Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men or anything associated with them…

A/N: So sorry for the delay with this chapter. I was going to make it longer, but I'm running behind and I wanted to get this up before I left. I'm going to Europe for 10 days for business, so I won't be able to get chapter 12 up until I get back. Sorry again.

Chapter 11: Íle de LeBeau

Remy walked out onto the main deck of the Anna Marie. The midday's sun was already bright overhead and promised to bring forth a beautiful day. He gracefully climbed the ladder to the quarterdeck where Piotr was standing at the helm and greeted the Russian Captain.

"Bonjour, mon ami! Do y' need a break?"

Piotr sent Remy a brilliant grin. "No, comrade, ze Anna Marie is a magnificent ship and I rather enjoy ze opportunity to command such a vessel." He placed a large hand over Remy's shoulder and continued. "Are you alright? Did you sleep well?"

"Oui, Remy's jus' fine." He gave Piotr an enigmatic smile. "Mais, didn't get much sleep. Been doin' dat too much lately, non?"

"Da, I must admit you've had some very unfortunate luck, comrade." Piotr said. "How's your head?"

Remy grimaced recalling the events of the previous day. "Head's fine, mon ami, mais Remy needs t' stay away from de crazy femmes!"

Piotr laughed deeply and patted Remy on the back. "True, very true, but maybe zey are only trying to knock some sense into zat Cajun skull of yours." He looked down to the main deck as Rogue emerged from her cabin. "I understand zat Captain Darkholme was injured during ze attack. How did she fare ze night?"

"Chere was shot, but…de last thing Remy remembers is seein' riggin' and de mizzenmast fallin', mais she'll be fine." Remy's look turned pensive when he caught sight of Rogue moving towards the bow of the ship and his voice took on an unusual severity. "Piotr, mon ami, dat woman be de world's best thief."

Piotr turned, looking slightly perplexed. "I do not believe I follow, comrade."

Remy was silent for a few moments, his eyes locked on Rogue as she helped Kitty inspect the damage from the previous battle. Finally, he focused his gaze back on Piotr and sighed. "She stole Remy's heart."

Piotr raised his brows. "Captain LeBeau confessing his love for a woman…Now zere's something I never believed possible!" He said with mirth in his voice.

Remy narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"Now, my friend, do not cast such a look my way," Piotr warned jokingly. "Did you declare your feelings already or are you being your usual stubborn self?"

"Oui…she knows."

"And?" Piotr asked.

Remy was silent and his brows lowered. "Time will tell, non?"


Rogue was sore and her side was throbbing from her injury, but Remy had done a fine job repairing the damage. Funny that the pain didn't seem to be a problem last night, she thought. But then who could focus on anything when that man was kissing them, touching them…loving them. He had made her feel extraordinary.

Kitty was just finishing her inspection of the rigging when she noticed the glazed look in Rogue's eyes. "Captain? Are you feeling alright? Maybe you shouldn't be doing so much. Why don't you go back to your cabin and rest a while longer."

Rogue was snapped from her thoughts. "No, Ah don't need more rest, Kitty." Rogue placed a hand on her side. "The wound's just actin' up this mornin'."

Kitty giggled under her breath.

Rogue cocked a questioning brow. "What? Is mah pain amusin'?"

"No…" Kitty straightened and shook her head. "It's just that I somehow doubt that you got any sleep last night. I mean, like, do you actually expect me to believe that you had Remy in your room all night long and you only slept! Did you not see how he answered the door this morning? Phew!"

"Kitty!"

"Well...just look at him up there and tell me nothing happened!" Kitty challenged.

Rogue turned and cast her eyes up to the quarterdeck. Remy looked marvelous to her. His long auburn hair was free and blowing about his handsome face. He wore the same black breeches and high black boots from the day before and nothing more. He appeared to be in a serious discussion with Captain Rasputin, looking out over the waters. The sun glistened off of his tanned skin and she became mesmerized by the sight of his muscles that rippled beneath that skin, of the narrowness of his waist and the sinew of his arms. She remembered how she had carefully and thoroughly explored all those lovely features well last night. God, but he was a beautiful man and for this moment, all hers.

Kitty stood at Rogue's side and saw the flash of a thousand thoughts flicker over her face. It was so quick to respond to her thoughts, and Kitty knew her well enough to understand most of her expressions. When the color flushed from Rogue's cheeks, Kitty smiled widely. "Aha! I knew it! And it's about time, so what happens next?"

