A/N: Well, here we have Chapter 3. I honestly don't know much about boats/ships etc. Everything I know about them I learned from Pirates of the Carribean and One Piece, so if I've made any mistakes in ship-anatomy or navigation or anything like that, let me know so I can fix it.

We also see a bit of Morgana's serious side in this. I don't want her to become too serious, but obviously, she's not happy-go-lucky all the time. It's kinda hard to find the right balance... Morgana's a very passionate person; when she likes something, she really loves it, when she does something, she throws her whole being into it, when she doesn't like something, she hates it. But at the same time, I want her to keep a sense of... not quite innocence, but perhaps childishness about her, and I can't do that if she's angsting all over the place. Basically, I'd really like some feedback on Morgana's character development. Is it going too fast? Slow? Too extreme? Not extreme enough? Is it going in completely the wrong direction?

Whatever they are, I'd love to hear your thoughts. But now, on with the story~!

In the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight, there bobbed a small sailing boat. It was barely big enough to house the two people sailing it, but they managed. The sun was beating down mercilessly, and on the roof of the cabin a teen girl, now famous around the globe for being the heir to the Pirate King's legacy, was sunbathing. She stretched out in naught but a black bikini and smiled the smug smile of the victorious.

A moment later, a blonde head popped up over the edge of the roof, and a moment later, a young man clambered up to join the young woman. "So, Morgana…?" He asked hesitantly, folding his legs beneath him and sitting cross-legged on the wooden boards. Morgana hummed agreeably to show he had her attention, but didn't open her eyes. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Grand Line, o'course." Morgana answered, sounding vaguely sleepy and extremely content.

"Oh, right…" Merry nodded slowly, his brain slowly processing the information. "Wait, WHAT?" He yelped, suddenly catching up with the short conversation and recognising what had been said by his infamous captain.

One dusky pink eye slid open a little, and Morgana squinted up at him in confusion. "We're going to the Grand Line." She said, a little slower than was strictly necessary. "You know, infamous sea of deadly terrors, the most dangerous sea in the world… the domain of the Pirate King?" She added, opening the other eye as well as the irises faded to a light brown.

There was a moment of silence as Merry closed his eyes and sucked in a deep, calming breath. "You mean to tell me… that you plan to go up Reverse Mountain… in this dingy?" He asked incredulously, opening his eyes again to stare at Morgana.

Said woman looked a bit indignant. "It's not a dingy, Merry." She protested. "It's a boat. Not quite a ship, I'll grant you, but you can hardly call it a dingy… that doesn't sound like a word anymore. Dingy." Morgana pulled a face at the word that had indeed lost all meaning after being repeated three times in the last minute.

Scowling at the avoidance of his question, Merry shuffled where he was sat and huffed out a sharp breath. "I'll call it a dingy all I want, if you're really intending to try tackling Reverse Mountain in it!" He said sharply. "That, my dear Morgana, is what we call insanity, and I seem to remember you assuring me that, beyond your pyromania, you aren't insane."

Morgana pondered this for a moment, then smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps a little insane, then." She amended.

With a groan, Merry dropped his head into his hand, elbow propped on his knee, and tried not to regret joining Morgana on her hair-brained journey. After a moment, he pulled himself together and worked himself up in order to argue his case with Morgana. "Look, Morgana, Reverse Mountain is very dangerous. A small boat like this isn't gonna make it. We need a bigger boat."

"Ah, but." Morgana said, holding up a finger dramatically. "A bigger boat needs a bigger crew, and you, Merry, are all the crew I've got." She said proudly, as if this was a good thing. Merry could only stare in disbelief.

Another groan escaped him, and he shook his head. "Then find more crew members!"

Morgana pouted. "But we've already left Lougetown, and there isn't another island before the Grand Line Spotlight and Reverse Mountain." She explained sullenly. "I don't want to turn around now! We need to get into the Grand Line before people start forgetting about me. That means moving as soon as possible."

This caused Merry to gape at her for several seconds. "Are you telling me that you were planning on sailing up Reverse Mountain on your own?"

"Yep!"

"You are insane!"

Staring at the teenage boy as he ran a frustrated, exasperated hand through his white-blonde hair, Morgana sat up and leaned back on her hands which she rested on the wood of the roof behind her. "I know it's dangerous." She said seriously, and Merry looked at her with pleading eyes. "I do know, but…" She sighed, then hunched forwards, curled her legs up until they were crossed and rested her elbows on her knees. "Most pirates are against the World Government because they're pirates, but me? I'm a pirate because I'm against the World Government. I don't have the luxury of disappearing for weeks or months at a time. I need to hit them hard and keep hitting them hard until I win."

