Little Shining Armor shot up straight, panting for breath, his heart beating like a drum. He clutched his blanket to his small chest, eyes staring straight ahead. At first he couldn’t see anything; it was dark, the middle of the night.
He was terrified. He’d been running in a dark, cold place. Something was chasing him. He didn’t know what it looked like; it was too dark to see. All he knew was that it was chasing him and he needed to get away. He didn’t want to find out what would happen if it caught him. He was breathing heavily, his legs and chest aching for relief, but the thing kept chasing him. He could feel it getting closer, could feel its hot breath on his hocks. He tripped over himself and screamed, falling to the hard ground. His heart stopped, his nerves tensed. For a moment all he knew was sheer terror.
Then he woke up.
He hugged the covers close to his chest, trying to draw comfort from the sheets, as well as keeping out the cold of the cloudless midwinter night. His eyes darted around his room, searching for any place the monster could hide. It could be hiding in the closet, or in the toy box, or behind the curtains covering keeping out the bright moonlight. Any moment it would open the door and attack him, or jump out of the box and attack him, or reveal itself from behind the curtains and attack him.
Shining didn’t know how much time he spent looking around the room, nearly scared out of his wits, but slowly realization cast its light in his mind: the monster in his dream had been chasing him. Now he was stationary, an easy target. Why wasn’t the monster attacking him? Maybe… because there was no monster hiding in his room. He heard no rapid breathing except his own. He was safe.
Even though Shining Armor could feel his heart slow down, he didn’t let go of the sheets. He did not feel safe; fear was still swirling in his mind. He didn’t want to go back to sleep; surely he’d have the same nightmare and he’d experience the same terror as before. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want that at all. He wanted to feel safe.
He wanted his father. He wanted his comforting embrace protecting him from the nightmare. He wanted his warmth.
Taking in a deep breath and focusing, Shining lit his horn and craned his head over the side of the bed. He shone the light under it, checking for any monsters. Seeing none, he got back up. Then, covering himself in his blanket, Shining climbed out of his bed. A chill ran up his legs as his hooves made contact with the cold wooden floor; he drew his blanket closer around him. With small, cautious steps, he made his way to the door, keeping his horn alight. He opened the door with his magic and peeked out into the hallway. It was even darker than his room. His parents’ room was down the hall to his left. He turned and tip-toed in that direction, through the dark and cold hallway.
Once there, he stopped and felt his heart beat faster. A part of him didn’t want to bother his parents while they were sleeping. But his fear of the nightmare outweighed his fear of his parents. Steeling himself, he opened the door with his magic and peeked into the room.
Night Light couldn’t sleep. Four months into Twilight Velvet’s pregnancy and he was only worried about her now. To him, it looked like she was more fatigued than she had been while bearing Shining Armor. Heavy bags hung under her eyes, and she moved at a more sluggish pace. She struggled to get out of bed in the morning. She’d been tired when carrying their first foal, but not nearly as bad as this. She was also more irritable; she didn’t want Night to touch her when they went to bed, which was why they were sleeping with their backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed, Night Light on the right and Velvet on the left. They had an appointment with the doctor in the morning, so hopefully they could find out what was wrong.
Night had been tired when he’d gone to bed, and despite his wife’s irritability, had fallen asleep in less than an hour. Then he’d woken up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back to sleep, his mind restless and full of worry. Anything could happen to Velvet.
He tugged the covers closer to himself, trying to stave off the winter chill, and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the light of the bright moon. Doubts crept up on him. Was he a good husband? He told himself he was. He did his best to be there for Velvet, suffering with her during her mood swings and the morning sickness. But was it enough? Did his wife think he was a good husband?
Am I a good father?
That thought stuck in his mind like a dart, one that he tried to remove. He played with Shining Armor, he told himself. He went on walks with him, read bedtime stories to him. But was he good enough?
Night Light’s ears pricked up when he heard the squeak of the door, snapping him out of his thoughts. The squeak was followed by the clip-clop of tiny hooves.
Shining.
He closed his eyes tighter; he didn’t want Shining Armor to see that his dad was still awake.
The sound of hooves stopped in front of him. There was complete silence save for Shining’s breathing. He was probably steeling himself for waking up his “sleeping” father.
“Dad?” the colt whispered.
Night Light opened his eyes slowly and looked at his son. The colt’s eyes were shining bright in the moonlight, filled with trepidation. “Shining?” Night whispered in as gentle a tone as he could. “What’s wrong?”
Shining Armor stared up at him. “I had a bad dream,” he said, looking down at his hooves. “Can I sleep with you?”
Night kept his eyes on Shining, mulling over his thoughts. He was a bit irritated that his son would come and bother him while he was trying to deal with his own issues, especially with something as silly as a nightmare. But the colt was terrified; his eyes were wide, his lips trembling. Night felt anger rising in his chest; anger towards whatever nightmare had frightened his child so. In that moment, he would put everything aside to make sure his son felt safe.
Night felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards. “Sure,” he whispered as he lifted the covers to let Shining up.
Shining Armor smiled bright and clambered up. He turned around, settled down on his side in front of his father, with his back towards him, and closed his eyes. Night Light felt the warmth of his son’s body against his chest. He draped his foreleg over him and pulled him close. He prayed silently that no bad dreams would come to his son while he slept.
At least he could do this for his son.
