Thomas might have been quite pleased with himself, if he only knew how successful his early morning venture in subterfuge had truly been. Antonia moaned softly from beneath the snarl of blankets, arms and legs akimbo. Her thoughts were still thick and heavy with the lack of anything like a proper night's sleep, though her body knew well enough the sun had just risen beyond the windows of Thomas' cabin. One lithe, caramel-skinned arm snaked from beneath the blankets, her fingers searching for Thomas' warmth to wrap herself into, to anchor herself once more into the delicious sleep she craved...

Her heavy eyelids still shut against the coming daylight, the rogue pouted prettily when she realized she was all alone, groaning with disappointment when her fingers reached the mattress edge. A little breath of a laugh escaped her nose. No, of course Captain Lightfoot did not get to sleep in until he pleased, did he? Most certainly not on the day his beloved [i]Skate[/i] was to sail. 

And as drowsy as she was, Antonia knew she should not either, no matter how she longed to stay right there in her lovely man's bed. Because in the wee hours of the morning, Antonia ventured from the [i]Skate[/i] herself, quietly slipping from Thomas' bed and, wrapped in the night's deepest shadows, made her way to the Parakeet. 

What the rogue had to tell her oldest, dearest friends was a grim truth, and one she couched with not a single word of subtlety or false comfort. And Madeleine was every bit as furious as the rogue knew she would be, John just as inconsolable, and there was not a damned thing Antonia could do to make any of this better for them. No, there was not a single word she could say to these good people, who must choose to lose their only son for heaven alone knew how long on the high seas, or risk losing him to an obsessive madman. And she did not dare ply them with worthless platitudes and hollow reassurances about letting their boy, a mere child of eight years, sail with the [i]Skate[/i]. Either choice was fraught with its own perils and pain, but only one promised the Spider’s protection, all the days he would be absent from them.

Madeleine's curses surprised the rogue not at all, nor did the hurt-filled vow that Antonia would [i]never[/i] be forgiven. All the rogue could do was agree with every last furious accusation, knowing very well she deserved each and every profanity that Luc's [i]Maman[/i] hurled at her. But it was genuine fear that made her humble, and Antonia begged. She begged for Madeleine's understanding. She pleaded with John to see reason, and to please [i]please[/i] know Antonia would never suggest such a thing, were there any other choice... 

Antonia left the Parakeet deeply troubled. She explained to both her dear friends that the [i]Skate[/i] would sail at high tide in the morn, and that no matter their decision, she would understand and love them still. She [i]had[/i] to. They were Luc's true parents, after all. What else could she do? Was there anything else left to say? No, she had told them all, and no matter her fears Antonia could not simply [i]take[/i] their son from them! And so she could only pray that somewhere, somehow, in all these years, she had earned a small, precious measure of trust to cover all this hurt she brought them. 

Defeated, deflated and uncertain, Antonia returned to the [i]Skate[/i] knowing that only the dawn’s light – still a few hours away – would reveal her friends’ final decision. And it was in this state that Antonia returned to the [i]Dusk Skate[/i], and her sweet Silverfish’s bed.

Thomas never woke when she entered his cabin again and undressed, or at least not that she could tell. But when she crawled back into his bed, her lovely man pulled her close, in a gesture as seemingly natural as breathing, even in his dreams. Warmth for cold fear, comfort for anguish, his sure presence soothed her like little else could, every inch the distilled essence of those warm, calming waters they swam this past night. Though the anxious distress did not wholly leave her heart, her worries quieted in his arms just long enough for sleep to find her once again.

But it was those same worries woken with her, which finally forced open her eyes. She expected to see not much more than the grey outlines of Thomas’ crumpled bed linens and, beyond that, his Spartan cabin furniture. Antonia was unprepared for the delicately luminous sight that greeted her on the pillow.

Antonia sat up instantly, still mostly tangled in blankets, that wild mane of coiled ebony hair cascading in untamed tendrils past her shoulders to spill down her back. Her bare legs dangled over the edge of Thomas’ bed as she gazed at the Amazon lily held so delicately in her fingers, like a precious jewel. Her vision swam for the tears that spilled suddenly down her cheeks, but it was the wide, loving smile on her lips and the soft, slightly incredulous laughter that promised these were simply tears of joy.

[center]**********[/center]

It was the Antonia that all the [i]Skate[/i]’s crew knew best who emerged from the stairs of the aftcastle – well, in the main at least. That same oversized linen shirt, those well-worn brown pants belted at her waist and tucked into the tops of her hobnailed boots, her thick black hair pulled from her face and plaited into a wide rope of a braid down her back. But it was that alabaster lily perched over her ear, its stem woven securely into the plait, that fairly glowed with an otherworldly light against the onyx of the rogue’s hair and the caramel hue of her skin. 

At her Captain’s call and his First Mate’s command, Antonia leapt with a preternatural grace to the rigging, a Spider once more in her web as she began to climb nimbly for the very best vantage point. She could only pray that Madeleine and John might yet see fit to bring Luc to the [i]Skate[/i], and she wished to keep a lookout for them until the moment the ship sailed. But as she climbed, Antonia could not resist a glance toward Thomas as he strode the deck, dangling easily by a single hand as she sought that copper gaze, to show him how she treasured his gift. Antonia grinned as she blew her Captain Silverfish a sweet kiss, giving him a playful wink before turning again to scale the mast.