"You- Are you…" Merry sighed, frowning as he tired to solve the puzzle that was sitting before him. "Are you trying to overthrow the World Government?" He asked.

Morgana shot him a look that told him the answer to his question was stupidly obvious. She said it anyway. "Yes." There was no doubt in her voice, no waver because what she was committing to was impossible. There was only belief, conviction and utter determination.

"Why?" Merry asked, tilting his head to one side.

A bitter laugh burst from Morgana suddenly, causing Merry to jump a little. The serious, angry, pained expression on Morgana's face was so out of character for the usually cheerful, slightly insane girl that Merry wondered if it hadn't all been an act. "Why? Because they'd have my head on a spike whether I'm a model citizen or the worst scum imaginable. Why should I follow their rules, live under their shadow, when they'd have me killed, erased, because of who I was born to?" She glared at Merry, but the boy knew she wasn't really glaring at him, she just needed to vent. "I grew up on the run because my pops was so scared that I'd be executed, just like dad was. This government, our government, would kill a baby in cold fucking blood, just because I carry the blood of the Pirate King! I didn't do anything wrong, I hadn't broken any laws, but just because I exist, just because I'm my father's daughter, they want me dead." She shrugged. "There's nothing I can't do, really. My sentence is death, no matter what I do. I could set the whole world alight, and they couldn't put a worse punishment on me."

Merry could see that her hands were shaking as she balled them into fists. "Morgana…" He said quietly, but she pretended she hadn't heard him.

"It's wrong. A child shouldn't be blamed for their parent's crimes. And this is just the tip of the dunghill. The whole system is corrupt. They rule with threats, lies and deceit. Pops told me that marines cut the surveillance snails at dad's execution, so they could kill him early. They didn't want people to see what they'd do, because it was underhand and dirty. They don't want people to know that they are underhand and dirty, because they present the image of being clean and pure, it's the pirates that are the underhand cheats, but at least we don't lie about it!

"I just… I'm not trying to destroy the whole system… yet…" She said, calming down enough to uncurl her hands and study her palms, which now had four crescent shaped cuts decorating each of them. She chuckled a little bit, but the sound was hollow. Merry suddenly noticed that her eyes were so black it was impossible to tell iris from pupil. He almost thought he could see flames flickering in their depths, but then he realised it was just the reflection of the sun.

It was amusing, Merry thought, that now that he understood Morgana's drive, the resignation to their chosen path didn't feel so bad. He sighed, shaking his head at himself. "Fine, Reverse Mountain it is." He agreed. Morgana glanced at him and beamed.

Eyes sparkling pink again, she punched the air and whooped. Merry chuckled, somewhat bemused by her sudden mood change, and watched as she flopped back against the roof of the cabin and smiled at the sky. After a little while, Merry too stretched out and lay back, pillowing his hands under his head and staring up at the clouds. "Ne, Merry?" Morgana asked suddenly, her voice quiet. "You think… dad would be proud of me? You think he'd… approve of my decision?"

Surprised, Merry looked over at Morgana. She refused to look at him, but kept her eyes on the sky. With a soft smile, Merry turned back to stare at the wide expanse of blue. "I don't really know, Gana, but from dad's stories about Fire-Fist Ace… I think he'd get it, he'd accept why you're doing it. And I think acceptance is more important than approval, anyway."

There was a sigh that was almost a laugh, and then a small fist knocked against his ribs hard enough for him to feel it, but not so hard that it actually hurt. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

A few days passed comfortably aboard the small boat. Merry found that he was far more at ease around Morgana now that he had some small inkling of the feelings that drove her. That understanding that had blossomed between them had grown into something that was bordering on friendship. It was a surprisingly comforting feeling.

All these thoughts and more swirled around in Merry's mind as he considered the dark horizon. He had agreed to keep watch that night so they could continue to sail through the wee hours of the morning. He had brought a lamp and the manuscript of his novel up onto the roof of the cabin and was working on it as the night drifted by.

Quite suddenly, a fierce glaring light lit up the area. Merry squinted directly into the light for a few seconds, his brain struggling to process what was going on. Then the light moved on, and he saw the beam sweep across the ocean. He felt an odd mixture of anticipation and fear curl in his gut and an exhilarated grin spread across his face. He knocked on the wood beneath him with the heel of his shoe. "Gana! I see the Spotlight!"

There was a squawk from inside the cabin, then a loud thump that Merry realised a moment later was Morgana falling out of her hammock. What followed was a lot of banging and cursing as Morgana struggled to dress herself as fast as possible. Then the cabin door was thrown open, causing it to bang loudly against the wall, and Morgana sped out onto the deck. Merry's eyes followed her as she rushed to the prow, while running her fingers through her hair in a slightly distracted motion to keep it out of her face. She lifted her goggles from around her neck with her free hand and snapped them into place on her forehead, to hold her hair out of her face as she watched the lighthouse with hungry eyes.

