The True and Remarkable Adventures of Minerva Broome.
My name is Minerva Broome, known formerly as a seamstress to Lady Worthington of Singapore, and in more recent times, the dread pirate Minerva. What follows is my story. If my tale seems to be a bit extravagant, let me assure you that this is no novel, but a true account of how I fell into that wicked way of life and came to be a notorious pirate. But first, I desire to make a vow, that if I, Minerva Broome, ever manage to get myself out of this mess, I will personally hunt Jack Sparrow down, and kill him myself. That is, if the King's Navy doesn't find him first.
The reason I write this, is to pass away time, as I am taken back to Barbados, and probably escorted all the way to the gallows. My pistols and cutlass have been taken away from me, and I have been forced to exchange my breeches for a dress. Why I'm being held in the captain's cabin, with access to writing paper and not in the hold will become clear in due time, but for now, I shall start at the beginning of my adventure.
In Singapore, I was one of the two seamstresses under the employ of the Governor Worthington's family, or more specifically, I was in charge of his daughter, Emily's, attire, while the other seamstress took care of the rest of the family. Before me, Emily had gone through six other seamstresses, for she had a habit of putting on weight during the off-season months, and then losing it all again during the month before the season started up again. This meant all her dresses had to be unpicked, and then taken in again and again, and this is no mean feat for any seamstress as Emily had more dresses than there were cannon on the Gunsway. Pardon the expression, but for reference's sake, the total number of guns onboard toted up to about fifty-two.
Nevertheless, I took the job, for I had wanted a challenge, and also because Emily was an affable girl. Thus, I spent my days in a little room off Emily's bedchamber stitching and unpicking countless dresses of an assortment of vivid and muted colours, and on most nights, I would be visited by Emily so she could be fitted. Usually, she would remain to share the day's gossip, for I had a weakness for it, and the both of us would more often than not, sit up till it was past midnight.
My adventures as a brigand unofficially began the night I was hemming Emily's burgundy dress which she had stepped on and torn during the ball that was held the night before, when she burst in, set herself onto the window sill, threw her head back and put her hand to her forehead with a dramatic flourish.
"Oh, Minerva!" she cried out intensely, like an actor onstage.
I didn't look up, for she did this quite often, and also because there was a knot in the thread I was using, and I was trying to untangle it.
"I'm in love-."
I still didn't look up, for she also made this remark fairly regularly.
"-with a pirate."
At this, my head shot up. This, I hadn't heard before.
"My lady, with all due respect, you must be joking."
Emily got up, danced about the room and giggled softly. Ye gods, she was serious. She sat beside me and fiddled with a basket full of tangled silks.
"Actually, I'm not joking," she told me, bouncing slightly in her seat. "And I need you to do me a favour."
I winced inwardly, the last time she asked me for a favour, I had to sneak onboard one of the navy ships, and had almost gotten caught. Sighing silently, I set down my work and turned to her.
"What is it you would like me to do, lady, keeping in mind what happened the last time you sent me out." I told her calmly, but she waved her hand dismissedly and handed me an envelope. It was perfumed.
"All you have to do is meet his man down at the tavern, and give him the letter. That's all."
"But why not give it to Graham?" I asked trying to wrangle out of doing it. Graham was one of the household's footmen.
"Because you know he'll tell daddy," Emily shot back. "Besides, I trust you, and it'll be easier for you to go than anyone else."
I was aware that she was referring to the colour of my skin, and I knew what she said was true. It would be easier for a mulatto to walk into a tavern, unquestioned, than it would be for a respectable young, white lady of the house. I sighed, resignedly, and Emily clapped her hands gleefully, knowing that I would do what she had asked me to. She pranced out of the room and returned with a dark cloak complete with a hood, a plain one, with satin lining and some inconspicuous embroider on the hem. It was the one I had made for her for her to use during her late night rendezvous with whichever young man had taken her fancy for that moment. She handed it to me, saying that she expected to get it back in one piece. It wasn't much of a threat, though; both of us knew that I would just mend any rips back into non-existence.
I left the Worthington residence using the servants entrance, ending up near a small alleyway that would take me almost directly to the tavern where I was to hand over the letter. Sticking to the shadows, I managed to slip into the noisy tavern without any incidents and sat myself down at one of the unoccupied tables. I cast my eye about the place, hoping that the information Emily had given me was accurate, and tried to locate her pirate's man. I should probably say right now, that I am not a very vigilant person, during the night, I am dead to the world, and even when I am awake, I usually do not pay any attention, or notice anything unless it comes within two feet of me. And so, I did notice the pirate until he sat down beside me, and put a drink down on the table. I jumped.
"Your mistress has sent you with a letter for my captain?" he said softly, almost whispering into my ear, making me very uncomfortable.
I put some distance between the two of us and look at him. He was handsome in a florid kind of way, and he grinned at me, his teeth white against skin tanned from many days of sailing. His breeches were as white as milk and he wore a splendid coat of midnight blue. The ribbon tying back his long curling hair was the same shade of blue. Even though he showed restraint, I could tell he was a pirate. I pulled out the envelope from a hidden pocket I had stitched into the cloak and handed it to him without a word. He took it and thrust it into his coat.
"I will meet you here tomorrow with my captain's letter for your lady," he said, downed his drink in one gulp , and walked rapidly out of the tavern before I could say anything about this arrangement.
When I returned to my sewing room, I found Emily waiting up for me, with a pot of tea sitting on the table beside her. As she poured me a cup, I told her what had happened, and asked her where this correspondence was going to lead her, and also pointed out that her father would not appreciate that she had fallen in love with a pirate. Emily refused to be fazed by this and handed me the tea.
"Don't worry, Minerva. I'll make sure daddy doesn't find out."
And with that, she skipped out of the room and shut the door with a goodnight. I drank my cup of tea in one gulp, wincing slightly as the hot liquid ran down my throat, and prayed that these affections my mistress had towards this pirate captain, were as fleeting as all the past romances she had had. For both our sakes.
(A/N) Alrighty, here's my first attempt at a POTC fic. I couldn't resist. Especially after getting the soundtrack to the second movie :D. What do you think?