you were not meant for this bond, you didn’t deserve to be part of the Night Court… or any other court in that matter… that you weren’t meant to have such amazing mates — High Lords in the matter of a fact.

Your insecurites zip lined through the bond and it smashed towards Rhysand and Eris, and they couldn't help but tear up as well. Eris gently picked you up and back into his lap, strong, secure arms wrapping around your body, letting the bond open wide to provide you comfort and show how much he had loved you. Rhysand mimicked that, showering you with love and attention; reaching out to hold your hands in his.

“Oh sweetheart…” Eris hummed into your hair, pressing kisses on the top of your head, “… You should never be sorry about anything… It had been hard to understand from our side. We wondered on why you withheld such an important piece of yourself away from us; we had thought it was because you never trusted us fully —”

You were about retort up at him, only to have Eris press a kiss on your lips to silence you. He hummed before pulling back to gaze at you.

“— But, now we understand, and we're not going to reprimand you for it. Just know that we love you and, gosh…” a laugh escaped his chest, causing you to blink up at him in surprised, “You would never scare us away, (Y/N)… Not before finding out what you are, and not now, after finding out your Death reincarnate…”

“And…” you heard Rhysand shuffle into his feet before flopping down next to the both of you, taking your form from Eris’ lap and onto his own. Your two mates situated themselves — you on Rhysand’s lap, while your legs laid on Eris’ thighs.

“The thing with your powers… we can figure them out together. We can go to Day Court, ask Helion if they have any books about you and your powers…” he hummed softly, tilting your head up to press a kiss on your lips, “And even if we don't… All three of us will figure it out together..”

You smiled against his lips, nodding your head.

Eris reached over and gently held your chin to tug your lips towards his way, placing his own kiss.

“Can you imagine, Rhys…” The Autumn Heir murmured against your lips, “That our mate is in history books? Her name written for everyone to remember?” He teased, another kiss on your lips.

Rhysand let out a hearty laugh, “Well… she is amazing…”

A soft laugh escaped you as you pulled away from Eris’ lips, one arm wrapped around his shoulder and the other holding Rhysand’s hand that was around your waist.

“Well…” you whispered as you looked at both of them, their eyes shining as they looked at you, “Your names will be right beside mine then… We’ll ask Helion to fix those books…”

Chuckles escaped all three of you, as you remained in their arms, as you basked in the love and care of your two mates.

Even though you are uncertain about the future, the prospect of navigating your powers, you know at least your family and your mates were there to help you every step of the way.

#( .one-shot : death's magic )#acotar x reader #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #rhysand x reader #eris x reader #rhysand x you #eris x you #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fluff #acotar angst

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mask131 · 2 months

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The Tolkienesque Renaissance and the woman-wizard

A long time ago I made a brief post about my personal vision of a certain "Tolkienesque Renaissance" era within English-speaking literature, following/coexisting with the "Tolkien Subversion" era that was formed by Earthsea, Elric, The Black Company and other classics.

It was meant to be the first post in a whole series but I kind of got busy with other things... That being said I do want to make this post about one of the fascinating traits of the Tolkienesque Renaissance. A trait which seems to be overlooked or misunderstood today due to the very polarizing matter and the quick shifts occuring in our societies about this topic, but needs to be highlighted: the gender roles. Well more specifically the gender roles within the magic part of the fantasy world.

In 1985, Terry Pratchett created a talk/article which was forgotten for a given time, until it popped up on the Internet in the 2000s/2010s, and was more recently reprinted in book format (in posthumous anthologies of his talks, articles and essais) and even translated in other languages (the only French translation of this text dates from a few years ago). This text is called "Why Gandalf never married", and it is a very important mini-essay when it comes to the English-speaking fantasy literature because it highlighted very well (and in Pratchett's usual humoristic way) the gender "norms" within the Tolkien-model of fantasy ; but more importantly how this gendered system was carried on, consciously or unconsciously, by other authors in the fantasy genre.

