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Gramma Tala rises with the sun, so from a young age Moana does too.
Her father doesn’t like her going near the water, but even he won’t deny her this. Whatever he may think of his mother from time to time he loves her dearly, and trusts her to keep his daughter safe.
And so every day they rise at dawn, meeting at the water’s edge. Tala sinks her feet firmly in the water while Moana stays dry on the beach, and every day she teaches her to dance. It’s a different dance from the one her mother taught her, different from any other she’s learned.
“It’s a secret dance,” He grandmother once confirmed to her with a smile and a wink, brushing noses with the toddler in her arms. “But I can teach it to you, if you want.”
Xx
Moana loves her parents, loves her grandmother, loves her people.
She'd never had a best friend, though, or really any close friends. As a child her mind had been on the sea, and she listened to her grandmother's stories with too much rapture, too eager to eat the stories alive, compared to her companions. So instead of dwelling on lost chances she spends long days on the beach with her grandmother, dancing near the waves but never close enough to soak her feet.
(She's afraid. Afraid that if she gets too close the call will be too strong, and she won't be able to resist.)
Years of growing up left even less opportunities for friendship. Not to say she didn't have any friends, she was proud to say she was reasonably friendly with the whole island. But she was the chief's daughter, and she thinks, looking back, that it probably put some sort of barrier there.
Anyway, she doesn't need close friends. Moana is and always has been a girl constantly on the move. Her father is relentless with his wisdom and lessons and she takes it all in stride. She likes to think it suits her, really, the weight resting on broad shoulders. She likes to think she wears responsibility well, and the people of Motunui seem to agree.
Alongside her father, her mother teaches her the steps of her's people's ancient dances and instructs her on how to utilize the resources of the island. Moana knows she sees the way her daughter stares at the sea, and while it makes her husband set his jaw she just runs a tired hand through her hair. Sometimes she tries to distract Moana elsewhere, but somehow she never tries too hard.
(It'll make sense, later, when Moana learns that her father had the same calling in his heart.
Her mother will never understand, not entirely. But she is supportive, and it means more to Moana than she can say.)
So she doesn’t have friends, but she fills her time easily, helping out the children with dance and repairing roofs and fulfilling any other duty that comes about. She solves problems and acts confidentially and her father's proud smile stretched across his features warms her heart like her grandmother's cooking.
(And if she still hears the ocean calling her, the horizon crooning sweet song, well, what does it matter, as long as she resists?)
Xx
Everything is fine until one day it isn’t.
Motunui is dying, rotting from the inside out and her father won’t listen to her. She is trying to save her people, to do as he taught her. But then again, she is trying to go to the sea, and she knows just seeing her walk on the beach sets Tui on edge.
But her island is dying and she knows how to save it, and she’s not going to let her father stop her, not this time.
Her island is dying, and her grandmother is dying with it.
Xx
So she pulls a demigod by the ear as her grandmother tod her to and screams until she feels hoarse. He’s the only one she’s ever met whose stubbornness rivals her own strong will. Another time, another life, he may win, but the ocean is on her side, and Moana is tired of people standing in her way.
Xx
Maui is... not what she expected. She's grown up with her grandmother's tales writhing in her mind, blossoming and blooming, but Maui is so much more real than she could have ever imagined.
The first days are rough, to say the least. She's as headstrong as he is proud and they butt heads at every turn, at his reluctance to the teach her even the simplest of things and her refusal to release him from the mission.
Life in the village, learning to guide and lead and be sure of herself, has tempered her attitude. But here, with nothing but the sea for miles and Maui's aggravating attitude, she has less control. Or maybe perhaps, she still does, but she has less patience for Maui.
They fall into a rhythm, though. The days fly into weeks and Maui loosens the reigns, loosens up.
Sailing takes a lot of strength, she learns. The ropes chafe her hands and turn to callouses, hard and unmoving. Her legs ache from standing so long on the sea and staying up night after night is wearing her down. But she’s learning, slowly, and every time she catches Maui with an approving grin it’s all worth it.
After that it's easy, really, to see why he was so loved in the past. Beneath the arrogance there's a guarded heart, thirsty for the love he was so denied as a child.