Rogue rolled her eyes. "We have a task ta finish. Tell Kurt and the others ta meet me in the mess hall in an hour."

"That's not what I meant and you well know it…but aye, aye captain!" Kitty stiffly raised her hand to her forehead in a mock salute and ran off to the lower deck.


Remy was looking out over the waters when he saw the outline of the Devil's Lust on the horizon off the stern. "Mon ami, who's sailing de Devil's Lust?"

Piotr handed Remy his spyglass so the Captain could inspect his ship from afar, and then frowned. "I am sorry, comrade. We had no choice but to leave your ship with John. Rogue, however, did leave Wanda to keep our fine Australian in line."

Remy lowered the spyglass but continued to glare toward his vessel. "Dieu! If John even scratches dat ship, Remy'll kill him!"

Taking he scope from Remy, Piotr looked over the other ship. "Hmmm…I don't see John, but Wanda's at ze helm. What do you imagine he could be doing?"

"Knowin' John," Remy clenched his fists, "he's makin' mischief and mayhem!"


Aboard the Devil's Lust

Wanda stood proudly at the helm of the Devil's Lust. It wasn't often she was given the opportunity to sail such a large, powerful galleon, and she intended to take full advantage of the time given to her. She looked out over the main deck and surveyed the crew. Most of the men were making themselves busy securing the shrouds and repairing some of the damage caused by the storm. Fortunately, they had managed to successfully avoid the confrontation between the Dark Ruby and the Anna Marie. Wanda only hoped that the loss of life was not too great and that her friends had emerged unscathed.

Just under the foremast, Wanda spotted Christian. He was a good child and seemed to be slightly lost without Captain LeBeau onboard. At the moment, the boy was sitting on the deck holding a small knife and a piece of half-carved wood. Christian would often take to carving small soldiers or pirates out of wood when he was bored or troubled, and this appeared to be one of those times. John had explained to her before that the boy was making a collection of figures so that he could always remember the people he met in his young travels. He had started working on his new creation during the evening's storm and she was told that it greatly resembled herself.

Wanda's smile changed into a frown when she caught sight of John. He had been enjoying himself this morning, allowing the other men to do his duties and leaving Wanda in complete charge of the vessel. He was wearing a short-sleeved, open-necked canvas shirt and dark brown breeches, and was stretched out lazily on coiled ropes on the deck holding a half-empty bottle of rum. The gentle tropical breezes and sunlight played on his skin and in his hair.

Wanda motioned to the ship's navigator to take her place at the helm for a moment, while she confronted her beau. As she descended the ladder to the main deck and approached John, she could tell that he was slightly drunk and…singing? The lyrics became clearer as she moved closer.

Sittin' in a bar Down Under

I was havin' a nice, cold brew

When a devil-eyed gent sat down

Closely followed by his crew.

One, two, no three lagers down,

The man turned and gave me a stare.

With a smirk on his face and a gleam in his eye

He said, "Come dance with me, chere!"

He was a dainty Pirate Captain.

A tall, gaunt, and girly ol' brat.

A dainty Pirate Captain

Sometimes called Swamp Rat!

He put an arm 'round my waist

And led me to the dance floor.

'Round, round and round we went

'Til he twirled me out the swing door.

Makin' my way back to the bar

I saw him talkin' to a prostitute.

They climbed the stairs to her room

Where she performed the 'flag salute'.

He was a dainty Pirate Captain.

A tall, gaunt, and girly ol' brat.

A dainty Pirate Captain

Sometimes called Swamp Rat!

An hour later, he reappeared

With his clothin' all askew.

Tippin' his hat and bowin' his head

He left sayin' only' "Adieu!"

Suddenly a shadow fell over him, blocking out the sun. "Remy would kill you if he ever heard you sing that song, love. You should be more careful."

John squinted up at Wanda. "Crickey…I was just havin' some fun. 'Sides, the captain's not onboard now is he." John laid his head back and smiled. Wanda placed her hands on her hips and glared down at the Aussie.

"John, get up! Now!" Wanda ordered, yelling loudly.

John groaned as his head began to reverberate with her words, and a fierce pounding rocked his brain as if God himself was stomping about in his head. Pressing his fingers to the throb in his temples, he stood slowly and narrowed his eyes at Wanda. "Bloody hell, love, why did you have to yell?"

Humor danced in her eyes and she raised an amused brow. "Did I yell? I am so sorry, Johnny-boy. You know you really shouldn't drink at this hour of the day. Can I get you something for the pain?"

