I love how unabashedly emotional and talkative “Hikaru” is. He cries watching a movie and isn’t even a tiny bit embarrassed about it. Hell, he probably wouldn’t understand why anyone may expect him to be embarrassed about expressing his honest feelings. When talking with Yoshiki, he just tells him everything, explains himself to the best of his ability – always candid, often confused, but never pretending or hiding anything. He eats some yummy food and gets so excited over it. He may appear childish because of that, but the truth is more complicated: he has no concept of stilted social expectations; but he does have that innate curiosity and love for the world and all its experiences. His inherent qualities haven’t been quashed by outside pressure. There’s no need to mask anything.
(In stark contrast to Yoshiki, who has already learnt the painful lesson of having to repress and hide a lot of who he is; he admits he loves how he can just be himself around “Hikaru”, because “Hikaru” doesn’t judge, has no notion of what’s “proper” or “acceptable”.)
And the best part is, we never see anyone shame “Hikaru” for this. People around him may be surprised or even perceive him as childish, but no one ever tells him to shut up or to act more mature. He doesn’t get labelled as “unmanly” or “effeminate” because of these qualities either (which, I imagine, would easily happen in the real world to a sixteen year old boy). At most, it makes people more protective of him (especially Yoshiki). Other kids mention he (or, probably, the original Hikaru) once fainted after watching a horror movie, but even that’s delivered as a neutral statement or maybe gentle teasing rather than biting ridicule.
For all we know, “Hikaru” is an extremely powerful, inhuman eldritch entity, and yet he’s the most genuine and emotional of all the characters. (That alone speaks volumes to me.) He rambles, laughs and cries and no one challenges him for that. To see it pictured this way is just so, so refreshing.
This is probably old news to most of you, but I have discovered it for the first time and it struck a chord with me. (For context, I got back to my second playthrough as Yae.)
During the first rest at camp, if you talk to Astarion first out of all the companions (ignoring, for example, the pressing exclamation mark above Lae'zel's head), he's pretty upbeat and eager to engage in a brief discussion before declaring he has a lot to process (oh yes, he does).
Astarion: So, we're resting here? Turning in for the night?
Astarion: Curling up in the dirt and resting is... a little novel.
Astarion: I need some time to think things through. To process this.
Astarion: You sleep. I'll keep watch.
From the PC's point of view it is, of course, bizarre; why would he be so perky in such circumstances? Especially given that just a few hours ago he was hysterically laughing about being doomed to turn into a monster (again). But as the day progressed, he must have come to the conclusion that his current company and circumstances aren't half bad – and compared to what we know about his past, he's right. He's having a break – finally, for the first time in 200 years. He's allowed a moment to (figuratively) breathe. There's no trace of the manipulative persona (with an exception noted below). The "nice, simple plan" hasn't been born yet. This is a short inkling of freedom. Look how his face lights up in some of the screenshots.
And his fairly high spirits in the evening are presented as a clever contrast to other companions' impatience and uncertainty. A subtle way to already set the pale elf apart.
Astarion: Shadowheart seems jumpy. Must not relish the thought of sprouting tentacles.
Astarion: Understandable. Can't say I'm a fan either. It's just hard to join in when all of this feels so new.
If Astarion is talked to second (in the screens above, after Shadowheart), the beginning of the dialogue changes a little to even more blatantly emphasise the difference between his mood and that of the companion in question (he says it directly, he's unable to join the brooding; not to mention he quite frankly exposes himself by stating he's in the middle of savouring new experiences), and the rest of the dialogue goes the same. Astarion offers to keep watch and wishes you sweet dreams, unless you tell him straight you don't trust him (in which case he adopts the manipulative persona to protect himself from the hurtful, even if at this point justified, statement).
However. When I talked first to the other two companions, and only then approached him, I was immediately dismissed:
Astarion: Do you mind? I'm brooding.
Even his body language became closed off: crossed arms and only a brief eye contact before gazing to the side.
I'd like to mention this was the sequence of events I saw on my first playthrough; I hunted exclamation marks, so I first talked to Lae'zel, then to Shadowheart. I still think it's a very "organic" order, encouraged by the game itself. And when Astarion turned my attempt at a conversation down, I assumed he wouldn't talk to me at all at this point, that I probably needed a higher approval or something.
Which, I really want to stress it, makes for different "Astarion experience" for various players. I remember being genuinely surprised when people said he's so talkative from the start. What do you mean? He's so mean from the start, haha (I fell in love with the mean version anyway.) The thing is: both statements are true, after a fashion.
