//------------------------------//
// House of Mirrors 
// Story: House Of Lies 
// by TCC56 
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The Oak And Ivy was an important restaurant for Ivory and Arche - it had been where they had their first date following the party, after all. While pub fare might not be haute cuisine, it was reasonably priced, tasty and there were good memories. 

Memories that I was currently replacing with how every pony in the pub was staring at us. (Well, let's be honest, at me.) At least this time it was only staring - the chitin along my jaw wasn't going to heal for days and I wasn't eager to crack more of it. 

That's why I was letting Ivory do the talking. I was there, but her taking the lead was bound to get a friendlier result. 

The first sign that I was wrong was that despite there being half a dozen tables open, we were waiting to be seated. The second was that the staff was having a hushed but obviously intense conversation as they kept looking at us. 

It took until two other couples were seated before us for Ivory to finally lose her temper. I tried not to listen in, but the waves of anger she was radiating made it easy to guess just what she was hissing to the staff. And shortly after, we had a table. 

In the side room. 

With a planter blocking us from the main dining room. 

I sighed heavily, countering Ivory's still bubbling anger. 

"Apparently," she outlined with frustration, "Their disagreement was if we should be put out of sight to not disturb anypony else or in the middle of the room so you couldn't try anything funny. And they implied that I was here unwillingly and asked if I needed help."

I wanted to grumble and grouse - but they also weren't wrong. Last time I was in town that wasn't just reasonable, it was the norm. "We've got a table now. That's what's important." 

"No it isn't!" Ivory's bubble of anger popped loudly. The planter blocked the eyes that turned our way with her shout, but I could still feel them. She sat back down, voice quieting. "Why are you so accepting about this, Cy? Arche never was."

"I'm not Arche," I replied purely on automatic. "And.. it's because they're right. Four months ago, I was the enemy. I was the boogeymare that parents warned their foals about and said would drag them away if they weren't good. And don't say it isn't true, Ive. It hasn't even been a day since you were freaking out on the couch in front of me."

Ivory, bless her, shook her head. "Yes, but I'm trying to see past that." The phrasing implied she hadn't.

"And they don't have any reason to." I paused. "I'm not even sure why you're doing it, either."

That quieted her down. Or at least made Ivory glower instead of complain out loud. ...At least until she loudly facehoofed. "Celestia, I can't believe I'm so dense." She grabbed the menu off the table as the topic wildly veered away. "Can you even eat any of this? It's all pony food not, uh.... schadenfreude or malaise. Did I invite you out to a dinner you can't eat?" Ivory smacked herself in the face with the menu. "Stupid stupid stupid--" 

I grabbed the menu away from her before she could abuse it further. "Ivory, stop and think. If I couldn't eat pony food would I really have been able to hide it while living with you for three years? And we don't eat emotions anymore, either. The pot pie's is just fine."

A moment passed - and she managed a smirk. "That was kind of silly of me, wasn't it?"

We both laughed together. Thankfully. I know I needed it, and I'm pretty sure she did too. 

The minutes passed quietly as we looked over the menu with the enthusiasm of somepony who was sure that this time they would try something new and different before ordering the same meal they had ordered the last twelve times they had been here. The waiter who took said standard order was at least polite enough to not openly question my situation - he gave me a few suspicion-heavy looks, but for the most part left me be. 

In the wake of our order, Ivory tried to resume our conversation. 

"So," she started with the grace of an overloaded cart, "You keep saying you aren't Arche, but I don't think you've actually told me anything about who you are." 

I blinked. Now that I thought about it, she was right. "Well, I'm a changeling--" 

Ivory cut me off like a guillotine. "I said who you are, not what you are." She tapped a hoof to her pale chest. "I'm not just a pony. You're not just a changeling."

And as soon as she said that, it made sense. The reality wasn't quite so simple to answer, of course. "I... don't really know who I am, I suppose. Before, none of us really had much to ourselves - we had to be the role we were playing, and having our own self got in the way of that. We were encouraged to repress any 'us'. And I spent most of the last few months learning how to not steal love anymore so there hasn't been a lot of... me time."

She nodded slowly - but didn't speak. I took it as encouragement to keep going. 

"And that's why I'm here and why I'm doing this." I sucked in a breath, bracing myself for the admission. "If I don't know who I am and I have to decide who to become? I want to be like who Arche was. It was a good life. Arche was a good pony. If I have to decide on who I'm going to be, that's my choice."

Ivory let that settle for a moment before she responded. "So you say you aren't Arche, and then you say you want to be Arche. That seems like a problem with an easy solution."

"Is it?" Judging by the slight wince on her face, that came out more accusatory than I'd intended. "You can't just be Celestia."

She shook her head. "Yeah, but I didn't spend the last few years pretending to be her. And I've got a me already. You just said that you don't." Ive sighed quietly. "What's stopping you?"

It was a good question. A sensible question. One I had asked myself more than a few times - I just hoped I could explain it to her. "Think of it like a sheet of paper. You fold it into an origami bird and keep it like that for a while - long enough for the creases at the folds to settle deep into the pulp. Then you unfold it because you need to write down a shopping list and don't have anything else at hoof. Once you're done, you can fold it back into a bird. But it's never quite the same again, is it? Even if you follow the creases, you're not going to fold it exactly the same way. There's always going to be differences. So I can't be Arche again, because who I am underneath isn't the same. Maybe I can get close, but my folds are a little bit off."

She thought about it. That was a good sign - she understood what I was trying to say. One thing I'd discovered in the last four months was that I wasn't nearly as good with words as an infiltrator should be, and clear communication was hard. "So you could be Arche," she tentatively started, "But not the same Arche."

A little thing tickled in the back of my head that I was walking into a trap. But I answered anyway. "A different Arche, yes."

