Author's Note: As this takes years before the main storyline, Vane is a bit out of character. People do change with age, and I wasn't completely sure how'd he'd act in this situation and time frame. Also, this is just how he met Marie, who is a very strange girl indeed.

1708:

Charles Vane, a younger Charles Vane, lay on one of the beaches of New Providence island, in and out of consciousness.

Vane groaned, head pounding, and cursed the glaring light piercing through his eyelids. He shfited slightly, attempting to make himself more comfortable on his bed and stopped...This wasn't his bed...Something wasn't right. Where the hell was he? A shadow passed over him, thank fully blocking out the damn light. If it stayed there, he could probably sleep again..

"Mister? Are you alright...?" The soft concerned voice broke through his sleepy thoughts, and he opened his eyes to see a young girl crouched above him. She was framed by the sun, making it a bit hard to look at her. Wide, large golden-brown eyes stared down at him with a child's curiousity. Her reddish-brown curls were tumbling free from someone's attempt at pig tails, and the end of one was almost brushing his cheek. She had the promise of being a beauty when she grew older, but all that paled in the fact that she was disturbing his rest.

"What the hell do you want?" He growled up at her. She blinked in surprise, then narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, I was concerned with your well being, to be honest, as I never found a man passed out on a beach before. I thought you were dead until you groaned. Were you jumped by someone?" He closed his eyes, willing the child to disappear.

"No..." He sat up, and she barely scrambled out of the way. He looked around, and yes, he was on a beach. Fuck. "I was drunk.." Why was he explaining himself to a child? He looked at her in contempt, hoping it'd make her leave.

She stared up at him, head tilted to the side. Her light blue down was torn around the hem, and covered in what appeared to be fresh stains. Whoever she belonged to won't be pleased...

"Are you a pirate?" Her question caught him off gaurd, and he could only stare dumbly at her for a second. Finally, he nodded slightly. "Ooh! Are you a captain?"

"..Not yet, but I will be."

"When you're a captain, can I join your crew?" She stared up at him with such eager innocence, he almost smiled. Instead he raised an eyebrow, and snorted, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, go for it. We'll see how it works out." She flashed him a radient smile of pure childish pleasure, and he sobered, feeling a pang from a memory he just couldn't bury. Then the smile faded as quickly as it came, the girl suddenly turning serious.

"You're not lying, right? Or suddenly going to laugh and tell me a girl can't be anything more than someone's wife?" She furrowed her brow at the thought. He wondered who had told her that, and leaned back on his hands.

"No." He looked up at the clear sky, eyeing a sea gull with unhidden dislike. She followed his gaze for a moment.

"Do you hate birds?"

"I hate sea gulls."

"But they let you know when you're approaching land."

"Still hate them."

"How odd...I envy them. They're so free."

"...How old are you?" The question was sudden, and he wasn't quite sure where it came from, but he was curious.

"That's an even odder thing. Never ask a lady her age!" She exclaimed with mock shock. "But if must know, I'm 12." She'll be some nobleman's wife some day, he could tell that right off.

"...12?" He looked at her for a moment; short, much too short to be 12, even for a girl, all childish roundness, yet she was skinny. "You look 9..." She flared up, eyes flashing dangerously as she pulled herself up to her full sitting height.

"I am 12. I'm just short is all!" He didn't bother to answer, and stood up, stretching. She stood as well, dusting off her dress, lips pursed in a fine line.

Vane turned and started to walk away, dismissing her from his mind.

"Ah! Where are you going?"

"Back to my ship."

"Can I come?" She trotted on after him.

"No."

"Awww...Well, can I at least know your name?"

"Charles."

"Charles what? No Last Name?" Her voice was slightly sarcastic, and he felt his temper turning slightly, but he kept it in check.

"Vane. Charles Vane.."

"Ah..! Well." She slipped infront of him, forcing him to stop for a moment. "I'm Marie Lawrence. A pleasure to meet you." She curstied, and he stepped around her, continuing on his way.

Marie stared after the man for a moment, then turned, heading back for Nassau. A grin spread across her face as she ran along, deciding to tell her brother all about her encounter. Their father forbade them to go near any 'dangerous' men, but she didn't care. It was exciting, more exciting than most of this journey.

"I'm going to be a pirate!" She whispered to herself, and her grin widened.

For the four days she revisited that beach everyday, and was rewarded when she ran into Vane again on her fourth day.

"Charles!" Vane groaned at the sound of his voice being called by the child's voice, and turned to see Marie racing towards him. She skidded to a stop next to him, and fell to her knees. Today her hair was loose, falling to her waist, and she was dressed in pink. It didn't suit her at all. She was golden from the constant sunshine to boot.

