The Low Point is the Point: Gwyn Berdara is Primed for Her FMC Era
I’ve been seeing increasing takes over the past few weeks that Gwyn could never be a primary main character in an ACOTAR novel. And it’s honestly got to the point where I have to get my thoughts out in response to this for my own sanity. I’m officially on spring break today before my kiddos are … so I’ve got nothing but time today, friends! 🤓 If you intend to read all of this, my apologies in advance. I think this is my longest meta post. 😅
Anyway, I’ve seen arguments stating that Gwyn is only a “side character,” that she doesn’t have “FMC energy,” or that she only exists to support Nesta’s narrative and serves no real purpose moving forward.
And I just … I don’t understand how, when taking into consideration the entire scope of ACOSF, you can look at everything we are given pertaining to Gwyn ON PAGE and disregard the groundwork that SJM is laying. What is unique about Gwyn is that she is truly given her own starting arc within one novel—and we see it all unfold through Nesta and Cassian.
We: meet her; get to know her and her backstory; wonder about her heritage; see her importance to other established characters; and watch her growth lead into challenge … which, in turn, leads to a stark low point for her.
So, I argue that it’s disingenuous to say that Gwyn is solely in the narrative to support Nesta as a character. While Gwyn certainly does that, she also sets an awful lot of the plot into motion and is directly tied to important narrative details moving forward.
However, more crucially, I think that some readers believe that because of how Gwyn is described in the final chapter of ACOSF (going back to the library) that her arc is now over and we will only continue to see her in a background capacity moving forward. And I couldn’t disagree with this more.
Gwyn’s LOW POINT IS THE POINT.
And to put it more specifically, it’s an inflection point for her character, and it’s meant to stand out to the reader. All that growth we saw from her? It’s devastating to hear at the end of ACOSF that she’s lost that momentum. My friends, that’s not an end point to her story at all … instead, it’s a starting point for what’s to come. Gwyn is primed and ready to be a protagonist because of it.
FIRST OFF, GWYN IS NOT A SIDE CHARACTER
There seems to be some overlapping use of the terms “side character” and “secondary character,” and although I understand what most readers are getting at when they use them interchangeably, the terms actually mean different things.
Side characters serve a more functional role … they exist to serve specific plot functions or to shine a light on aspects of the protagonist’s situation; but they have no real independent arc of their own and we don’t usually know too much about their interior life.
Perfect examples of this: Alis and the wraith twins. Their appearances are episodic rather than developmental, and we do not see them necessarily grow or change in ways the narrative truly tracks.
And, more crucially, nothing about “side characters” is left unresolved in a way that signals forward narrative momentum. When side characters are absent or disappear altogether, there is no oath unfulfilled to the reader, no tension deferred, etc.
Gwyn just doesn’t fit this description. I’ll talk more about this to come, but her characterization and her arc are left entirely interrupted, unresolved, and deferred. That should be a flashing neon sign of an indicator that this character is more than a passing side character who only serves a functional role.
The term “secondary character” (or “supporting character”) would be a more apt description for Gwyn, which can also encompass so many great characters from all of SJM’s series, many of whom do get their own POV and protagonist spotlights. Secondary characters are crucial to the narrative, they are consistently present, and they can influence the primary plot. In ACOSF, you could make the argument that Gwyn is the most prominent secondary character due to her frequency, narrative weight, and crucial moments to the plot.
One useful way to look at this is that Gwyn drives the plot through her own agency—meaning, things aren’t just happening to her. (This is also a useful tool for examining other secondary characters who aren’t very present in ACOSF in general).
Gwyn’s arc is also the most complete in ACOSF outside of Nesta’s and Cassian’s arcs. There is a measurable progression from one internal state to another to the final image.
And while it’s easy to argue that “Gwyn is only there to serve Nesta’s arc,” that claim completely disregards what Gwyn actually does on the page.
A character who exists solely to serve another character’s arc does not:
Drive the plot through her own research and initiative
Introduce the central, organizing mythology of the Valkyrie training arc
Become the first Valkyrie reborn
Receive several moments of larger forces and/or fate watching her
Deliver the novel’s most thematically resonant speech about refusing the safe road
Win the Blood Rite as the first non-Illyrian
Become a Carynthian with the help of her chosen sibling (like Rhysand)
Appear in a bonus chapter in which she is the lasting image
Every single one of these things is active, not passive. Gwyn is not a mirror held up to reflect Nesta’s growth … she is crucial to Nesta, but Gwyn is also a character whose own growth has its own trajectory, its own climactic moments, and its own (now unresolved) threads.
