Manawa — Te Fiti, and the familiar pain of loving mortals.
Summary: The humans thought that where Te Fiti ended, Te Ka began. They didn't know it was the other way around.
[I clearly don't own Moana, or anything to do with Polynesian mythology. Cover image is by helenbucher on Instagram and Pinterest. Go check her out, y'all.]
.
.
.
For a long, long time, she sleeps.
No, 'sleep' would be wrong. She is quiet; lying peacefully, knowing this (her) world is in balance. Her heart, that tiny stone, pulses softly and she revels in the life only it and she can create. She is content to feed this world's core with soul and it, in return, writhes, flourishes under her care.
She feels every rustling leaf, every quivering flower, and she is at peace.
(Young as she was, she foolishly believed this era of tranquility would last forever.)
.
.
.
For millennia, she remains in her solitude, but never feels lonely. She guides the smallest of flowers towards the sun, and gently pushes fish into the correct currents of her old friend, the Ocean. No, she could never feel lonely. (She wouldn't.)
Then, of course, came the mortals.
Blinking, stumbling their way into the light; how could she resist? She builds their first shelters, watches them create fire and sees a spark enter their eyes as well. Slowly, pity turns to affection, affection to love, and she whole-heartedly accepts the change.
They too, care for her, idolise her, and she can't bring herself to reject such devotion (because she has definitely not been lonely for too, too long). Te Fiti, they call her, and she can sense the reverence in the name.
She likes it.
There are few to begin with, then slowly their numbers increase. She is fascinated by these new creatures, the young, the old, the strong, and the frail, as they bloom. (Sooner or later, all things do, under her hand.)
The Ocean seems equally taken by the mortals. They haltingly try to step within its shallows, and squeal when it encircles them, beckoning them closer. To their credit, the little ones embrace this strange entity with all their endearing naivety. Then and there, she swears to herself, she will always protect these beings from any harm, so long as she wears the name they gave her.
Te Fiti is not just caring of this new life, she is proud.
(She cannot see how blind they are making her, how they mindlessly trample and kill for their own benefit. No, Te Fiti's good, Te Fiti's heart, prevents her from seeing her own downfall.)
.
.
.
Te Fiti's frown is a foreboding sight to the mortals, so she hides it from them. However, both she and the Ocean can sense the tension in the earth; the gods hiding their fear of these new beings with anger. There are rumours, they warn her, of an upstart, a human-born demigod, blessed by them, intent on stealing her heart for the mortals.
Her frown disappears and she laughs, like the carefree young woman she is, at such a ridiculous notion, for the mortals would never do such a thing. They love her, and she loves them.
(Somewhere, a boat approaches.)
.
.
.
The sky is dark when it is taken.
She slumbers, dreaming of souls, spirits and the pitter-patter of small feet on her island. She does not feel the waves crashing on her shores, the storm her good friend is creating to warn her, to scream wake up, it's true, it's coming, please wake UP—
She does not see the boy walking on her island, hook in hand, a proud grin on his face. She does not see him staring at her heart, with wonder, with hope, with greed.
Her eyes remain closed, till he starts pulling.
Green eyes snap open, and she looks down at this oh-so-little creature trying to steal her heart. In her pain-fuelled haze, she sees him as one of her mortals, one of her children, and she cannot help the anguished, betrayed moan that leaves her mouth.
The noise startles the little thief, and all the other living beings on the island. Birds shriek, flying out of their trees, butterflies are shaken out of their nests, and the humans rush to her.
Now seeing the thief for what he is, an ungrateful little half-blood, she nearly sags with relief as her children, her true children surround them. She is about to smile at them in gratitude for their concern, when she sees them standing around, not meeting her eyes.
She is confused, and the pain is increasing because the thief won't stop pulling and the realisation hits her.
They will not help.
They do not care for her.
They never did.
Big, fat, tears, each easily the size of one mortal, begin rolling down her face, as she cries out once more, the full force of their betrayal hitting her. Her eyes never leave them, as she desperately wills them to answer the question in her eyes. Why?
The pain is near unbearable now, as the heart is almost entirely removed. The demigod keeps his eyes on his target, refusing to look up at the goddess he is about to destroy, about to murder. She wants so desperately to defend herself, protect herself, but she remembers her oath. She must honour it, even for a half-mortal.
The Ocean told her once, long ago, that her greatest virtue will be her most fatal flaw. She ignored it then.
