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“What other animals can you turn into?”
Moana's sitting on the beach, letting the warm sand sift lazily around her feet, filtering between her fingertips like water.
A shadow passes over the girl's body, spreading out along the ground and momentarily blocking out the sun. She ignores it in favor of staring out at the horizon where the ocean laps gently at the sky, and from the corner of her eye a great mountainous hawk becomes an equally mountainous man.
“That's a real loaded inquiry, Curly. You sure know how to pick 'em.”
Her attention's on him now, watching as he plops down into the sand next to her, tilting her head to the side as he takes a casual bite out of the fruit that he's currently holding.
“That's not an answer.”
“Because it's not the right question, kiddo. The right question would be 'what CAN'T you turn into,' and the answer to that would be 'very little.'” He tosses his head to the side, all smug grin and wavy hair falling over his shoulder. “Because I'm just that awesome.”
At the snort and rolling eyes that she gives in reply his gaze suddenly becomes mischievous, greedy for attention as he plasters a grim snarl on his face and drums his fingertips against Moana's shoulder.
“I can turn into monsters, too. Big ones, with fangs and tails and hooked claws, but I've always saved those for eating the sacrifices your ancestors threw at me.”
She scoffs fully into his face before pushing him away, and the demigod gives a childish snicker at that.
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Moana has never really put much thought into the prospect of relationships. Romantic relationships, really. She has her village, her people. How much fish the fishermen reel in each day, the coconut harvest, teaching children and in turn learning how to be a good leader. She has more important things to worry about other than chasing at the tails of some boy or girl, pinning for affection. Her parents respect this, and so they leave her alone.
Maui, not so much.
At every cast longing glance thrown in the girl's direction, every hesitant approach and stuttering word from her peers he is there, elbowing her side and letting out great roars of laughter. Teasing her relentlessly. She's seen this behavior before. In older siblings around the village, shoving playfully at their younger counterparts and crowing loudly over the ideas of crushes and 'young love.'
It's all harmless she knows, and the demigod's behavior would be cute in a way. If it weren't so positively infuriating.
But Moana does her best to ignore it so as not to encourage him, until the day comes when she's arranging trade negotiations with a neighboring village and she catches sight of one of the chief's daughters. Her hair is like a silky waterfall that curtains over her shoulders and her eyes are as rich as the earth's soil, and...
Oh. And she's staring.
There's a blush on her cheeks that is painfully obvious as she averts her gaze, turning her head to look at the sky or the trees or anything but her, so of course she locks eyes with the next worst possible candidate. Of course she does.
Maui's eyebrows furrow together as if he's untangling some great knot in the fishing net that is his mind, before realization crosses his features and his mouth stretches into a grin that threatens to split his entire head in two.
(Oh you've done it now I finally caught you. I caught you I caught you I caught you-)
Moana swallows.
Negotiations can't end soon enough, and as soon as they do future chief of Motonui turn tail and rushes immediately towards the canoes, hellbent on not speaking to a single soul until maybe a week or month from now and-
“Hey Mo'!”
He descends upon her like a hawk to a mouse, and her throat goes dry as she sees that he has dragged along the other chief's daughter, her eyes bright with excitement and clearly starstruck at the idea of meeting the Maui and Moana.
Moana can hear the gods laughing at her. One of them, specifically.
“-so anyways as I was saying I was talking to my good friend Nalani here and she was talking about how much she just loves fishing. And I thought 'gee Maui who else do you know that loves fishing?' Well my other good friend Moana! And, hey! She loves fishing, you love fishing. You both clearly have a ton in common and a lot to talk about so I'll just leave you to it!”
At several none too subtle elbows to the side and one blatant wink, She's ready to say her prayers and wave goodbye to life as she knows it. It was a good one. Not exactly long but hey it was nice before she fell victim to death via excruciating embarrassment.
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There's blood.
Dripping lazily down the side of his lip, and Moana doesn't even care to stifle the gasp that escapes her mouth. He raises a brow at his companion, expression unimpressed.
“What?”
“You're bleeding!”
It comes out more so as a loss of breath than an actual statement, all shock and hushed hesitancy as she reaches one hand to his face before halting. He swipes casually at his mouth and the palm of his hand comes away red. He glances at it before making a distinct 'Hmph.'
“Yeah. Bit my lip while sticking the landing from a flight around the island.” He turns to look at her, and his heavy hand (the one not painted red) plants itself firmly on her head and ruffles her hair. “Don't worry, small fry. I'm not gonna die.”
The girl sputters helplessly, searching for some explanation to excuse her behavior as he smirks in amusement.
“I thought- I mean....” Her fingers twist nervously around each other, “I-I didn't know that demigods could bleed.”
Maui shrugs.
“I mean, it happens. Not usually, though. It takes a lot.”
His face scrunches up as if he has suddenly tasted something terrible, and the expression is so comical that Moana can't help but giggle at his exaggerated offense.
