"Gentling" in the world of "The Wheel of Time" (spoilers!)
When I first read these books (and I will now talk about the books, because the series is a slide show with pretty pictures without proper filling and content) I was a teenager and did not particularly think about the depths of tragedy that could befall a man who could channel. Now that I'm much older, I listen to these books again and think about it more. Also, I have been thinking about one of my original role-playing game characters lately.
So, we know from the books that almost all men died very quickly after such a "procedure" because they lost the will to live. But is the problem only in the inability to channel saidin anymore?
Let's think. First, it's really a problem. Losing something that makes you feel so much more alive, something that allows you to do real miracles, hurts physically and emotionally. The way the effects are described is very similar to the symptoms of very severe clinical depression. It is difficult even with a supportive environment and rehabilitation.
The vast majority of men who faced this problem never asked for "help", because they knew what was waiting for them. If they did not run away or end their lives, they ended up in a situation where it became known about them far from voluntarily. This put them on the same level as criminals. How can you put others at risk? And who was the first to find and capture them? Red Ajah. Those who hate them the most.
Of course, not every one of these men is a Logain, so probably the vast majority of them did not end up in a cage that was triumphantly paraded around several cities and countries (still a special case, ordinary people should have known that the terrible False Dragon was no longer a threat), but I suspect that many received a certain humiliation during their capture, transportation, trial and the "gentling" itself, which I understand took place quite publicly in the White Tower. Even the term "gentling" is much more humiliating than that "severing".
Then such people were either kept in the Tower (among women who can channel, have power, and do absolutely nothing to solve the problem more globally), or were left to fend for themselves.
Can such a person return home? Hardly.
Tom Merrilin's nephew Owyn was exiled with his wife from the village by his fellow villagers, even though he could no longer channel. Even Tom narrowly escaped a beating when he admitted there that he was his relative. Usually everyone was afraid of such men even when they could no longer touch Saidin.
On the other hand, we know a situation where a man lived ten years after severing because he had a brother who took care of him.
The only possibility to survive severing is to find a reason to live, to find a new purpose in life, but what real options did such a person have? Sometimes it's hard to find purpose in life even when you're not depressed and you're generally healthy.
But these are all known facts. What really scares me: if such a man survived despite everything, it could mean one thing for everyone around him: it is possible to survive, and the Aes Sedai are doing everything right. This means that he is really guilty because he did not ask for "help" from the Aes Sedai. This means that losing the ability to channel saidin is not such a big deal. This means that he is just an asshole who wanted power that he did not deserve. It means that he is over-dramatizing. Every day he lives is another argument against him
The very fact of survival in such a case does not make a man stronger in the eyes of others and in his own eyes. It only gives more reason to devalue his loss. To live means to live with a constant sense of shame.
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Hey, could I request omega Spencer loosing a long term pet and tuning to his alpha, Aaron, for care and comfort while he's giving.
Sorry, I know it's really specific, I'm loosing my dog and coping with it is hard.
TW: Pet death, grieving, Omegaverse, Alpha gentling his Omega at the end tho it's not smut, just soft <3
A/N: I hope you're doing better, hon. I struggled a little with writing this, mostly cause I wanted to use my own experience as a reference for Spencer's feelings. This also isn't as long as I wanted, but still longer than I expected, so it's a decent-ish blurb. I hope Aaron comforting Spencer helps to comfort you <3
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It wasn't as though he didn't expect it to happen. He knew that Einstein was getting old; older than the average age for cats, actually. But it was still a shock to wake up on that Saturday morning, to open the can of wet cat food that his picky, sassy, no-nonsense kitty always demanded of him, only to not hear those old paws pad their way across the tile floor of the kitchen. No demanding, scratchy meows. No quiet purrs that rumbled on his skin as Einstein rubbed himself against his leg impatiently for breakfast.
Spencer emptied the can onto Einstein's little plate (he had a flat face; a pure white Persian--more gray now-- that his mom just "found" one day while Spencer was at school. He never really cared to see where Einstein came from, his childhood having been very lonely up until that point, where now he had a friend to cuddle and spend time with), and called for the cranky old man (as Jack and Aaron liked to call him).
