“Hey, Geralt,” Jaskier calls for Geralt’s attention from where he’s locking the mages wrists into dimeritum laced cuffs. “Come take a look at this.
Geralt drags the mage by the arm and drops him at their feet as he makes his way to Jaskier. “What is it?”
In front of him sits a partially covered mirror. When he tugs the sheet off, he can see it’s ornate trim with elder text engraved across the top.
“‘Let your heart’s desire be revealed,’” Jaskier reads, glancing down at his reflection standing next to Geralt’s. It seems rather normal.
“Ah, that’s a pride of my collection.” Geralt glares harshly at the man at his feet, but he clearly takes no notice. “It’s enchanted, as you might have guessed, to show the viewer their deepest desire.”
Jaskier waves his hands in front of it a few times, making a face. “Doesn’t seem all that enchanted to me. Geralt?”
He laughs softly, eyes trained on Jaskier. “Looks like a normal mirror.”
The mage scoffs. “I assure you, it is not! I look at it, for example, and see myself standing with the most beautiful woman on my arm.”
“Well, I think you might just be a bit wrong in the head because-“
He freezes. In their reflection, Jaskier sees himself reach for Geralts hand and intertwine their fingers. He stares dumbfoundedly as mirror Geralt leans down and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Ah,” Jaskier presses a hand to the point of contact, cheeks warm. “Well, maybe there’s some truth to it after all.”
“Hm.” Geralt looks down, sure that if he looked at the Jaskier’s magical reflection for one moment longer, with his arms thrown over Geralt’s shoulder and- gods, and with his face buried in his neck- he’d combust on the spot. “Maybe.”
