Chapter Text
Eight days. You had been stuck in this shabby establishment on Tortuga for not more than eight days. Nonetheless, it was more than enough to let you believe you might go crazy if you had to stay for one more night. You had to find a ship to sail away on, the sooner the better. The one that left you here had sailed away with half of the initial crew, goodbye and good riddance to the rest of you. Not that you especially wanted to stay with them any longer, from the whispers you had heard they might very well be headed straight to mutiny. You gave them a week at sea before everything went south, give or take a few days depending on the rum supplies.
Looking at your empty glass with a sigh you fought against the urge to roll your eyes at the usual drunk sailors and pirates singing and arguing in the bar below. Despite the fact that you had practically grown up on a pirate ship you always had a hard time enjoying their company while you were not at sea. Being stuck on land always made you irritable and erased any trace of your joyful spirit. It did not help that you seemed to be thrown from ship to ship, never able to settle properly within a new crew. Maybe you should have never left in the first place. But as long as you could sail the seven seas freely you were happy enough, the company didn't matter that much.
You risked a bored look down at the drunk scoundrels below, taking in the dim lighting of the tavern, the usual evening shenanigans at work. Scanning the room for anything to steer you away from your gloomy thoughts you noticed something slightly out of place, in the most remote corner of the ground floor. A small surprised smile tugged at your lips as you spied a couple of familiar faces, this might be your best shot at getting away from this rathole of an island. You got up and quickly made your way down the stairs, further assessing what was going on.
Eavesdropping on a few exchanged words between some of the disheveled men around you was all it took to confirm what you were suspecting. Captain Jack Sparrow was hiring a new crew. And it was by far the best news you had heard in well over a week. Thrilled by the opportunity that was laying ahead, you made your way through the crowded space until you reached the line forming before the desk that had been set up for the occasion.
A few minutes, and a fair share of crazy sailor’s stories later, it finally was your turn. You took a step forward, crossing your arms, standing in front of the man who seemed to wearily listen to the applicants. “What a surprise seeing you in here again, Master Gibbs,” your wide smirk did a very bad job at hiding your excitement.
“A little bird told me you were hiring.” You could see the gears turning in his head for an instant before his eyes lit up and a grin bloomed on his face. “Little Lynx?” You slightly cringed at the old nickname, which seemed to regrettably not be about to be given up anytime soon.
“What on earth are you doing here? Last time we saw you you were leaving the Caribbean Sea for good,” he continued while gesturing to Jack, who was leaning against the closest wall, to join you. “Long story short, I'm back. And in dire need of a crew to join.” You knew you sounded more desperate than you would have liked to, but you really needed to get the hell out of here. And you definitely had no wish to explain why you were forced to mope around the dusty inn instead of being away as you envisioned. Getting back had already been enough of a challenge.
As Jack arrived and took you in you could see the way his brows furrowed as he recognised you. You could have sworn you noticed him struggling not to take a step back. “You wanna sail as a member of me crew… again?” It was an effort to keep a straight face and hold back your laughter at his uneasy tone. The last time around was definitely… an interesting experience. But if you were being honest you had missed the craziness and unexpectedness of sailing under Sparrows orders.
“Sure thing, are you not in need of sailors anymore?” You quipped back, slightly tilting your head to feign surprise. Jack opened his mouth to answer but Gibbs chimed in, cutting him off before he even got the chance to say a word. “We are, leave your mark here and you'll be welcome back aboard the Pearl.” He slid a sheet towards you, picking up a pen you signed the document and turned to Jack with a bright smirk. “Very glad to be sailing under your flag again, Captain.” You could see him practically fret and answer with an uneasy smile and nod, which this time made it impossible for you not to snicker as you walked away from the desk. You had no idea why he was always so tense around you but you delighted in it. Behind you the line of men kept growing, and you already heard them signing in another member for the crew.
You walked back up to the table you had been occupying for the last eight days and grabbed your coat and the few belongings you possessed before quickly making your way to the door. As you stepped outside the chill of the night raised the hairs on your arms but you breathed in deeply. A warm sigh left your lips as pure joy washed over you. You were about to sail again. Farewell mothy taverns and inns, welcome sea breeze, rocking waves and starry nights.
You winced when you heard a sudden thundering noise on the other side of the door, undoubtedly indicating the start of a fight. You quickly headed for the port, a lightness and urgency in your steps at the thought of what was awaiting.
As you finally reached the top of the pier the din of the town had become a distant lullaby. You looked up, your eyes sparkling as you stared in awe at the black hull and sails floating proudly in front of you.
Oh, how you had missed her. It would be a lie to say that any other vessel you had sailed on could hold a candle to the infamous Black Pearl, wherever in power, beauty or pure presence. Swaying lanterns dotted the ship and you could see a few men already walking the deck. You were due to sail tomorrow at first light and knew it would be a busy night to get ready to weigh anchor came dawn.