Seeing how it differs depending on the order makes me think of how he'd like to talk to someone else at least for a bit, but he won't reach out himself, not yet. You could say he's that kind of a "lurker" who observes other people's conversation, but isn't quite certain if he can join in without an invitation. He needs to be approached.
But when others seem too occupied with themselves, he must feel othered, excluded. You know, like that kid who's picked last to a sport team during a PE class. Reminded he's not like the rest of the people in the camp. He's not anybody's first choice. The perky mood disperses and (as I imagine) old insecurities or resentment (or both) jump right back in onto the front seat. When Astarion is ignored, even if for legit reasons, his mood is immediately soured. It shows how, in fact, fragile he is in this new situation.
Lae'zel: A monster forms inside us, and you think to be idle?
Lae'zel: A monster forms inside us, yet you waste time with idle chatter.
While a similar thing happens with Lae'zel – if she's talked to second, the dialogue gets more concise with no choices on player's end, and if third, she'll only scold you – the reasons for which she doesn't like to be ignored are different. She thinks the player is wasting their time, not treating the situation seriously, and therefore endangering everyone, herself included. Shadowheart seems the most talkative regardless of order; I haven't tested it with Gale – I like to delay recruiting him for roleplaying reasons – but I imagine he'd be on the talkative side, too; feel free to let me know.
It's just... such a subtle, yet effective way of characterisation. Of hinting early on what each character is like and where their problems might lie. I love how chiselled the beginning of the game feels.
I just had this thought about Astarion sitting in other people’s places to simply enjoy the lingering warmth. You vacate it only for a moment, just to grab something to drink, but when you return, it’s occupied, and all you get is a flash of unrepentant grin.
“Astarion, this was my place,” you might try to argue.
“Well, too bad, darling, because now it’s mine,” you get exactly the kind of cheeky response you expected and go find yourself another spot, while he secretly relishes the warmth his body no longer produces.
I wanted to emphasise that the fact that “Hikaru” can be described – at least in human terms – as aroace, and the fact that his relationship with Yoshiki is some equivalent of queerplatonic, does not “erase” the queerness of the story. To the contrary: it IS queerness. Just of the kind that’s rarer, less talked about and often misunderstood within the queer community itself. And that’s precisely the reason why this story is so beautiful and incredibly important.
I also wanted to point out another significant thing that happens in chapter 38-3: “Hikaru” gets acknowledged as his own person, not just a replacement for the real Hikaru. By talking about the difference in his feelings towards both of them, Yoshiki affirms they’re two separate people, and that he cares about both as persons; it’s not just a body he wants, that would be twisted. The fact that he has formed a different sort of connection with “Hikaru”, something that is its own thing and not just an echo of the past irrevocably gone is, again, beautiful and incredibly important. It affirms the personhood of “Hikaru” (whatever he is) and shows that Yoshiki is maybe finally ready to move on.
Because Hikaru technically died in winter, but no one was able to grieve him and to release the idea of him until summer.
One of the many (MANY) things I love about The Summer Hikaru Died is that the character who can be read as aroace is not the quiet, distanced Yoshiki, it's the vibrant, full of energy and hunger for life (and souls, ahem) “Hikaru”. Don't get me wrong, I love introverted aroaces too, and I definitely love both Yoshiki and “Hikaru” (I relate to both to some extent). But I also find it nice when representation goes against expectations in some way.
Why I think it's important that Astarion embraces the shadows
You know it's funny, at first I thought I was trapped by the shadows – cursed to live in them forever. But in time, I realised that darkness is as much a part of me as my fangs. This is only a curse as long as I refuse to embrace the shadows. So I decided I would.
I love how the choice between ascending and forgoing the ritual is designed: ascension grants an immediate reward (and thus presents an alluring temptation), but requires mass slaughter; letting go of the power comes at a personal cost, but saves lives and gives victims a second chance. If it was any other way, there would be no story in this choice; no dilemma, no conflict, nothing memorable.
I also think it’s crucial how in the spawn route, we see Astarion not only in high spirits (When I look at my future, anything and everything feels possible now), but also grieving. While he doesn’t regret his choice, he does feel sorry for his personal loss – which is natural and valid. And while I love that we can promise him to look for another way to walk in the sun again (after all, the Forgotten Realms are full of wonders – and the whole Multiverse even moreso), I also consider the narrative of him coming to terms with his condition (without giving up hope) much more real – and very important, at least to me.
I’d like to talk about two layers here: the more literal one, and the more metaphorical one.
