Disclaimer: I own a real, actually-from-a-theater POTC poster, but nothing else, unfortunately.
Chapter One: A Change of Costume
"Do we just keep on pretending/And hope our luck is neverending?" (The Libertines)
Catherine Flynn awoke alone in the huge master bedroom of her home in Port Royal. The day would be very warm, she could tell already, but her hands and feet were cold. They always were. She pushed back the shroud of mosquito netting around her bed and stood up slowly, stretching. Pulling her dark hair back into a bun, she rummaged in the back of her wardrobe until she found a nondescript leather sack. She pulled it out eagerly, and spread its contents over the unmade bed.
The leather bag didn't contain things that were usually found in society homes. In fact, it contained things that had probably never been in another society home. Cat's bag held a complete set of pirate's clothes.
There were a pair of black pants, made of light silk and tied off at the calf, black boots to tuck them into, a fitted black camisole and a loose red shirt to go over it. There were also the numerous accessories; a floppy, wide brimmed black hat, a low slung belt with a pistol and a dagger, an old red bandana and a surprising amount of jewelry. Feeling around the in corners of the bag, Cat also extracted a stick of kohl. Now she was ready to go.
She put on the pirate clothes and looked herself over in the gilt edged mirror across the room. It was a familiar image to her, no different than one she'd seen seven years ago in her cabin each morning. The sun streaks had faded from her hair, and her tan was slightly less severe than it had been, but that would return over time. As she slipped on a few rings, she studied her hands. They were the biggest change. Her fingers had always been tapered and thin, but they'd been a bit rough from living on a ship. Now they were lady's hands, fine and cultured.
Walking away, she noticed that her bearing was a lady's as well. Her hampered footsteps looked ridiculous in the pirate's clothing, and she had to think for a moment to remember how to walk properly. She eventually managed a very passable swagger and smiled.
"Think of -" she began to say to herself, then dropped off sharply. Cat sighed and finished packing.
Opening the wardrobe again, she found a favorite black dress and a pair matching shoes and crammed them into her now empty bag. The rest of her fine clothes were pulled out and stuffed into a large trunk, which she forced shut with some difficulty and dragged to the door.
She moved on to the vanity and emptied her jewelry box into the bag. Alexander had always been something of a fool. He doted on her and bought her every jewel he could find. But there was no remorse in her mind as she took the many necklaces and rings. Take what you can…
The final thing Cat did was empty the hidden safe in the bedroom. There were a few bags of gold coins, and some random papers that Cat pushed aside until she found the ones she wanted. The deed to the fastest ship in the Powell fleet, and her and Alexander's marriage certificate. Cramming both into her pockets along with the gold, she slung her bag over her shoulder and left the Powell mansion.
Cat dragged the larger trunk along behind her until she reached a cliff near the edge of the property. She opened it and took a final look at all her lady's dresses; fine satins, silks and linens. Shutting it with a mixed feeling of disgust and regret, she pushed the whole trunk over the cliff. It broke apart on the rocks in the water below, and the sea became a rainbow of fine fabric. Seven years of high fashion, seven years of parties, seven years of planning, seven years of being Catherine Powell, had finally come to an end.
Almost as an afterthought, Cat dug into her pocket and found the marriage certificate. She struck a match against the heel of her boot and held it to the paper's corner. It ignited instantly, fueled by the swift breeze on the cliff's edge. Cat watched it until her name had burned away, then dropped the flaming paper into the ocean to join her clothes.
Catherine Powell, wife of shipping mogul Alexander Powell, was gone, and Captain Cat Flynn, of the newly christened Blue Moon, was back.
Cat hurried down to the docks from the high cliff, and quickly spotted her new ship. It had been the fastest in Alexander's fleet, the Reward. But Alexander hadn't been home for three months, and now it was the Blue Moon. Cat's newly hired crew, most of them old friends, had been surreptitiously renovating the ship since his departure. It had a new paint job, dark, midnight blue and a new name. And of course a new flag, although it wasn't flying yet. Cat walked up the gangplank quickly and found her crew hard at work, readying for the voyage.
"I'm looking for the first mate of this ship!" Cat yelled as she walked up to the helm.
"Aye firs' mate Cullen at your service!" a voice answered from somewhere on the deck.
On hearing their captain's voice for the first time in seven years, the crew had quickly assembled on the deck below the helm. Cat stood above them, and smiled.
"It's good to see you, Captain!" Jim Cullen, Cat's first mate since the first day she sailed, was the first to speak. A chorus of welcomes followed from the rest of the crew, all familiar faces.
"And it's good to be back!" their captain said after a few minutes. "What are we waiting for? First voyage in seven years, let's make it a good one! Raise the main sail, Jones. The rest of you, get back to work. Jim, run up the flag. We're making Tortuga by sunrise tomorrow!"
The Blue Moon turned smoothly out of Port Royal's harbor. As the sails filled with the wind that would carry them to Tortuga, a new flag flew from the top mast. Cat watched the familiar skull and crossbones rise and ripple in the wind. It was good to be home.