“I remember Broken being a lot less intense, lass.”
I grumbled and dropped my self next to Bergen at the bar.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking about the place.
At first glance, I felt like we were in a 10th century tavern somewhere in the middle of…
“Jorvik,” I said.
“The Wandering Wench,” he said.
Bergen grinned, flashed his smile at me, and threw back his tankard.
“Oh my god,” I said. “I haven’t written the word ‘tankard’ in…
“Eight years, lass.”
“Has it been so long?”
“It has,” he growled. “Whatever happened to my books?”
“You said you would write them,” I said.
“Aye,” he said. “Then you went all granola crunchy on us, lass.”
“So what are we doing here?”
He shrugged and took another drink from his tankard.
“It’s been awhile, just you and I.”
“It has,” I said.
“Too long,” he added.
“I’m not having sex with you again, Bergen.”
“For now,” he said, flashing his grin again. He took a long drink, placed the tankard on the counter before continuing. “You had a rough day. You need to talk.”
“Haven’t I done enough talking?”
He shrugged. “You tell me.”
“I just want certainty,” I said. “Certainty that the man I love will still be there tomorrow morning when the sun comes up. Certainty that the business I am building will thrive.”
“Aye, that it will, lass, you know it will.”
“I want this hell behind me. I want my mind to just be a certain way. My thoughts to be a certain way. You know, sometimes, I think that is all this is. Just thoughts. We think positive. Our emotions shift, and we feel good. We have a bad day. We have one bad thought and boom! Bad feelings. Bad day.”
“Aye, that is the way of it.”
“Bergen?”
“Your Highness?”
“Thank you.”
“Awe, what for, love?”
“All the times you held my hand while they…”
“I am at your service, my Queen. Always.”
“This is a transition,” I said.
“Aye, lass. That it is. A hell of one too.”
“I miss Gunir. And Lorlenalin.”
Bergen lowered his tankard and stared at me.
“I miss writing your story and Rune’s and Kallan’s.”
“You did leave her in a pretty bad way there, love.”
“Yeah… Walking the ruins of her dead city while the ash settled down around her. Why are we talking about this?”
“Because you wrote ‘tankard,'” Bergen said.
“Yeah, I did.”
“You know where you’re going to, lass. Never let anyone else tell you otherwise. This is your road. You don’t have to let people go. Nor do they need to be at your side along the way. So long as you know they’re there. This is your world. You’re building your future. You can make it and yourself into anything you can imagine up. Remember what Imagination always says?”
“We are the gods long forgotten who have the power to create anything inside of us,” I said.
“Aye. So… Who do you want to be? What life do you want for yourself? Whatever you can imagine. Whatever you dare to dream up. Imagine yourself healed. What do you want?”
“My Number #1. Is that so bad? I’m going to need a team where I’m going. And I want him to be first in line.”
“Then stop worrying about whether or not he’s going to be staying,” Bergen said. “He’s not a Narcissist. You’re not in that old world anymore. You’re free, lass. If you want him at your side, then do what you gotta do to make it happen.”
“When something triggers us it’s because we believe on some level that it is true for us.” – JBirdFit … from Facebook.
“So then you need to ask yourself, what is it you are believing to be true that you are afraid?” Bergen asked.
“Last night?” I asked. “That things were over. That… we had become so isolated and independent that we were no longer a part of each other’s lives.”
“Jo.”
I blinked at Bergen and let out a short laugh.
“That man of yours loves you. The only problem you have is you don’t know what love looks like to recognize it.”
“It’s hard to recognize love when he’s always pulling away,” I said.
“To protect himself. His protection system to keep him safe is a fortress. You’ve fallen in love with a fortress. You are a warrior.”
“I wish…”
“Aye, there you go. Imagination would be so proud of you.”
“I wish I could see what love looks like. I wish I could recognize love.”
“That’s a good one. Do another.”
“I wish I could purge all this trauma toxin from my body and mind so that I could see the chess board clearly enough to play the game safely.”
“Again.”
“I wish I could live without traumas and triggers and flashbacks once and for all!”
“Let me ask you… Why this man?”
“He’s good. I can tell. His head is all in the right places. And he is so damn sexy when he dances. He makes me laugh. And no one makes me laugh. And good god, do I need to laugh.”
“So then, lass… you know what your problem is. You need to laugh more.”
“I do.”