#jailsucks

A/N: Well, Ellana’s in jail. Yup. Silly lady with her stealing things from rich, powerful folk. But then, what’s the point of stealing from the poor and disenfranchised? They don’t have much. Hell, you might even feel bad and give them your stuff. Dang it. Happens every time. Lol. Anyway, hope you enjoy another taste of this weird Rockgod!Solas AU. :D

Links to:  Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8,Ch9,Ch10,Ch11,Ch12,Ch13,Ch14,Ch15,Ch16,Ch17,Ch18,Ch19,Ch20,Ch21,Ch22, Ch23, Ch24, Ch25,Ch26,Ch27, Ch28, Ch29, Ch30, Ch31

Jail’s not as bad as she thought it’d be.

It’s warm, and dry. Relatively clean. The food is not the worst thing she’s had to choke down: Maybe even a couple steps up from the ol’ bread and water schtick. The cot in her cell with its three-inch mattress is hard on her back, but all in all, nothing like she imagined. Nothing like it is in all those cop dramas on the tube.

Sadly, they did make her take out her piercings … all of them. Back when she’d been processed in Haven. And since she’s pretty sure she saw the desk sergeant toss them in the trash, she probably won’t get them back. 

Sighing, she lays back on her bench and stares at the ceiling. Her shoulder barks a complaint. She rubs it in apology, careful of the stitches.

The worst part is the boredom. There are other prisoners, but they’re entertaining themselves in their own cells. None of them seem hostile or even very interested in harassing anyone.

There’s just this intense, crushing … waiting.

Everyone’s just waiting.

That’s probably jail, though. Caught in the limbo before conviction or acquittal. Or so she imagines. Prison is ‘arriving.’ The atmosphere is probably altogether different there. People getting shanked and whatnot. She chews her lip, anxiety clawing at her bowels.

A guard pauses outside her cell and taps on the bars. “Lavellan.”

“Yes, sir?” ‘Sir’ing never hurt, especially in her situation.

“Visitor,” says he, gesturing to persons out of her line of sight. The door buzzes and slides open. Wary, he beckons with a hand that she should precede him. Which she does, glad to be out of that confining cell.

A series of doors open before her, all manned by guards in uniform. The guard behind her points to the left over her shoulder and she pushes open one last door to see a small room with a rectangular table in the middle of it. On the other side, an elven woman sits, young-ish tattooed face smiling at her with openness and cheer.

Ellana frowns and sits opposite of her, turning when the door latches back closed. The guard stands just outside. She can see him through a tiny window in it. Puzzling why he’d leave her alone with the woman, she turns back and says, “Uuum, hello.”

“You have got to be Ellana. Oh, you fit his description to a ‘t.’ You’ve got to tell me how you met. How did you ever get him to—” starts her lilting voice, thick accent throwing her back to another time and place. Firelight and laughter. Prayer circles with a looming figure at the center— 

The woman seems to notice her shock then and trails off. Her large olive green eyes flick over Ellana’s face. Then the woman sticks her hand out. “I’m getting ahead of myself again, aren’t I? I’m Merrill, your lawyer.”

Jolted from her daze, Ellana takes that hand in her own and gives it a single shake. “My … lawyer?”

“Yes, unless you’ve an objection.”

“One: I don’t remember hiring or paying you?”

Her hands flap that notion away. “You and Solas, always following the buck. As though money holds a candle to principle.”

What an odd thing for a lawyer to say. Stunned anew, Ellana can only listen as Merrill outlines what will happen to her and explains what has already happened in the meantime.

“—so then you were extradited. We’re in Minrathous right now, too. Close by in a hotel. Preparing the case. Collecting witnesses and testimony. All sorts of things. The rest of the band travels back and forth from Kirkwall when they can.”

“But you said Corypheus will drop the charges if we give him the foci. Why don’t we just do that?”

A flash of banked anger flares in the back of Merrill’s eyes. “I wouldn’t give that man anything, if I could help it. He’s taken enough. Besides, it’s already too late.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there was a window between your arrest and extradition where we could have done that, but Solas sort of slammed it shut himself when he filed a claim on the foci, saying it was his rightful property.”

Flat and angry, Ellana says, “What?! But he’d have to—”

“—take up his old identity. Yes. But if he succeeds, then that charge can’t stick. How could it if he never filed a report of the theft? If it never belonged to Corypheus in the first place. And believe me, first-degree felony robbery is not a charge we want to stick. The other ones are not nearly as serious.” Merrill nods, giving a sad smile. “Anyway, Corypheus learned of it and moved to have the Tevinter government extradite you, saying in essence that you stole a national treasure. So now it’s a big tangled ball of a mess. Corypheus is hoping the threat of exposure will keep Solas from pursuing trial.”

The position that leaves Solas in ….

Ellana snorts, then worries at her lip. “He doesn’t know how stubborn Solas can be.”

“Indeed. But don’t worry, Ellana. This process could take months.”

“So … I’m going to be stuck here for months, unless I’m convicted at trial, then it’s off to prison.”

Merrill shakes her head. “The grand jury already met. They are moving forward with prosecution based on what evidence Corypheus and the investigating officer collected. But next is the bail hearing in two days. I’m confident we can persuade them to let you out on bail.”

The copper tang of blood bursts on her tongue from a rent spot on her lip. Her guts writhe and knot like nervous snakes.

A slim hand moves across the gap and closes over her wringing two, giving them a warm squeeze. The contact eases the fear to something less like panic. Ellana pulls one hand free and puts it over Merrill’s so it’s sandwiched between her palms.

“Don’t fret. We’ll get you out of this mess,” says the lawyer. “You have more support than you know. We’ll steer you through these choppy waters.”

