"Pirates," whispered Charlotte. "More. Pirates."

"That about sums it up, Miss Swann." Her annoyance was nothing compared to Will's expression as he snatched swords off the wall and handed one to her. "I need to go."

Charlotte looked down at the sword in her hand and considered: her play with swords years ago verse how close she'd already come to dying that day already. "Be careful."

Will let out an ironic laugh. "You as well."

With a grunt of effort, Charlotte yanked the door open for him and he slipped out to join the fray. She hurriedly barred the door behind him and closed her eyes to listen for any sounds that would mean he had immediately been impaled or captured. Nothing. He was probably alright then.

Charlotte turned, her heart racing in her ears as she found herself alone in the dirty forge, darkness lit only by a glimmer of moonlight through some crack in the ceiling. The smell of metal and straw and the sleeping mule were much worse now that she was trying not to hyperventilate. She found herself fidgeting with the sword as the sound of fighting grew louder. She could hear strange, haunting laughs. And there were so many of them.

Something slammed against the door behind her.

She couldn't help it.

She let out one.

Little.

Scream.

You should have gone with Will.

"You hear that?" An eager voice said, maybe a foot behind her.

You should have gone with Will you should have gone with Will you should have gone with Will.

The sword suddenly seemed awkward in her hand, her skirt and cloak were twice as heavy-the door, on the other hand, now felt about as much protection as the sheets she should be tucked safely between.

"Eos, this is all your fault," Charlotte gasped.

Her eyes found the back door and she sprinted toward it, fighting the temptation to simply toss the door away. A peek through the keyhole showed a few more pirates stalking about, looking for a victim.

YoushouldhavegonewithWillyoushouldhavegonewithWillyoushouldhavegonewithW-

The panicked silence exploded in a crash of glass and a whoosh.

The dark room was suddenly filled with light.

Charlotte Swann turned slowly to consider this new development.

She studied it for a long moment.

"That door is on fire," She muttered. She blinked. "Oh. Oh! Oh, no."

She looked around desperately but she couldn't make out much as her eyes failed to adjust to the contrast of pitch dark versus the fire licking the outside of the door. She would have to go on memory-when was the last time she'd even been in here? Charlotte considered letting loose a curse as she ran toward the spot she remembered mule's harness and a large pillar. She swallowed the curse down with another scream as she rammed her shin into something large and sharp. The room was getting brighter as someone stabbed at the weakening door, fire peeking through the holes along with a sword. Charlotte raced the rest of the way to the column and clambered her way up into the rafters, clenching her own sword gingerly between her teeth.

Three pirates burst through the door as she reached her goal, one hand braced around the pillar and one against the ceiling above her.

She had a sudden urge to scream for Norrington. If he heard her, he would come running. He would save her. He had before, hadn't he?

But he wouldn't hear her.

She only had herself.

The crack that had let the moonlight trickle in was just behind her. She studied it as the pirates snuffled about below. She was sure there had been a window here, now apparently covered up with something. Charlotte closed her eyes. How close was the building next door? How fast could the pirates follow her?

"You said you heard a scream," One of the pirates complained.

"I did!"

Charlotte held her breath as a short shoving match broke out. She let herself crouch down on the rafter, shifting the sword back into her hand.

"Enough!"

Charlotte looked to the door to find another pirate, a man with a bushy beard. The wind seemed to sweep in behind him, what little fire had been left flaring up again to light his face just as he stepped into the moonlight.

Charlotte barely stopped herself from falling back with a start. A small, intrusive thought considered what an ignoble death that would have been--the rest of her was horror. Pure, swelling, crushing horror as the other pirates moved toward him and she caught traces of moonlight trickling across them as well.

She was mad.

That was it.

She was mad or she'd eaten something and now she was hallucinating.

She'd hallucinated 'Eos' and she was hallucinating skeletons and she was so, so scared that it didn't matter that this couldn't possibly be real...

"We've got the medallion. What are ye wasting your time here for?" The scraggly beard grew full again as the moonlight left him.

"We heard someone," Another pirate whined.

"Well, that's easy enough to fix, now ain't it?" The bearded pirate leered.

Without any sign of pain, the man snatched a splintered stake off of the burning section of the door. He disappeared for a moment, letting the other pirates walk out.

Charlotte slipped the sword back between her teeth and struggled to her feet.

There was little chance of this ending well for her.

She had just enough time to sidle over to the boarded window before a stake of wood came flying in like a spear and exploded in fiery splinters all over Will Turner's livelihood.

Charlotte decided to blame this on Eos as well.

Then she slammed the heel of her palm against the roof.

She felt the wood give way, nails on the outside of the roof pulled from their home as she hit it again and again. Blood was trickling down her arm--and down her leg for that matter, where she'd already injured her shin--but the room was growing lighter and she wasn't sure if the pirates meant to look for her once there was more light.