"Einstein? Here kitty." Spencer walked from the kitchen to the dining room, checking the chair that sat in the sun. No Einstein. He walked to the living room, checking the cat tower, the two different cat beds, and the space behind the bookshelf. No Einstein.
Slightly concerned now, wondering if he maybe got out somehow, Spencer went back to the bedroom and shook Aaron's shoulder, "Aaron? Aaron, I can't find Einstein."
The Alpha mumbled something under his breath, laying on his stomach with his arms under the pillow. Saturday's were the only day he allowed himself to sleep in, sans being on a case, of course.
"Aaron?"
Aaron cracked open an eye at the way Spencer's voice wavered, the scent of distressed Omega hitting his nose as he became more aware. He pushed himself sitting up, his back cracking in a few places, his shoulder popping, before he maneuvered his legs off the side of the bed. With a yawn, a shake of his head, he finally settled his eyes on his lovely mate--and frowned.
"Spencer? What's wrong, hon?"
Spencer's fingers tugged and pulled at the hem of his sleep-shirt (one of Aaron's old shirts), stretching the fabric more than it already was, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He could feel his own panic starting to bubble up through his body, a ball of anxiety settled in his stomach and pushing its way to his chest, to his throat, forming a lump that he couldn't swallow down.
"I-I can't find Einstein," he said again, quieter, voice wavering, "Wh-what if he got out? Aaron, he's so old, he couldn't survive outside! He's never had to fend for himself before! Oh, God, what if--"
Aaron was suddenly in front of him, one hand cradling the back of Spencer's head, thumb and forefinger pressing into those Omegan pressure points on the neck to help calm him. The other soothed over his rapidly beating heart as he shushed him, chuffing softly in a form of comfort, "Shh, Spencer, it's okay. I don't think Einstein got out. He's probably sleeping in the extra room. Have you checked there?"
Spencer shook his head, eyes watering, but his Alpha's presence and pressure helped him to relax. Within moments, his breathing evened out, the anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach feeling a little lighter--though not gone. He swallowed, managing to take a deep enough breath that Aaron felt he could let go.
"I'll help you look for him, okay?" Aaron said with a small smile. He loved how much Spencer cared for his cat, how he practically babied the grumpy old thing. Nobody could get away with holding him aside from Spencer, and if Einstein was in Spencer's lap, well, Aaron knew he wasn't allowed near. He had to schedule his own cuddle time with his Omega after the cat. He didn't mind--especially since it made Spencer laugh.
The two went to the guest room, only to find it empty of Einstein there too. Going back to the kitchen, Spencer's breathing a little too quick for Aaron's liking, brought them to a scene that Spencer will never forget.
Jack was standing by Einstein's food bowl, the cat in his arms, and he looked... sad. The little Alpha pup had watery eyes, his cheeks and nose red from fighting back tears, and his arms were so full of gray and white fluff. He looked up at his parents, lower lip wobbling, and whispered, "He doesn't wanna eat. He didn't wanna get up, either."
Spencer swallowed, gently taking Einstein from Jack--and for a moment, Aaron feared that his son had been holding a dead cat without knowing it--only to hear the old grumpy kitty let out a small meow. Aaron was relieved, but that feeling was short-lived.
Spencer held Einstein for a long moment, face pressed to the scruff of the cat's neck, inhaling his familiar scent, hand petting down his back softly, gently, and purred. Einstein was purring too, though very faint. Quiet.
He took an unsteady breath before looking up to meet Aaron's eyes, his own now tinted red as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.
Aaron sighed, his whole body rigid and tense. His job as Alpha was to protect his pack--his mate and his pup--but this wasn't something he could protect them from. This kind of heartbreak wasn't an enemy he could fight. He couldn't defend them from it, and his instincts were screaming at him. His inner Alpha demanded blood, demanded he hide his family away in their nest, cover them with his body and protect.
Instead, he made two phone calls. One to Jessica to please pick up Jack for a couple of days. And then to the vet.
--
It happened much quicker than Spencer expected. Not that he knew what to expect; he had never had a pet before Einstein, and had never seen how any of this worked outside of TV shows or movies (which, it turns out, most of that is inaccurate).
