Whare Potae (The House of Mourning)

Chapter Seventeen

Author's Note: Okay, fanfiction time. I am absolutely, ABSOLUTELY not allowed to look at any more sad Princess Leia art tributes on facebook. Strong nope, hard pass.

Let's start today off with a question about fandom romance. That's always fun, right?

I'm starting to really enjoy writing the dynamic between Moana and Maui. I honestly feel those two characters in the movie have some of the best chemistry that I've ever seen between two characters in a Disney film, so hopefully this romance I'm writing is going in a good direction.

Other than Moana and Maui, what is your favorite romantic pairing (any fandom), and why? Feel free to teach me about a pairing I've never heard of, I love those.

Chapter Seventeen

It was, unfortunately, over before Moana was ready. In what felt like mere minutes, Maui closed the distance between the village and the ocean below, landing neatly in the canoe that was tied to some miraculously intact rocks on the beginnings of the new beach which the ocean had begun creating at the base of Mount Motunui. Startled and somewhat out of her depth, with the world still spinning around her, Moana lay still on Maui's back until she felt slightly more at ease with her newly stationary state. Then, she began clumsily trying to untie the ropes around her legs, but, still a little dizzy, she fumbled with the knots and had trouble getting them untangled.

Maui gave her a sharp look over his shoulder, then shrugged his wings, spread them out, and transformed back into his human form. Moana was left clinging to his back, piggy-back style, and what had, moments ago, been feathers abruptly became skin. Moana could hear his heart beating with her face pressed against his back like that, and it was an oddly comforting, grounding feeling, especially after the exhilarating ride. His skin was warm, too, probably from the exertion of the flight, and Moana's face flushed just as hot when she realized that she was too busy thinking about Maui's back, and not busy enough trying to untie her harness.

"S-sorry," she mumbled confusedly, pulling even harder on the knots.

"Here." Maui passed her a knife. "You, uh, sure you're okay? You sound a little out of breath. Too much for you? Hey, don't say I didn't warn you."

Hastily slashing at the rope around her waist, Moana freed herself from the harness and slid down into the boat.

"Wh-what are you talking about? I," she assured Maui, maybe just a little bit too loudly and quickly, "am absolutely FINE. Everything's great! I'm awesome. You're awesome! That...that was an awesome trip. We will, uh, have to do that again sometime...I mean, if you want. Wait, sorry, did that hurt? I'm not too heavy, am I? Actually, don't answer that, please. I probably don't want to know."

"You're light as a feather," Maui assured her loyally, "and if you weren't, I definitely wouldn't tell you." He grinned. "Let's just be glad you're not dead, okay? Now, you ready for the hard part?"

Moana looked out at the deceptively calm sea, aware that, the moment they set off from the shore, it was more than likely that the ocean would begin its onslaught. That hurt her, and somehow it hurt her more deeply, now, than it had when she'd been gazing down at the sea from the village above. Now, close to the water that had once been her greatest ally, Moana felt she barely knew the ocean anymore, something that, as a wayfinder, she had a hard time accepting.

"So?" Maui was looking at her expectantly. "What do you think, Chief? Are we gonna take another stab at Te Fiti?"

Well, yes, thought Moana. I mean, of course we are! What's the worst that can happen, right?

She immediately wished she hadn't asked herself that question, as visions of storms, waterfalls, giant cannibalistic crabs, and the goddess of death filled her mind.