GWYN IS THE POSTER CHILD FOR NARRATIVE DEFERRAL
This is, in my opinion, the biggest indicator that Gwyn’s arc has been deliberately set up, crafted, and left incomplete … to be picked up immediately within the next ACOTAR installment(s).
Well, SJM has given us two Gwyns in direct contrast with each other … within the SAME text. Not over the course of 4-5 novels; but within one, single novel. To me, as a reader and someone who loves analyzing story structure and craft, this screams that Gwyn’s arc is jockeying for immediate attention.
The Gwyn who declares she will not take the safe road, who has been broken and survived and refuses to be broken again, and who is “tired of” living the library;
And then the Gwyn who returns to the library after the Blood Rite and “might” go to her sister’s mating ceremony.
That contrast is structurally placed by the author. SJM loves parallels, and she loves taking her protagonists to a stark low point before getting their individual stories. If you have read CRESCENT CITY or THRONE OF GLASS, you of course know this. Even if you haven’t, think of Feyre at the start of ACOMAF or Nesta in ACOFAS. That’s exactly what I’m talking about.
When an author brings a character to a blazing high point and then deliberately pulls them back … and then makes sure the reader sees that pullback … it is meant to signal that we are nowhere near closure and, instead, the story is truly starting. It is a SETUP. It’s the narrative equivalent of drawing back a bowstring. The tension is visible and ready to let loose, but the release hasn’t happened yet.
This can be a form of NARRATIVE DEFERRAL in storytelling: the deliberate postponement of a character’s full resolution, signaled clearly enough that the reader/viewer understands the story is not finished and is only just paused before letting the arrow fly.
We see this anytime a story provides enough closure to satisfy the demands of the current story’s arc while deliberately leaving visible threads unresolved. In Gwyn’s case, the contrast between her speech at Ramiel and her eventual return to the library is too stark to be accidental, and its placement in the closing chapter is too deliberate to be anything other than an intentional setup. The architecture of the narrative is practically screaming, “Gwyn’s story is not over!”
HOW DO WE KNOW THAT’S REALLY WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE?
Well, SJM is not the first storyteller to utilize this. Not only can we juxtapose Gwyn’s speech before Ramiel against the final moments of ACOSF (which I’ll do momentarily) to highlight this … but this is not some unheard of literary device or narrative technique.
Take a look at The Empire Strikes Back. [*spoilers ahead if for any reason you are looking to go on a Star Wars journey and don’t know what happens*] The film ends with Han frozen in carbonite, the Rebellion is in retreat, and our hero (Luke) has lost his hand and received a devastating revelation about his father. Yes, it’s a cliffhanger. But, more importantly, the audience is given narrative deferral … tension regarding a character whose journey is now paused. What happened to all the training Luke did up until that point? We watched him grow and challenge himself on his path to become a Jedi before rushing off to save his friends and facing an ultimate showdown with Vader to prove how far he has come … only to then be deliberately pulled back to his lowest point.
The low point is the point. The external plot of the film is wrapped up for now (of course there are lingering issues to address); but the final moments of the story are focused on Luke and the emotional promises and character threads for him that are left wholly unfinished and paused.
We also see this at the end of Volume II of The Lord of the Rings. [*LOTR spoiler ahead if you don’t want to know what happens*] At the end of The Two Towers, we end with Frodo captured by Shelob and Sam believing him dead. It’s a devastating false ending, as the protagonist appears to have failed at a critical moment and his companion (one of literature’s greatest “secondary characters” by the way) is alone and overwhelmed. Tolkien ends the volume here deliberately because he understood the deepest narrative tension is not generated by action, but by the space between a character’s lowest point and their eventual emergence from it. The reader then carries that weight into the next volume.
I argue that Gwyn returning to the library at the end of ACOSF is SJM creating that same weight for her readers that they must carry immediately into the next book(s) … the image that sits with you and refuses to feel finished if you are truly invested in that character and consider how different she ends up compared to how we saw her earlier on with her sisters, at training, and (most crucially) at Ramiel.
GWYN’S SPEECH AS A CHARACTER PROMISE
Gwyn’s tense moment at Ramiel with Nesta and Emerie, and her speech that comes before she describes what happened to her at Sangravah, is arguably the most significant piece of character writing that SJM gives Gwyn (which says something because Gwyn has multiple notable moments). So, it’s worth treating it with the same close attention we’d give any pivotal textual moment.
In that case, I decided to treat it like any pivotal textual excerpt that I would use in the classroom. I wanted to isolate it for annotation and closer reading … but I also wanted to juxtapose it with the final moments of ACOSF which show us where Gwyn ends up at her low point. This is exactly what I do with my students to draw special attention to specific patterns or parallels that the author is making, so I think it’s a worthwhile (and fun to me, at least) exercise to engage in where Gwyn is concerned.