Spencer had met Einstein when he was a tiny kitten, maybe 5-6 weeks old (Spencer decided Einstein's birthday was the same as his, October 28th, because it just fit the timeline better). Spencer had just turned 10, and now he was a few weeks away from turning 30, meaning Einstein lived to the ripe old age of 20--4 years longer than the average housecat.
The vet told them that he was sick, an auto-immune disorder that most cats get when they're around the age of 4-5 years. It's possible he's always had it, but it was dormant, or he was just healthy enough that nothing triggered it to act. Until now.
So, ultimately, it wasn't even old age that was killing his cat. But, because of his age, he couldn't take the medications he would need to fight off his own immune system to keep it from attacking him.
After 7 hours at the vet (tests, more tests, talking about options, too many tears shed, one more test), it was finally time to say goodbye.
Spencer sobbed, holding Einstein in his arms, petting his soft fur, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Aaron beside him, a hand rubbing up and down his back in an offer of comfort. The vet was sweet, made it easy, simple, and quick. One moment, Einstein was softly purring into Spencer's neck, and the next he was still, quiet.
Spencer handed him over with little fuss, wrapped in a blanket, and his cat--his first friend, his childhood pet, his furbaby--was taken away.
--
It took 2 weeks to get his ashes back. Spencer printed out his favorite photo of Einstein, framed it in a wooden frame that said "True Love has Four Paws." On top of his dresser, he placed the ashes in a little metal tin that he found at the thrift store; it was once part of a jewelry box, he thinks, the sides the color of an off-cream with vintage drawings of little white cats. They aren't Persians, but that's okay. Next to the ashes is the framed photo, and dangling from the top corner of the photo is Einstein's baby blue collar (with his tag, the name "Einstein" engraved in a fancy script that Spencer picked out when he was 16, thinking the cat was too proper for anything else).
During those first two weeks, waiting on the ashes, Spencer was mostly silent. Work was easy, of course, his mind able to shut off and just focus on the paperwork before him. He would finish before everyone else (as usual) and then go into Aaron's office, laying down on the couch and staring at the wall.
Sometimes Aaron could hear his mate crying softly. When he did, he could cover him with his jacket, knowing the scent and the weight would calm him, before going back to his own paperwork.
He had tried to convince Spencer to take some time off, but the Omega refused to be home alone. He didn't like laying on the couch without the weight of Einstein on his chest. He didn't like being in the dining room without knowing his cat would be under his seat, begging for scraps. He didn't like taking a shower alone anymore either, because now Einstein wasn't sitting on the edge of the tub and daintily sticking his paw into the falling water--only to be angry if he got too wet from his vantage point.
But once the ashes arrived, things got a little easier.
Spencer would talk to them, sometimes. Sit at the desk in his room and quietly tell Einstein about his day. Even he thought it was a little weird, at first, to be talking to some ashes (he's very aware that the ashes aren't Einstein, not anymore, his soul having moved on to the "rainbow bridge" as some call it), but that didn't actually stop him.
And then a month passed. And then two. And he cried a little less, went a day or two without thinking about Einstein--but the thing about grief, about healing, is that it's not linear.
Three months after Einstein's last day, a Saturday, Spencer woke up earlier than Aaron (like every Saturday). He stretched, yawned, and walked to the kitchen. He turned on the coffee pot, turned on the radio to listen to the local news and weather, hummed along to some car commercial with a catchy jingle that somehow always got stuck in his head at the most inconvenient of times.
As he waited for the coffee to pour, he opened a can of cat food and pulled out a familiar plate, scrapping the "grilled salmon" out with a spoon and adding a small amount of water to it, to make it seem like there's more gravy than there really is--
and he freezes.
Spencer stares at the plate of wet cat food, the can and spoon still in his hands. His lower lip trembles as he takes a deep breath, moving slowly, deliberately, to throw the can, and the food, away. He washes the spoon, washes the plate, his eyes watering--but he does not cry. He puts the dishes away, forgets his coffee, and moves to the living room.
Only one of the cat trees remains. It was new, and Jack convinced him to keep it, "in case we get a new kitten someday." Spencer doesn't want a new kitten.
