#i must stress that the rating here is for the gwilin. the meta analysis i did is admittedly much harsher

[priafey]

Gwilin of the Day: "Golden" Gwilin

Today's Gwilin of the day is brought to you by: Thanatopsiturvy on ao3!

Hollow Men

(wowie, this one's title looks really nice in cursive)

Published: Oct 29, 2020

Rated: Mature

Length: ~53,000 words

Featuring: A few OCs, Elenwen, Malborn

Set in: all over tbh; Windhelm, Riften, Ivarstead, the Thalmor Embassy, Skyrim's border with Morrowind, and quite a few places in between

REVIEW

Gwilin will never be the same again, and I have this story to thank.

This time around, I cannot comment on this Gwilin without first touching on the author's OC, Corimir. My heart broke and was put back together about a thousand times for him throughout this story. He was an Altmer prisoner of war, degraded and deprived at the hands of the Stormcloaks, and a slave to the whirlpool of seemingly incorrigible thoughts that enveloped his mind after his rescue, which were rooted in the months of abuse he had endured. Two characters helped keep him from surrendering to this whirlpool; helped him keep his head above water. The first was Elanwe. The second... was Gwilin.

The way we experience this Gwilin is filtered through the lens of Corimir’s extreme prejudice, at first. In his first appearance, he is labeled the “dirty little Bosmer”. A lesser thing. Soon enough, Corimir is the one who is made “lesser”; made to feel small for being so curt and suspect towards the stranger who opened his home and his heart to him. In a mere five days, Gwilin manages to ease Corimir's harsh exterior, to begin to buff out –in dribs and drabs– the mistrust from his tense and restless mind.

In the process, the journey of healing that Corimir began the second he'd stepped foot outside of Windhelm became intertwined with the fondness he felt himself develop for this irresistibly emphatic, almost unbelievably chipper Bosmer. This man was a fountain of patience and kindness, always willing to lend a hand or an ear, even at times when Corimir was more inclined to push the first away, and leave the second swimming in silence.

This Gwilin, though not appearing to be the boldest at first, had his heart set on Corimir from the beginning, and doesn't beat around the bush for long. He is quick to show Corimir that he's caught his eye, and quicker to respect his boundaries when it becomes clear that Corimir is still sifting through the debris in his mind, still cobbling his personhood back together. And when he has to leave Gwilin behind, Gwilin can do little else except bite his tongue, and quietly lament what could've been. And I was right there lamenting with him.

There was a pit in my stomach that grew bigger as the story progressed, product of my feeling Gwilin's absence. Corimir felt it, as well: that enchanting little Bosmer existed only as a gnawing memory in his mind, then, one which which refused to leave his side. How could it? In lieu of his person, Gwilin's memory became Corimir's respite from his nauseating experience touching base with his Thalmor superiors. In moments of quiet, of deafening silence and unbearable stillness, he wanted him to be there. To help fill in the gaps.

One of my favorite things about this story is that, in it, Gwilin is unmistakably queer. In his body language, in his self-expression, in his deeds, in the way he loves. When I first went to read this story and saw the "Trans Character" tag, I thought perhaps Corimir was the character the tag was referencing. Somewhere in Chapter 4, when Corimir and Gwilin are making out and the author dropped the line about Corimir's knee grazing between Gwilin's legs and not feeling much there, I understood Gwilin was the trans character, and became overjoyed. I am constantly thinking about all the beautiful and varied depictions of Gwilin, and I love that what they usually have in common is how understanding they are, and what a ray of light they are to the people in their lives. Queer people especially are rays of light, and to say that I appreciated being able to see a Gwilin who feels so at peace with himself and content about where he is in his life is the understatement of the century.

To balance out those strong emotions is Gwilin's ever-present good humour. Near the end of the story, in Chapter 12, Corimir asks Gwilin about his top scars, and Gwilin responds somewhat nervously –but with the earnest candor I've come to expect from my favorite Gwilins– about his being trans. He's so sincere and affable in the way he goes about it; he could disarm anyone with just the glint of his eyes, I swear.

The only pitfall of this Gwilin was that his sweetness, patience, and perkiness could occasionally drift into the overly-saccharine (though I won’t lie and pretend most everyone wouldn't love to be looked after as Gwilin looks after Corimir). Perhaps seeing Gwilin's patience wear thin at one point or talk more about what Corimir leaving made him feel like would've made it easier for me to connect with his character beyond his pleasing demeanor and his charm.

