I'm gonna apologize right now for this chapter, because I think it's so damn boring. I tried to come up with something interesting to put into it, but everytime I look at it, I just want to get it out of the way. But I needed to bring an end to the 'Baby Crib Arc' and this was it.

I may come back later and revise this chapter, maybe add something if I can think of something later. But right now, I just need it out of the way so I can move on with the story. That being said, you can probably just skip this chapter, it's short and not very interesting.

If you want to know what the crib will look like, just skip to the end.

Building their own crib had turned out to be the perfect idea. They had pulled out some paper and pens from one of the storage rooms and had pulled out a small fold table. Magra drew thin lines on the paper after the parent's directions - and a few shouts from the other bandits on how they thought the crib should look - since it quickly turned out that neither Roger or Rouge was any good with a pen. Roger had attempted to draw what he saw as the ideal crib for Ace, something that looked more like a ship than a baby bed - it was even designed with a sail on the headboard. Rouge had said no immediately. She had grabbed one of the papers and drew her own ideal crib, which had been oval shaped with fabric falling down the sides like a canopy.

The two parents had quickly gotten into an argument over which crib was the better. Some of the arguments being, "it looks like an egg" and "he's not going sailing".

Magra had been sitting there looking between the two, trying his hardest to incorporate what the two were saying all the while still trying to make the design an actual baby bed.

"Come one, Rouge, we have the chance to build Ace's bed! We can have it look like anything we want!" Roger exclaimed, holding his poorly drawn sketch up as if to convince her.

Rouge only shook her head. "No, that is ridiculous, Roger! Where is the functionality?"

"We both know I don't know what that means," Roger said with a grin. Rouge sighed.

Magra sighed too. He put the pen down and put his head in his hands. It was impossible to please both at the same time, seeing as neither could decide on a bed that was appropriate for Ace. In his opinion both beds were just as good as the other since they served their purpose, the only difference being that Roger's design was more decorative while Rouge's was, as she'd said herself, focused more on functionality.

"We're going to be here for a while," Dogra said. "Maybe some of you should go ready some wood."

Magra nodded, "That is a good idea."

Bowdre put his hands on his hips as he waved for the men to follow him. "Come on, let's get the axes. You too, Roger! We can use the man power."

"Hey, is it really okay to give him a weapon?" one of the bandits asked in a hushed whisper, eyeing Roger not so discreetly. "I mean, he is the Pirate King !"

Bowdre rolled his eyes. It was clear that he was no longer as scared of Roger as the rest of the group. "Exactly! If he wanted us dead, I doubt he'd need an axe. Come on, let's get a move on!"

"But I want to stay and do the crib," Roger said pointing at the few sketches they had managed to produce - half of which was made up of poorly drawn designs by either of the two parents.

"Staying here won't do us any good, we're not getting anywhere," Bowdre said. "Chopping down some trees might clear your head. Who knows, maybe you'll come up with something on the way."

The pirate mused it over in his head, before shrugging and getting up to follow the others. He turned to Rouge and offered her a hand, "Come with us, too."

She smiled, but shook her head. She sent a quick glance towards the baby-box where Ace was sleeping. "I don't want to leave Ace alone," she said.

"He's not alone," Roger said. He pointed towards the bandit's with his thumb. "These guys are with him."

"I mean, I don't want to leave Ace alone without either of us here," she said. "I'll go with you some other time."

Roger crouched down in front of Rouge and kissed her. He grinned as he grabbed Rouge's hand and ran a thumb over her knuckles. Rouge hummed as she lifted her head upward to meet him.

It was odd to see Roger be so affectionate. During the week the two had spent up on the mountain, most of the bandits expectations had already been crushed into dust. But that didn't mean it wasn't still an almost unreal sight to behold as Roger smiled at the strawberry blonde as if she was the ground he walked on. As if the man and the king were two different people.

The portrayal of Roger in the news did not fit the man they all saw before them, this loving father and husband that cared the world for his family. This man could not be the same Gold Roger as the Pirate King, Magra thought. It was almost impossible to believe.

He followed the bandits behind the house past the bathhouse. There at the far back there was a door leading into a part of the house Roger hadn't been to before. It wasn't visible from the front and was well hidden in the darker parts of the backyard, as if to keep it a secret.

"This is the storage," Bowdre explained, pulling a key out of his pocket. He stuck it in the lock and after shaking it a few times it clicked open. The door swung up with a grisly sound as the bandit pushed it open.

The inside was full of tools, some of which Roger recognized - like the rope, the many barrels of what he guessed was either alcohol or gunpowder and the gun's stacked against the far wall - and then there were tools he'd never seen before. He figured they weren't for fighting, since he'd seen all kinds of weaponry as a pirate.