"An executioner and his ax would do nicely."

She ignored his words and headed back to the quarterdeck to relieve the navigator. Throwing one last look over her shoulder as she left, she said, "Make yourself useful, love, and help the men hoist the foresail. We need to catch the Anna Marie."


Aboard the Anna Marie…

Kurt was high on the mainmast repairing some of the worn rigging that had given out over the past few days, while Piotr sent a message to the Devil's Lust using a small reflective mirror. As Kurt was beginning his descent, he lost his footing on the wet ropes.

Remy and Piotr turned at the sharp scream to see Kurt high above the deck, hanging by his foot. Kitty was running about below him like a mad woman, and Rogue made her way to the mast.

Without thought, Remy leapt over the railing and rushed to the mast where Kurt dangled, and grabbed Rogue by the arm stopping her in her tracks. "Non, mon chere! Y' can't go up dere. Y're in no shape t' be climbin'. Let Remy help."

Kurt swung in a macabre arc upside down about fifty feet above the deck. One man tried to stop Remy by grabbing his wrist. "The rope's giving way. It'll snap before you get halfway up." Remy took a brief moment to survey the scene, then grabbed a rope off the deck and coiled it quickly about his body. He climbed up the mizzen stay to the mainmast, and then secured himself to the crossbeam as he tried to reach Kurt.

Her throat dry, Rogue didn't know what to do. She had never felt so helpless in all her life. Damn Belladonna! This was her ship and that was her brother clinging to the rigging for dear life. She should be the one risking her own life to save him, not Remy.

Remy's perch on the cross-section looked about as tenuous as Kurt's situation. Still, he appeared calm. "Kurt," Remy said, his loud voice somehow soothing as he unwound the rope from around his shoulders and lowered a piece to Kurt. "Take a deep breath and reach for de rope."

"I can't!" Kurt shouted, his voice filled with real terror.

"Oui, y' can," Remy assured him, making Kitty wonder how he could remain so serene while death faced him and his friend. "'Sides, if y' don't take de rope, Remy'll run off with your sœur."

"Nein!" Kurt snarled an instant before he grabbed the rope.

Remy had just pulled upright when the rigging broke from under Kurt. The heavy, tangled ropes and sail fell with a rush to the deck. Kurt screamed in agony as the rope against his ankle was pulled taut. For a moment, Rogue feared both he and Remy would be pulled to their deaths.

The sail hit the deck with such a force that it jarred the boards under their feet and sent a rush of air over them. Rogue and Kitty stared at it, realizing that if it had broken even a second before it would have killed Kurt.

Kurt was screaming and twisting as he sought to maintain his grip.

"Cut de rope from his leg!" Remy yelled down to Rogue.

She rushed forward to oblige. As soon as the rope was cut free, Remy stumbled back into thin air. "Remy!" Rogue screamed from her place on the deck at the same time Kitty turned her eyes away.

Remy had lost his footing, but somehow he managed to catch himself against the mast and not lose his grip on Kurt. Time seemed suspended as Kurt hung far above the deck, whimpering in pain while Remy attempted to right himself and find solid footing again. Rogue needed to help. She couldn't stand by and watch any longer.

"Stay away, chere," Remy warned.

And then, somehow, Remy found his footing and slowly he began to lower Kurt toward the deck. Kitty ran to Kurt, throwing her arms around him and helping him to a seat. Rogue watched as Remy dropped the rope, then made his way down the rigging to the safety of the deck.

Rogue turned to her crew, and this time they saw the raw, untamed anger that creased her brow. "What the hell were ya doin'?" she asked Kurt.

"The rigging broke under me, mein schwester."

A sailor of about thirty came forward with a piece of the rope from the fallen rigging. "It was just weather damage, Captain," he said, holding it up for Rogue to see. She grabbed the piece and studied it. When she looked up at her crew, Remy realized this was the fearsome face of the Rogue that made grown men shake in terror. "How many times do Ah have ta tell you ta double-check the riggin'?"

The pirates all looked sheepish.

Shaking her head, Rogue dropped the rigging. "Someone clean up this mess." She looked over to Kurt and Remy. "And y'all, take the rest of the day off and calm your nerves."

Rogue grabbed Remy around the arm as he passed. "You," she said, enunciating every word slowly and with emphasis, "are insane!" She paused to look around the deck before continuing, an action that did not go unnoticed by Remy. "I thought you were dead," she said, taking the three steps that separated them.

