"Sometimes." Tyr's fingers drummed lightly on the table. "Though it's changed so much I hardly recognize it now. The old Hanseatic wharf is a tourist attraction these days. But the mountains still look the same, and the fjords..." A wistful note crept into his voice. "Those haven't changed in a thousand years."
Beth speared another piece of pancake and hummed in pleasure, the blueberries bursting with sweetness. "I've always dreamed of taking one of those cruises through the Norwegian fjords." She smiled, picturing the majestic landscapes she'd seen in travel magazines. "The photos look incredible - those towering cliffs rising straight from the water, waterfalls everywhere..."
"The photos don't do them justice." Tyr's eyes lit up. "Especially at dawn, when the mist clings to the cliffs and the water turns to liquid gold. Though, I suppose the cruise ships are quite different from the trading vessels I remember."
"Indubitably." Beth grinned at him, and drizzled more syrup over her remaining pancakes. "The brochures all show these massive cruise ships with buffets and swimming pools. Probably not quite the same as medieval merchant vessels."
"Not quite." Tyr's rich laugh filled the space between them. "Though I must say, the modern amenities are a vast improvement over what we had. Sleeping on wooden planks with rats for company wasn't exactly luxury travel."
Beth wrinkled her nose, taking another bite. "Okay, maybe some changes are for the better."
"The views though..." Tyr's voice softened with memory. "Those are eternal. The way the mountains meet the sea, the play of light on the water - that hasn't changed since the Vikings first sailed those waters."
Beth sighed, a wistful sound that carried dreams of far-off places. "Definitely on my bucket list. Along with seeing the Northern Lights from one of those glass igloos in Finland."
Tyr's rich laugh echoed across the quiet diner. "A bucket list, hmm? What else is on this list of yours?"
"Learning to scuba dive. Seeing the pyramids."
"So what else?" Tyr leaned forward, genuinely interested. "Surely there's more."
"Well..." Beth pushed a stray blueberry through the puddle of syrup on her plate, watching it leave a golden trail. "Most of my dreams weren't about what I wanted to do. They were about what I desperately hoped I wouldn't become."
She took a steadying breath, her fingers tightening around her fork. "Growing up, we - my sister Naomi and I - were told it was inevitable that we would eventually become rogues. Killers without remorse. They said it was our birthright." The blueberry made another lazy circle through the syrup. "So my biggest dream was just... not turning into a psychopathic killer."
Her voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. "Every birthday, every milestone - there was always this shadow hanging over everything. This fear that today might be the day I'd lose myself. That I'd wake up covered in blood, with no memory of what I'd done." She ducked her head. "I spent more time planning how to contain the monster I thought I'd become than actually dreaming about my future."
The cool touch of Tyr's fingers against her hand startled her. She hadn't realized how tightly she'd been gripping her fork until his gentle touch made her release it.
"That must have been terrifying for a child," he said softly.
"It was. Naomi and I swore to each other that we'd never become that - never hurt the people we loved, no matter what." Her throat tightened. "But then it happened anyway. The first time Neil and I..." She stopped, heat flooding her cheeks. "After we made love. I fell asleep in his arms, and when I woke up, I was soaked in blood. Neil was dead beside me, and I had no memory of how it happened. I remember falling asleep and then... nothing. Just a blank where my memory should have been."
"But you weren't the one who killed him." Tyr's voice carried quiet certainty.
"No." The word came out as barely a whisper. Beth stared down at her half-eaten pancakes, no longer hungry. "But I didn'tknow that, back then. I lived with that belief - that I'd killed the man I loved - for almost two years. That I'd become exactly what they always said I would."
Her throat tightened as the old pain washed over her. "Even now, knowing the truth, I can't..." She swallowed hard. "I can't shake those feelings. The guilt, the self-hatred, the certainty that I'm dangerous. That I'll hurt someone again."
She stared down at her plate. "Every time I close my eyes, I still see his blood on my hands. Still feel that crushing certainty that I'm a monster. And even though I know now it wasn't me..." Her voice cracked. "Those feelings don't just go away."
Cool fingers wrapped around Beth's hand, anchoring her to the present moment. Tyr's thumb traced gentle circles on her palm, the soothing motion drawing her out of the dark memories.
"Have you considered talking to someone?" His voice carried genuine concern. "A professional, I mean. Someone who specializes in trauma?"
"I am, actually." Beth managed a watery smile. "Dr. Harrison, a shifter. Well, obviously. She's been helping me work through everything. Naomi too, my sister. Sometimes we go together for joint sessions."
"Good. That's really good." Tyr's fingers squeezed hers gently. "Trauma like that needs proper care and healing."
Beth took a shaky breath, the weight of the conversation settling around them. Then the absurdity of the situation hit her, and a bubble of laughter escaped her throat. Here she sat in a diner at dawn, being counseled about mental health by a centuries-old vampire.
"What's funny?" Tyr's eyebrows drew together in confusion.
"Sorry, it's just..." Beth pressed her free hand to her mouth, trying to contain her giggles. "Here you are, a seven hundred year old vampire, giving me therapy advice."
Tyr's lips twitched.
Alice appeared beside their table, coffee pot hovering over Tyr's cup. "Top off?"
