The Devil's Temptress: The Curse of the Black Pearl || Jack Sparrow

XIV. The Ol' Sailor

God, Tortuga was bleak.

It had only been an hour since she had left the pier and she had already uttered that to herself numerous times. After dragging her heels through the town giving herself a pity prep talk and then spending a good amount of time in the market trying to barter some breakfast to line her stomach, Nic had ended up standing outside a place she had thought she would never see again.

The Ol' Sailor.

One of the taverns with a tamer name on this land, but with just as bad of a reputation. It looked alright, meaning the roof was in one piece and there were minimal bullets lodged in the walls. It was on the outskirts of the town, closer to the edge of the jungles surrounding the town, which meant it was quieter and often a little emptier due to the longer walk from the dock for drunken men to tackle. At least it had been when Nicolette had first stepped foot into it, after all it was for that reason why Nicolette assumed her mother had chosen it. Back when the islands population was lower, but over the year the footfall in the port only seemed to increase leaving less places to drink and more custom their way.

It hadn't been a bad thing, when she was relying on the custom to be able to afford a living.

Nicolette found herself taking a deep inhale of breath the moment she stepped through the old oak double doors already knowing what to expect on the other side. It was like coming home to her after all.

The table were still organised into the same pattern as if they were nailed down and not thrown across the tavern and through windows every other night. The giant mantles still held roaring fires and the giant candlelit chandeliers above hung, still holding the same dust from a decade ago no doubt.

The bar was the same, barrels and bottle filling every free surface with lanterns and clusters of candles lighting otherwise dark gloomy back of the hall. Overhead were two levels of balconies, one leading to another level of tables and a large outdoor balcony space illuminated by small firefly sized handing lanterns and overcast by the hanging leaves of the growing palms. The second level housed all of the bedrooms belonging to all of the paying guests and a handful of the women who found customers here. The final level, hidden and only accessible via second floor window leading to a weak staircase fixed to the outside of the building, was were the rest of the whores had rooms, as well as the land lady and, come once upon a time, herself.

She had kept the smallest room, the best the land lady could offer with what small change Nicolette's mother had offered and with what little work an eleven year old could do. It had no windows, a door with a two inch gap at the bottom which let in the slightest of drafts and a few mice for good measure. Nic could remember playing the forgotten princess during her first year of staying here, pretending the mice were her friends, that they were magic... what a silly little child she had been.

As her head craned up to the ornate ceiling however, Nic found herself smiling at the memories. The ones during which she was thought how to cook, how to serve the men which came in and not get hurt. How the older whores had taught her how to be street smart and the younger had taught her how to seduce a man and properly present her assets. It wasn't bad, not even the mice were that bad, if they were she may have taken up the offer of being a whore just to earn a few extra coin.

What would her life be now? She wondered, if she had just put on the pretty dress and batted her eyelashes...

Movement behind the bar caught her attention and the smile momentarily disappeared from her face before it reappeared seconds later double the size.

A woman who must have been in her late forties, possibly older, was moving up and down the bar clearing the odd item and shouting commands to random people up in the rafters. Her dress was worn, marked, but large and ruffled giving the perfect impression of a Madame.