(The gods took him in, but gods, Moana knows, do not love the same way as humans do. Maui flouts his demigod status with an easy smile and twirl of his fishhook, but she knows, now, that he was born human. Human, just like her and the people of her village who she misses with all heart heart.
Everything falls into place, after she presses him for the details of his tattoo. Only a human would be so desperate for such affection, because that's what he craved. Gods desired worship and respect, mortals sought love.)
Xx
There are plenty of good days, but they’re not without the bad, and today has probably been the worst they've had yet. Both their tempers are running high, stress and exhaustion making a lethal mix with raw emotion.
Moana’s rage is shaking her entire frame and she’s fiercely biting back tears. She knows she messed up, she knows how much the fish hook means to Maui. But she also knows that Maui is more than his weapon, more than what the gods made him, and she knows they can’t give up now, not when they’re so close.
“The ocean chose me!” She screams in his face, because she can’t see any other way to make Maui understand, and he needs to understand that she doesn’t have a choice. This elicits the exact opposite reaction she had hoped for. Maui steps closer to her, and it takes all her willpower not to step back.
“The ocean made mistake.” He snarls, and before she can respond his fish hook flashes, and after a few shifts in form he lands on a hawk, soaring away from Moana and her mission.
She’s furious and heartbroken and sure she’s never going to see him again. Angry but determined, she pushes her feelings aside. She was chosen for a reason, and she’s going to succeed with or without him.
Xx
Maui comes back, though. She never asks what made him turn around, and he never offers an explanation. Moana doesn’t mind, though, not after everything.
Later, she realizes that perhaps no one will ever understand her reasons for following through with the the quest as well as him.
Xx
"Tell me, gramma." She says. "Why did Maui steal the goddess's heart?"
She's sitting cross legged, her back to the sea. Her grandmother's slim fingers run carefully through her hair, finally starting to grow past her shoulders.
"I am not sure." She says easily, not pausing in her work.
"You're not sure?"
Moana's incredulity must seep into her voice, because her grandmother chuckles lightly.
"They always said he was after the power to create life, to steal it for himself."
"Oh."
She is inexplicably disappointed. Maui, before this point, has been a sweeping hero in her Grandmother's stories, raising the islands and lassoing the sun. But now, hearing of his selfishness, she can feel some of her faith in him waning.
"It always seemed odd to me." Her grandmother amends, sensing Moana's disappointment. "That's why I said I am not sure."
Before Moana can think of a response, her grandmother rises, flicking the leafy crown in her granddaughter's hair.
"Done!" She proclaims, turning Moana around so she can see the crown in full view. "Now go on, they're waiting for you."
She forgets the conversation not long after, swept up in dance lessons and leadership lessons and the needs of the village. It only comes back to her after everything, after Maui's fish hook lies shattered at his feet and the tattoo stretching between the expanse of his shoulders has new meaning.
Xx
"You could come with me."
The words are out of Moana’s mouth before she can register what she's saying, but she finds she doesn’t regret them. "My people are going to need a master wayfinder to teach them."
Maui looked at her, then, with the same expression he had worn the first day he had let her sail by herself. It was pride.
"They already have one."
The admission brings her dangerously close to tears, and instead of responding she steps forward to embrace him. He meets her halfway, and she feels terribly small in his arms. She holds tight, though, breathing in the moment. She knows the way these stories go.
"I'm going to miss you."
Xx
So she returns to Motunui alone.
It hadn’t been unexpected, after all, she had left Motunui by herself, and she’s more than capable of sailing on her own now. Still, in between the sounds of the waves and Hei Hei’s calls she expects to hear Maui, feel his heavy weight shifting the canoe as he walked aboard the deck. She's spent so many months sailing with him by her side, grown accustomed to the constant shadow at her shoulder.
Now he's a phantom presence, one she’s not quite sure how to confront.
Xx
She misses him.
Moana likes to think she honest enough with herself to admit it, bold enough to confront it. If she admits it to herself, then perhaps maybe the feelings will begin to fade.
She misses him, but Maui is gone. She isn't sure what demigods do these days, but she's sure he's off committing heroic deeds in the name of man, or woman, or all, she amends mentally.