"Like an Arche that had changed after a few months and some major life changes." Ivory said it like it was a question - but I knew it was a scolding. "That does sound tragic. I couldn't imagine any pony who changed over time."

With a deep sigh, I rubbed a hoof against my temple. "It isn't that simple, Ive. I'm not Arche. I can't just... be him."

"You keep saying that," she noted with an aggressive lean foward, "But you aren't actually giving me a reason why." Reaching to her bag, Ivory pulled out an old photo of us: a silly one taken at a summer carnival, both full of joy, faire food, and maybe a little heat stroke. "Look at him. You know what he likes. What he feels. What he dreams about. Is that so different from what you have?"

I hesitated. 

She capitalized. "Let's try an exercise." That's Ivory for you - always pushing to find a solution, logical or not. "I'll name something about Arche, and you tell me if you feel the same way."

I nodded dumbly. It felt like a stupid idea, but couldn't think of any real reason not to humor her.

Ivory waited a few moments more to be sure I wasn't going to object, then launched are first salvo of questions. "Arche likes dipping his hayfries in ranch."

"Ranch is good." I didn't even think about that defense - it leapt out automatically. Just like it always has, since Ivory thinks ranch tastes like dragon feet. 

Her smug smile spoke volumes. "Arche likes it cool and keeps the heat a little too low during the winter, because it's a good excuse to snuggle under a blanket." Ivory paused. "Was that just to eat me?" she asked, voice spiking with concern.

I felt my cheeks flush. "Well, not entirely. I really do prefer it a bit cooler than you do, and I enjoyed being under a blanket with you. The love was a bonus."

Ivory frowned a little - she pushed it back down, but my previous pathovore ways obviously still didn't sit right with her. Still, she continued her questions. "Arche is always the one to clean the bathroom. He's very particular about scrubbing the tub, and I never give it enough attention for him."

"Well you don't," I indignantly shot back. "That's the prime place for mold to grow and it needs extra work to keep clean."

Her smile widened - and our food arrived. She got the linguini with broccoli; he got the pot pie. It's the same order every time we've been here. Comfort food. As we eat, Ivory continued her questions.

Arche enjoys listening to classical music while he's working, but radio pop while cooking.
Arche has strong opinions about the architectural works of Le Cauchoix and will talk for hours on them.
Arche dislikes professional sports but loves foals and teens playing the same games because they're doing it for joy instead of money.
Arche wants to learn to play the flute, but has never gotten around to trying.
Arche keeps a jar of pistachios in his desk drawer for quick snacks.
Arche signs his name lazily - he would start with the first letter distinct and tall, with the rest quickly fading off to an unreadable squiggle.
Arche enjoys drinking IPAs but stops after three. You could always tell when he had too much, because Arche would start to mix up left and right.
Arche's favorite cookie is gingersnap, but he also likes peanut butter blossoms when they're warm and fresh out of the oven.
Arche plays golf because everypony else at the office does (despite being terrible at it), but his favorite thing to play is darts.

Every single one, I had to confirm. The only questions Ivory asked I said no to were ones about Arche's fictional family - I didn't have a sister in Rainbow Falls or an aunt named Cutie Pie. All the rest, Arche's preferences and quirks were my own. 

That bothered me deeply. I was a changeling, and playing a role meant that you weren't supposed to be in there. Inserting aspects of yourself into the subject was a weakness and ripe to be exploited. It was shameful. Then again, there was no Arche to replace - I'd created him from whole cloth. And we weren't supposed to hold identities like that for long: they were short term covers, only painted in broad strokes. I had stayed as Arche for four years. Perhaps it was only natural that he and I grew to be very much the same.

Sensible as that was, it still annoyed me. Because each time I answered yes to a question, Ivory got a little more smug. 

Finally - and as we finished eating - she moved in for the kill. "Well," she said with the smarmy confidence of a mare who knew she had won, "I don't know about you but you sure sound like the Arche Triumph I've always known. I can't see any differences."

I pushed my empty plate to the side. "I do. Arche loved you."

Ivory - poor Ivory - didn't get it instantly. But when she did a second later, she flinched and I knew I'd hit the heart. "You don't love me?" Her voice was quiet. Foal-like. Afraid. 

All I could do was nod, not meeting her eyes. "I can't, Ive. I'm a changeling. We're not capable of it."

Several more seconds passed. Then she spoke her mind. "Horse apples."

"It's true. We're--" 

Ivory cut me off again. "An idiot sometimes, yes. If you can't love, why did you come here? You could have told me what you were and walked away - but you didn't." Before I could answer, she held up her hoof. "You asked me for a chance. I came here to try giving you one. Instead of accepting that, you keep trying to talk me out of it. That doesn't make much sense, and I want an explanation before we go any further."

She lowered her hoof, signaling she was done. 

Trying to organize my thoughts was difficult. Ivory had a lot of good points, but it all just seemed hollow to me. Getting that into words took effort. "I'm a lot like the pony you fell in love with, but that's the problem. Everything we had was based on the lie that I was Arche. Maybe there's not a lot of difference between who he was and who I am, but doesn't that just make it worse?" I shifted forward slightly in my seat, leaning towards her. "All the time you spent loving Arche, it was me. Just hiding there and taking. If we do try again, I don't want to pretend it never happened and go back into the same lie. Part of the changelings changing is becoming better than that. And you deserve better than that, Ive. I don't want to repeat my mistakes and hurt you again."

Quiet - and room enough for the waiter to silently put the bill on the table. (We weren't even asked if we wanted dessert.) Ivory had her own thoughts to organize and I gave her the room for it. And when she finally found the right ones, she smiled. 

"I loved Arche Triumph for three years, but he didn't love me back. Now you're offering me everything he was with somepony behind it who can love me. I would be stupid not to take a chance on that."