I stared into the eyes of my best friend, and the mimic stared back. It was so close to being flawless. They always were. Every thread of hair, every curve of a body, every cut of fabric or clothing; an ideal copy down to the last freckle or blemish. Not that Alira had freckles or blemishes, of course. Stupid perfect elves.

I sighed. The creature in front of me wasn't an elf. No matter how incredible the copy was, there was always something missing. It was the eyes, usually. Perfect in shape but held wider than they should be, a permanent expression of childlike surprise. Sometimes it was the way they walked, or the inflection of their speech, but there was always something, and in this case it was the eyes. Shape was much easier to copy than self.

“Great,” said Artur, “Lets go.”

I turned towards my sometime partner and fixed him with my best; 'excuse me young man, just what do you think you are doing?' look. Artur winked back at me. So he knew, at least. That was something. He might be an idiot, but at least the mimic hadn't fooled him. Probably I was the idiot, since I followed wherever he took me. His plans did have a way of working out though, so I decided to keep quiet and looked past him to the fourth and final member of our group.

Ryfon was flicking a knife into the air and catching it by the point, a listless display of inherent dexterity. His half-elf heritage didn't grant him the seamless perfection or magical power held by Alira, but he made up for it with the irritating nonchalance of a post human physiology. He was gorgeously attractive, if a little too effeminate for my tastes; a fact which never seemed to hinder his conquests in whatever tavern we found ourselves spending the night.

I knew he was in love with Alira. I also knew that he had accepted the futility of those feelings. Our consummate elven priestess was not one for carnal pleasures, so each night Ryfon would set himself to the task of bedding some tavern girl while Alira turned down suitor after suitor and myself and Artur drank. And then went to bed together, more often than not. Nothing official, something routine. I would have liked more variety, but when your best friend is an Elf who draws the eyes of every man in the room, your options are limited. So I ended up with Artur; my strong and gentle, boring and comfortable default. It wasn't exactly the life I had planned for myself as a young girl dreaming of adventure, but honestly? It wasn't so bad.

Ryfon shrugged, catching his knife and twirling it through his fingers until it came to rest pointing at the road out of town.

“After you,” he said.

I checked the quiver slung over my shoulder, made sure my bow and strings were in easy reach, and fell into step beside Artur. My head didn't even reach to his shoulder but there was something immensely comforting about walking by the big man's side. The constant thud of his heavy footsteps into the dirt of the road, the way he smiled as he looked down at me, the fact that the axe on his back was almost the same size I was. My eyes scanned the forest for danger, but even so. I felt safe.

We continued through the forest in a similar manner, me stalking forward without making a sound while Artur stomped at my side. I wasn't going to sneak up on anything with him around, but habits are habits. You don't get good at something by only doing it when it's necessary. A glance back over my shoulder told me that Ryfon and the mimic were following, but out of earshot. Time to make sense of the situation.

“Why are we taking a mimi-”

“Shhh,” interrupted Artur. “It'll disappear if it hears.”

It was true. No-one knew what the mimics were, or where they came from. Mostly they were harmless, pretending to be one inanimate object or another, disappearing or switching places with something to cause minor havoc. Irritating, like many Fae creatures, but not especially dangerous. The stranger varieties were those that took humanoid forms, copying the lives of regular people. Druids and wizards argued back and forth over the reasons for it; loneliness, desire for human connection, a deeper and more sinister purpose, but one thing always stayed the same. If you let them know that you knew they were a mimic, they disappeared in a puff of magical energy.

“Okay,” I said, lowering my voice. “What happened to Alira?”

“Broke her arm.”

“She broke her-What? She's a priestess! What was she doing?”

“Don't know, didn't ask. Lucked out having an Elf priestess at all, I don't question her. Took her to the church, left her there, when I walked back out there she was. The other her. The mi-” He stopped himself from saying the word.

“So you what, adopted her?”

“Fourth set of hands. Could be useful. Told her to meet us in the morning. She agreed.”

“Does Ryfon know?”

“Of course, he's half Elf.”

That was a good point. My senses were sharp, honed by years spent hunting, but they still paled compared to someone with Elven blood. If I had noticed, Ryfon had. I glanced back again at the pair behind us, laughing in pleasant conversation.

