Regalia of glossy gold is set aside, before two are abed.
He hopes for her a restful sleep as he knows her day is long. She offers him the same hope.
The two hold each other gently, exchange playful nudge and nuzzle; then soft human lips press against those of e'en softer white fur.
Furred hooves draw him close against her barrel; tanned arm is lain o'er her side.
Noses rub. A nuzzle. Soft kisses. Chuckle. Nicker-laugh.
Then... "Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll be there when the sun rises..."
"Goodnight, beloved," sings she in Equestriani tongue, "Sisir Moon watch o'er thee..."
Despite his wishes, sleep for her tonight is not kind.
As moon reaches its zenith, gripped is She by old, old demons, and past regrets; mournfully she whimpers and cries in the night, tossing and turning. Magic-empty pink mane awash with fear-sweat.
But... ever-always he is there; pale magenta eyes snap open and frantic waking breath calms as he brushes five-fingered hand o'er white coat and mark of blazing sun.
"Shh, shh... it's alright, sweetie; it's okay, I'm here..."
Magenta eyes mist o'er with mournful tears, e'en as they be softly kissed away; then she finally can take no more and draws him close to her as she weeps, weeps, weeps...
He weathers her storm - will always weather it for his beloved mare - e'en as his heart breaks for want to help her more, yet unable is he to fight ghosts. Only time can make them fade.
All he can do is draw her e'er closer. Soft kisses. Sweet nothings. It's all he can do. All anyone can do.
And she is grateful, e'en as she whispers sorrow at his waking for her--a thing he brushes aside.
"No," states he, with finality. "Wake me when you need me. I will always be here for you."
Softened thanks. She will, and he will. How could he not!
They are each other.