Swallowing to wet her throat, she says, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. I’ve never been the defense on a criminal case before.” Merrill’s grin widens with eagerness. “It’s exciting!”

Ignoring the sudden dropping of her guts, Ellana admonishes herself. What other options does she have anyway? “Glad I could grant you this opportunity.”

Sarcasm, Ellana? Really?

To Merrill, she gives an apologetic shrug. The other elf just smiles, then leans forward to whisper in conspiratorial tones, “Alright, now will you tell me all about you and Solas?”

Ellana looks into her earnest, shining eyes and laughs. “Well, maybe not all about us. What do you want to know?”

“How did you meet? Where? In Kirkwall? What was he like the moment you met him? Have you two—?”

She holds her hands up to stymie the flood of words. “Whoa. One at a time. I don’t mind telling you, but you gotta do something for me.”

“Of course.”

“Tell Solas to visit me tomorrow. There’s some … things we need to discuss.” Ellana lets a little of her feelings show in the furrowing of her brow and the feral curling of her lip to one side.

Merrill giggles and says, “Certainly. I’ll drive him here myself.”

_________________________________

“So, it’s alright for you to risk yourself, but not me, huh?” She watches him wince on the other side of the glass, phone receiver to his ear. Good. He deserves it. “But even that’s not enough, because you’re not just risking yourself any more. You’ve decided to poke the shark when I’m still flailing in the water.”

“Ellana, I—”

“It would have been nice to be consulted before being thrust in the middle of you and Corypheus’s dick-measuring contest.”

He sinks lower into the folding chair. That brooding brow pulls low over wide eyes. There’s even lip biting going on. She dubs the look ‘kicked puppy’ and tries to harden her heart against it, and fails. But her mouth still does the right thing, “Is it worth it? Is keeping the damn foci, or proving your point, or whatever else you’re doing worth all of this?”

In the long silence after, remorse fills his eyes to the brim and beyond. He passes a hand over his lower face and sits back. Then his hand drops into his lap.

His mouth opens once or twice, then it finally emits a single soft word, “Yes.”

A twist at her soul pulls a bitter laugh out of her throat. But then she looks away and smiles, saying, “It better be. If I go to prison, it’s gonna make jumping your bones a little difficult to do.”

He starts in his chair and peers at her through the glass like she’s gone mad.

Maybe she has. After all, he seems willing enough to sacrifice her on the altar of pride. Lucky then, that she happens to agree with him.

This time.

For this reason, she’s willing to let it slide. “Merrill told me about some of it. The blackmail. The leverage of coin. And blood. Corypheus ransoming artists’ souls. It is worth it. That fucker needs to eat shit and die. Big time.”

His head lifts once more, until he seems his proud self again. A smile flickers on the edges of his mouth, but doesn’t quite manifest when his gaze finds her shoulder and the bandages that peek out from under her blue jumpsuit. “How is your shoulder?”

She shrugs. “The pain comes and goes. The meds in here suck a bit. Make my mouth all cotton-y, but it’s better than letting it go septic.”

Brows furrowing, Solas says, “Are they not giving you painkillers?”

“They do, but I squirrel them away to pay for cigarettes and toilet gin.” The hard scowl on her face doesn’t hold against his incredulous stare, and laughter bursts out of her mouth. “Your face! Ha! Had you going for a sec!”

“You did not,” he retorts, with a huff, but he smiles a real smile, and how that yanks at her heartstrings. “You do not even smoke.”

“No! I saw you! Maker’s crusty undies, Solas, I’ve only been in here a few days. Take me a week, at least to become a hardened criminal.” Ellana hums another laugh and continues, “It was always headed this way. I stole the damn thing. I knew there’d be a price eventually. I just didn’t think it would blow up in my face like an atom bomb. Or that the man I love would have to do what you’re doing going to bat for me. Give up what you’re giving up. And for that, emma lath, I am so sorry.”

His hand twitches on the masonite bit of counter on the other side of the glass. She can feel its intent and grimaces, wishing the glass gone so he could touch her cheek. “I am sorry, as well. When you summoned me, I … resigned myself to the idea that it was over between us. It would not have stopped me from helping you, but it—” hurt.

He didn’t have to say it. She can see it clear as day.

“We are both selfish,” she says. “We’ll just have to be better, from now on.”

“Yes,” he sighs, leaning very close to the glass.

Ellana mirrors him, staring into his eyes. After a bit of maudlin brooding, she grins a wicked grin. “This is the part where I rub my bare nipple on the glass, right?”

This close, it’s hard to miss the flush that rushes up his cheeks to his very eartips.

The guard behind her grumbles, “You better not.”

She ducks in chagrin. “Spoilsport.”

Solas laughs, and a warmth pours into her. Seriously, when is she going to get to ravish this man? He says, “Well, this is one more step on the path to stardom.”

“Hmm?” She quirks a brow at him. “What? Going to jail? Is that one of the milestones?”

His smile broadens to a grin.

“How many times have you been to jail?” she asks, real curiosity tickling at her.

“Many times, and not just for possession.” The mischievous twinkle in his eyes entrances her.

“Sounds like a story to me.”

“One I shall wait until we have some privacy to tell.”

She pouts. “Fine.”

Solas places his hand on the glass with a comic, melodramatic air. With an expression of grave and tragic seriousness, he says, “Don’t eat the green bologna.”

Ellana puts her own hand palm to glass to palm with his, and simpers, “Will you wait for me, baby?”

Fighting laughter, Solas replies, “Forever.”

She laughs all the way back to her tank, until her sides hurt with it.