How Rebecca Yarros’ “Fourth Wing” Gets Disability Representation
Collab Story written by Karina Sturm first published at Chronic Pain Partners.
What if the hero of a bestselling novel shared your (rare) disability? What if, for the first time, this representation is reflecting your lived experience? This is how many people from the Ehlers-Danlos community felt when reading Rebecca Yarros’ Fourth Wing, the first book of a fantasy series, following Violet Sorrengail, a young woman forced to join a brutal dragon rider academy and fighting her way through life-threatening challenges, fierce rivalries, and the unrelenting physical toll of her training.
Besides being a dragon rider, Violet also lives with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS), a group of rare connective tissue disorders. Soon, the book series is going to become an Amazon show, which marks the first time a popular streamer will represent a character with EDS (to the author’s knowledge). This review explores how Fourth Wing represents Ehlers-Danlos syndrome through Violet, and discusses the implications of its subtle portrayal for raising awareness about EDS and other invisible conditions.
Storyline: Dragons, Blood, Death & Romance
Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros is set in a world where dragon riders form the elite military force bound to protect their kingdom of Navarre. The story follows Violet Sorrengail, a young woman thrust into the grueling dragon rider college by her commanding mother. Violet, whose body is described as “more vulnerable” compared to the other cadets, has to find creative ways to overcome the challenges created by deadly trials and fierce rivalries. Amidst her fight for survival, Violet falls in love with Xaden Riorson, a rebellious rider whose past is intertwined with her family’s. As she uncovers secrets that could change her whole life and world as she knows it, Violet has to decide where her loyalties are…
A Subtle Disability Portrayal
While the book never explicitly mentions EDS, readers familiar with the condition will immediately notice parallels in Violet’s health challenges. From the first pages, Violet is described as “fragile” and physically “weaker” than others. While these terms often carry negative connotations within the disability community, here it serves to highlight the extreme standards of the dragon rider academy, where physical strength means survival and its absence leads to death. Imagine dragon riders as the Ninja Warriors of all people – they are extreme athletes and Violet, compared to their physical abilities, appears not as strong.
Some examples of symptoms mentioned that resonate with people with EDS are Violet’s chronic pain, which she talks about frequently to her friends. For instance, she says, “I block out the pain; lock it behind a wall, like I have always done my entire life.” Her chronic pain is ever-present and represented in a way that makes it obvious the author must have experienced it herself. The second most common symptom are frequent joint subluxations and dislocations, which are typical for EDS and not commonly seen in other conditions. Violet repeatedly dislocates joints, sprains ankles, and breaks bones, even though in the context of the book, she mostly does so during combat and other straining activities – people with EDS don’t need that kind of impact to subluxate bones.
Additionally, there are indicators in the book that Violet lives with dysautonomia, a dysregulation of the autonomic nervous system. Yarros mentions that stress triggers dizziness in Violet, she has fainting spells and vomiting, hinting at autonomic nervous system issues. And lastly, Violet’s soft skin is noted during an intimate moment with Xaden, her partner, a hallmark symptom of hEDS. I particularly enjoyed that the remarks about her super soft skin were part of the romantic and erotic parts of the book – something that really surprised since the book is classified as a young adult book. (Be aware of the explosive sex scenes ala 50 Shades of Grey.)
A Fantasy Hero with a Disability – Breaking Tropes
Unlike many other disabled characters in books, Violet’s physical abilities are not the center of attention; they are a part of the storyline but without a focus on them. It feels natural. The focus remains on action and romance, ensuring her disability doesn’t overshadow the story’s main theme. The author could have used typical disability narratives such as inspiration porn, where the disabled person is celebrated for doing everyday activities with their disability; where the disability is the story without any other personality. Yarros could have also made Violet a person to be pitied; someone who suffers greatly because of her condition. But she did not do so. On the contrary, in many areas, the author uses Violet’s experiences with pain as an advantage in combat, because it makes her more resilient against the challenges she faces, and at the same time, her disability encourages her to think outside the box and find creative solutions for physical barriers others don’t even notice. A lived disability experience many people in the community will relate to.
For instance, when Violet faces combat training, she sneaks out beforehand to investigate who her opponent will be the day after and then finds their “weakness”; for example, one time she poisons an opponent with fruit they are allergic to. One scene focuses on finding adaptations for Violet to keep her seat on her dragon, Tairn. Tairn is the largest and strongest dragon in the kingdom and Violet does not have the muscle strength to hold onto him without a little help. Her friends design a saddle for her, custom made, so she wouldn’t fall off. The same scene also addresses internalized ableism, because at first, Violet insists on riding her dragon like all the other riders – without a saddle. But Tairn reassures her, “Just because your body is built differently than others does not mean you don’t deserve it to keep your seat. It takes more than a few strips of leather and a pommel to define a rider.” Her adaptations mirror real-world solutions, such as assistive devices like braces.
Yarros also resists the genre’s common trope of “curing” disabled characters through magical interventions. Although Violet’s acute injuries are treated by healers, her underlying condition remains, reinforcing the idea that her disability is simply a part of who she is rather than something that must be fixed. Through Violet, Fourth Wing celebrates the strength, adaptability, and humanity of disabled characters, redefining what it means to be a hero in fantasy.
A Multi-Faceted Disabled Character
Fourth Wing offers a nuanced portrayal of invisible disability through Violet Sorrengail, highlighting the strengths and struggles of living with a condition like EDS. For readers with EDS, Violet’s experiences are immediately and deeply recognizable; they will make the connection almost instinctively. But for those unfamiliar with the condition, that link may never become clear. This feels like a missed opportunity to raise awareness, and the choice not to name EDS explicitly risks reinforcing the invisibility of chronic illness. So the implicit representation ensures access to the mainstream audience, but leaves room for more awareness, which, hopefully, the film version will fulfill. We hope to see accurate representation, casting an actor with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome in the role of Violet and ensuring those symptoms won’t be cut out of the film!
For readers with EDS, Violet’s resilience and ingenuity provide validation. For the non-disabled audience, Fourth Wing demonstrates that heroism comes in many forms, including adapting to and overcoming physical barriers. This book is a significant step toward mainstreaming disability in fantasy, proving that characters with chronic conditions can be just as compelling—and just as heroic—as their able-bodied counterparts, without using stereotypes.
