Chapter Title Reference: "Therefore, be ye lamps unto yourselves, be a refuge to yourselves. Hold fast to Truth as a lamp; hold fast to the truth as a refuge. Look not for a refuge in anyone beside yourselves. And those, who shall be a lamp unto themselves, shall betake themselves to no external refuge, but holding fast to the Truth as their lamp, and holding fast to the Truth as their refuge, they shall reach the topmost height." --Buddha

Notes--Some of the following dialogue has been taken from or modeled off of lines in DAO. I have tried to keep this to a minimum.

I may eventually expand this chapter a bit (which would probably result in some redistribution between this chapter and chapter 2--which is a bit short right now)...or I may not. We'll have to see where the wind takes me.

"Well..." Elan said slowly, trying to find words, "I thought we might linger here a day or two."

"Just to make a point?" Alistair asked a bit disapprovingly. "Don't get me wrong, I love flouting the Chantry's attempts to control me, but I doubt the Blight is going to improve with age."

"Well...not just to make a point," Elan reassured him. "I thought we might peruse the Chanter's Board, see if there's any money to be made...We need—"

"Ah, the Chantry Board," Morrigan sneered. "Yes, let us run errands for the betterment of mankind as well as a few coppers."

"Let's." Elan retorted, leaning back on the bench and crossing her arms over her chest, her grey eyes suddenly steely. "After all, weren't you the one pointing out how handy coin would be in procuring goods and information? Do you think we will need more or less of those in the days to come? Would you refuse to do what is necessary simply because it might look as though you took pity on someone else?"

"Pity is a weakness, and one we can ill-afford," Morrigan reminded her coolly. "You would do well to remember that, Warden." She eyed Alistair pointedly. "Both of you. You are right, however, that appearances matter far less than results...even if the appearance of weakness can prove dangerous. If the mundane kindnesses of the Chanter's Board are a means to achieving an end—that of the Blight—I will suffer them in silence."

"I don't object to offering these people what little aid we have to give," Alistair agreed, "especially since you make a good point about the money. As long as we're back on the road to Redcliffe soon. We wouldn't want to keep the archdemon waiting or anything."

Much to Elan's relief, the barmaid returned with a heavily-laden tray and passed around mugs of ale, plates of bread and cheese and slices of cold, cured meats. She had even remembered a large, meaty bone, which Elan slid under the table for Woofus.

There was a long pause as they all proceeded to eat with gusto.

But, eventually, Elan knew she had to stop delaying the inevitable.

"Look, Alistair, I know you're anxious to get to Redcliffe," she began uncomfortably. "I'm worried about the Arl myself. But...I think it might be wise for us to pay the Circle a visit first."

Morrigan looked equal parts disgusted and intrigued. Alistair looked surprised bordering on indignant.

Elan held up a hand to forestall comment. "I know the arl's reputation as a fair and just man, but...keep in mind,Teyrn Loghain was also regarded as a great man...and a hero."

"Arl Eamon would never do what he did!" Alistair protested, sounding utterly convinced. "I know him too well for that." He hung his head and muttered something that sounded like I should, anyway, seeing as how he raised me. Any other time, Elan's curiousity would have seized that like Woofus snatched a bone. But—tempted as she was—she couldn't afford the distraction just now.

"I am willing to believe he will give us a hearing if he is able—" guilt caught at Elan's voice as Alistair's face contorted with worry, "But...even if he does...I was there—at Ostagar—and I can still scarcely believe Loghain deliberately quit the field. At first, when he didn't come, I thought there had been some mistake or mishap—he was taken by surprise or...he hadn't seen our signal...I wondered if..."

"We were to blame?" Alistair asked, looking as sick as she felt, trapped between guilt and denial. "I wondered too...but, you know that signal had to be visible for miles! Even if it was late, when he saw it, he should have come! You know he should have come! You...you tried to tell me something was wrong. But I didn't want to listen. I was sure Loghain would come. I was sure he was coming...because he'd always come to the rescue before. He was Loghain the hero, Loghain the invincible..."

"And he may well still be as far as Arl Eamon knows," Elan said flatly. "All the more so if they once fought together against Orlais. Why—" would he believe us over a comrade in arms, a man he has—by definition—trusted with his very life?

"Would Loghain betray the country he helped to save? Leave the son of a king who held him as a brother, a boy who had known and loved him from the time he was in swaddling clothes, to die?" Alistair supplied instead, the words ragged with grief. "I didn't know when Morrigan told me he had, and I still don't."

Elan nodded grimly. "And without such an answer, why should the arl believe our words anything more than an empty denial of the guilt Loghain insists we harbor? If we claim Loghain seeks to blame us for his sins, as—all doubts aside—we know he does, how is the arl to know we don't simply seek to blame ours on Loghain? As Ser Bryant and the Revered Mother made all too clear...it seems nothing more than outrageous claims and unreasonable assertions on either side."

"You're right." Alistair frowned. "Why do you have to be right?"

"Sorry?" Elan rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. "But...the mages of the Circle were at Ostagar; they were on the field. Some of them had to have seen what happened—or what didn't happen. If any of them survived, they've probably started back to the Circle by now—"

"And why would this arl of yours be any more likely to believe you simply because some tame mage tells him he should?" Morrigan scoffed.

"He might not," Elan conceded. "But at least the mage would seem to have less to gain from a lie than either the Wardens or Loghain. Surely that ought to count for something? And...some of those mages at Ostagar were healers...if one of them could help cure the arl's illness...that ought to earn some points in our favor as well, don't you think?"

"Well, when you put it like that..." Alistair groaned, "I suppose we're off to visit the mages. Great. They just love me."

"No wonder they're kept under lock and key. Truly one fears for their sanity as well as their safety," sneered Morrigan.

"Thank you, Alistair." Elan said gratefully, rolling her eyes in Morrigan's direction, "we'll continue on to Redcliffe as quickly as we can. You have my word."