"This should make you feel better, Aurora."
Luke pushes the cup into Aurora's hands. She stares down into its depths, taking in its dark colour, the sweet scent rising from it, the warmth emanating from it and spreading its way through her ice-cold hands.
(Her hands, which are somehow always colder than Luke's).
"Mum always makes me hot chocolate when I have a bad dream." Luke runs his fingers through his hair again and again: a nervous habit, Aurora's noticed, whenever he doesn't have his cap to fidget with. "And I've had a lot of bad dreams," he says, laughing nervously. "But… but never mind me. Sorry. Are you feeling any better?"
"I think so," says Aurora uncertainly.
She's not feeling any worse, at least. Or, rather, she isn't feeling anything at all. And that's why she feels awful.
What a strange paradox.
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
Luke's sudden words startle Aurora into wakefulness. (And that's good. She can't sleep. Not tonight). "What?" she asks, blinking.
"Tell me about your dream." Luke smiles. "If that would help."
Aurora stares into her cup, watching the steam curl into the air. Luke's being so nice to her, and she doesn't know how to explain that he's made an assumption without making her own anxieties worse.
She didn't have a dream.
She… didn't know that dreams, as a concept, existed, until a few days ago.
The common phrase of "sweet dreams" that her friends would throw about every night meant nothing to her; she simply assumed that it was a new way of bidding farewell for the night. She'd even said it a few times to them herself, gaining smiles and pleasant replies of "sweet dreams to you too, Aurora."
It wasn't until she'd been up late one night, reading the dictionary, in an attempt to understand more about this vast new world and its languages, that she'd encountered the meaning of the word.
Dreams: images and sensations that appear in the mind's eye during sleep. The definition is so simple, and yet… frightening, because Aurora has never experienced it.
And now, that quiet darkness that she fades into every night, which was once nothing to her, feels so vast and empty. She doesn't dream. She has never dreamed.
Why doesn't she?
What's wrong with her?
"You don't have to tell me." Luke chuckles hesitantly. "I don't always like to talk about mine."
"Why not?"
Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say: Luke bites his lip, and Aurora looks away ashamedly. But she's just so desperate to get the topic away from herself, and to understand more about what normal people are like.
"Well…" Luke sits down beside her on the sofa. A shadow crosses his face, and his gaze grows far away as he stares into the night sky through the Bostonius window. "Sometimes I remember bad memories, or… or I see things that could have gone badly, even if they didn't. Or sometimes I just feel sad, and I don't remember exactly why when I wake up. And I don't really like talking about that; it's all in the past now, and I don't need to keep thinking about it." He smiles brightly. "Especially now that I have the professor and Emmy. And you, Aurora!"
"Me?" Aurora blinks. Her hands are still cold, but a small warmth stirs up inside her chest.
"Yes!" Luke's smile is so bright. "I've had to leave a lot of friends behind to travel with the professor, but I have you wherever I go!"
It's funny how easy it is to smile when he's smiling too, and it's funny how brightly he can smile, when his dreams are so dark. If he can smile so sincerely for her sake, and if he considers her a friend, then maybe she can be honest with him.
"Thank you, Luke," Aurora says softly. "To be honest, I didn't have a bad dream. I… I'm confused, I think. And, perhaps… sad. Because I… I don't have any dreams. When I lie down at night, all I see is darkness. I don't see images, good or bad."
She cringes down into her cup as she speaks. What is he going to think of her? Every human being has dreams—or, at least, that's what Professor Sycamore's old dictionary implied. Why is she so different from everybody else? Did the Azran never dream, and it was only a capacity that humans developed after that civilization ended?
What's wrong with me?
Confusion briefly flashes in Luke's eyes, and Aurora can't look him in the face. Is he wondering what's wrong with her?
"Don't worry, Aurora!" Aurora looks back toward him, surprised at the excitement in his tone. Something's shining in his eyes. "Maybe you don't have any dreams right now, but you can find some!"
Find dreams? What does he mean? "But how? Dreams are natural processes that… that help you consolidate information while you sleep. How could I find a dream?"
Luke bites his lip, looking towards the ceiling, humming to himself. "Well… there's more than one kind of dream, you know. There are ones at night, but then there are ones that you think about during the day that you work toward and get excited about. Everyone finds a dream eventually—at least, I think so. I didn't have a dream when I was younger, but once I met the professor, I dreamed of becoming his apprentice, and becoming a true gentleman." He smiles into the distance, and Aurora smiles too as she sees the love and admiration he has for the professor reflected in his expression. "Isn't there anything that you've always wanted to do, Aurora?" he asks, turning to face her again. "Maybe something that you wanted to do thousands of years ago, but didn't get to yet?"
Aurora thinks, but try as she might, she can't come up with anything. Her memories of her past life are still gone, for the most part: the little glimmers of the past that the Azran keys have given her have nothing to do with her, and only with the Azran as a whole. "I don't know," she says slowly, disappointment washing over her. "I have so few memories…"
"Oh, you're right." Luke's enthusiasm seems to fade. Then his eyes brighten once again. "What about the memories of all of us together? Maybe there's something in there that could be your dream."
"I'm not sure, Luke." He's wasting his time on her. She doesn't even fully understand the concept of dreams, let alone have them herself, and Luke isn't going to be able to change that. "It's so late. You really should be going to bed yourself; I'll be al—"
"Aurora, please!"