“He's dealing with it well,” I said.

Artur laughed. “Nicest she's ever been to him.”

He was probably right. Rogues and Priestesses didn't mix too well, as a rule. Even less so when one was near immortal and the other was an outcast of two races. I shrugged.

“Alright, fine. You want to head straight to the ruins? Couple of hours away from here.”

“Rest first. Anywhere close?”

I scanned the foliage, sniffed the air and drew on my mental map of the region. I pointed to the south. “There's a lake, Elea, twenty, maybe thirty minutes in that direction.”

“Good enough.”

We trudged onwards, listening to the pair behind us, making our own small talk against their backdrop of flirtatious giggling. I planned out our route, leading through the dense undergrowth but never straying too far from Artur's side. The going was quick, and I had been conservative in my estimation of time. Fifteen minutes later we stepped out of the forest and onto the stony surroundings of the small lake.

Lake Elea was a thing of natural beauty. Secluded away, barely large enough for the name, ten acres of fresh, clear water surrounded by forest and teeming with wildlife. I arrived first and took in a deep breath, listening to the sounds of insects and amphibians, marvelling at a herd of deer grazing on the other side of the body of water. Then Artur stomped out of the trees behind me, the insects scattered, the deer fled, the air quietened. He splashed into the water and began refilling his canteen.

Warriors. No appreciation for natural beauty.

Ryfon and Alira joined us on the shore, both looking past Artur and taking a moment to admire the view. At least some of my companions had taste. Ryfon's ancestry gave him an affinity for nature, but I wondered about the mimic. Was this behaviour faked as well, the mimic using its strange powers to ape the way her true self would react? Or was the strange creature as enthralled by the view as I was?

I watched the pair of them, thinking about the mimic. One of so many things about this world we still didn't understand. I turned everything I knew about the species over in my mind, coming up with nothing useful at all. But I did see the smirk touch the corners of Ryfon's mouth.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked Alira.

“Wondrous,” replied the mimic. “The view is simply staggering.”

The pleasant, aristocratic tones and choice of words were an almost exact match for the Alira I knew well. The eyes were still too wide, the demeanour a touch too naive, but it was so close. Easy to forget what the creature actually was, to look past the flaws and accept it as one of your friends.

“Okay,” said Ryfon. “I only asked because normally, whenever you see a gorgeous body of water like this, you make us wait until you've stripped naked and gone for a swim.”

“Well of course I do. I was taking a moment to admire the scenery.”

The back and forth was so quick I barely had time to register what had happened. Ryfon's words had been a lie. A good one, delivered with his trademark charisma, but an outright fabrication nonetheless. And the mimic hadn't skipped a beat, lacking the memory to separate fantasy from reality and willing to do anything to avoid detection. My eternally chaste best friend shrugged one shoulder out of her robes and I took a step forward to stop her.

A large arm blocked my path and I looked up to see Artur standing over me. I gave him the same look I had earlier.

“Don't tell me you're not a little curious,” he said.

I looked back at Alira. At the mimic. My heart skipped a beat, dancing around in my chest. She was so, so beautiful. Her skin was pure, clean, almost ghostly pale where mine was pink and freckled and scarred. Her hair was long, straight and white, and it shimmered as if catching the light reflected from the water's edge. Mine was a dirty, curly red. She was a foot taller than me, her chest was fuller, her hips wider, her cheekbones higher, even her tummy was tighter than mine, and she sat around praying all day while I lunged through forests and sprinted across plains, chasing down our dinner. It just wasn't fair.

Stupid, perfect, sexy elves.

Artur wasn't even looking at me, his entire attention focused on the few inches of exposed skin between Alira's neck and the dress slowly slipping down her body. I closed my eyes, and anger bubbled up inside me.

Fine, you know what? I was jealous. There. I admit it. I liked Alira. Respected her. We were friends, more than that. We had our differences, sure, but we were as close as any two women travelling with an idiot like Artur and a lech like Ryfon would be. She was the closest thing I had to a family. To a sister. A sister who was better than me in every conceivable way.

It was only natural that I wanted to see her knocked down a peg or two.