“I'm almost insulted, actually. If I'm gonna bleed its gonna be from fighting some awesome monster or something not biting my lip. That's just lame. C'mon Mo' lets go find some giant snake or whatever so I can justify this.”
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“By all the gods, you're a complete mess.”
She's been working in the village the entire day, helping the farmers till their plots of land and sow their seeds. If how exhausted she feels is any indicator of what her exterior currently looks like, she has a fairly good idea of what Maui's staring at right now.
He holds up his hands as if calming some skittish beast, rolling his shoulders and grabbing the monstrous tangle that is Moana's thick dark hair. “Okay. Don't panic kid, I got this.”
She would've never expected such... henish behavior from him, but she also doesn't feel up to the task of wrestling with the knots in her hair, so for now the girl allows him to fuss over her in plain sight.
But if he starts licking his thumb and using it to wipe at the smudges of dirt on her face all bets are off.
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There's blood.
Thick black swathes of it spread over the ground, across the jagged rocks and alien flora that decorate Lalotai.
Moana's lying on the ground, eyes fluttering open. She doesn't quite remember what happened. Her head is spinning wildly and her entire body aches as she tries to force herself into a sitting position. She tries to move her right shoulder, and the resulting pain is unlike any that the girl has experienced before. Her teeth grit together in stubborn determination to prevent the shout that's threatening to escape her throat.
Moana turns her head to glance around, and there's pe'ape'a littering the space around her, all broken wings and grey fur matted with the same black oily blood smeared across the stone. Her head is still pounding but she remembers getting a few good hits on them, when they descended upon her like a great angry storm of eyes and snarling faces.
And then she looks up.
And there's something looming over the small woman, shape hulking and strange. Breath ragged. Coming from jaws lined with dagger-like fangs and tusks like that of a wild boar's. Hooked claws. A large thick mane of what looks like fur running down the length of its enormous neck.
She squints.
“Maui?”
It turns its head to look at her, and she's never seen so much fear and anger in something's eyes, before. And relief.
“Moana.”
There's black on his face and dripping off of his fur, ragged scratches marring the surface of his skin. But he's alive, and so is she. And he steps towards her, claws splayed out to reveal softer paw pads lining the underside of his warped hands-
And there's a chitter from somewhere off to the right of her, a shuffle of grey as a pe'ape'a shuffles to consciousness, and the demigod's monstrous face contorts into pure rage. The earth under Moana shakes as his paw slams into it, eliciting a startled cry from both her and the creature currently trapped between his claws. He lifts it off of the ground, bares his teeth and snarls, and there's no mistaking the pure unrestrained hatred in his eyes.
He's going to kill it.
Moana doesn't want to see this. And she looks around at the broken bodies littering the ground and it makes her stomach turn. For as much as she hates these things and how awful they can be she still doesn't want to see this.
“Maui, don't!”
His head whips around to meet her gaze. She's on her feet now, good hand wiping the grime from her eyes before clutching her damaged shoulder. Moana licks her lips, and tastes copper.
“Maui, let's go. Let's leave.”
The demigod's gaze hardens. Lips curl once more into a snarl that reveals rows of teeth, thick and serrated like a shark's.
“It was going to kill you.”
“It didn't. You don't have to kill it.”
“I want to.”
“Maui, please,” Her voice is steady, unwavering in the face of his anger, “this isn't you.”
This isn't him. This isn't the boisterous happy man that told stories to the village children and allowed them to climb all over him. This isn't the man that pestered her endlessly and fussed over her hair with as much zeal as her own mother. And she expects him to recognize that, to let the demon bat go and shape himself once more into the soft good natured Maui with the infectious smile that reached all the way up to his eyes.
But instead his lets out a bark of laughter, and it is a shrewd, dry sound.
“That's a real funny joke.” His grip on the creature tightens, and he squints balefully at her. “I am thousands of years old. I've been killing these things since before I pulled up the sky. Before your ancestors could even walk upright.”
He gestures to her. “You've known me in the blink of an eye. Shorter, even. What makes you think you know me better than me?”
He's scared. Moana can see it in the way his temper flares and deflects, how he tries to stand resolute, how he lashes out at her with such venom. He's angry and hurt and deeply, utterly, terrified.
But he's also right.
Because he's lived for ages and he will live for ages still, and she can't even begin to imagine the exploits that he must have had before her people even properly existed. The things he must have seen. The creatures he has surely killed.
How many versions of a person did you have to see, in order to truly, honestly know them?
Any sane person would be afraid. Shrink back and accept his word -a deity's word- as law and leave it at that. But she isn't. So she doesn't.
“Because you're my best friend.”
Because she cares for him as deeply as she cares for her island. For the ocean and her people and her mother and father. Moana takes a step forward.
“And I love you.”
And its true.
Because she still does.