Aurora stops, blinking up at Luke. She didn't expect the intense look in his eyes, or the sharpness in his voice. "Aurora, I want to help," he says again, his voice calmer, but still filled with resolve. "I won't be able to get a good sleep if you aren't able to either."
"Why not?"
It's a genuine question, but Luke blinks. "Well, because… because you're my friend, Aurora, and I… I worry about my friends."
Is this really what friendship is? Worrying about others? Aurora doesn't want to make him unhappy or worried for her. But somehow, a warmth grows inside her; it feels nice, knowing that he is concerned for her. Another paradox: not wanting her friends to be unhappy, and yet selfishly enjoying their unhappiness.
Is there a way to make a compromise between the two extremes? She has to try.
"If I let you help me, then would you stop worrying about me?" she asks cautiously. "I don't want you to be unhappy."
Luke bites his lip. "Well, I… I can't promise that I won't ever worry about you again. But I wouldn't be worried now. And I'm not unhappy, Aurora!" he says quickly, as if just registering her final words. "I'm not that worried, especially because I know how to fix your problem! So please, let me help you."
He looks so eager, and, despite Aurora's initial reluctance, she doesn't want him to leave either. "Alright," she says, giving him a hesitant smile. "As long as you promise to go to sleep as soon as you help me."
Luke beams. "Perfect!" He leans against the back of the sofa, staring toward the stars as he folds his arms behind his head. "Now. Let's close our eyes, and think of our favourite memories. And maybe you'll dream about them. Or maybe you'll come up with a big dream that you want to accomplish someday! Now, close your eyes, Aurora."
Luke squeezes his eyes shut, and Aurora nearly giggles; he looks so funny, and yet, so determined. She can't let him outdo her. She closes her eyes.
The warmth of the hot chocolate that Luke had made for everybody in Froenborg, and the way that Emmy had burned herself by drinking it too fast, and how they'd all laughed with her after she'd laughed first. The sweetness of the baklava that Luke had bought her in the Mosinnian market, and the excitement of exploring the marketplace with him and Umid, the streets once again bustling with life. The taste of the flavoured ice in San Grio, and how she'd almost dropped it when Luke had grabbed her by the hand, laughing as he pulled her into the shallow water to wade with him.
The tastes that she remembers are sweet—is that what everyone means when they say "sweet dreams?" No, of course not; that's ridiculous. Aurora chuckles at the thought; that's far too simple of an explanation.
The memories are certainly pleasant. But memories only exist because of past experiences. How can they affect her future dreams?
Perhaps Luke can clarify things for her.
"What made you dream of becoming the professor's apprentice, Luke?" she asks, slowly opening her eyes and turning to look at him. "You said that you had no dreams before then. What changed?"
"Well, I did dream at night." Luke's eyelids seem heavy; his words are measured out carefully, as if he'd fall asleep if he didn't space out the words at the right intervals to keep himself awake. "Although they were mostly nightmares for a while. But I didn't think much about the future, until things in Misthallery changed. And then I only thought of the future to worry about… about Mum and Dad. But when I met the professor and Emmy, I… I felt safe, I suppose. And I wanted to feel safe like that all the time, and to become a gentleman, so I… so I could make other people feel the same." His words grow slower and more slurred as he speaks, and slowly, he leans against Aurora's shoulder. The feeling of his head on her shoulder is unexpected, but pleasant, in a way.
"I see," says Aurora quietly, so that she won't disturb him. He's certainly hitting the mark if he's aiming to make others feel safe; her earlier anxiety is nearly gone. So, it was meeting Professor Layton that gave him his dream, and his fond memories of the professor was what inspired him.
What is the common factor in all of her fond memories?
Luke making her hot chocolate. Luke exploring the marketplace with her. Luke , laughing, leading her by the hand into the water.
Her fond memories are filled with Luke.
Perhaps… perhaps her dream is to make others feel the way Luke makes her feel, in the same way that the professor inspired Luke.
But… but that's not her dream. Not really. It's something far more selfish. She simply wants more of those fond memories, more time together with Luke, and her other friends that she's made, more beautiful, warm feelings and images to fill the empty void she sees every night. Is wanting to dream a dream in itself? She needs to ask Luke.
"Luke, I think I've found a dream," she starts, turning towards him.
But Luke makes no reply, his eyes closed, a quiet smile on his face. Aurora wonders what he's dreaming about right now.
"Thank you," she says quietly, and closes her own eyes. The warmth of her memories merges with the warmth of the present. Perhaps someday, this moment will become one of her treasured memories. Perhaps it will become a dream.
A/N: This was a request for Asaliz on tumblr, for the prompt "Afraid to sleep." I'm sorry for taking so long with this; I rewrote it so many times and still wasn't satisfied. I think it's as good as it's going to get now, haha. This is my first time writing Aurora, and my first time writing extensively about Luke as well, so I hope that it's alright.
The idea of Aurora not dreaming is inspired by an episode of my favourite anime, Astro Boy 1980. Astro, the main character, is a robot with feelings, like Aurora, but is unable to dream, which makes him feel isolated from his friends at school, who are all human. While Aurora isn't aware that she's a golem yet, I thought that she might start to notice things that were different about her from her friends.
Thanks so much for reading!