The Proposal

Epilogue

As always, the immigration office in Tretogor was mobbed. Seemingly endless rows of people from every walk of life sat in hard plastic seats, waiting (sometimes for hours) to be seen by overworked and underpaid government workers. Nobody wanted to be there. Babies cried. Grown adults cried. People shouted out of frustration or just in an effort to be heard over everyone else. It was like this every day, from open til close. And today, Geralt and Jaskier were among the masses. Somehow, Geralt was able to tune out the surrounding rabble, merely looking bored as he sent work emails through his phone. Jaskier, meanwhile, sat by his side, bouncing his left knee up and down nervously as they waited.

"You're doing it again," Geralt pointed out unnecessarily.

"I can't help it," Jaskier whispered before glaring at his husband. "I don't know how you're being so calm about this."

"I'm calm because nothing is going to happen."

"I could go to jail, you know."

"You're not going to jail, Jaskier."

"How do you know?"

"Because we both just smashed our interviews," Geralt reasoned. "Everything we told Dijkstra is completely above board. He might not like that, but he doesn't have to like it."

Jaskier sighed and slumped back in his chair. Geralt had a point. They had been called into Dijkstra's office earlier that morning, individually at first and then as a pair. Dijkstra had sat behind his desk with his black clipboard and biro, and a long list of questions at the ready for them. Geralt and Jaskier had agreed to answer each one in turn and answer them truthfully.

"What were your first impressions of each other?" asked Dijkstra.

"Pleasant, hard-working, a demonstrably talented writer," said Geralt. "Not that I cared much about any of that, my primary concern was that he got my coffee order right in the morning."

"I hated his guts," Jaskier admitted. "Geralt's been nothing but a pain in my arse for the last three years."

"Uh huh," Dijkstra replied, scribbling down some notes. "And now?"

"He's still a pain in my arse," Jaskier admitted. "But a good pain. Oh, that sounds a bit dodgy, doesn't it? Can we strike that from the record?"

"No."

"Fine, then I stand by what I said, Geralt is a pleasant pain in my arse," he declared. "Put that on record and make it official!"

"I doubt anyone else but me will ever read your files," Dijkstra sighed. "When did you first establish your relationship?"

"Last week," Jaskier replied.

Dijkstra frowned. "And was this before or after you got married?"

"Hard to say," Jaskier shrugged. "It's been a busy couple of weeks."

"Right," Dijkstra replied slowly. "So, when did you two start living together?"

"Today," they replied in unison before Jaskier continued, "We just got back from my parents' yesterday. They've actually come to Tretogor to help me move my stuff into Geralt's flat."

"It's not a flat, I live in the penthouse suite in my building," Geralt corrected him.

"That's literally a flat," Jaskier laughed.

Geralt's eyes narrowed. "Are you seriously arguing with me about this now?"

"I'm not arguing with you about anything!" Jaskier cried. "You're the one that's getting your knickers in a twist—"

"Moving on," Dijkstra cut in. "When and where did you have your first date?"

"We haven't actually had our first proper date yet," Geralt had admitted. "I'm actually planning on taking Jaskier out for dinner after we wrap things up here, so can we speed things along, please?"

Dijkstra had glowered at the pair but continued his interrogation nonetheless. If he had hoped to trip them up or catch them out in a lie, his plan had failed spectacularly. Because they had answered truthfully, everything they said matched up perfectly. Even Jaskier was surprised at how much Geralt had learned about him over the past couple of weeks. It only made Jaskier love him even more for it.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Albert grumbled, checking his watch for the umpteenth time.

"Asking that over and over again isn't going to make this go any faster," said Mary.

Albert crossed his arms and muttered mutinously under his breath about what a waste of time this all was. Albert, Mary and Grammy Violet had all decided to join Geralt and Jaskier at the immigration office to provide testimony in support of their case. And to offer moral support, of course. Albert might have bemoaned being here, but his being here spoke volumes, and that meant the world to Jaskier.

A few more minutes went by, and Dijkstra's office door swung open. He ushered Grammy, who had the infamous babymaker tucked under one arm, out of his office before addressing Jaskier and Geralt directly.

"Mr and Mr Haute-Bellegarde," he said. "I'm satisfied that no fraud has been committed. You are free to go."

"I can leave?" said Jaskier, rising to his feet. "I'm not going to jail?"

"Not today," Dijkstra replied. Before closing the door, he said, "Congratulations on your recent nuptials. I wish you both a long and happy life together."

And with that, Sigismund Dijkstra slammed his office door shut in their faces.

Jaskier turned to his grandmother. "What just happened?"

"I think we can finally go get something to eat," said Albert. "About bloody time too, I'm starving."

"What did you say to him?" asked Mary.

"I told him the truth: that I had witnessed with my own eyes two fine young men fall in love with each other." She smiled before giving the patchwork quilt an affectionate pat. "I also told him that if he wanted proof that the marriage had been consummated, then he need only take a DNA sample from the babymaker."

"Grammy," Jaskier groaned. "That's disgusting!"

"It's a natural bodily function, Jay, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" she argued. "I really tried my best to convince Mr Dijkstra to take the blanket for testing, but he didn't seem all that keen, I can't imagine why. After that, he said he'd seen and heard quite enough, and he ended our interview."

Geralt laughed and pulled Grammy in for a hug. "You're a genius. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my dear," she grinned, patting him on the back before thrusting the blanket into his hands. "Here, you're going to need this."

"I'll take that," Jaskier snatched the blanket from Geralt and made a beeline for the exit. "Let's get the hell out of here before they change their minds about throwing me in a jail cell."

The Pankratz clan exited the government building with only one thing on their minds: lunch. While Albert, Mary and Grammy discussed where they'd like to eat, Geralt grabbed Jaskier's hand and pulled his husband in for a long, lingering kiss. When he eventually pulled away, Jaskier looked up at Geralt with a curious expression.

"What was that for?" he asked.

Geralt shrugged. "I just felt like doing it."

"Oh." Jaskier couldn't help the goofy smile that spread across his face. "Well, feel free to do it more often."

The pair walked hand in hand down the street with their family. They could discuss where to go on their first date together after lunch.

THE END