She fills the absence of a friend like she always has, though, pouring herself into her duties. She still has a village to aid and parents to love and a new mission to add to her repertoire. And for awhile, it’s enough. She holds lessons daily, instructing those willing to learn in the ways of ocean travel, how to survive a storm and how to flip over the canoe. When they grow more confident she takes them out past the reef, still in sight of Motunui, and sets about teaching them to wayfind.
Following the stars sets her memories on edge, and she can hear Maui’s voice in her mind as she teaches, remembering the points of light he used to guide them and the angle of his hand against the sky. Sometimes she welcomes the memories, sinking into the familiarity and the warmth it brings her. Other times it casts a shadow on her mood, a bitter kind of nostalgia.
The months pass.
She still sees a hawk on the edges of her vision, but she's grown used to ignoring it. Maui is gone, she thinks firmly, and he is not coming back.
(She tries to ignore the ache in her chest. She tries filling it, drowning it, spending every waking moment teaching her people the ways of the sea. It's a big job, for one wayfinder, and she wonders how much easier it would be with him there.
The ache doesn't leave, though. It's a cavity, she realizes, that can only be filled by a friend. And her best friend is gone and she needs to focus.)
And then suddenly Maui is there.
She’s by herself, ankle deep in salty water at dawn. She’s always here at dawn, dancing with the water in her Grandmother’s place. In recent times, it’s the only time of day she’s ever alone.
"Where have you been?"
She tries, really tries, to keep the sharpness out of her voice. There's a part of her that had never expected to see Maui again. She must succeed on some front, because Maui looks unbothered by her tone, a large smile crossing his face.
"Where haven't I been?" He says, pushing his hair back and leaning on his fishhook. "After a thousand years stuck on on that miserable rock, I needed to get out, explore."
"You could have explored Motunui." She says with a frown. He opens his mouth but she's too quick for him, always, cutting him off. "But I don't think that's why you're here."
"You don't think I came for a visit?" He asks with a confident grin, which wavers slightly at her blank expression. He shrugs easily enough, though, and goes on. "You're right. I've been tracking a Lerakala, disgusting creature, really, that recently escaped from the monster realm. Probably encouraged by that loathsome crab, Tamatoa."
Well, it explains what he's been doing recently, at least, but it's not an excuse for months and months of silence.
Why are you telling me this, she thinks, and he must hear her unspoken question because he's plows on.
"It'll be a tough job, you know." He says, pausing. She looks back at him, unimpressed,
"And I thought you might want to come, with me." he finishes, looking interestedly at the ground instead of her eyes. It's similar, she thinks, to the first time she had seen him express genuine emotion after their confrontation with the giant crab.
“I could use your help.”
“My help?” She asks blankly. “Why would you need my help?”
He answers her without missing a beat.
"You're the bravest mortal I know." Maui coughs hurriedly, avoiding her eyes. He swings his fishhook onto his shoulders, adding hastily. "I mean, I figure you could make great bait again."
For a moment Moana simply stares at him, arms folded with a frown lacing her features.
"Maui, demigod of the wind and sea," she says slowly. "are you inviting me to come with you on a quest?"
He rolls his eyes.
"Don't make this into a thing, kid."
Moana grins at him.
"I missed you too, you know."
Xx
Readying the canoe drives them into an easy rhythm. They're past words, so confident in each other's actions. Maui trusts Moana to ready the boat as easily as she trusts him to lead the way. It sets a feeling of familiarization in her chest and she can’t help but grin up at Maui, who's perched atop the mast. He catches her smile and returns it unabashedly, and with a jolt she realized that he’s missed this too.
She had thought that her quest to find Maui, her journey to return Te Fiti’s heart, would be her last adventure outside the life of her island. Of course, she was teaching her people to wayfind and sail the ocean's expanse, but it's a long process, and though they trust her they are still a careful people.
This adventure with Maui, however, is exhilarating in a way she's forgotten. Her blood is on fire and her heart's pumping madly but she's enjoying every moment of it, drinking in lost moments, lost time.
Xx
Everything is going brilliantly, actually, until it isn't.