I strongly suggest you go check out the original article, it is disponible for free on several websites, and I won't recap it here. But it made a point that many other analysists and historians of the fantasy genre relayed. The Tolkien model of the magic-use has magic lying within the hands of a men, and escaping the hands of women. In The Lord of the Rings the magic is the domain of the Wizards - which is an order of exclusively male entities. That's the Gandalf of the title. There is no female Wizard in the Tolkienesque world, and the closest thing we get to a female magic user within The Lord of the Rings is Galadriel - but Galadriel is in this specific plotline a secondary character with not as much importance or active power as the likes of Gandalf and Saruman, and she even denies herself that what she does is magic, carefully explaining that Elves merely consider what others call their "magic" advanced craft, technology and skills. Galadriel has the appearance of an enchantress, but in truth is not, and all the true magic relies within the male-only Gandalf.

And this model was carried on into a lot of the fantasy series and novels that followed the publication of The Lord of the Rings, even those that were created specifically to subvert the "Tolkienesque fantasy". In his article, Pratchett ranked alongside Gandalf as the celibate wizard-heroes of male dominance, Ged from Earthsea... by Ursula K. Le Guin, which is an author as far from woman-hating as the Sun is far from Pluto. And yet... Pratchett did point out that in the Earthsea series it is made extremely clear that only men can be true wizards, the "wizarding school" of this setting only teaches men, and when a woman has magical power, she is a secondary and weak witch with only a handful of simple abilities, unable to match any great "true" wizard. Even worse: when a woman actually shows some great talent and manages to challenge or outbeat the wizard... it is because she derives her power from malevolent sources and evil entities. It is true in Earthsea.

Or at least it was true. Indeed, we have to put things back in context: when Pratchett made this analysis, Earthsea was just a trilogy. Not just "a" trilogy, but rather a halted series: Le Guin had written the first three Earthsea books, and she wanted to return to writing more Earthsea but in her own words something felt wrong, she didn't find how to go on, she sense there was a problem with Earthsea though she could not identify what exactly... This is part of why the fourth book of the series was released 18 YEARS after the third. And the exact reason Le Guin was weirded out by her own series is precisely what Pratchett pointed out - and something Le Guin herself had to re-discover within her own work (Now I cannot claim that Pratchett's article actually helped Le Guin see this "gendered flaw" within her own novels, because I have no reliable source about Le Guin reading Pratchett's text or being aware of this talk - but given I heard it had quite an influence upon its release I do think it played a part in it). This is also why Le Guin returned to Earthsea by the late 80s: she had identified the problem in her own work, women were trapped in a gendered system denying them access to "true magic". And from "Tehanu" onward, she worked to - not correct - but improve this worldbuilding fact, for example by pointing out the inherent misogyny of her own world, by explaining the reasons that led to women being excluded of the art of magic, and by revealing that women and men are in fact equal in magic by nature but not by society.

[Note: I do wish to say that it is not an inherently bad or evil thing to have a "gendered" magic system within your fantasy work. The entire point of the fantasy is that you can do everything and anything and explore any possibility. You can have a magic system where only one gender can have magic ; you can have a magic system where spells are bound to a specific age ; you can have magic system where only rocks can perform magic because flesh cannot stand it - in itself, it is not a bad thing... The problem here that Pratchett denounced was how a specific gendered-model of magic bearing misogynistic traits within it was spreading around and becoming an untold law of the fantasy genre, to the point even feminist writers applied it without realizing it.]

Pratchett completed his trio of "male-dominated and somehow misogynistic" magic systems by adding to Gandalf and Ged the figure of Merlin from the Arthurian romances and epics, as one of the main cultural influences of magic within fantasy... but also one of the roots of the unconscious misogyny that was growing within fantasy. Because in the Arthurian world, not only is Merlin the most prominent wizard and enchanter, he is seen as the "source" and "true bearer" of magic, with the two famous Arthurian sorceresses, Viviane and Morgan, being explicitely his students - women learned magic from a man. And not only did they learned it from him, they both used it in a bad and negative way. Morgan to become a wicked witch and the enemy of the heroes ; Viviane to betray her own mentor and trap the wizard forever (with in many versions this being seen as a selfish action, some authors even pushing it as far as making Viviane one of the instruments of the Arthurian downfall). Of course there are very interesting talks, debates and analysis to have about this strange triangle of magic-users - especially since one of Merlin's gifts was prophecy and foresight, and it is implied that he knew what he was doing when he taught these women magic, somehow accepting that his lessons would be used against him and his work... But that's a talk for another day and it doesn't change how it influenced mid-20th century fantasy in a bad way.