"...What the fuck are you doing here?" She stared up at him amount, as if shocked he'd ask her such an outrageous question.

"...How dare you use such foul language!" She hissed at him, and he sighed. "Also, I can go where I please. The beach isn't just yours." He narrowed his eyes at her, and looked ahead at the ocean. "I was hoping to find you though. I was wondering if you can tell me what its like being a pirate."

"...No."

"What? Why?"

"Why are you so interested?" He snapped at her. She glared up at him.

"Because I am! I've grown up hearing nothing but ill about pirates, and I want to know if thats true. Plus, if I ever reach my dream of being one someday, I should have some prior knowledge.." He glared down at her, lip curling up slightly, then sighed. Might as well humor her. Maybe some horror stories would make her despise the idea of becoming a pirate.

How very wrong he was.

"That is...Wow." She stared up at him, wide eyed. "Really? That sounds so...dangerous!"

"It is. S-"

"But so thrilling at the same time! Terrifying too. Do you guys plan any strategies or anything?" Vane raised an eyebrow, and eyed the girl next to him feeling a little respect for the girl. He told her gruesome stories, and she wanted to know if they planned their attacks. Didn't even bat an eyelash...Maybe she'll reach that 'dream' of hers.

For the next week or so, Marie met Vane on that beach almost everyday to pester him with more with questions about pirates. He could have stopped coming, but he didn't, and was there, expect one time, at the same time every day.

On the sixth day, Vane walked to the spot, taking a swig from his bottle of rum. He slowed to a stop, noting that Marie had beaten him today. He was about to call out to her, but stopped himself, realizing something was wrong. He resumed walking, face hardening slightly and becoming devoid of emotion.

Her back was too him, sitting and hunched over slightly., He stopped a couple feet behind him. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, and locks of her thick long hair lay around her, the remainder stopping just below her ears.

"Marie." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Meant to get her attention. She leapt to her feet, spinning around, and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. In the process, she dropped the knife she was holding, and just burried her face in the chest/stomach area of the shocked pirate. It was then he realized she was crying.

Something took over then, and he wrapped his arms around the girl, pursing his lips in a hard line. What the fuck had happened?

"What the hell is wrong?" He growled down at her. She sniffled and didn't look up at him.

"Why was I born a girl?" She whispered. He narrowed his eyes to slits, but kept silent for a moment. "We're..returning to England..and Father has picked out my future husband and everything...And he..teaches things to my brother...like fighting...but they all..." Vane felt his temper stirring again, at this girl and at her family. The girl was barely 12 years old, and her father was already set to ship her off? She wasn't even physically 12, in his personal opinion. He let her keep talking.

"Mother isn't a help...I wouldn't mind it all..so much if they at least...treated me like I had a brain!...Not just some girl to be sold to the highest bidder!" She wailed the last bit, and he resisted the urge to clamp a hand over her mouth. Damn her to hell. "I'm not suited for this life...I know I'm still a child bu...but! I wish I was a boy...or at least born to a different family...I know...other kids have it harder than me, espeically poorer kids...but...I envy them..." She sniffled, and all his anger redirected at her. She envies them? "They...they lead hard lives, I know...however, they have a freer life...a..."

Vane growled, letting her go as he grabbed her wrists and knocked her to the ground, following her and pinning the girl. She fell silent, staring up at him, wide-eyed; she shut up, good.

"Listen to me, girl." He whispered to her, eyes glittering dangerously. "Don't say such bullshit again. What the fuck do you know? You have a lot more than those kids have, and they probably hate you're rich ass for it. You have food, every night, a family that cares about you, which is more than some of them can say right there. You never have to worry about clothes, where you'll live, anything. Yet you envy them because your family wants you to marry well? Fuck you!" He took a deep breath, and shook his head slightly.

Marie just stared up at him, shocked to the core of her being. He glanced back down at her, and loosened his grip on her wrists, pushing away from her.

"Before you start talking fucking bull, think about what the hell you're saying. Fight marriage all you want, fight the life they have laid out infront of you. But never talk like that again." He stood up, and held a hand out to her. She hesitantly took it, and he didn't blame her. He'd scared her and he knew it.

"Maaarie!" Someone was looking for her.

"Go." Vane ordered, and picked up her knife, handing it to her. She took it, and wiped at her eyes with one hand before giving him a slight smile.

"..Thank you.." He blinked, then watched her turn and race away. He stood after a moment, then picked up his rum bottle, eyeing the sand in it, and shrugged. Oh well.

It would be years before he'd see her again.