I’ll include that close reading annotation below, but by putting these two moments side-by-side, we see that they are in stark contrast … if it wasn’t clear to a reader on an initial reading, it should become evident when placed together. Even if you gave this close reading excerpt below to someone who has not read any ACOTAR books and who has no context, they should be able come to similar conclusions: Gwyn’s character has been pulled back (on page), and all her progress and declarations seem lost—she is at a low point; the bowstring has been pulled. Her progress has been intentionally deferred, but not ended.
And, ultimately, this should raise immediate questions for the reader, especially after reading hundreds of pages where you witness that character’s growth.
Why is she going back to the library?
What do you mean she’s not even sure she’s going to her sister’s mating ceremony?
Will Gwyn be able to fix this?
Again, there should be flashing neon lights here because it is so jarring.
On the left, Gwyn is articulating a personal philosophy and a promise.
“I have been broken once before . . . I survived it. And I will not be broken again.”
This is not the language of a character whose story is over, even before we get to the final chapter of ACOSF. This is an oath. In narrative terms, a character who makes an oath (especially one this explicitly worded and this hard-won) is a character whose story is being opened, and not closed. The oath is a promise to the reader as much as it is to herself.
So when we get to the right-side of the excerpt, and we hear that Gwyn returns to the library despite saying she’s “tired of it” … we immediately should remember her words at Ramiel. These narrative details are in direct opposition of each other.
The character who declared she would not take the safe road is doing exactly that. In the final moments of the novel, we find out that she is back in the safest place she knows. It’s a devastating relapse into a pattern she not so long before explicitly rejected.
It feels like the promise has been left behind … Gwyn’s promise to herself; Gwyn’s promise to her sisters; and Gwyn’s promise to the reader.
Gwyn’s oath is witnessed by Nesta and Emerie, as well as garnering the attention of something larger as the wind also was “whispering, murmuring” as Gwyn spoke. The promise is specific and names her wound directly … it’s also precise enough that the reader can hold her to it.
So when we learn Gwyn is returning to the library, we understand that she isn’t meeting that promise. Something has gone wrong. I wouldn’t argue that she is breaking it, necessarily … or even forgetting it. But as she processes the Blood Rite and possibly all the ways that trauma could be reasserting itself, she returns to what feels safe, even if it is in opposition to that promise. And I think this is doing something really interesting in three different ways:
At the character level: SJM is showing us something about how transformation actually works. It’s usually not linear, and the most important growth a person can do is not often the dramatic breakthrough, but the quieter work of integrating that breakthrough into who they are. Gwyn has had the big moment, but the rest of that internal journey needs to come. That is her remaining story, and I cannot fathom that an author would introduce that and not see it through … otherwise, what’s the point?
At the plot level: SJM is creating conditions for a FMC’s opening situation in a future book. We know that she loves throwing those characters into holes (Feyre trapped; Nesta self-destructing). The library at the end of ACOSF is Gwyn’s hole, and it’s where her story will begin in earnest. It also gives Gwyn a future internal arc that has precise emotional stakes. She is going to have to climb Ramiel again … not literally, but she’s going to have to ask herself the same questions again: Is it living, though? To take the safe road?
At the reader level: SJM is generating a specific emotion that’s a powerful tool in a storyteller’s tool belt. Although like a cliffhanger, it’s something a bit more resonant … a longing for a promise you witnessed being made that you need to see kept. Sam’s promise to Frodo. Luke’s promise to Obi-Wan and to himself. The reader was there at Ramiel with Gwyn and heard the wind murmur. The reader watched Gwyn choose the unclimbable path and fight for it with her sisters. And now the reader is left with a final image of her sitting in the library and is thinking, You said you were done with the safe road. You said it. That feeling of seeing a character not fulfill their own declared potential is a universal part of a hero’s journey. Storytellers use it intentionally, and I believe that’s exactly what we’re seeing here.
If we strip away all the analysis and craft terminology and just ask: What is SJM communicating to her reader with this final image of Gwyn?
The answer is this: SJM is saying that Gwyn’s most important journey has not happened yet.
There is too big of a gap between the first Valkyrie reborn, the oath at Ramiel, the Blood Rite won … and the retreated version of this same character. That gap is SJM communicating with the reader that the story is coming.
And Gwyn’s own question at Ramiel is not going anywhere. In fact, I think it’s likely the thesis of her own arc in her forthcoming book(s):
Is it living, though? To take the safe road?
And let’s be real for a minute. The answer to that question for Gwyn is not going to come in the final paragraphs of someone else’s book. It will be resolved in her own.
