With honourable intentions, let's flirt with ghosts (POTC)

Debt

La María Silenciosa floats almost exactly one nautical mile out from the port of Tortuga. After four weeks of sailing, the Spanish warship had finally arrived at the destination set by its captain.

Those four weeks have been both a blessing and a curse to its crew and guest.

The warmth of sunlight on their skin, the cool relieving embrace of a sea breeze, even the taste of dry rations, have all been a balm to the crew, filling them with a sense of relief and appreciation for the simple joys of life.

And yet...the crew have been burning. Burning with a desire to see their homeland on the horizon, growing frustrated with the endless expanse of sky and water. Quietly burning with fear, that something has been irrevocably changed within them. They're also all burning with curiosity; all their curiosity is directed towards La Maria's guest of honour.

The woman who saved their lives, a pirate who saved the lives of pirate hunters.

Miss (Y/n) Teague. Most of the crew had referred to her as Miss Sparrow until she corrected them. The woman has mostly spent the last few weeks in her cabin, or sometimes tucked behind the bow or in the cabin's quarters.

The guest has been the centre of a few strange occurrences. Several times, she had appeared below deck or stepped out from behind the mast when no-one saw her leave the cabin or come up on deck. The crew even spotted sharks, dolphins, schools of silver fish, flocks of gulls, and even large squid circling the ship at times.

Whispered rumours and nicknames for the woman race around the ship. El ángel dormido (The sleeping angel). Bruja del mar (sea witch). La única alma buena entre los piratas (the only good soul among pirates).

The Officers of La Maria Silenciosa have tried their best to keep the whispers of the crew to a minimum. But professional reprimands and gentle admonishments paired with guilt-tripping and stern looks can only do so much.

Especially when the officers themselves have been seen deferring to the guest and sometimes also parrot the angelic sentiments in private.

And even more especially when the captain himself pays special attention to the comfort of their saviour guest.

The captain's quarters have become a familiar sight for the woman, since Lesaro insisted on dining with her at least three times a week. The picture of a perfect gentleman, he has been nothing but courteous and kind. Always asking if there is anything he can do for her; he gives off the impression he feels indebted to the woman.

(Y/n) sighs as she once again finds herself standing on the deck, rocking on her heels outside the door to the captain's quarters, trying to ignore the prickle of many eyes turned in her direction.

Unlike most of her previous visits, it is bathed in the light of the midday sun.

The shadow of Moss waits by the stairs; his turn on escort duty will only be over once she has been safely seen into the care of the captain. His presence acts as a barrier, dissuading a few overly grateful crew members from trying to deliver handmade gifts to the young woman, again.

(Y/n) raises a fist and knocks.

The door swings open before she can complete her third knock.

Lesaro holds the door open stiffly, hand hidden from view perched on the inner handle. The edges of his uniform are sharp, and posture taught. "Come in, Miss Teague. Please."

(Y/n) does just that, glancing at Lesaro out of the corner of her eye. "It's still just (Y/n)."

He nods. "Of course, señorita (miss)."