He collapses on the couch, long legs folded up so his knees are pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around his shins. He stares at that cat tree. He stares at it and imagines a new kitten playing on it, sleeping on it, hiding in the little hole, and popping out when Jack walks by.
He doesn't want a new kitten.
He wants Einstein.
-
Aaron finds Spencer in the living room, crying quietly to himself on the couch, still in his pajamas, no coffee or breakfast in sight.
The Alpha doesn't even question it. He knows. He can feel the distress, the sadness, the emotions that surge through his mate. He just leans down, picks Spencer up carefully, and carries him back to their bedroom. But not to the bed; to the second closet.
Spencer and Aaron haven't spent any time in this little nest in a while, mostly due to work, partially due to the loss of Einstein, but Aaron hasn't stopped scent-marking it, just in case.
He lays his Omega down before closing the french-style doors, flicking on the dim overhead light. Along the walls are finely packed sheets and soft thin blankets, making for a thick and comfortable outer rim to the nest. While the inside is padded with quilts, comforters, one heated blanket, pillows, and a variety of older clothes that have all been scented and placed exactly where Spencer wants them.
The Omega whines, curling into himself and burying his damp face into the nest, inhaling all the mixed scents there. This is where he usually spends his heats with his Alpha, where the two come for comfort and reconnection--but Spencer hasn't had a heat in half a year due to stress.
Aaron maneuvers Spencer's body, lays him fully on his stomach, arms at his sides, and then covers him. This would be better if they were both undressed, but it will work for now. He tilts his Omega's head to the side, tucks his arms under Spencer's chest, cages Spencer's legs in with his thighs, and then starts rumbling. He noses at Spencer's wild curls, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the back of his neck, drags his fangs over the skin, scenting his mate thoroughly.
Spencer's little whines and choked sobs eventually fade into gentle, rhythmic breathing, his heartbeat in sync with his Alpha's. He feels Aaron's large hand resting right over his heart, fingertips pressing lightly into the skin with every beat of his heart, keeping the time. He can physically feel his grief fading away, like a darkness that had welled within his lungs slowly being replaced with the light of Aaron's gentling--of his love and affection.
In their nest time has no meaning. Not when they're sharing Spencer's heat or Aaron's rut, not when they just need time alone, and not now. They could have been lying here for minutes, hours, or days, Spencer doesn't know. What he does know, is that soon his body is fully relaxed, so in-tune with his Alpha, feeling protected and safe. And he starts purring.
Eventually, Aaron has them laying on their sides, Spencer's back to his chest, his chin on Spencer's shoulder, nuzzling into the scar of the mating bite he left on his Omega all those years ago. He kisses it, kisses up his jaw, and then kisses the corner of his mouth, "I love you, Spencer. And Einstein loved you too, so much. He knew that you loved him, and he knows that you miss him. You've been doing so well, and I'm so proud of you."
Spencer hums, his eyes closed, fingers interlocked with Aaron's over his stomach. He tilts his head back a little, a silent question for more kisses--which Aaron gladly gives. Still rumbling, still purring, their combined sounds a silent vibration in the stillness of their nest. Aaron kisses away the tears, the dampness on his Omega's cheeks, and he whispers, "Would you like to tell me a story about Einstein?"
Spencer finds himself smiling a little, a soft huff of laughter escaping his chest. He settles further into Aaron's arms, mumbling, "You know them all already."
"Tell me anyway."
The Omega cracks open his red-rimmed eyes, peering over his shoulder at his Alpha, getting a chaste kiss for his effort. His smile grows a little, lips curled up as memories upon memories fill his mind's eye of the 20 years he spent with Einstein.
"Alright," he says slowly, turning onto his back, tangling his legs with Aaron's, settling his head back on one of Jack's old soccer shirts. He blinks slowly, earning a chuff from Aaron who noses at his temple, scenting and kissing wherever he can reach while Spencer starts on his story.
"Did I tell you about the time he was trapped in the dryer all night?"
Another little side-snippet of the pack AU featuring Mirio and Eri, because they are adorable and I love them to pieces.
---
It's not uncommon for Eri to have nightmares, and it's not surprising at all, considering what she's been through. The first time it had happened after he took her in, she'd been nearly inconsolable; he'd had to call Izuku for help, and the therian's methods had been strange to him, but they'd worked.
