February 12
Mornings are always better when you wake up with a friend.
We had a bit more room than we'd had on the couch; his bed was even a little bit bigger than the ones that Peggy and I had in our dorm room. Not that we needed all that room—I had my head on his chest and my foreleg stretched across his belly.
Aric reached his arm up and ran it through my mane. His other arm was kind of trapped under my body. It can't have been that comfortable for him, so after he'd petted me for a bit, I shifted off to the side and let him get his arm back, even though I hated to give up my pillow.
He rolled over and put his hand on my back and traced down my spine. I angled my tail off to the side and arched my back, but he stopped when he touched my dock. He held his hand there for a moment like he wasn't sure where to go next, and then trailed it across my hip, before picking up his hand and starting again.
I shifted around and was about to climb on top of him when I remembered that I wanted to let him take things at his own pace, as frustrating as that was going to be. So I just relaxed and let him pet me.
If it had been a weekend, we might have had time to go farther (if he wanted to), but it was time that I got up for the day. Later, really. So I nuzzled his cheek and then kissed it and he got kind of surprised by that and then kissed me in the nose (which felt really weird, but not in a bad way).
I got out of bed first, and went and used his bathroom while he was putting on pants. Then I stood on my hind hooves and gave him a hug, and told him that I had to go to class. He was kind of sad that I had to go, and so was I.
Nevertheless, I was practically flying as I trotted through our neighborhood and back to campus.
I took a pretty direct route; I didn't want to be late to class.
I didn't really pay much attention in my morning classes: I was just thinking about Aric and imagining how things might go this weekend—it was Valentine's Day weekend, and from what Peggy had said, it was a time when humans (to use her words) hooked up. And hopefully that was what would happen with us.
When I got back to the dorm room from lunch, there was a new message on my telephone from Aric. I swished my tail excitedly while the telephone retrieved the message, then my ears drooped when I heard his voice saying that he was going to be at the theater really late so that he could finish up everything with the lights and have the whole weekend off.
It would have been nice to have spent another night with him, but I could wait. I was kinda in a bit of a funk, though. Luckily, Meghan and Lisa and Becky cheered me up in Equestrian class.
At dinner, Keith stopped by my table and asked if I wanted to stop over in his room tonight to get ready for tomorrow.
I wasn't sure how I needed to get ready, and he told me that people wore costumes to SCA events (they called it garb instead of costumes, though). Sort of like LARPing.
I said that I didn't really have anything to wear as a costume, and I doubted that they had anything fit for a pegasus. Keith said that was true, but Donald's sister Kathleen was visiting for the event, and she'd brought along her sewing supplies and could probably whip me up something appropriate to wear. He said that she'd said she didn't want to miss a chance to sew something for a pegasus.
That was the kind of offer I couldn't really refuse. It's mean to turn down an offer like that, and besides, I'd get a chance to maybe find out some more details about what this event was.
So I got directions to his room, and told him I'd be over a bit later. I still had to say goodbye to Peggy before she left for the weekend.
On the way out of the dining hall, I checked my mail, and there were two letters: one from Aquamarine, and one from my sister.
I put the letters on my desk to read later (I really should have read them right away), and then sat with Peggy on her bed until her telephone chirped and she looked down and said that her boyfriend was there.
I nuzzled her cheek and told her to have a good weekend, and she ran her hand through my mane and told me to have a good weekend as well, and to remember if I needed anything to call her, and she would come, no matter what.
Then she skipped out of the room with her duffel bag. I wasn't sure why she needed so much stuff for a weekend with her boyfriend.
When she was gone, I closed up our room and went over to Keith's. There was already a crowd in his room, and half of them were wearing costumes. Donald's sister Kathleen was in a commanding position in the center of the room, with a box of sewing supplies next to her. She was fixing the sleeve on Donald's shirt, but she stopped as soon as she saw me. She pressed the needle into his hand and told him that since he was studying to be a doctor, he ought to be able to finish mending the tear.
She was super-friendly. She wrapped me in a big hug, then introduced me to her husband, John Jacob. He was as friendly as she was, although he stopped short of a hug.
Kathleen said that what would look really awesome would be if I had a set of barding. I told her my cousin did because he's in the Guard, and she got a kind of wistful look in her eyes, but he's in Equestria and I'm here, so there wasn't much chance of getting it for tomorrow.
She said that I'd look great in a simple caparison, and that it wouldn't be that much trouble to make. A couple of years back, she'd made a coat of arms for all her friends—Keith showed me his, which was a little flag that hung from his belt—and she had some extras all sewn up.
It wasn't quite as simple as she made it sound; I was in the room for hours as she measured and cut and test-fit and then tried again. But it was worth it in the end. The main part was an off-white fabric that looked really nice against my coat, and she used leftover strips of that fabric to wrap my legs from the pastern to hock.
The herald—which is called a device—draped over my shoulders. It was a very stylized brown squirrel on its hind legs; in one paw it had a sword, and in the other a cookie.
Underneath that was the motto: Sanguis herbam alit. I asked her what it was, and she told me it was in Latin.
I knew that—everything important seems to be written in Latin. I don't think scientists want normal people to understand their stuff.
Unicorns do that too: they all use a different alphabet than the other tribes. That made them feel superior until ponies invented typewriters and telegraphs, and then they all had to learn to write like everypony else.
So I asked her what it said, and she said that the motto read 'Blood makes the grass grow,' and when she saw the look on my face, she laughed and said that it was a joke, that it was the motto of the heavy weapons fighters on campus.
So then she had to explain that. It turns out that a bunch of my friends role play with historical weapons, although they're modified so that they can't hurt each other. Sara uses a little sword called a foil (she's a little person), and Seth and Kennith and Keith and Aric fight with big weapons. She said that they would be at the event this weekend fighting a small battle.
I was a little concerned for their safety, but she assured me that it was all very safe.
She helped me out of my caparison—she hadn't had time to put on proper fasteners, so some of it was held together with safety pins—and I thought about going back to my room for the night, but then decided that I might as well stay with them. There were a lot of people in the room, and I knew I'd be lonely in my own room, so when I got tired I curled up on a pile of laundry that was in the corner and dozed off.