As such, from Merlin to Ged passing by Gandalf, Pratchett made this conclusion: in English-speaking fantasy as it existed in the mid 80s, "true" wizards were men, and magic belonged to the male gender. And when a women practiced magic (if they could even practice magic), they were either depicted as weaker and inferior to men, either as evil antagonists corrupting magic or using it for nefarious purposes. Hence "Why Gandalf never married".

This talk is also very important to understand the very origins and building of Pratchett's own brilliant parody-deconstruction-reconstruction of the fantasy genre, his "Discworld" series. In his Discworld books Pratchett prepared several entire plotlines to explain, dissert and explore the gendered cliches and normative stereotypes of magic in fantasy, with the archetype of the male-magic through the Wizards and of the female-magic through the Witches. "Why Gandalf never married" was created in 1985... two years before Discworld's third book "Equal Rites", which is a brilliant parody of these same gender norms as a girl becomes fated to become a Wizard and fights for it, in a cloistered world where women can only hope to be Witches and nothing else.

Now, all of that being said, I return to my point about the Tolkienesque Renaissance. And I will claim that this "movement" actually inherited Pratchett's point or was conscious of it because, interestingly, all these revivals of the classical Tolkien-like fantasy worked very hard to break the gender norms of magic, and have prominent female magic users not depicted as evil. Mind you, they never went as far as Le Guin or Pratchett did in their own work, and in fact several of these works came to be criticized by later generations for being themselves too-gendered, too-cliche, or even misogynistic... However I do believe that it is important to highlight how these works, which might not fit our own modern gender equality or our modern view of women, still were a first step forward, a certain breakthrough, in a fantasy landscape where women were either denied magic or locked withn the "wicked witch" stereotype.

The Fionavar Tapestry series has one of the main female characters becoming The Seer, a benevolent and respected magic user. She is not of the same "type" as the wizards of the setting and lacks a magic as powerful as them, but is still an heroic supernatural character on which the story focuses. There is also an exploration of the gendered norm by having a Council of Mages from which women are lacking (and coming with historical explanations about the role of women in relationship to them) clashing with an all-female order of priestesses of a Great Goddess (a conflict which itself also is echoed by a gendered pantheon of Great Gods and Great Goddesses working in mysterious ways towards each other).

The Belgariad makes a clear effort by "doubling" the typical wizard-mentor into a duo, Belgarath the Sorcerer and Polgara the Sorceress, with Polgara being a powerful magic user equal in strength to Belgarath and working alongside him, but staying a benevolent and heroic character (though there is a dark side to her, from her stern and harsh personality, to a worldbuilding prophetic element about her possibly turning evil).

The Wheel of Time seems to avoid the topic entirely by completely reversing the norm: all magic-users are female, the male magic-users were all wiped out, and if they exist they have to be deprived of power else they will become evil. Now we still have a more nuanced approached in terms of moral since the Aes Sedai mix in one go the all-benevolent Gandalf-like figure with the manipulative and dreaded wicked witch - but the gender treatment and balance within "The Wheel of Time" has been debated and discussed a LOT so I won't go further into this.

Memory, Sorrow and Thorn literaly has a female Gandalf in the character of Geloë - who also has a few elements of Baba-Yaga in her most positive incarnations. There's still a bunch of evil witches throughout the series outgrowing in number the rare positive female magic users, but Geloë stands out as the big powerful helpful witch of the "hero's party".

As I said, these characters are of course not perfect. There are things to be said against them in a more modern light, or they might be judged as not good characters at all... But it doesn't change the fact that Geloë, Polgara and Moiraine are quite important in the history of fantasy as breakers of a system that was imposed by Merlin, Gandalf and Ged - and while they cannot answer the question of "Why Gandalf never married", they are proofs that "Gandalf can be a woman".

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