The next few days passed in a pleasant blur for Geralt. It was amazing what a holiday and some mind-blowing sex could do for the mind, body and soul. Jaskier seemed to be enjoying himself, too. He'd smiled more in recent days than he had in the last three years. Geralt privately conceded that perhaps Jaskier taking some personal time to spend with his family was really a good thing, and made a mental note to allow him more holiday time in future.
He didn't want to think of what life would be like when they returned to Tretegor; most likely, things would go back to the way they were before. That meant no more family dinners around the kitchen table; it would be back to eating cheap takeaways in his sizable apartment with only a never-ending pile of manuscripts for company. No more bone-crushing hugs from Jaskier's diminutive grandmother or embarrassing stories from Mary about Jaskier's childhood antics. God, he'd even miss Jaskier's father. Okay, he wouldn't miss Albert, but the man was a decent Gwent player, and that had to count for something.
And then there was Jaskier. Sure, they would see each other every day in the office, but the barriers that they'd spent the last week working so hard to tear down would go right back up again. Jaskier would probably go back to hating his guts while simultaneously being the best assistant anyone could ask for. Sure, that had been what they planned right from the very beginning. So why was he feeling so reluctant to follow through when they were so close to the finish line?
The day before the wedding ceremony, Geralt and the Pankratz clan sailed to the mainland to make any final adjustments needed for their outfits for the big day. Grammy was helping Jaskier put on his cufflinks while Mary pinned a bright yellow ranunculus to Geralt's lapel.
"I was thinking," Mary ventured. "Maybe we could head down your way for Christmas this year."
Geralt stiffened. "Yes, that would be nice." He glanced in Jaskier's direction, but he was too busy trying out different ties with his grandmother to hear what his mother had said. "Or...maybe we could come to you again."
Mary, who had looked close to tears all morning, choked back a sob as she nodded. "Well, that would be lovely. I'd like that very much."
And then she burst into tears.
"What the hell's going on?" Albert marched across the room and pointed accusingly at Geralt. "What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Geralt raised his hands in surrender. "I didn't do anything, I swear."
"What's happened?" asked Grammy as she and Jaskier hurried over.
"It's not Geralt," Mary squeaked, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. "It's...oh, I'm just so happy!"
Jaskier, Grammy and Albert groaned. Albert patted her on the back. "I know you are, honey. Could you go to the cafe across the street and order us some lunch while I finish up here?"
Mary sniffed loudly and nodded. "Okay. Geralt, how does soup and a sandwich sound?"
"That'd be lovely, thank you."
As Mary exited the shop, Grammy grabbed Jaskier's arm. "Come on, we'll give your mum a hand. Don't doddle, you two," she said to Geralt and Albert. "And change back into your normal clothes before you leave, we don't want to get food down your wedding suits!"
As Grammy quickly steered a reluctant Jaskier out of the shop, Geralt was left alone with Albert. An awkward silence followed.
Albert cleared his throat. "You have to forgive Mary. She's just so excited, y'know?"
"There's nothing to forgive," Geralt assured him.
Albert nodded and bowed his head. "I uh...I know that I haven't been the most welcoming since you arrived..."
"Really, I hadn't noticed."
A smirk flitted across Albert's face. "You have to see it from where I'm coming from. For the last three years all I'd heard was what a ballbuster you were. And then, all of a sudden, my only son turns up on our doorstep with you on his arm, and we're all just expected to welcome you with open arms. To say that I was surprised would be a gross understatement."
Geralt said nothing because what was there to say? Everything that Albert said was true. Albert shook his head and looked up at Geralt.
"But I'm not above admitting when I'm wrong, and I was wrong about you, Geralt. I might not understand the circumstances that brought you two together, but I can see that you and Jay make each other happy. And I've come to realise that's enough, really. All I ask is that you and Jay come visit us more often. It would mean the world to Mary. And to me." Geralt nodded jerkily, unable to speak. Albert patted him on the shoulder before heading to the changing rooms, leaving Geralt alone to stew in his own thoughts.
"Geralt, are you alright, dear?" asked Mary gently. "You've barely touched your food."
After changing out of the suit he'd wear to his sham wedding, Geralt joined the Pankratz family in the cafe across the street for lunch. Not that he had much of an appetite, his stomach was twisting like a bag of snakes.
"I'm fine," he lied. "Just pre-wedding jitters."