The light swept back over them, and Merry was forced to squint, his eyes all but closed, until the light passed. Morgana looked back at him, and Merry nodded in silent agreement. This was it. No turning back now. He quickly and silently gathered up his manuscript and toted it below deck, locking it safely in the bolted-down chest in the cabin.

Returning to the deck, Merry spotted Morgana in the same place she had been when he'd left, stood at the prow, eagerly leaning forwards as her eyes searched the dark horizon for a hint of the Red Line. He joined her there, and stood a little way behind her with his hands in the pockets of his slacks as they watched and waited. An hour drifted by with little changing, except the Spotlight Lighthouse drifting steadily away behind them. Then, all of a sudden, they saw it, looming out of the dark in front of them with little warning. Merry gasped.

It was a stunning sight. In the faint moonlight, the usually vibrantly red cliffs looked black. Merry's creative mind spewed forth analogies that made him shiver; the colouring of the cliffs and the way the moonlight affected them made them look as if they were stained by the blood of the countless fools who had lost their lives trying to enter the Grand Line. They were dark as pitch, blacker than the sky behind them or the sea below them, and Merry likened the scene to the one he imagined he would see if he were dead and approaching the underworld of Grecian mythology; The great black walls of Darkness rearing up before him as he made his unsteady way across the River Styx, the river of the damned.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Merry turned his attention to the cliffs, and searched the dark walls for a sign of the gap that would lead them to the top of Reverse Mountain, and then down again into the Grand Line. For some of the longest minutes in Merry's life, he searched desperately and couldn't find anything, but then a darker-than-dark patch of the cliff caught his attention, and he saw the faint glimmer on the water as the pressure of the current forced it to go against it's nature and flow uphill.

"There!" Merry exclaimed, pointing.

Morgana nearly toppled over the prow of the boat as she leaned forwards, both hands resting on the edge of the ship and one foot in the air behind her to help her keep her balance. "I see it!" She exclaimed triumphantly, also pointing dramatically in front of them. There was a moment, where she nearly overbalanced, but Merry caught her by the back of her belt and steadied her. "Thanks." She muttered, grinning sheepishly but not taking her eyes off that small gap.

"You're welcome." Merry replied mildly, shoving his hand back in his pocket.

Silence filled the gap between them as they both returned to staring at the ever approaching Red Line. "We need to be more to port." Morgana said suddenly. "Get the tiller." She ordered, and Merry didn't need to be told twice. As he hurried for the back of the boat, Morgana swung herself round and bean adjusting the sail for their slight change in direction.

As he adjusted the tiller as per Morgana's orders, Merry had time to dwell on the way this life seemed to come so easily to Morgana. Out here, on the sea, in a tiny little boat, Morgana was in her element. When he had first set eyes on her, on top of that Marine Base, he had thought she cut a striking figure, surrounded by the flames and silhouetted against their blazing backdrop, but that was nothing compared to the easy confidence and radiant contentment she simply oozed when out at sea. There was a difference between the two, Merry acknowledged. In the middle of a blaze, Morgana was terrifying, but here on the open sea, Merry found it very hard not to put his complete and utter faith in her. One made him want to grovel at her feet in fear, the other caused him to swell with a sudden upsurge of respect and a will to follow her to the ends of the earth and into the depths of hell itself.

Merry lost both his breath and footing as the boat lurched beneath him. The sail strained and ropes groaned as the wind picked up and the current caught them. They surged towards the gap and Merry, who had managed to reclaim his feet but not his breath, watched with wide eyes as they approached the tiny gap at speeds this boat really wasn't built for.

The deck tilted alarmingly beneath him, and Morgana, who was still straddling the crossbeam, clutched the top of the mast to save herself being thrown overboard. Her whoop of joy carried on the wind and reached Merry, and he laughed in disbelief. They were really on their way up to the top of Reverse Mountain.

Despite the exhilaration filling Merry as he watched the sky and the top of Reverse Mountain race ever closer, he also felt a huge sweeping wave of fear. The boat was groaning and complaining far too much. His heart thudded hard in his chest when he realised it wasn't going to last. "GANA!" He called over the rushing of the wind and the water and the boat's protests. He saw her turn, an expectant look on her face. "THE BOAT ISN'T GOING TO MAKE IT!" He yelled, cupping one hand around his mouth, while the other was gripping the tiller hard to keep it steady.

