Disclaimers: I don't own Potc nor the characters belonging to its franchise.
Thanks everyone!

'Take care, Lawrence! Please, promise me you'll write, wherever you are.' Gillette said, hugging his friend one last time.

'Of course Andrew, I will. Take care of yourself and… look after James, also.'

'I will' he nodded, smiling sadly.

'I wish I could have stayed with you longer'

'I know… Now go with Theodore, you must find a new ship. Don't forget to write us!'

Lawrence kissed Andrew's cheek and followed Theodore who was waiting for her on the quay.

Andrew waited till he couldn't see her anymore and went back to his Captain's quarters, his heart heavy. He knocked on the door.

'I do not wish to talk to anyone at the moment, Lieutenant. If it is a matter of emergency, I am sure you will be able to deal with it without any problems.'

Gillette was taken aback by his friend's stern tone and refusal to see him, but knowing better, he did not push further and left him alone.

On the other side of the door, James Norrington was sitting on his bed, staring at the floor. He needed time to process two things, the first one being that Lawrence was actually a woman; and the second being her sentence.

After two hours of talking and mild lies, Lawrence finally found a ship with the help of Theodore. True to his word to his Captain, he had left her alone when she asked the captains of different ships where she was to go. To Theodore, she would embark on board of the Arcadie, and that's it, he wouldn't know anything else.

This ship was neither a merchant nor a Navy ship, but the mere whim of a rich French aristocrat who loved to travel at sea on board of his sumptuous vessel. On his board were men as well as women, all of them wearing fancy clothes with ribbons and stuff of the highest quality. The Arcadie was to live in two days, which would give Lawrence some time to get used to the fanciful behaviours of those rich travellers.

'It grieves me terribly to leave you all' she told her friend. 'Please, remember me when I'm gone…'

'How could I ever forget you, Lawrence? You are my friend, and will remain so.' He hugged her tightly. 'Besides, we'll meet again, I'm sure of it' he winked, ineffectively hiding his sadness.

'Take care, Theodore. I'll miss you...'

'I'll miss you too, we'll all miss you. Be careful, and try to behave, alright?'

'I promise' she faintly smiled before kissing his cheek as well and squeezing his hand.

'Farewell my friend!'

'Bye, Theodore.'

He gave her one last smile then turned around to go to the Dauntless, anchored at the other side of the harbour.

Lawrence watched him go until she could no longer see. The tears she had managed to hold back so far threatened to flow. The pain of leaving her friends was unbearable, she needed to sit, she needed to find a quiet place and weep till there were no tears left in her; but she didn't have such a luxury. She would be brave one last time and held her head high among the people who had kindly welcomed her on board of their ship. And so she put on once again her armour of steel and came on board of the Arcadie.

Captain Combes, the captain of Arcadie, was a man with a big heart; his fortune hadn't given him the pretentiousness of those rich people who believed they were better than anyone else. He had one of those faces that inspired friendship instantly, with his big shinning eyes, his round prominent cheeks, his broad smile. Lawrence felt guilty to lie to such a nice man, but her lie was better than the truth; she had told him that she had missed her ship back in Havana, that the Captain of the HMS Dauntless had kindly agreed to escort her till their next stop so that she may board another ship that would lead her where her family was waiting for her. She also told him that she was dressed with men's clothes because it was better for her safety, which was until recently true. Hearing this, Captain Combes recommended her to his female friends on board, saying that they would take care of her and that she no longer had to worry about anything.

'Hello my dear, I'm Mrs Edith Gaillard' said a middle-aged woman coming to her. 'I'm a friend of Captain Combes. Come, don't stay there, I'll present you to my friends!' The woman was wearing far too much powder and perfume for her age, and the dress she was wearing made her look like a giant pink strawberry. 'What is your name, my dear child?'

'I'm Law- Charlotte, Madam, Charlotte Reynolds.'

For a moment, she had almost forgotten that she wasn't supposed to be Lawrence anymore. But Charlotte was long dead, she was Lawrence, as sick as that may sound. Because, who calls oneself by the name of a dead brother, however dear he might have been? Well, she did. She had promised she would be Lawrence for his memory's sake, and Lawrence she would remain. Since she had taken that name, she had grown so much, she definitely wasn't the same person anymore, and being revealed as a woman wouldn't alter the change she had felt internally. So yes, to others, to the crew of the Arcadie, to her remaining family, she would be Charlotte, but deep down, she would be Lawrence, until the end.

Only now did she notice that either the captain or this lady had talked to her in English, despite them being French, and this subtle attention touched her; those people were definitely the salt of the earth.

Mrs Gaillard led her to what looked like a salon, except it was on board of a ship. There, all gave the impression of richness and splendour, especially the women present, who were all wearing too much makeup and dresses of all sorts of colours.

