Astarion mourns the sun. It hurts, every day anew.
And so he goes and sits to watch the sun rise and set whenever he can. Grasping onto these moments of light and gradient colours spilling over the sky for as much as he is physically able to. Watching the sky lighten from the sun announcing itself with reds and oranges, and blues that slowly become lighter.
There's awe in his ruby eyes and suffering, one goes inseperably with the other. The beauty of it spurrs him on and simulatneously breaks his heart.
And he keeps watching just until the first bit of light crosses over the horizon and bathes the world in its warm light that every other being seemes to take for granted - and he has lost twice now.