Teach me, he'd begged them both once she was sleeping calmly again, because Bakugou had come along to help.
It's gentling, the younger Alpha had explained, and both he and Izuku had walked him through what gentling was. Mirio wasn't so sure at first, but the faster Eri settled for him when he tried it himself after that, the more confident he became.
When the whimpers start tonight, he hears them in his sleep, he's so tuned into his little cub by now. Rolling out of bed, he lifts her carefully from her soft, thickly-padded nest and cradles her close, rumbling low in his throat to soothe her distress. He cups her nape and squeezes in gentle pulses, almost like a massage. Her head tucks under his chin and he scents her, rubbing his cheek over her hair and keeping up his low croon as he sits in bed and hugs her close.
It doesn't take long for her to relax, her nightmares fading beneath his comforting touch. She hiccups through a few more tears before falling quiet, and Mirio hugs her just a little bit closer, grateful to be the Hero of her dreams that he can no longer be while she's awake.
Idk if you saw Dragonmount's post about characters whose roled they'll expand upon in the show, but one of them was Logain and they suggested that Logain's Gentling be on screen and for it to be violent. This will make me feel validated on my strong "Gentling is super gross" stance that half the fandom always argues with me about
Hi!!! I didn’t see the post, but I’m very interested that they suggested this! I think it’s ridiculous that people argue with you about whether or not Gentling is a BAD THING BECAUSE JFC WHAT BOOK ARE THEY READING WHERE IT ISN’T?
So, yeah, I’m of two minds on this. The first is that, yes, maybe there will be something about seeing it on screen that will make people wake up to the fact that Gentling is a terrible practice and one of the most insidious aspects of Wheelworld!!!!
The second mind is that it makes me worried that showing this scene on screen (and violently) will border on trauma porn...I’m sure I have talked about this quote on EHR before, but the French director Francois Truffaut once famously said that you can’t make a truly anti-war film because to show something is to ennoble it (paraphrasing Truffaut here). I worry about that a bit with Gentling in the way that I worry about rape scenes in other pieces of media - when the violent act is portrayed in graphic detail like that it becomes so aestheticized for the screen that often the horror is lost. But how and IF we can every accurately portray trauma is its own rich conversation (see discussions on Theodor Adorno’s famous quote “Writing poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric”)
Anyway, before I go full Ramble - in summary, Wheel of Time has a lot going on with trauma and violence that I am interested to see how the showrunners handle it. I’m optimistic since so far it looks like the showrunners have good shoulders on their heads. WE SHALL SEE!!!
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Something else I was thinking of on the topic of how male channelers are treated early in the series is how dehumanized they are. They're certainly viewed as less than human. Logain being transported to Caemlyn in a literal cage is the first instance of that. Also the experience of being gentled (or stilled for that matter) has to be horribly traumatic. You're literally having a piece of yourself ripped away from you.
And not much is done for you after you are gentled. The Aes Sedai opinion might just be "He's just a man who can channel so who cares". Cadsuane even flat out says this "The Light's mercy fades to nothing for a man who can channel." And they know the suicide rates for men who are gentled are extremely high.
So I am very curious about what happens with the families of men who are gentled. How many stay with them vs how many abandon them. (And by this I mean before the Black Tower was a thing). If I remember correctly, Thom's nephew Owyn's wife stayed with him but that's the only instance in the series I can think of.
And now I'm thinking of the reasons women are stilled vs the reasons men are gentled. Women are stilled for committing crimes against the White Tower. Men are gentled just for existing. In the later books the Aes Sedai admit that them gentling men all these centuries has almost bred the ability to channel out of the female population. They were essentially committing genocide against male channelers.
Which sort of brings me back to Cadsuane again and the fact that she's responsible for the gentling of more men than any Aes Sedai in modern WoT history. She even brags (or at least talks about it in a matter of fact way. She doesn't seem too bothered that she did this) that all the men she dragged to the Tower were crying and begging her to stop. Her saying "There is nothing left for them but tears at the end."
This isn't meant to be an anti Aes Sedai post, the practice of Gentling is just really upsetting