Boarding the ship, you took your time, running your hand on the wooden railings, listening to your steps echoing on the deck. You easily found your way around, your memories were as fresh as if you left only yesterday, and not months ago. Your feet led you around the upper deck, from bow to stern, stopping behind the wheel and contemplating the stretching horizon, the moon’s reflection glistening in the water below.
Smiling to yourself, you happily made your way below deck quickly greeting the passing men who were slightly increasing in number. Adjusting to the even dimmer light you browsed the lower deck. Those guns, the hanging hammocks, even the smell of the salted water trapped in the wood, everything was exactly as you remembered.
Moving around the ship with ease, you were stirred away from your path by the smell of salted meat and other edible goods. You reached what you knew would be the place for the cook to do his magic, given the ingredients you had on board it could be considered a miracle to turn them into something… edible. You wouldn’t dare say tasty, trusting your past experiences.
Between the stacked barrels you saw a crouched figure seemingly staring at the floor. They had their back to you but, despite the shadows, you noticed the tangled and messy straw-coloured hair. As well as the long and lanky limbs, dressed in clothes at least twice their size. Frowning, you took a tentative step toward what appeared to be a young boy. Clearing your throat, you hesitantly addressed the somewhat familiar sailor, you had to make sure…
“Dip’?...” Your voice uneasily echoed in the hull for too many stretching seconds before the boy turned swiftly to face you, jumping to sit on a barrel, legs dangling on each side. Distracted from whatever he was spying at, he fully faced you and you instantly recognised his wicked grin, the shine in his muddy green eyes. Golden freckles were sprinkled on his face and arms, almost looking like constellations.
“Little Lynx,” that name again, but surprise and awe echoed in his high pitched yet raspy voice. “What the hell are you doing on the Black Pearl ?!” you couldn’t help a fond laugh from bumbling in you. “I was about to ask you the same thing. What about the grand plan of becoming London's most prized chef?” You hoped that redirecting the question would work to get him to talk about himself and offer you the opportunity to avoid explaining how you ended up here. Everyone seemed too interested in your situation today, and you did not care for it.
You sat on a nearby barrel, listening as he answered with a shrug. “I bought a fair trip on an honest ship, boarded it, none of the crew, nor passengers for that matter, believed in my genius. Or even cared to taste anything I made,” he dismissively waved his hand before continuing. “It was so quiet, I got bored. Left the ship before setting sail and went back to Tortuga. At least people here don't mind the smoke or the smell,” a nose scrunch followed.
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you tittered lightly. Dip’ was the cook on a ship you worked on two years ago, and that sounded typically like him. He was barely fifteen years old back then, and he still had that boyish demeanour about himself. That is if you set aside the crazy glint in his eyes, burnt fingertips and scars that ran along his arms up to his shoulders. His explosive personality hadn’t vanished either as far as you could tell. If you were being honest he was more fit on a pirate ship than anywhere else, and you truly believed he was at his happiest meddling in the kitchen for a crew of pirates while sailing free.
“How come I haven’t seen you around? I’ve been stuck on this godforsaken island for more than a week.” He exaggeratedly put his hand on his heart, acting shocked when you dared criticize Tortuga and you only snorted in answer. He gave another shrug. “We just made port when I heard another ship was about to set sail and needed some men, so I jumped straight back in.” Nodding you vaguely gestured to the spot he was inspecting when you arrived. “And you were…” His eyes lit up and he sat straighter. “Oh! I was befriending a rat.” You just stared at him.
“Right. I’ll leave you to it then.” You blinked incredulously and he nodded once. You got up, putting your hands in your pockets. Turning away, you chuckled and smiled fondly as your heart swelled. It was nice to see a friendly face around here after all, especially one you thought you would never encounter again.
You were not far when you heard him call out. “You won’t always be able to walk away from telling me how you got here. And I’m glad to be stuck on the same ship as you again!” You didn’t bother turning back, still not wanting to disclose your previous whereabouts. Slightly raising your hand, you let him know you heard him and that the feeling was mutual.
You almost never got the chance to find yourself sailing with men you had already met and whose company you actually enjoyed. Not after spending so many years on the same ship and never feeling like you belonged anywhere else after it. Dismissing the thought with a sigh, you reached the main deck again. Walking aimlessly, you finally stopped before the wheel and sat on the railings facing the body of the ship.
You relaxed your shoulders and took a deep breath in, allowing yourself to idle for a second before joining the busy crew and helping them however you could. Your eyes drifted to the pier when you heard Sparrow’s voice. He was urging Gibbs to hide the rum. Why would he… your eyes narrowed as you spotted a woman behind them, Jack had walked up to her and seemed to agitatedly argue with her. But you were more focused on the fourth person accompanying them, trailing behind, and you swore when you finally recognised him.