The women presented themselves one after another, and invited Lawrence to join them and tell her "story".

'Oh! The poor little thing!' said one of them, a short one with a massive wig colour lilac.

'Ladies, we were starting to get bored, and now I have found the perfect idea…' said another one, the closest to Lawrence, wearing a tangerine dress. 'Miss Charlotte, how about some new clothes?' She asked eagerly.

Taking her silence for consent, the lady took her hand and led her to the middle of the room.

'Ladies, to our chests!' And then, all Hell broke loose. The cacophony of high-pitched voices, the quantity of stuff brought to her face to see which colour would suit her most, the ribbons, the wigs of any colours, all of this made Lawrence's head spin.

'Oh, to hear the blasts of canons once again' she bitterly thought. 'Fighting for my life sword in hand was far more pleasant than this absolute torture!'

There wasn't much she could do to prevent it, and so she let herself be handled by those women, like a doll.

After what seemed ages, the company of five women stepped back to admire their work, sharing words of appreciation. Lawrence feared the worse, a fuchsia wig with yellow bows in it, a skirt made of peacock feather… She had been so numb during the whole procedure that she really wasn't expecting much.

'Well, go on, look at how beautiful you are!' Edith said, pushing here to the mirror.

Lawrence blinked a few times before being aware that the woman in front of her was herself.

She was wearing a hideous yellow and meringue dress, and a pastel green wig with pink bows in it. She turned round, faked her enthusiasm at such an atrocity and thanked them for their kindness. After all, they did their best judging by what they were wearing themselves, it came from a good intention.

'You truly are gorgeous my dear! Though, a bit more meat on those bones would be preferable. Ah, but we are two weeks from Port Royal, so that will be a good head start.'

At the name of Port Royal, Lawrence crumbled to the ground, half bent over herself and hiding her eyes behind her hands. The straight face she had kept so far, since she had entered James' quarters to hear her sentence, had fallen. All the pain she had pushed aside came forth and submerged her; James's shocked reaction when he had discovered her true nature back in the streets, his icy cold and all too formal goodbyes, her pain of leaving him and her friends Theodore and Andrew, her new condition as a woman and all the formalities that ensued, and now those ladies who were stifling her despite their good nature.

The little feminine assembly was confused by such a reaction, obviously not expecting their young companion to breakdown at such a moment.

'There, there my dear, let it all out, that's it' said Edith, hugging as best she could considering the large skirts she and her new friend were wearing. 'It's only her nerves, ladies, the emotion of missing her first ship and finally returning to her family. It's all right my dear, we understand. Here, we'll show you to your room if you want!'

Lawrence hated herself for breaking down in front of them, for breaking down at all in fact. She thought she could endure everything blow after blow, but there's only so much a heart can bear, and her heart was effectively broken.

Two of the ladies and Edith led her to what would be her room during the journey. Though the dimensions were approximately similar to the one she had back on the Dauntless, she was surprised by how different it looked thanks to the rich tapestries and delicate pieces of furniture.

'We'll be in the boudoir if you need anything, my dear child. Now rest for a bit and come join us whenever you want.'

Lawrence thanked them between her tears and sat heavily on her bed, looking at her surroundings as in a dream, wishing the colourful walls were but mere wooden planks, the furniture a simple chair and a table, her bedding made of rough linen, and Captain Norrington's quarters only a couple of steps away.

On board of the Dauntless, the atmosphere was tense; the members of the crew were sad to have lost a friend and fellow mate, no matter what her sex was, Theodore and Andrew felt miserable, and as for James Norrington, anger and coldness had taken over his senses.

He went to the top deck and announced to the man currently at the helm that they would be leaving with the next tide as all men were already on board. 'All but one' he thought. 'Lawrence wasn't even a man, he-she doesn't count anymore.'

The Lieutenants Gillette and Groves waited for a good opportunity to talk to their friend, but this opportunity never showed up until they had reached the high sea.

'James…' ventured Theodore when he saw his friend lost in his thoughts, watching the shore becoming but a spot on the horizon.

Norrington grumbled.

'Listen, we…'

'I don't want to talk about any of it.'

'But we have to. She is our friend!'

'She betrayed my trust by hiding such a thing to me. I don't want to hear about her, not now, not tomorrow, never, is that understood, Lieutenant Groves?'

Theodore sighed and reluctantly nodded.

'If you need…'

'I won't need anything, thank you.'

Seeing how hopeless this was, Theodore left him to join Andrew who was on the main deck.

'So?' asked his friend, 'how did it go?'

Theodore shook his head, his brow furrowed.

'His pain is too raw, we won't have anything from him for a while.'

'I see… Then again, it's only logical. After all, the bond he shared with her was stronger than what we had with her…'

'I'm not sure he realises yet that that was love.'

'Oh, I do think he's starting to…'