The more literal one is pretty straightforward: we all have our limits in life. Some of them, we’re born with; some come up along the way; and other still are forced onto us. My first thought is neurodivergency or chronic illnesses, but I’m sure other people can name many more examples. You take medications or you go to therapy (pursuing the sun), but at the same time you just have to accept these things are a part of your reality, beyond your control.
The more metaphorical layer makes me think of the Jungian shadow.
As some of you probably know, the Jungian shadow is the suppressed part of the psyche. It’s the facts about ourselves that are too painful or uncomfortable to acknowledge, facts we are unaware of, or facts we don’t like about ourselves and associate with shame. They make us behave in certain ways, often without us understanding why. And the more we sweep all of this under the rug of unconsciousness, the stronger the shadow becomes, constantly holding us back or making us repeat certain patterns (sometimes maladaptive) over and over.
(I’d like to emphasise that the shadow isn’t inherently “evil” – for example, we may suppress a trait or a behaviour because it’s culturally viewed as unacceptable, not because it’s objectively bad. The shadow is simply what lies uncovered, and may encompass useful and positive things as well.)
You probably already see where this is all going.
When Astarion says he has accepted the shadows as a part of him, he basically says he has learned to love himself just the way he is, without the need to become some better, idealised – and unattainable – version of himself. He has learned he is enough even with all the “less savoury” aspects – and it's clear it makes him feel free and more in control of his life.
Don’t hate me, but I think it’s more important than him literally walking in the sun. And let me reiterate – the point isn’t to forsake the sun entirely. Searching for it is an important endeavor – it symbolises making the word a better place. But I do believe accepting the shadow(s) is crucial to healing and an important first step towards any other goals.
This is who I am. In all my glory, for better and for worse.
Thank you for the tags, @litsenn and @missfortunetherogue, both your entries were interesting (and heart-rending 🥲). Gently passing the tag to @wild-surge, @elceewunjo, @izumiphoenix, @rivereverie, @spillingteanotpermitted, @darkanachronism, @ranger-jahen, @the-red-drow, @michanvalentine, @wasteful-sam.
A micro fic and some additional explanation below the cut
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Category: Gen
Relationship: The Emperor & Tav, Xan of Evereska & Tav
Additional tags: Named Tav, Autistic Tav, Yae of Evereska (OC), Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Childhood Memories, Nightmares, Loneliness, Fear, Character Study, Relationship Study, Family Bonds, Yae's POV, Early Act 1
Words: 685
This story has been buried in my wips for way too long, so thanks again for giving me the additional push to stop overthinking and finally post it.
Read on AO3
The Guardian of Dreams
There’s this time during the night when all the fears pour out of a sleeper’s soul and sit heavy atop their chest, constricting the lungs.
Wake now. You’ll feel better. I promise.
Yae lay in his bedroll with knees drawn almost to his chin, back arched, and fought for breath. The fire the group had gathered around for the night’s rest – they hadn’t been lucky enough to scrape together anything resembling proper tents yet – was reduced to mere smouldering embers, offering no heat to chase away the shivers and the dread. He should probably stoke it up, he could use lively flames to dry the cold sweat off his body, but the said body wouldn’t budge.
It’d been just a dream. Not even a nightmare. A dream, a very vivid dream. Objectively, it couldn’t even be classified as a bad one. His fear was irrational and infantile, and the awareness filled him with disgust.
He had dreamt of his father – but that person wasn’t his father at all.
Not because the figure had worn a full dress armour, an unlikely choice for a bladesinging enchanter; the elegant craftsmanship would have at least suited the man’s taste. And not even because the space on his hip had turned out empty.
“Where’s the Moonblade?” Yae had asked, to which the not-Xan had replied in a stride:
“Safely at home.”
And then the benign dream figure had proceeded to show him blazing silhouettes and searing lights clashing in the iridescent nothingness.
A fight for the fate of Faerûn.
True, this had given Yae pause. Why would Xan have suddenly stowed the Moonblade – a powerful weapon that would serve none other – away like a fragile museum piece? It had not been forged in the famed fires of Myth Drannor to rest idle – a fact the Greycloak recognised well as he preferred to put the blade between himself and any manner of danger.
I’m overthinking this. Yae buried his tired face in his hands, scars meeting scars. It was just a dream. An absurd conjecture of a mind pushed to its limits.
But the very same mind continued to analyse, devoted to the lost cause of looking for sense in a figment born from feverish visions. And the more it looked, the more an uncanny feeling crept upon Yae, wrapping its spindly arms around the half-elf’s neck.
Xan’s choice of words hadn’t exactly matched his usual patterns. His gestures had had a slightly different flow. His smile – would he even have smiled at all, given the topic of the conversation? – had contorted the face in a foreign fashion, the lines somehow misplaced, like rivulets of water abandoning its riverbed.
