Whare Potae (The House of Mourning)

Prologue

Author's Note:

I am reasonably new to Maori culture, but I'm going to do my best to work it into this story as respectfully and accurately as possible, while still keeping to the sort of fantasy world that Disney has created. I will inevitably make mistakes, and for that I beg your patience in advance. I'm learning, and if you know something that I don't, I'd love for you to teach me!

Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the story.

                                                                           Whare Potae

                                                                       The House of Mourning

                                                                    By Mercy Slaughter

                                                                             Prologue

The sea had always been Moana's friend, until one day, with the capricious nature of the elements, it betrayed her.

Chief Moana of Motunui was down by the docks, watching the fisherman haul in that day's catch with proud smiles on their faces, all singing their sea-songs and grunting to show how heavy and impressive their burdens were, when she heard the cries.

Tipene, young wife of one of the fisherman, came rushing up the beach holding her baby in her arms and screaming. The poor woman wasn't even crying any more, she was just screaming wordlessly and shaking all over, clutching the body of her one-year-old daughter against her chest. Moana knew before she looked that the baby was dead; drowned in the surf, most likely.

This was the third time this week that a child had gotten too close to the water with disastrous consequences.

Late that night, while the other women were all clustered around in Tipene's home, comforting her and preparing for mourning, Moana went down to the sea alone and watched the waves for a while.

"I don't get it," she muttered, shaking her head. "Where did we go wrong? Why have you done this to us? Have I...I don't know, offended you, or upset you, or something? How am I supposed to know what to do if you won't talk to me? I mean...well, not talk to me, but...I don't know, give me a sign, or something? What is it you're trying to tell me?"

Moana was a new chief, and had only been formally leading her people for a few months. Her father had stepped down due to some acute pains and trouble walking; the result of an old injury he'd sustained during an accident several years ago. Now, he served in Moana's old role; adviser to the people of Motunui, and Moana's second-in-command.

The sea, which had once been so playful and talkative in it's own way, lay still, calm, and dark.

After checking to make sure that no one else was around, Moana sat down on the beach and shed a few angry tears of her own.

When she finally looked up a few moments later, the glistening shape of a manta ray was gliding across the surface of the water. It was only there for an instant, sparkling and then gone as quickly as it had come, but in it's wake, Moana wondered aloud to herself, "Grandma?"

The next morning, Moana hurried to the home of the village Tohunga, the priestess, who served as the wise woman and medium who could make spiritual requests. With her mother and father at her side, Moana sat on the floor and listened to the Tohunga and her two sons play the music of the taonga puoro, the flutes, trumpets and drums that served to open a channel between the mortals and the gods.

As the music played, Moana sat back, closed her eyes, and listened to the voices inside her; voices which grew louder and more insistent as the music intensified all around her. Several people in Moana's head were screaming, crying, and then she could see a shadow in her mind's eye; the shadow of a tall, slender woman with long, dark hair. The shadow was laughing a low, dark, mirthless laugh, a laugh that sent chills down Moana's spine.

Then, suddenly, Moana could her her grandmother's voice speaking, and she listened to the story that her grandmother, in her heart, was trying to tell her.

"Far across the sea," whispered her grandmother, "and far below the ground, deep in the land of Rarohenga dwells the goddess of death, Hine-nui-te-po, the keeper of the souls of the dead. Once, she was content only to guard and guide the spirits of those who have passed, but now she is angry, furious because a trickster demigod, a self-styled hero has crept into her world and has stolen her heart!"

Moana groaned. "Wait...really? Again? He's stolen another heart? You can't...you can't be serious. No way, I don't believe wouldn't do that. I mean, he wouldn't do it again, anywy; not after what happened last time!"

Moana's grandmother paused for a moment as the music slowed.

"Well," admitted her grandmother, in a slightly less terrible tone of voice, "when I say "he stole her heart," to be honest I am speaking...figuratively, this time. Nothing was actually stolen, as it were. What I mean is, Hine-nui-te-po's got a crush on him. Heehee..."

Grandmother laughed, and Moana's mouth fell open in shock. She had to force herself to keep her eyes tightly shut so as not to lose track of the vision.

"Wait," mumbled Moana, "so, let me get this straight. The goddess of death has a...a thing for Maui?" Moana was having a hard time picturing it. I mean, sure, she thought, he was a great guy, in his own way, but...somehow, she just didn't' see him as heartthrob material.

"I"m afraid so," sighed Grandmother, as Maui's shadow appeared in Moana's vision. "Love can be a terrible thing at its strongest, Moana. When Maui refused the attentions of the goddess of death, she flew into a rage and has trapped him deep in Rarohenga; a land from which not even he could ever escape. She will destroy everything she can reach, tainting even the sea itself with her fury, until Maui agrees to accept her as his wife. If he does not, she will continue to rage, no doubt killing Maui himself in her great temper, which will only further incite her to grief and destruction."

"Maui..." Moana bit her lip, and watched the shadow of her former traveling companion fading slowly out of her mind's eye as her grandmother's voice receded into nothing, along with the sounds of the drums and flutes. The last thing Moana saw before she opened her eyes was Maui's form chained with head bowed in the midst of an endless darkness, while the sounds of terribly,angry laughter echoed all twisted hard in Moana's chest, and she started to reach out to him, but, almost immediately, the vision was gone.

When Moana opened her eyes again, the music had stopped. Her mother, her father, the Tohunga and her sons were all staring expectantly at Moana's face, waiting for judgment from their intrepid Chief.

Moana sighed.

"I...I gotta go," she mumbled, scrambling to her feet. "Sorry, this is kinda last minute, but I could use some help packing. I've been really busy for the past few days...I am fresh out of food. Can anybody spare me some fruit? A few coconuts? Oh, and I'm going to need the new canoe, because this might take a while, and I'm not uh, actually sure where I'm going. This is probably going to sound like a stupid question, but I don't suppose anyone's ever actually been to Rarohenga?"

She grinned sheepishly at the blank looks on all of their faces, then shook her head.

"Uh yeah...silly thing to ask, right? N-nevermind."

Author's Note: Ooh, that was fun! I haven't written fanfiction in a really long time. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed it.

If you're interested in reading the rest of this story, I'd absolutely love it if you'd drop me a quick note to let me know. Thank you so much for taking the time!