"Have you ever handled an axe before?" Folliard asked as he plucked an axe from the long row hanging from the wall. It had a leather strap over the head.

"I know how to use a cutlass, can't be too different," Roger said with a grin and grabbed an axe himself.

He removed the leather coverage and ran a thumb over the sharp edge. It was really blunt, he noticed. His own sword, which he had stacked away in their room, was sharp enough that just brushing against the edge would leave a cut. This axe barely left a scratch.

"What are you doing?! Do you want to lose your fingers?!" Folliard exclaimed.

"It's pretty blunt, isn't it?" Roger said, weighing the axe in his hand. "Is it supposed to be that blunt?"

"We haven't had a chance to sharpen them yet, but they should still do the trick," Follliad said. "You have no fear, do you?"

"Not of something like an axe," Roger smiled, tossing the axe in the air and catching it again.

There were plenty of trees up on the mountain, but they group of bandits - and Roger - still made their war far up the mountain and away from the house. Bowdre had explained that it was because if they cut down the tree's closer to home there might be the risk of some of the ones closest to the house would fall and crash right into it.

It took them awhile, but after some walking, they came to a clearing where a lot of the tree's were already cut down leaving nothing but stumps behind. It was the bandits usual spot for wood.

"Alright, men, pick a tree and start cutting," Bowdre said. "We don't need more than five big strong ones, but chop down an extra two or three small ones for firewood!"

The bandits nodded and got to work.

"Alright, Roger," Bowdre said, turning towards the man. He blinked when he noticed that Roger was no longer standing behind him.

He looked around the clearing, finding Roger holding the axe like one would a sword and swinging it against a tree.

"Oi! That's not how you use an axe!"

Roger stopped in the middle of a swing and turned towards the bandit. "It's not?"

"No, you can't just swing it," Bowdre explained, hurrying over. "You have to cut at the same spot and with care so that the tree doesn't fall the wrong way."

Bowdre sighed. "Here let me," he said, taking the axe from Roger.

He started with showing Roger how to hold the axe only to be cut out by the large tree Roger had been cutting fall down on the ground with a loud thud. There was a large hole in the wood where Roger had punched it. Said man was now grinning beside him, looking proudly at the fallen tree.

"I didn't need axe, after all," he laughed.

Bowdre wasn't sure what to think.

A loud roar echoed through the clearing, freezing all of the bandits in the middle of their work. A large boar was standing by the foliage, an angry gleam in his eyes and his hoof digging into the ground. His eyes were fixated on the group and he did not look pleased.

"Shit!" one of the bandits yelled.

They quickly got into defensive positions, ready to attack the boar, but before they could move Roger had already done so. He ran straight at the large creature who had with a grunt started off straight towards the pirate.

The bandits could just stare in shock as the Pirate King raised his fist - did it just turn black? - and with a swift punch sent the board flying across the forest floor and into a tree. A loud screech could be heard from the animal and for a moment they all believed it to be dead.

Then the boar stood up on unstable legs and shook its head. It quickly collected it's thoughts before turning back towards Roger and took off with amazing speed. The man grinned from ear to ear as he grabbed the animal by the tusks and, like flipping a coin, lifted the boar high up into the air and slammed it back down so hard the ground shook with the impact. Some of the bandits even lost balance and fell with the shockwave.

This time, they were all sure, the boar was dead.

Later, as the dark fell and all the wood was collected and stacked, tied together with rope to be brought back to the house, they had all sat down by a fire and cooked the boar. Now they were all munching away.

"So, what's the grand line like?" a bandits asked as they sat munching on their own selective pieces of meat. They had all snagged at least one piece before Roger started inhaling the rest.

The man blinked, mouth full. He then started talking, waving with his hands in the air wildly and laughing on the occasion as if he was expecting them all to understand what he was saying.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Folliard said, who was sitting closest to Roger.

Roger swallowed. "It's amazing!" was the first thing he said. "It's endless! And it's full of all these interesting people."

He went into a long tale of how he and Whitebeard had once helped out a viking like culture in the New World with a revolution on pure accident, all because they somehow ended up with the island's chief's daughter who after ending up on Roger's ship met Whitebeard and had taken a liking to the man's third commander, Jozu.

In the end, they all decided on an oval design for the grib with a headboard shaped like the back of a traditional pirate ship. The white insignia of Roger's pirate crew had been painted on the inside of the food of the crib, so that whenever Ace woke up or fell asleep he would see it watching over him, Roger had said.

Rouge had complied, as long as the crib was painted white instead of the red Roger had suggested. She had rolled her eyes at the color, since pretty much everything the man had owned used to be red - the few times she'd been onboard his pirate ships, his quarters had always been painted in different shades of red.