Morgana looked down at the boat, a frown on her face. When she looked up again, Merry was surprised to see a grim smile on her face. "YES SHE WILL." She declared fiercely, and Merry found he couldn't contradict her.

They made the rest of the trip up in silence. It seemed to last an age contained within only a few seconds. Merry got so used to the constant state of tension as the boat lurched and rose with the current, that when, all of a sudden, the boat was sailing free without any juddering, jarring motions, he couldn't quite work out what was going on. Then, with a horrible grating, scraping sound, the boat crashed back into the water, its hull catching on the edge of the channel as it fell, and Merry realised they must have been launched into the air. The collision, however glancing, with the edge of the river caused their little boat to careen sideways even as it began it's decent, and it smacked hard into the other wall. There was a terrifying crunch, and the boat rebounded back into the middle of the stream.

Without hesitating, Morgana crawled swiftly across the crossbeam, dropped off the end onto the deck and peered over the side at the hull of the ship. Merry nearly had a heart attack when her head missed a little spur of rock by mere inches. Morgana leaned back again, and grinned at Merry, giving him a thumbs-up sign. Bloody sturdy boat, Merry couldn't help but think in amazement. With sturdy legs and surprisingly good footing, Morgana leapt across to the other side and checked the boat over. 'She's born to be at sea' was the phrase that floated through Merry's head, and he made a mental note to jot that down in his notebook next time he had a hand free. Another thumbs-up sign from Morgana told him that that side of the boat was still whole as well, and he sighed in relief.

There was a ripping sound, and Merry watched in horror as one half of the sail was ripped from the cross-beam, causing the fabric to flap in the wind of their descent. Without the added resistance that half of the sail had provided, the boat tilted alarmingly, until it was going down the mountain as good as sideways. The tail end of the boat caught the cliff wall and grated along it for a moment, before the boat spun round and the front end crashed into the wall with a great splintering sound that made Merry go white.

Of course, true to form, Morgana had disregarded the violently flailing boat and reclaimed her post on the cross-beam, and was currently trying to furl the sail and rebalance the boat. As the front end smacked into the cliffs Morgana was thrown from her place, and it was only her iron grip on the sail that stopped her fro being flung off the boat entirely. As it was, she dropped slowly to the deck as the rest of the sail was ripped from it's fastenings by her weight.

The force of the current below them tore the free of the rocks digging into the front of the boat, and they were flung onwards. Feeling somewhat helpless, Merry watched Morgana fling herself below deck to deal with the hole that little incident had undoubtedly torn into the hull of the boat. Concentrating hard, Merry focused on the bottom of the mountain and did his best to keep the struggling boat from crashing into the walls.

Thankfully, the rest of the journey down the mountain passed relatively uneventfully, all things considered. Morgana returned to the deck, having done a quick patch job on the hole in the hull, and was occupied running about keeping the boat from capsizing. As they reached the bottom, the pair of them relaxed just a little too soon. Their boat caught the bottom of its hull on a rock hidden just below the surface of the water, having drifted just a little too close to the end of the peninsula. With a horrible sound of ripping, splintering wood, the boat slowed considerably, tilted violent, and threw the two of them off the deck.

For a moment, the world spun around Merry in a dizzying circle of stars and water and cliffs, and then, with an impact forceful enough to drive the breath from his lungs, he hit the surface of the water and began to sink. Instinct took over and Merry fought his way to the surface to gulp down deep breaths of air. He turned and watched as their boat groaned and began to sink. Fear gripped him when he realised his manuscript was still inside.

He was just about to throw caution to the wind and swim for the boat in the hopes of getting the precious story out before it sank, when he felt someone grab the back of his shirt. "Don't." Morgana said, tugging him away from the ship.

"But- My manuscript!" Merry cried frantically, his eyes wide.

Morgana's face was tight and strained. "A sinking ship acts like a black hole. It sucks everything around it down with it." She said in a hard voice. "You'll drown if you try to go over there now." Merry thought he saw the glitter of a tear in Morgana's eye, but it was probably just the sea water on her face.

Just at that moment, the boat gave a loud groan and stopped sinking. Half in and half out of the water, it stayed there, not moving. After an age of waiting, Merry and Morgana realised it wasn't going to sink any more, and they struck out together. They soon realised, however, that the force of the current was so strong that they wouldn't be able to get any closer, and they reluctantly turned for shore before they exhausted themselves entirely.

They hauled themselves up onto the peninsula which had a lighthouse built upon it, and collapsed on the hard ground, breathing hard. Morgana giggled, and Merry rolled over to stare at her in shock and bemusement. His captain grinned at him. "Told you we'd make it to the bottom." She declared smugly.

Merry could only roll his eyes with an exasperated smile.