And the creature undressing in front of me wasn't even Alira. Why shouldn't I indulge my curiosity?

“Maybe a little,” I said.

Artur didn't acknowledge the reply. The dress slipped off the other shoulder and fell downwards, exposing Alira to the waist. I heard both men take a deep breath, and wasn't entirely sure I hadn't taken one myself.

My previous complaints about Alira's body paled in comparison to reality. She was inhumanly, ethereally perfect, a white marble masterpiece sculpted by the greatest of artisans. And how could one be so trim and so… big? I glanced down at my own chest, then back up to hers. Some things really weren't fair.

She loosened the tie around her waist and the dress fell the rest of the way, sliding down the skin of her legs. They were as perfect as everything else, shapely, and strong, and smooth, despite that I knew for a fact she didn't shave. She kicked off her shoes and rose onto her tiptoes, one leg taking a long stride towards the lake.

“Just the three of us?” she asked.

I started, looked around, and realised the men had stripped off their clothes as well. I'd been so focused on Alira I hadn't even noticed, but now I couldn't help staring. Artur I had seen naked already, of course, and while his well muscled warrior's body was a pleasing sight it wasn't what grabbed my attention.

Ryfon was slim, lithe, almost girlish. Tight muscles, washboard abs, long hair; a near cliché portrait of the charming, effeminate rogue. And one sporting the thickest cock I had ever seen. That was growing harder by the moment. He must have seen where I was looking, because he winked at me before turning and speaking to Alira.

“Are you going to take care of this first? You usually do.”

For the second time in as many minutes my heart leapt into my chest at his words. This time I made no attempt to stop what was about to happen.

“Oh, yes, of course! How frightfully silly of me.”

Adrenaline surged through me as Alira sank to her knees in front of the half-elf, one hand reaching out for his member. Her long fingers wrapped around the impressive girth and she began to stroke him, sliding her hand up and down. The vision lit a fire inside me and I could tell from the reaction between Artur's legs that I wasn't the only one. I started to strip off my clothes as well.

“You usually use your mouth,” said Ryfon.

“I know. Obviously. I'm simply entertaining myself before moving on to the main event. Be quiet.”

The perfect replica of Alira's haughty tones combined with an action none of us would ever imagine her carrying out was exhilarating, and a shiver ran through me at her words. I felt another a few moments later when she wrapped her lips around the cock in front of her, sinking them almost to the base. Apparently, otherworldly Elven powers extended to suppression of a gag reflex. Or mimics didn't have one. Ryfon placed a hand on the creature's head and smiled at me and Artur, before returning his attention to the replica of the woman he desired.

Artur was fully hard now, and I knew from his body language that he wanted to join in. In a strange reversal of our earlier positions I threw out a hand in front of him. It was laughable, since he could flick me aside with a finger, but he stopped anyway.

I wanted to tell him that I should be enough. I wanted to tell him to ignore Alira, leave her and Ryfon to each other, focus on me. But I couldn't bring myself to say it. And… perhaps part of me was enjoying the show.

“Wait. Let them finish,” I said.

He grunted unintelligibly in reply. My hand fell down to his cock and I let it rest there while we watched Alira's head bob back and forth, occasionally giving him a squeeze or a quick stroke. I doubted he needed my attention to keep him hard, but it made me feel better to do something. My other hand found its way between my own legs.

Ryfon's fingers started to curl in Alira's hair, and I knew from his expression that he was growing closer. Eyes flickered behind closed eyelids as the priestess' lips continued moving up and down his shaft. His legs started to shake, the action accompanied by a series of guttural noises as he took control and began thrusting into my best friend's mouth. The expression on his face was rapturous, and my jealousy burned.

Alira, no, the mimic, I had to remember that; the mimic swallowed heavily and let Ryfon's softening cock fall from her mouth. Artur brushed my hand aside and walked forwards, like he had forgotten I was there. I decided to overturn my earlier thought. I was going to think of her as Alira. And I was going to enjoy watching her act in the most degrading way she could.

Warriors weren't eloquent, as a rule, and Artur was no different. Still, the two simple words he managed got his point across well enough.

“My turn.”

“Of course, my darling. It would hardly be fair to spread my blessings unevenly!”

