Whare Potae (The House of Mourning)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Author's Note: Hello friends! I have two headaches, but I really want to write...so I'll try. If the chapter turns out too terribly, then I'll stop, I promise.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Maui was uncharacteristically quiet for most of the voyage back to Motunui. He had a lot on his mind; possibly more than he'd had to think about for the last several thousand years.

He watched Moana steering from the prow of the boat, one hand resting lightly on the mast as she scanned the horizon with that calculating, concentrated, half-squinty look in her eyes, and her hair all over the place in the breeze. She was remarkable, striking, beautiful in sort of a weird and unexpected way that didn't really tie in with the concept he'd once had of what great beauty was supposed to look like.

Contrary to popular myth and legend, Maui was neither totally comfortable nor very experienced in love. Oh, there had been women; actually, there had been hundreds of women over the years, mostly star-struck mortal girls who'd grown up on their elders' tales of gods and monsters, girls who were dazzled by the idea of being an adventuress who won the heart of a bad-boy hero. Sometimes, they were pretty young wives of village chiefs who ran off for a temporary escape from a husband twice or even three times their age. Maui was their rebellion, and, in a little way, they had been his. In the end, though, no one ever got hurt. The girls would go back to their homes, full of the excitement of having had a little harmless legendary romance they would be able to tell the grandchildren about, and Maui sailed off to another island, another village paradise, having temporarily satisfied his taste for companionship, and comfortably but completely alone.

This was different. This time, he was uncomfortably aware that if she left, he'd feel the absence. He'd already felt it, years before, starting the moment he'd flown away and left her to sail back to Motunui after they'd restored the Heart of Te Fiti. That had been a strange surprise, especially since she'd been just some little girl he'd known for only a few days. It hadn't made any sense. He'd figured it'd pass.

It wasn't going to pass, he realized now. Moana was someone inexplicably special, and Maui was starting to get nervous. He was way, way out of his depth and, as far as he could tell, she hadn't even really noticed yet.

Hine-nui-te-po had noticed, though. Maui wondered to himself if he'd known already, or if she'd been the one to make him realize just far in over his head he really was. Maybe it was really some complicated combination of the two, or maybe it didn't matter.

"Maui?" Moana called his name, and Maui snapped out of his romantic reverie so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. "Um, everything okay? You're awfully...pensive? Seasick?" She gave him a teasing, slightly malicious little grin, and Maui's heart did that unsettling somersault thing again.

Oh man...I've got it really bad, he thought, snorting a self-deprecating little laugh under his breath. Yep, I'm in trouble.

"I don't get seasick," he said aloud, making a face at her. "Demigod of the Wind and Sea, remember? Hey, and I taught you everything you know about sailing."

"You taught me some things," Moana admitted, "after the ocean forced you, but most of it I learned by doing.

"The only reason you didn't end up drowned in the first place," Maui reminded her, "was that the ocean had your back...until you found me. After that, let's be honest, it was mostly me."

"You helped," agreed Moana graciously. "Okay? I'll give you that."

"So generous," Maui muttered, rolling his eyes. "Are we there, yet?"

By way of an answer, Moana pointed across the prow of the boat to where something larger than it should have been was looming on the horizon.

"Oh, yeah," mumbled Maui. "I forgot that it's a mountain, now."