Remy turned to look at her. "Would y' have cared, mon chere?"

His question took Rogue by surprise. Why would he doubt her sincerity? "Of course Ah would care, sugah." She assured him, placing a gentle hand over her shoulder.

Remy caught her hand and turned it so that he could place a kiss on her palm, then turned around leaving her standing in the middle of the deck. Her words rang in his ears, and in that instant something vile and terrifying whipped through him. It was stupid, really, just a vague thought no doubt dredged up from his past. Yet it was there, tormenting him.

What would it be like to actually have a strong woman like Rogue care for him? To know that if he'd tumbled to the ground, she would have mourned for him?

Rogue doesn't care if you die this instant, his mind whispered. Why should she? Tante Mattie would care, he argued back. As would Christian.

Fear and disgust were emotions he could achieve in men. As for women, he could easily stir lust in their bodies, but never love. No one had ever given him that, and he doubted anyone could. Even after confessing his own feelings toward her, Rogue had remained silent.

"You're worthless, boy," his master's voice whispered in bitter, drunken anger. "Absolutely worthless. I should have left you on the streets where I found you. But I was stupid. God, what a fool I was. Your own mother cast you out and couldn't love you. Why I thought I could be different eludes me. If not for you, I'd have a decent life. You ruined me and you will always ruin everything you touch, freak! It's the curse of your blood." Remy closed his eyes against the truth. It was his curse and it tainted everything about him.


Down in the galley…

Kurt, Remy, Piotr, and Rogue met down in the galley to examine the crystal skull one more time. The skull was such an impressive piece of work in its own right. Remy could hardly take his eyes away from the rarity.

"Do ya still have the Conoway pendant, sugah?" Rogue asked.

"Oui." Remy produced the pendant and placed it gently on the table near the skull. The obsidian piece appeared to be the appropriate size needed to fit into the slot, but there was only one way to know for sure.

Kurt lifted the pendant and slowly began to slide it into place. It was a perfect fit. The captains looked at each other, waiting for something to happen, for the secret to be revealed, but nothing happened.

"What now?" Piotr asked.

"It reacted ta light last time. Remy, light one of these candles." Rogue took a candle in her hand and held it out to Remy. He lit the wick with a match and watched as she moved the candle closer to the skull.

Once again, as the light inched closer, the skull began to take on a soft glow that seemed to grow more intense with each passing second. It absorbed the light, concentrating it in its center until finally releasing beams of color-tinted light across the room. When the wall was illuminated with the light, a distinct shadow was visible created by the pendant within the skull. The soft white lines that were inscribed into the pendant could clearly be seen, but there were also several more. Invisible to the naked eye, there were additional markings that were enhanced by the light. These new markings combined with those from before and magnified on the wall depicted a map. The diamond embedded in the pendant indicated the location of the next artifact they sought deep in the heart of Orcadia.

"Orcadia…That's quite a sail from here, ja?" Kurt asked, looking over to his sister.

"Yeah, we're at least a week out from the island. We'll need ta stop somewhere along the way ta take on more supplies and make additional repairs." Rogue confirmed.

Remy unrolled a map that Piotr had brought. "Could y' show Remy where we are now, mon ami?"

Piotr pointed to a spot in the middle of the Devil's Triangle and cast Remy a questioning look. "What are you thinking, comrade?"

Remy's lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Remy knows jus' de place, chere. Íle de LeBeau is only a day out." Remy pointed to a point on the map.

"There's nothing there, mein freund." Kurt said.

"Oui...Y' won't find de island on any map. It belonged t' Remy's pére."

"Wonderful! I've always wanted to meet ze infamous Tante Mattie. I'll set ze course…if Rogue agrees." Piotr waited for her response.

Rogue met Piotr's gaze and pursed her lips as if in serious debate. "Sure, sugah, we can stop by LeBeau's island." She said at last. "Go set our course."


The Anna Marie sailed through Íle de LeBeau sound into a lagoon enclosed by a natural seawall consisting of layers of oyster-shell deposits. Porpoises and sharks were chasing fish into the shoals, where hundreds of pelicans, cormorants, and gulls waited to engage in a feeding frenzy. The poor fish hadn't a chance, attacked from both the air and the sea. On shore, a regal heron lifted its huge wings to join the melee.

From her vantage point on the ship, all Rogue could see of the large island were mangrove thickets and pine trees. The lagoon opened up into a larger lake and she effortlessly maneuvered the ship toward a stone jetty.

