Whare Potae (The House of Mourning)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Author's Note: Today is not turning out to be a very good day. Maybe some fanfiction will help.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Maui was watching the door with every nerve on the alert when Moana stepped into the room. She had that set, determined look on her face that he'd come to know so well, and for a split-second, his heart leapt, and then, almost instantly, felt like it had frozen over.

Moana was ghastly pale, almost white in the light of the sun shining through the waves above, and she was wearing the cloak of a Turehu, the garment that marked her as a welcome resident of the underworld, and of a servant hand-picked by the goddess herself.

It got her after all, thought Maui dully, disbelieving. I...I should never have left her alone...and Hine-nui-te-po probably knew all along. Maybe she drowned trying to come after me. Maybe the ocean took her the moment I left. What...what do I do now?

"Maui!" Moana called for him, rushed towards him, but Maui wasn't sure what to say. He felt like he couldn't even move. Everything seemed to have sort of slowed down. Nothing felt real.

"M-Moana," he began, wanting to apologize but not sure where the hell to start. "You...?"

I'm so sorry, he thought, but that felt stupid, meaningless, and it only made him angrier at himself. Really? That's all I've got? 'I'm so sorry?' Pathetic lot of good that does her now...but at least I'm not alone anymore.

That horribly selfish thought took him by surprise, and he sunk his head down on his chest, disgusted with himself, no longer even willing to look her in the eye.

Moana stopped, frowned, and looked surprised. There was still plenty of life in her eyes, Maui realized and, now that he thought about it, what was she doing in a red and gold cloak, if she'd been drowned in the sea? Red and gold were the colors of-!

""What? Me? No, no, no, no, no. Nope." Moana shook her head emphatically. "Look!" She blew hastily on her forearm, displacing a lot of white sand which floated away in the water, revealing the healthy, vital brown skin of her bare arm. "See? Good disguise, though, right? It was the ocean's idea. Oh, man, though, I didn't think it'd be good enough to fool even you!"

She grinned, vivacious as always, absolutely alive, and Maui wondered, as about forty different confusing and rather uncomfortable emotions bombarded him all at the same time, if this was what a heart attack felt like.

"Uh," he mumbled, shaking his head, waiting for the relief to stop hurting quite so much so that he could find the words again. ""I think that you may have just taken several years off my life...and that shouldn't be possible, for, uh, obvious reasons."

He hazarded a smile, and Moana, looking almost as happy as he suddenly felt, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard.

Gingerly, still just a little afraid to believe, Maui wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest. She felt real, warm, definitely human and still undeniably alive, and that gave him confidence. He hugged her tighter, brushed his lips hesitantly against her hair, suddenly very unwilling to let her go.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled, and he meant it. "This was, uh...really dumb."

"Well, yeah," agreed Moana, grinning even more broadly, now. "I'll be honest with you, wasn't the best decision you've ever made, but we can talk about that later...and just so you know, Maui, we are going to talk about this later. Might be a good idea for us to set down some ground rules about when it's not okay to play the hero.... but that's for later. Right now, let's just worry about getting out of here."