The only other thing I can think of that seemed off was that in moments where Gwilin's naiveté poked its head in, he had a tendency to come off as rather childlike, which is not a particularly endearing trait for me to detect in a character who's an adult. But that could just be me.

On the whole, there is something to be said about the kind of people who “go the other way”, who –instead of becoming hardened by years of trying to carve out their place in the world– become softer, perhaps sweetened by their wisdom. In this story, within and through everything, that is Gwilin.

Moment that my mind chose to fixate on: I really, really liked the scene where Malborn and Gwilin are speaking Bosmeris and Corimir is just like "I will now be retiring myself from the hut at this time". Also, all descriptions of Gwilin's smiles that were like “Every now and then he’d catch Corimir’s eye and would offer one of those impish little smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners." or “Gwilin laughed and scooted closer, smiling up at him in that impish way.” instantly had me imagining the kind of smile where the eyes do most of the smiling, y’know? And how can you not fall in love with that?

I. Compellingness

Very compelling Gwilin, what with his pinky promises and swishing ponytail and alchemical expertise and all. Something about him is that he speaks in quips; he is rather quippy. But the quips stem from a sort of merry drunkenness he has from living and being alive, so he gets a pass, I suppose. 8/10

II. Swagger

Getting caught admiring someone's beauty while they're asleep and still putting the moves on them? And having them reciprocate? SWAG CITY. 10/10

III. Talent

This Gwilin is a master alchemist, though he’d never call himself such for fear of appearing to put on airs. He's also an excellent caretaker, a chef, and a woodworker (obviously). Overall, a super talented and multifaceted Gwilin with a true love for his craft, and for those he gifts the fruits of his labor to. 10/10

IV. Backstory

Decent amount of backstory bestowed on this Gwilin. He has a good relationship with his mom, apparently, as well as a love for travel, having seen a decent chunk of Tamriel after leaving home at thirty and roaming around for ten years. He had a few Khajiit lovers, as well, and had some tough experiences with the Spinners (who I must confess I do not know much about). Wow. What a worldly Gwilin. 8/10

V. Pleasure of Reading

In this story, the verbless clauses sprinkled throughout were deliciously jarring to read (e.g. “A blanket fluttered down overtop of him, smelling of cedar and woodsmoke. Gwilin’s firm hand on his shoulder.”). Moreover, there were a quite a few interesting bits of grammar and word order usage that were new and unfamiliar to me, but felt very distinctive to the author's style of writing (e.g. “‘What all is in that?’” or “Either way, he’d been too frightened to ask after her.”).

I love how the author clips narration when the final thought of a sentence or paragraph can clearly be surmised, like so: “He’d had very little to tell the Stormcloaks, being a low-ranking officer. Sometimes he’d lead them on, bait them into thinking he was holding something back. The physical beatings were a relief compared to—”.

Because the substance of this story more than merits it, I have to take a moment to digress here and say Corimir’s characterization is exquisite. There are two shining examples.

One is during his interrogation in Chapter 5. He’s so, so terrified at the thought of failing to please. It illustrates how the prospect of failure lingers constantly in his mind, rearing up when in the presence of an authority figure. He's so well-conditioned with Thalmor ideology, they have his own mind keeping the knife at his throat, so they don't have to. It’s Chilling.

The other is when Kordin appears at the embassy in Chapter 7. Gosh, Corimir losing his sense of security the way he did… After weeks of reassuring himself he's safe, accepting that it's over a little bit more each day, only to have to see the irrational fear materialize? To have it be true? I couldn't imagine what that's like, but the author did an excellent job of carrying the reader through his disbelief, nausea, distress, and, finally, the anger he takes out on Malborn.

On the whole, the prose is decidedly haunting: it sticks with you and carves into you as much in the calming and tender parts of the story as it does in the harsher, more tense ones. This author presented the best imagery out of all the "gwilin" tag fics I've read, bar none. Whatever the opposite of White Room Syndrome is, is what this author had going on. I could visualize depth, space, and time super vividly in nearly every single scene of the story. 10/10

VI. Horniness

One line of supreme importance: “Gwilin nuzzled into his hand like a pleased housecat, sliding closer until he was nearly sitting in Corimir’s lap.” That, plus the way he runs his fingertips through Corimir's hair and scalp. Ooga Booga. 10/10

Final Tally

My

autistic ass

gives this Gwilin a 9/10!