Somehow the fighting has moved dangerously close to the cliff side. Moana can't really remember the details, she's too exhausted. The climb up the mountain had been grating, and her fingers are bleeding from the Lerakala’s hard back where she's holding on for dear life. They're not trying to kill the beast, only trying to capture it and return back to the proper realm, but if things keep going the way it is now then they may not have a choice.
With a sudden twist the Lerakala throws her from it's back, right before colliding with Maui's hook, exploding in a dazzling violet light.
And suddenly she's falling. She can hear Maui screaming her name and she knows, she knows there's nothing she can do, but then Maui is there falling next to her, and she can see him mouthing words but for some reason her ears don't seem to be working.
So they're both going to die, she thinks blankly, but Maui puts a hand on her arm and the fish hook in his other hand flashes brilliant blue and she's flying.
Xx
"You could come with me."
Maui's words give her an odd sense of déjà vu, and a part of her feels like she's floating. The adrenaline is still buzzing in her veins and her core is still shaking from the exhilaration of flight.
His words surprise her, though, and so he fills her silence.
"You did good, out there." He continues, and this time he has no trouble meeting her eyes. His are shining like the under skin of an oyster shell, and with a jolt she realizes that he too is soaking in the same exhilaration chiming under her skin. She's never heard of Maui using the fish hook's powers directly on others, but then again, she's never heard of Maui fighting with a companion before.
The realization makes her heart leap in affection, in excitement, but it dwindles slightly as she comes back to herself, shaking her head.
"My place is at Motunui, with my people."
Her voice is firm. She's longed for something other than duty before, and she's not sure she can stand a heart divided again. A part of her expects him to argue, but instead he simply nods, leaning on his fish hook.
"I understand."
The words leave his mouth and Moana is suddenly overwhelmingly grateful of their understanding of each other. He knows her now, in the way she knows him. He lifts her strengths and compensates for her weaknesses, and in turn she does the same for him.
That won't make it any easier, though. They work, somehow, and she thinks of the months she has spent looking over her shoulder, expecting to find him there. Moana wonders, then, if he had experienced the same thing.
But she has duties and she loves her people, so instead she pulls Maui close into a hongi, pressing together their foreheads and the bridges of their noses. They stay like that, for a moment, before she buries her face into his chest, throwing her arms as far around him as she can manage.
Muffled, she speaks into his shoulder.
"You are welcome to visit Motunui, anytime."
She can feel his laughter reverberate in his chest, and pretends she doesn't clutch him even tighter.
"I'll keep that in mind, princess."
Xx
The islander's are itching for her tale when she returns. Gramma Tala may be gone, but Motunui has always been home to storytellers, and they fill her absence with legends and folklore.
So she sits with the village outside of their meeting tent, an open circle welcome to anyone, regaling them with her and Maui's latest adventure.
"And then he turned me into a hawk." She says, remembering the wind biting her feathers and the weightless feeling in the pit of her stomach. The children explode in a burst of excitement and a thousand questions, but the older of the village frown, leaning their heads together. She settles the children and continues her story, but out of the corner of her eyes she can see her father frowning.
Later, when her family is settled in their hut, eating their evening meal, Tui bring up the incident again, as Moana has expected him too.
“So Maui turned you into a hawk, eh?”
His voice is intentionally ambivalent, and Moana isn’t looking to dive so deeply into the conversation, not tonight. She settles for a nod, and her father frowns, exchanging a look with her mother.
“I’ve never heard of any human surviving such a magic encounter before. It was risky move on his part.”
Suddenly, she feels an irrational need to defend Maui. Which is ridiculous, since he’s a demigod, a being somewhat worshipped, who definitely does not need defending.
"Well, I'm glad it worked.” She snaps. “If it hadn't, I wouldn't have survived the fall."
Her mother flinches and her father clenches his jaw, and suddenly Moana is reminded forcefully that her people aren't acquainted with danger in the way she has become. The realization makes her feel very cold, suddenly, and she excuses herself, quickly exiting the hut before her parents can argue.
Outside, she make her way to the canoes tied up near the beach. She collapses on the edge of the boat, wrapping her arms round her legs and burying her face in her knees, shoulders shaking.
Xx
Maui’s visits and subsequent missions become something of a semi regular occurrence. Of course, she never leaves the island when she’s badly needed, and she never leaves unannounced. She has duties and responsibilities that she can’t abandon on a whim, not now.