"I felt the same way before my big day," she confided. "I was so nervous that I thought that I was going to pass out. But when I turned that corner and I saw Al waiting for me at the altar, all of my fears and doubts vanished in an instant. It'll be the same for you tomorrow, I promise. Just remember: the day is about you and Jay, nobody else."
"Thanks," Geralt mumbled, not feeling the slightest bit appeased by Mary's sage advice.
Grammy nudged him in the ribs and whispered, ""I'll give you some of my xanax when we get home. That'll help take the edge off."
Geralt offered her an appreciative smile. While the family may have been convinced that Geralt was suffering from a bout of nerves, Jaskier knew better. He kept shooting Geralt worried glances across the cafe table. Unable to speak candidly in front of Jaskier's family, they had to wait until everyone had finished their lunch and exited the cafe before they could talk.
"So, Geralt and I are going to—" Jaskier looked up and down the busy high street for inspiration before his gaze landed on the local beauticians. "—get pedis done before the big day tomorrow!"
"Pedicures?" asked Mary curiously.
"Why didn't you invite your mother and I?" Grammy pouted. "We would have enjoyed that."
"Sorry, but I just want a little alone time with the future hubby," Jaskier lied, pulling Geralt away from his family. "We shouldn't be more than an hour!"
Mary and Grammy exchanged confused looks before Grammy shrugged. "Alright, then. Come on, Mary. We need to go pick up the rings."
"I'll meet you all back at the boat," said Albert gruffly, waving over his shoulder as he headed in the direction of the harbour.
When his family were out of earshot, Jaskier lowered his voice and asked, "What did my dad say to you?"
Geralt sighed. "He apologised to me."
"What?"
"Well, it wasn't so much an apology as him admitting that he was wrong about me and that he's happy that we make each other happy."
Jaskier, far from being pleased to hear that his father had warmed somewhat to his future son-in-law, looked furious. "Unbelievable! I spend my entire life trying to impress that bastard, wishing that he would say one nice thing to me, and nothing. You're here for a week and he's practically telling you the sun shines out of your arse!"
"That really isn't how the conversation went," Geralt argued.
"Let's sign a prenup," Jaskier ranted. "How about after we divorce, you get to keep my father? I'm sure that would make all parties involved much happier!"
Geralt rolled his eyes. He knew it was better just to let Jaskier's anger run its course before speaking again. With nowhere else to go for the next hour, they went to the beauticians. As luck would have it, they had space for walk-in appointments. Then they decided, to hell with it, and got manicures done as well. When in Redania...
"He's just happy that we make each other happy, is he?" Jaskier muttered as he wiggled his toes in the footbath. "Absolute wanker."
"Are you done?" Geralt grumbled, glaring at Jaskier over the top of his magazine.
"Not quite," he continued. "I mean, if anyone deserves an apology, it's me! I'm the one that's been putting up with his crap all of these years. I—" Jaskier stopped when he saw the bemused expression on Geralt's face. "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," he lied, keeping his gaze fixed on an article entitled How to Stop Overthinking Your Situationship.
"I suppose I should be relieved. After he talked to you, I saw the look on your face and I thought..." Jaskier lowered his voice. "I thought he'd figured out the truth and had confronted you about it. Well, that or I thought that he was offering you money to call off the wedding."
Geralt lowered the magazine. "Would your dad really do something like that?"
"If he thought that you weren't good for the family? Absolutely."
"I wouldn't have accepted, you know," Geralt assured him. "If he tried something like that. I'd turn him down."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really." Geralt turned his attention back to his magazine. "There'd be no point since I'm independently wealthy."
Jaskier snorted. "Of course."
An hour later, with their hands and feet suitably pampered, Geralt and Jaskier exited the beauticians where Mary and Grammy stood waiting for them. Together, they headed back to the harbour, discussing final preparations for the wedding.
As they approached the water, Mary pointed towards their boat and asked, "Who's that man your dad is talking to?"
Both Jaskier and Geralt looked and saw Albert speaking to a burly, bald-headed man with a mean face. Geralt's blood ran cold—it was Sigismund Dijkstra.
Geralt fought down the instinct to turn tail and run. Instead, he kept walking towards the harbour to what felt like certain doom. Relief flooded him when he felt Jaskier's hand slip into his own.
"Keep it together," Jaskier whispered.
They watched with mounting panic as Dijkstra handed something that looked like a business card to Albert before turning to leave, but not before he caught sight of the Pankratz clan and Geralt approaching. A rapacious grin spread across his smooth face and he waved towards the pair before stuffing his hands into his pockets and sauntering up the high street and disappearing through the crowd.