The board came loose with a low clatter. It was about half as much space as she needed to get free.

The girl tasted salt and the tang of steel as sweat hit the sword and trickled onto her lips. She slammed her hand against the next plank, berating the sword in her head as she wondered again if she should just drop the thing. If she was startled again, if the growing smoke made her cough; it wasn't going to stay between her teeth much longer anyway.

Her eyes stung from the fire as well. She was starting to understand the anger she'd seen on Will's face before he left, the disgust on Norrington's face as he'd looked at Jack Sparrow. She'd just decided to have a good talking with her sister about just how 'adventurous' pirate stories were when a much louder clatter rang out and Charlotte looked up to see the stars.

She saw just enough space for a young, awkward woman named Miss Swann to squeeze through.

She launched herself between the leftover planks.

She was free.

She listened for a moment: no shouts. No one appearing to check for the noises she'd made.

She was safe.

After that it was a simple matter to leap onto the next roof and pick her way across the block to a spot where she could clamber down. Charlotte could hear the sounds of the town changing from panic to mourning and clean up. She made her way to the ground and inspected her hands, nearly fainting as adrenaline wore off and she felt the pain of her hand and leg begin to throb. Worse, she felt the layers of sweat and clinging smoke in the fabric of her dress and across her face and hair.

She was disgusting.

Charlotte did what she could to smooth down her hair with the unbloodied hand then slice off a bit of her cloak to wrap around both of the wounds. She staggered down the road and up to Swann's manor to find her home in a panic. There was shouting and soldiers running in and out. Every light in the house appeared to be lit, hurting her smoke-stung eyes as she approached from the darkness of the ruined town. The door was hanging open and there was... there was a sheet over a servant where he had fallen beside it.

Charlotte stopped when she saw that, finding herself staring at it and wanting to throw up from fear and guilt and who knew what else. She was so tired.

"Miss Swann!"

She was grabbed from behind and had to fight off a start, strong hands gripping her around the elbows and walking her firmly across the room. This was worse, that same intrusive thought popped up: this was so much more embarrassing than simply falling to her death.

She realized she'd been crying just as she looked up to meet the eyes of Commodore Norrington. He brought her to a small couch off to the side of their room and kept his hands firmly around her elbow as she turned to look down at it, confused for a moment before she realized he wanted her to sit down and that she was instead clinging one-handed to his jacket again. A few thoughts later and she realized she was staring tearily into his worried, hazel eyes.

So, so much worse.

Charlotte abruptly let go of his coat and sat down. "What happened here?" She managed.

Norrington held up a finger and yelled for someone to get fetch the governor and a doctor. He looked uncertain as he turned back to her. "I'm sorry, Miss Swann. But it appears... it appears they took your sister."

"Took... took her?" She stared at him and she saw a hint of apology in his expression. Her eyes went to the fallen servant and then to the door and to the village beyond it. Her fingers ran over the hilt of the sword she still carried. Norrington grabbed her hand and gently stilled her fidgeting before she could hurt either of them. "Hmm?"

"Miss Swann." Norrington had said her name several times before her thoughts had managed to catch up. "We'll find her. I will do everything in my power to find her."

"Of course," Charlotte said vaguely. She turned back to find him looking concerned. "Of course, you will." Her eyes traveled back toward the open door. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"Miss Swann, I don't think you are well enough to-"

"Charlotte? Charlotte!" Her father rushed in grabbed her up into a hug, smothering her a bit against his crooked wig. He pulled away to glare at her. "Where have you been?"

"I..." Charlotte nodded in reply to Norrington's polite muttered goodbye as made his way back to his men. "I wanted a sword."

"A sword!"

Her father continued to bluster as the doctor finally appeared and rebandaged her injuries. Both men looked very concerned as the doctor pulled a splinter the width of a small flower stem out from under the makeshift wrapping on her hand. The governor went back to scolding his daughter as the doctor ordered her to drink plenty of water for her scratchy throat. There was a short discussion about the bruises on her neck from the attack from Jack Sparrow and then it was decided that Miss Swann should go to bed and rest for as long as possible.

At this point, they tried to take the sword from her uninjured hand.

Charlotte yanked back, wincing as she instinctively formed a fist with the free hand and felt blood begin to well up again. The doctor made a tsking sound but she hid the hand behind her back and insisted that he go. That she was fine. If her father hadn't been there, she might have been brave enough to ask about hallucinations caused by fear but instead she simply insisted that she was fine, that they should be focused on Elizabeth, not her. A few minutes more of reassuring her father, one more tight embrace, and she found herself traipsing weakly up to her bedroom, none the wiser about what was happening to her.

She fell into bed still in her dress and cloak, a sword clenched tightly in on hand, and a dresser shoved in front of her bedroom door.

She fell asleep planning how to save her sister.