"Welcome t' Remy's home, chere." He said. "Would y' like moi t' escort y' ashore."

As he ushered her down the gangplank and onto the stone jetty, Rogue was surprised to see a village nestled along the shore of the lake. Small cottages constructed of latticed pine saplings chinked with clay plaster and thatched with marsh grass were clustered together in disorderly rows. Fishing skiffs lined the shore and racks of drying fish baked in the afternoon sun. The heat was oppressive. Rogue followed Remy down a shell-lined street.

"Which house is yours?" Rogue asked, eyeing the huts with misgiving.

They walked through groups of excited women hurrying to the jetty to greet their men, who were disembarking from the Devil's Lust. They were a rough looking lot. Their finery had probably been taken from plundered ships.

"Pére built his house farther inland, 'way from de carousin' dat usually goes on in de village."

"And ya don't carouse?" Rouge taunted.

"Hmph…Oui, chere…sometimes, but dere are times Remy prefers privacy and quiet." He said, taking her elbow.

They pushed their way through a milling crowd of men and women shouting out greetings to Remy, and then took a path through the forest, leaving the village behind. The path cut a swath through thick underbrush and skirted numerous shallow basins lined with crushed shells. Rogue was curious about their function and asked Remy about them.

"They're used t' collect rain water," he explained. "Compliments of de Calusa Indians who inhabited dese islands before de Spanish killed most of 'em. Only a few are left now. De island is dotted with Indian burial mounds and remains of temples, dwellin's, and storage buildin's of tribes now extinct. Remnants of Indian settlements stretch more dan three-quarters of a mile along de north shore of de island and one-quarter of a mile wide."

Rogue was intrigued. "Burial mounds? Have ya dug into any of 'em?"

"Non, and Remy doesn't intend t'. He has no desire t' disturb de dead. Let someone else discover de secrets."

John and the others had stayed behind at the village to make some arrangements for repairs and supplies. They would join them at the house later in the evening. Rogue's skin was slick with perspiration by the time they reached Remy's house. But as she stared at Remy's home she decided it was well worth the walk. It was a palace compared to the small huts on the beach. The dwelling was built on a grand scale, constructed of sawed boards instead of rough pine saplings. It sat on a slight rise beneath an umbrella of palm trees that provided abundant shade. A wrap-around porch allowed the breeze to waft through the open windows. Another building, probably a kitchen, was connected to the house by a covered dog run.

Remy held the door open and Rogue stepped inside. She came to an abrupt halt as her startled gaze encountered a room as luxuriously furnished as some of the grandest homes in New Orleans. Works of art hung on the plastered walls above richly polished furniture and thick, woven carpets. Dainty curtains billowed gently in the tropical breeze, and delicious cooking smells drifted to her on the humid air.

"Do y' like it?" Remy asked. Somehow it mattered that Rogue should like his home.

"It's…Ah can't believe such a home exists on this remote island."

"Remy likes t' be comfortable," he said as he watched Rogue pick up a gold-encrusted vase and examine it.

They had just started down a long hallway when they were met by a handsome black woman. She had expressive brown eyes and a generous mouth. She grinned from ear to ear when she saw Remy.

"We weren't expectin' y', chile. How long will y' be stayin' dis time?" Her dark-eyed gaze, bright with curiosity, settled on Rogue.

"Jus' a few days, Tante. De ship needs some repairs and Remy long overdue for a rest, non?" Remy said, placing a proprietary arm around Rogue's waist. "Let me introduce y' t' Rogue. She's de captain of de Anna Marie."

A sparkle lit Tante Mattie's eyes. "Ahhh…Pleased t' meet y', darlin'. Remy's been treatin' y' good, hasn't he? 'Cause if he hasn't, ol' Tante will get her special spoon. Now tell me true, child."

Remy actually looked a bit sheepish.

Rogue couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, Remy's been a perfect gentleman."

"I knew it! Raised dat boy right, I did! Now lets get y' to a nice room, darlin'. I know jus' de one, too." Tante Mattie took Rogue by the arm and pulled her down the hall and away from Remy.

Remy watched as Rogue was led away and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe comin' t' de island wasn't such a good idea, he thought.


A/N: Like I said above, I really wanted to put more into this chapter. The next chapter will be almost entirely on Remy's island, and have more Romy goodness. Thanks to all those of you who reviewed the last chapter!That was the most reviews for one chapter yet!