"Who was that?" asked Mary as she climbed aboard the boat.
Albert glanced at Geralt. If looks could kill, he surely would have been struck down dead right there and then.
"No one," Albert lied. "Just a tourist looking for directions to the pub."
Mary and Gammy chatted animatedly to one another as they sailed back to the island. Geralt concentrated on not throwing up, a viscous combination of seasickness and nerves. Once they docked the boat and disembarked, Mary and Grammy made their way back up towards the house. Jaskier and Geralt tried to follow but Albert called after them.
"You boys stay right where you are," he said. "I need your help unpacking something."
The trio waited until the Pankratz women were a safe distance away before Albert finally spoke again.
"I won't insult my intelligence by even asking if it's true," he said. "The way that you two reacted when you saw that man all but confirmed it, anyway."
Jaskier took a step towards his father. "Dad—"
"Here's what's going to happen," Albert cut in. "We're going to go back up to the house and play happy families. We'll have a nice meal, and then we'll head to bed for the evening. Then you two are going to have a fight, it doesn't matter what it's about, but it's big enough to call off the wedding. Your mother and grandmother will be devastated, but that's nothing compared to how they'd react to the truth."
"Dad," Jaskier pleaded. "Please—"
"And then you're going to pack your bags and in the morning, I'll sail you back to the mainland myself," Albert shouted, jabbing Geralt in the sternum. "You can make the rest of the journey home on your own."
"Dad! Just stop!" Jaskier shouted.
"You're lucky that I never threw your arse overboard when I had the chance," Albert snarled before rounding and Jaskier. "And you! I know that we've had our disagreements in the past, but I've never had reason to be ashamed of you—until now."
Jaskier looked as though his father's words had physically struck him. Albert shook his head in disgust. "I can't even look at you."
As he started to walk away, Jaskier spoke up. "No."
Albert stopped and turned to face his son. "Excuse me?"
"No, that's not what's going to happen," said Jaskier. "What's going to happen is tomorrow, Geralt and I are going to be married—"
"Jaskier, that is enough!"
"With or without you there to witness it!" Jaskier shouted back.
"If you go through with this, you could go to jail!" Albert cried. "No job and no boss is worth throwing your life away for!"
"Here's the truth, Dad," said Jaskier. "Geralt and I fell in love, and tomorrow, we're going to be married. You don't have to like it. You don't even have to accept it. Because it's happening. End of story."
Jaskier pushed past his father and marched back towards the house. Geralt began to follow and paused when Albert called after him.
"If you care for my son at all, then you will stop this madness," he said. The desperation in his voice was clear. "You're the one with the power here, you're the only one that he'll listen to."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," said Geralt. "Once he has his mind set on something, he's like an immovable object."
"He's my son, Geralt," he said weakly.
He didn't say anything else after that. Unable to meet the man's eye, Geralt kept walking.
"Are you sure about this?" asked Geralt.
Jaskier lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. "Not really."
While Geralt was confident that Albert wouldn't say anything to Mary and Grammy, that did little to quell his doubts that they should continue with this charade a second longer. The situation had gotten out of control. Dijkstra was in Oxenfurt. Jaskier's father knew the truth. And there was a real risk that Jaskier could be sent to jail and Geralt would be deported anyway. Albert was right: nothing and no one was worth all of this, certainly not Geralt.
Geralt sat down on the bed next to him. "Look, I'm really appreciative of everything you've done—"
Knock knock.
The door creaked open and Grammy's smiling face appeared. "I hope everyone is decent!"
Jaskier sat upright as she entered the room and grabbed the patchwork blanket from the bedside table. "You need to come with me, Jay. Tomorrow is your wedding day, so you have to give the babymaker a rest tonight."
"We weren't going to use it," Jaskier groaned.
"Uh huh," Grammy chuckled and headed for the exit. "Now you give your husband-to-be a kiss goodnight. You've got your whole lives to be together!"
Jaskier turned to Geralt, looking more uncertain now than when they had first arrived on the island. "See you in the morning?"
"Yeah," Geralt nodded. "See you in the morning."
Jaskier hesitated before following his grandmother out into the hall. Geralt quietly closed the door behind him before resting his head against the door.
"Goodbye, Jaskier," he said quietly before pushing himself away from the door, grabbed a duffel bag and began packing his things.