Charlotte woke in darkness, too startled to move. A few moments and she remembered where she was and that she was mostly safe. She was warm and comfortable and her arms were stiff but much less painful then they had been a few hours ago.

The young woman sat up as quietly as she could and began struggling with her hair-three attempts at a braid proved too much movement on her burned skin.

It crossed her mind that she could much more easily chop it off... then she shuddered and bound her hair up on top of her hair instead, lighting a candle in order to cut a makeshift ribbon from one of her father's least favorite coats.

She searched the room and found that someone had brought in a uniform for her. She tossed the coat onto the bed but exchanged her ragged trousers for the dark pants. Had they really come looking for two of the governor's daughters without bringing any women's clothing? she wondered irritably. What she wouldn't give for one of her more practical hats.

Anamaria's hat was on her head, perched at the most flattering angle she could get. There was no help for her shirt or cloak, she supposed.

Charlotte stared at herself in a mirror and when her eyes reached her face she found disappointment. With a sharp yank, she ripped the ribbon out and let her hair tumble down behind her. A wind slipped through the cracks in the doors and window and a few strands drifted forward over her cheeks. Fine. A compromise. A few minutes later she hung out the window, her hair half up and half down and the ribbon the neatest bow she could make with the stained bandages still running up and down her arms.

There were plenty of decorations and nooks for her to catch hold of as she swung along the side of the ship. A few times her cloak caught as well and she had to grit her teeth and yank it free with as quiet a rip as possible. She couldn't hear anyone above but who knew who might be listening on the other side of the ship's hull.

It occurred to her too late that she might have had more luck sneaking around with the red coat if she'd meant to fetch food from below ship and then her stomach growled so loudly that gave up and leapt on to the deck of the ship. No one would care if she wanted food. She was being stupid. She was suddenly very hungry.

Her posture straightened and she put on a confident face, walking just out of the lantern light and down the steps midship. A soldier sat up straighter as she appeared and she simply tipped her chin further into the air and said, "Food?" and the soldier gave her specific directions. She returned with a hand filled with some dried meat and a bag of the same stuff in her belt. She had two canteens and a pouch of biscuits down her shirt as she smiled at him. Another canteen was in her hood and a little cloth-wrapped cheese was under her hat.

If she got caught, she would never live this down. She would go into exile. She would never stop running if something fell out from its hiding place. Oh, she was going to get caught.

Her heart beat faster and faster.

She was going to get caught.

Charlotte's thoughts began to race as she fought to keep her breath and face calm.

shewasgointogetcaughtshewasgoingtogetcaughtshewasgoingtogetcaught--

Charlotte didn't get caught.

Back above ship, she moved confidently to one of the small rowboats normally used to reach shore and return in shallow water, not meant for traveling far. She placed her food carefully under one of the rowboat's plank benches and crouched on the deck beside it. She took a long sip of water as she looked around.

It was long after midnight with mist creeping up from the ocean and through the rails; she was pretty sure that it was too dark for the upper levels of the ship to look down and see her. There was no one at her door-likely it was locked-and a glance at the front of the ship found the only soldier there sitting strangely still. She narrowed her eyes--he was asleep.

With the help of a gust of wind, Charlotte lifted the boat and swung it over the side. She loosened her resistance on the rope to let it sink and was nearly ripped her off her feet as she misjudged the weight and help of the pulleys above her. There was an eternal moment of stubborn panic as she was pulled to her tiptoes.

Then a hand reached out and seized the rope just above her blistering hands, yanking the boat to a standstill.

She looked up at the grunt of effort and found the commodore just above her. She had another moment, this one too short, to study his face before he looked down and frowned at her.

"Charlotte." He closed his eyes and she watched him try to be stern. He just looked tired. "Stay."

"If it helps," Charlotte tried to put her smile into her voice. "I'm not going after the pirates."

Norrington opened his eyes. "You think someone else--"

"No. When I... When I did whatever I did... When you saw me, that was someone else. I'm going to ask them for help." Charlotte gritted her teeth and stepped back from James Norrington, each inch as much a struggled as tearing her cloak from the splinters of the ship. Eos would help, wouldn't she? Surely, now that Charlotte had lost twice as much. Elizabeth and Will...

"Then tell us where to go. Let us help you." Norrington said quietly.

Charlotte threw a leg over the rail. "You have your duty. As an officer. A sailor." She waved a hand at the ship. "To your men who will likely try to kill my... 'friend' if they see magic."

"Charlotte..."

She shook her head and frowned up

at him, still hanging onto the rope. "Not everyone is as sensible as you, Commodore." She waited a moment. "You know I'm right. Please trust me."

"Charlotte... Miss Swann... I must... You have other options."

The wind curled around her, urging her to move, to go.

"I am the only who can do this." She held out a hand and caught the end of the rope, holding it firmly as she tugged it away from him.

"Be that as it may..." He resisted for a moment before letting it slip from his fingers. "You don't need to... We'll find your sister and you can go home."

"And do what?" Charlotte twisted, throwing her remaining leg over the rail and stepping into the rowboat. "Sit and do nothing while they do all this again to another family?" She broke from his gaze and stared out at an invisible horizon. "While the man I care for marries my sister?" As soon as that courage had come it was gone and she couldn't dare look and see his reaction. "Goodbye, Commodore." She jumped into the boat and let the rope slip through her fingers.

"Charlotte!"

She looked up at the sound of her name to find a stunned-looking James Norrington. She just looked back sadly. Her boat hit the water with a jolt and she sliced through the ropes still binding her to the ship, still not sure he wouldn't try to stop her.

She looked up one last time to find him leaning precariously forward, indecision on his face for once instead of hers. Then she held out a hand, letting sea spray splash her fingers before holding them up to see which side would be cooled by the wind.

She needn't have bothered; the waves were already urging her where she needed to go.

And James Norrington and his ship had already disappeared into the night behind her.

She heard the faint call of her name echo across the sea one last time.

Then she was alone in the darkness.