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The moment she heard the pained groan rumbling from the back of his throat, she knew something was wrong.

She had still been awake, listening to the pitter-patter of rain striking the top of their tent. Though a heavy sleeper, she had always had some difficulty falling asleep, especially when too much plagued her mind.

Spooning against him, her back to his chest, Ellana carefully turned herself around to face Blackwall. Sweat trailed from his forehead into his beard, eyelids looked painfully shut tight as if trying his hardest to block out whatever horror he was witnessing in his nightmare.

He didn't need this. It had been a rough enough day clearing out that dwarven port packed to the brim with red templars. Was it too much to ask for a good night's rest as reward?

Her left hand found its way onto his brow, running her thumb over one of the creases while her right lost itself in his beard, hoping the gentle touches would be enough to soothe him, as they had many times before while in the throes of a nightmare.

To her relief, this seemed to have the same effect, the low groan again building dying in his throat, the rigidness of his body abating little by little.

Ever the light sleeper, it did not take long for his eyelids to crack open, awareness filling his steel blue eyes as they fell on her.

"Hope I didn't wake you," he said, voice still gruff with sleep.

She shook her head. "Already awake."

He covered her hand still stroking his beard with his own. "Trouble going to sleep again?"

She nodded, but that was all she would give him. She knew what he was doing. She was not about to let him shift the focus of the conversation to her when it should be about him.

Ellana wiped away the bead of sweat on his forehead with her thumb. "You looked like you were having a really bad dream."

His face shifted into a look she had seen before, when he was closing himself off, his body tensing up again. "I'm fine."

The hand on his brow made its way to his chest, her marked palm resting over his heart as Ellana tried to determine a way to encourage him to talk. But he beat her to it, likely noticing the growing, troubled frown she was unable to conceal from her face. He took the hand already in his and kissed her knuckles.

"It's enough you're here, Ana. You don't need to concern yourself over me."

But why, she wanted to ask. It pained her just as much to see him suffering as she knew it did for him to see her. Why did he think himself undeserving of comfort, reassurance after a nightmare? He was always so willing to provide it to her; all she wanted was to do the same.

It vexed her. For however many months they had known each other, she still knew so little about him. Only that he was from Markham, participated in the Grand Tourney of the Free Marches, and that he had been a soldier. But not for whom. Nothing of his exploits as a Warden. Not even his given name. She knew he was a private man and she didn't want to prod him (or make him feel like she was), but he obviously trusted her with his heart. Why couldn't he trust her with more?

But how she was too quick to remind herself; he wasn't the only one who was holding things back. She also had things she refused to say about her past, froze him out whenever she had certain nightmares.

It was certainly not a matter of trust, telling him about what happened to Bri. But Ellana could never bring herself to do it, that subject and the circumstances that led to it still too raw a wound to discuss, even after eight years.

Perhaps it was just a matter of time and patience. And (she also reminded herself) knowing more about each other's' pasts didn't change the here and now, didn't diminish how much she loved him.

And, Creators, did she love him. She was in deep, she knew that now. A few nights ago, after another Bri-related nightmare, she had almost pleaded to him, made him swear not to leave her. But Ellana had caught herself, knowing how unrealistic and unfair it was for him to give such a promise, with his Calling who knew how many years away, no matter how much it pained her to think about. But how she would treasure the time she had with him until that day.

She kissed him gently on the slightly-misshaped ridge of his nose (another thing she hoped to get the answer to someday).

"Whatever you need of me, vhenan," she said, a way to let him know she was there for him, whether he wanted to talk or not.

Blackwall pulled her closer to him, eyes closing, though she doubted it had much to do with sleep. "My lady."

She kissed him again, this time brushing her lips against his in affirmation of her words. His kiss was just as light, lacking the heat of some of his previous ones, though no less genuine.

They settled themselves against each other again, Ellana on her back this time, Blackwall remaining on his side. His head rested against her shoulder, his arm a solid weight over her waist. Her left hand ended up in the wild tangles towards the back of his head. But despite her gentle combing motions, she could feel the remaining tension in his body.

Without thinking, she began humming the first two verses of a lullaby, one of many songs her mother had sung to her and her sister whenever they had trouble falling asleep.

"That sounds nice," Blackwall muttered against the slope of her shoulder. "Don't think I've heard that one before."

"It's Dalish. 'Mir Da'len Somniar'."

He emitted a murmur of recognition. "You told me about that one. The night you came back from the Emerald Graves."

She remembered that night well, when he had happened upon her in her chambers, singing an Elven song. A tribute of sorts for an elderly woman they had encountered on the journey back to Skyhold, who had been attacked by bandits and later died from her wounds. The woman's death had stayed with Ellana, even upon their return to Skyhold. And ever since childhood, she had found singing to be a joy in the good moments and a comfort in the bad (partly due to her mother's own passion for it). Ellana had thought about singing the song before they burned the woman's body on the crudely-made funeral pyre, but not since her sister had been alive had she been comfortable singing in front of others.

Though she had been expecting Blackwall some point that night, she hadn't heard him come up the stairs until he was right at the landing, where he could clearly hear her. She had tried pretending it hadn't happened, but that didn't work for long. She remembered how earnest he was when he told her that her voice was beautiful. That he wanted to hear her finish the song. She had been hesitant at first, but when she saw how much he genuinely desired it (and the man never asked her for much of anything), she sang the whole song for him, such contentment on his face by its finish she had never seen before. Since that night, she had grown more comfortable singing around Blackwall. But only him. She was not about to fill in for Maryden at Herald's Rest any time soon.

"Ana?"

She ceased running her fingers through his hair. "Hmm?"

"I..." His voice faltered, cracking as it did the night he came to her chambers and pleaded with her to end things between them before they went even further, lacking all willpower to do it. When he spoke again, there was a hint of tentativeness behind it that hurt her to hear, as if he felt he didn't deserve what he was about to request, but still wanted to. "I should like to hear it. That song."

She cupped his jaw with her free hand, tilting his head up a bit for her to lean down and press an assenting kiss to his forehead, happy she was able to help him in some way. He nestled his head back against her shoulder, waiting for her to begin.

One of these days, she would find out why this conflict within himself existed. One of these days, in turn, she would tell him about what happened to her sister. But for now, she sang "Mir Da'len Somniar" for him (making sure her voice was soft enough it would not carry to their other companions in their tents, but loud enough for Blackwall to hear over the rain). Then she sang it again, this time resuming raking her thin fingers through his hair and scratching at his scalp. Then for a third time. Until she saw his eyelids flutter close and the worry lines of his face slacken and his snores filled the tent once more, having slipped into what Ellana could only hope was a more peaceful sleep.

A/N: The song Ellana sang in memory of the elderly woman is the same one Leliana sung in Origins after the Nature of the Beast quest, "In Uthenera." The Dalish lullaby "Mir Da'len Somniar" is in the World of Thedas, Vol. 2.