With that incongruous declaration, the priestess went to work once again. I sidled over to where Ryfon was sat recovering and plopped myself down next to him.

“Enjoy yourself?” I asked.

He grinned widely in response. “Better than I ever hoped.”

We both turned to watch the action unfolding in front of us, Alira still on her knees and sucking loudly. I stole glances at Ryfon from the corner of my eye, wondering if how long it would take him to recover and whether I could convince him to lie with me when he did.

“Nice view,” I ventured, not really sure if I was talking about him or Alira.

“Yeah.”

“Do you mind if I…” I asked, spreading my legs and letting my hand fall between them. It was an embarrassing gesture, and I promise I'm not usually this bad, but the guys started it. They could hardly judge.

“Don't hold back on my account,” said Ryfon.

I didn't. Shuffling back and forth a few times was enough to get comfortable; I lay back and put my fingers to work. I was already more than wet, impossibly turned on by the situation, and each small circle against my nub brought overwhelming sensations. To prolong the situation I changed tactic, fingers stroking lightly up and down my folds and sending waves of pleasure up my spine. A heat rose in my cheeks when I realised Ryfon was watching me.

“I never noticed before, but you're kind of cute, you know?”

Cute!? Of course. Cute. Not sexy like some people. I pointedly turned my nose up at him and focused my attention back on Alira and Artur.

Right as my warrior started to cum in my best friend's mouth. For the second time that day I watched as the immaculate priestess swallowed a load, gulping loudly around the cock in her mouth. At least the noises Artur made were the same ones he made with me. That was something.

Artur pulled himself back out of Alira's mouth, and the mimic caught me off guard by staring straight at me. My body froze under that inhuman gaze, both of us trying to feel out what would happen next. I imagined I could see the thoughts in its mind, trying to decide whether continuing the encounter with a woman was normal behaviour for the body it had copied. And my own mind whirred, trying to figure out what I wanted. I wasn't really into girls, not in that way. But she was so pretty, and both the men had enjoyed her, and I was curious…

“Me next,” I said.

She crawled over to me, placed her hands on my legs and started to plant kisses on the inside of my thighs, working upwards. I leaned forwards, running my hands over her back. Her skin was so smooth, almost frictionless, my hands sliding over her shoulders and then down underneath her arms. They found her breasts as her tongue found me, and I squeezed them reflexively.

Alira was skilled, and I don't know why that surprised me. She was flawless in every other way, why not this. I fought the urge to lie back and let pleasure overwhelm me, focusing instead on exploring her body. This would likely be my only chance, so I figured I may as well make the most of it.

I didn't count on Ryfon having other ideas.

His huge cock flopped down in front of my face. Not insistent, but there; not forced on me but offered in case I wanted it. My mouth was already open, gasping with the attention of the woman between my legs. I could feel myself growing closer. And he had called me cute. I leaned forwards and took as much of him as I could. The action was enough to send me over the edge.

My lips wrapped around his cock, my legs squeezed Alira's head, my hands reached awkwardly down and grabbed whatever parts of her they could; my entire body tensed. I shuddered as I came, waves of pleasure starting below and flowing out into my body. It lasted a lifetime, and not long enough, and I bucked and moaned and lost track of myself in the sense of it. As it ebbed away I dropped to the floor, content to lie still and recover.

When I finally pulled myself back up Alira was on all fours, Artur thrusting into her from behind while she went down on Ryfon once again. Words appeared in my mind, crept out past my lips.

“I never expected to have this much fun with a mimic!”

Poof.

Later, I would claim that my words had been a mistake. That they had slipped out in a moment of forgetfulness, my mind overwhelmed by desire and post-orgasmic bliss. My quick reaction to the disappearance of the mimic, crawling onto all fours and slotting myself between the men, that was instinct. The fact that I orientated myself with my kind-of-boyfriend in front of my mouth and the well endowed half-elf behind me, that was coincidence. When I offered to let them do anything they wanted in exchange for my blunder, that was regret, a desire to make up for my mistake, and not at all something I had wanted or planned all along.

Yeah, I know, I'm a terrible person.

But in my defence, the next two hours were really, really worth it.