Chapter 11

                                    

                                          
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..."