She’s thankful, always, that both her people understand her need to accompany Maui and that Maui understands her duties towards her people. Perhaps, once upon a time, she could have lived without one, but now that she’s had both she refuses to let either go. She can have both, and she will fight for it.
It’s in the quiet moments, like when they’re drifting back home, drinking in the sound of the waves against the haul, that she can see it, the lightness of his spirit and the way his shoulder’s lift. Maui, she knows, needs this as much as she does.
Xx
It doesn't escape her notice that no matter how many times Maui visits Motunui, he never interacts with the people. It’s a curious observation, and every time he leaves before they reach the shore she wonders why. Perhaps, after so many years, he is afraid of rejection, afraid to be thrown out once more.
Still, Maui visits often, or often enough for a Demigod. His very presence on the island sparks excitement, though few even see him on a good day. Every time he shies away from the villagers she longs to ask why, but is is afraid of his reaction, afraid to hurt him. Time stretches, though, and she’s never been able to contain questions very long.
It’s during one of the few times when he’s come to Motunui simply for a visit that she asks him about it.
They’ve spent the better part of an hour hiking up the side of the mountain, much to Maui’s displeasure. He had wanted to fly them up, but Moana had refused, pointing out that they needed a way to carry their food up with them, and she refused point blank to let him carry the food as a hawk. So they hiked, and upon reaching a suitable spot with a view of the bay they laid out their treasures. Her mother’s cooked chicken for Maui’s arrival, and though she’s met the demigod few times Moana knows she has a fondness for him.
“Why don’t you go into the village?”
“What?”
Maui actually seems surprised, and it’s such a feat she congratulates herself silently before continuing.
“The village.” She repeats. “If you went down, my people would be thrilled. They’d throw you a feast, offer you their thanks.”
Maui frowns, and she continues.
“I’ve told them what we’ve done together, what you’ve done. You’re a hero to them again, Maui.” She pauses. “I thought that’s all you ever wanted.”
Maui takes his time chewing his chicken before responding, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
“It used to be.” He confirmed, reaching for a piece of fruit spread on the palm weaving. Moana doesn’t respond, instead giving him the chance to drop the topic. She owes him this, at least. He doesn’t continue, but, Moana realizes, she doesn’t need him to. Suddenly, she understands.
Xx
The pair sit on the edge of the canoe, legs hanging above the water. It’s been a successful day, but an exhausting one. Her head is pounding, though she can’t seem to find a direct cause. She chalks it up to a lack of sleep instead of the gruelling day. It shows on her, she considers wryly, hyper aware of the way her feet are aching and her eyelids are fluttering. Maui, she thinks, looks the same as he always does. Maybe demigod’s didn’t get tired, she wonders, or maybe Maui is always this exhausted.
“Listen,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “I’ve never.. done this, before. I’ve never really had a... “
He struggles, and for a moment she considers letting him hang. But when she glances sideways she catches the furrow between his brows and the way his fingers are clasped tightly in his lap, back tense. It’s so different from the bravado he wears like a second skin that it gives her pause, coming to his rescue.
“Friend?” She offers.
“I was going to say really cool sidekick, but friend works too.”
“Ah.” She says with a nod, leaning against his shoulder, staring at the sun dipping below the horizon. He shifts slightly to give her a more comfortable position, but she can still feel the tightness in his muscles. “I’ve never had one either, you know.”
Maui does look at her, after that. She can see his face on the edge of her vision. He looks surprised, and somewhat confused.
“A friend?”
“A really cool sidekick.” She corrects. “But. . . I guess you could say friend, too.”
She can feel him relax then, letting out a deep breath and settling slightly. The last light of the day casts a golden shadow over the two of them, bathing them in it’s warm glow.
“I’m glad the ocean chose you.”
Moana thinks of calluses on her palms. She thinks of Maui’s desolate island and the open ocean, saltwater burning her throat and lava burning her hair. She thinks of her grandmother’s spirit and the way she had felt falling into the realm of monsters.
She think’s of Maui’s newest tattoo, settled over his heart.
“Yeah.” she agrees, smiling in the face of the setting sun. “Me too.”