If Yae had still been a little boy, he would have thought something had swallowed his father and taken his place, and the realisation would have filled him with the sort of primal terror only children were capable of experiencing.
He remembered wandering the corridors of his family home, warm and comforting during the day, yet twisted and unfamiliar in the dead of the night. Little Yae, woken from some horrible nightmare and spooked witless by the vividness of his own imagination, would eventually make it to his father’s bed, where Xan would hold him tight to his chest, always patient, almost uncharacteristically so, no matter how torrid the flow of the boy’s tears that broke his trance. And he’d choose to fall asleep along with his son instead, just so the little one wouldn’t feel alienated by the form of rest that remained inaccessible to him.
“Hush,” he’d whisper to his child. “I’ll guard your dreams tonight.”
Adult Yae buried his face in the bundle of clothes that served him as a pillow, hoping to stifle the sobs enough to not alarm others, to not wake those strangers he had gotten stuck with, but could never have a place among. He cried, refusing to admit to himself how much he wished his father had been here.
Two voices, one tired but loving, the other full of sedating warmth, assured him in his head:
Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.
As described in the fic, the Emperor took the appearance of Xan, Yae's father, but wasn't successful enough in emulating the man's behaviour – by which I mean the performance would probably be convincing to most other people, but it failed in Yae's case because of a couple of reasons.
Xan's portrait I created for the BG3 Yearbook, trying to match the vibes of his BG1 portrait
First, Yae is a very detail-oriented person. This trait alone might have not been enough to see though the ruse, but choosing the guise of someone Yae knows so well was a gamble. Or it would be a gamble if not for the third fact: Yae had already gone through a situation in which he had to decide whether the person in front of him was Xan or not.
Here's a passage from the yet unpublished fic The Ebbs and Flows for CotG2, where little Yae for the first time sees Xan after a gender shift:
Dad was now Mom. She claimed she didn’t mind being still called “Dad”, but little Yae could see “Mom” pleased her more, and made her usually melancholic eyes light up with satisfaction.
It had happened yesterday. When Xan had emerged from the bedroom, Yae had frozen, dumbfounded. He thought there was a stranger in the house. But then he saw the way the woman sighed heavily, as if her worst premonitions had come true, and the familiar gesture of tiredly massaging the bridge of her nose. He realised the woman had a face he knew, and locks of wavy brown hair not unlike his own.
Xan was the same person as always.
See what I mean?
Interestingly, thanks to that very early realisation and disillusionment, Yae didn't feel betrayed when the Emperor finally revealed its true form – because after the initial shock, he didn't treat it like his father, but rather like a stranger that happened to look like his father. To him, the reveal felt like they reached a stage of at least some mutual trust. In the beginning of the game, Yae was wary of the Dream Visitor/the Emperor, but when it all came together, he thought the secrecy had been a rational choice. Or maybe he just related to the need to trust someone before revealing your hand to them – he considered it natural progression, moreso because he himself takes long to warm up to others. And since he had already looked past Shadowheart being a Sharran or Astarion being a vampire, why not give a chance to an illithid who seems to be playing on the same team.
(He also tried to not think too hard about the fate of Duke Stelmane. Welp. And didn't consume any tadpoles, so he wasn't manipulated to become a half-illithid. I know I say it a lot, but the fact you can have vastly different experience with NPCs based on your choices is one of this games best traits.)
And maybe I should also mention something Yae very rarely admits, even to himself: that he'd always wanted someone to be there, and that maybe for a moment the Emperor did fill that niche. Every kid realises at some point that their parents aren't almighty and can't protect them from everything. I think for Yae it hit especially hard because a) he'd been a child who needed a lot of support, b) of the rejection he'd been experiencing from his peers, and c) of the disastrous, underdeveloped spell he had tried to cast as a teenager; as much as he loved both his parents, it might have been the moment he felt truly alone and on his own in the world, which got reinforced when his warlock patron didn't interact with him in any direct way. And then the Emperor showed up, during what felt like one of the lowest points in Yae's life, doing very specific and tangible things to help him. So maybe that, on the subconscious level, softened Yae's judgement of it.
BONUS! A bunch of screenshots from my Astarion origin run (which I will surely finish one day) where I made his Dream Visitor to look like a certain charming warlock. Not that Astarion has any idea who the man might be :D
Mods used in the pictures: Otis_Inf Camera Mod, ReShade, Lighty Lights, Jun's Head Pack, Vessnelle's Hair, Kay's Hair Extensions, Faces of Faerun, Bangs, Bangs Everywhere