In her last conscious moments, she finally listens. In her mind (for she has no heart anymore), she holds nothing but contempt for the mortals, and she renounces her name.
She is no longer Te Fiti, and she is no longer bound by a worthless promise.
.
.
.
When she wakes, she doesn't even know for how long she slept. She looks at this island, and she should feel something, remember something, but she doesn't.
All that's left is ash, rock, and a bitter taste in her mouth.
She looks at her hands, staring at the bubbling, pulsing magma.
(This is wrong, so, so wrong, it should be green, there should be flowers, what is this, please let me out, stop, where is my heart, where are my children, please let me OUT—)
She screams; a horrible, demonic, painful sound, and it sends waves through the ocean. The treacherous (weak) inner voice is silenced.
She crawls over to the water's edge, and gazes at the ocean. She looks at her reflection on its surface.
A humanoid form of boiling rock, smoke copiously being emitted from everywhere, cracks running up and down her arms, and two blank sockets for eyes, filled with lava.
It should be in Lalotai, she thinks. It's the first conscious thought she's had.
A tendril of water suddenly rises, as if in greeting, surprising her. A glowing green gem is suspended in the liquid, and she is entranced. She hesitantly raises her finger to receive it—
She hisses violently, steam pouring of the injured digit. She turns, shrieks once again, and whips her head back round accusingly. The ocean shrinks back, confused.
This is the enemy, she thinks. It hurt me.
I'll hurt it back.
She flings globs of lava and semi-solid rock towards the ocean, more and more smoke polluting the air in her rage. When she sees that the projectiles have no effect on her adversary, she screams, the loudest one yet, and slams a fist into the water.
With a wheeze, she hastily holds the hand to her (still too empty) chest, cradling it as the exterior solidifies. She experimentally flexes her hand, and the cooled rock cracks to reveal another layer of red-hot magma.
It's endless, a voice inside her says. There's nothing but dead, burning rock.
With a strangely blank feeling, she retreats back to the island, ignoring the water completely.
The Ocean's spirit withdraws, leaving its once-friend with nothing but a smouldering hand, and something that is definitely not loneliness.
.
.
.
The Ocean eventually finds the demigod. In a wild rage, a tsunami carries the semi-conscious boy and flings him onto the shores of some other godforsaken island. (The Ocean hates this type of island already, but it hates Maui more.)
The Ocean grieves for its lost friend, and for the heartless creature left in her place. It couldn't even return the heart which so rightly belonged to her. The Ocean cannot hate the mortals its friend so dearly loved, but this thing is not mortal.
No, only half.
So the half-blood is abandoned on an island, with no hook, no powers, and no company.
The Ocean feels no regret.
(At least until the Chosen One comes along.)
.
.
.
She curls in on herself, lying on the island like an infant. If she wanted to cry (even though she definitely doesn't), she wouldn't be able to anyway. Some time ago (seconds and years all seem the same to her now), a demigod attacked.
She swatted him like a fly, of course, but the rest of the details are… hazy. She didn't remember much after the red mist descended.
There was a name… he called her Te Ka.
She curls in tighter.
.
.
.
He returns much later, with a girl who pulses with as much life as someone else did. (Those memories are long gone.)
They have the audacity to try and reach her island, but ultimately fail, like all the others before them. Still, as Te Ka slams a hand down on the demigod's weapon, she notices a difference.
The Ocean helps them.
.
.
.
The bitter taste in her mouth returns.
.
.
.
Te Ka is bitterly astonished at the girl's return, this time without the demigod (although she senses he is not far). The little one has a determined grimace on her face, and Te Ka fights the urge to smile. (This girl is the enemy.)
She shrieks and rapidly flings melting boulders at the mortal, but the little one seems to have more grit than in their last encounter, and this time, Te Ka does grin.
Even after the half-blood finally appears, and she destroys his hook with no small amount of satisfaction, the girl looks at Te Ka with no fear.
Only understanding, and that is something Te Ka doesn't understand. She screams as the Ocean parts for her, and she desperately crawls towards the girl because who does she think she is—
It vaguely registers in some part of her mind that this is the first time she has ever left her island (as Te Ka).
Finally, she reaches the girl, with her peaceful, understanding words and eyes that are wiser than they should be, and Te Ka suddenly feels far, far too old.
She has spent too long in a wild haze of fury and vengeance, and for once, she'd like to be home. To be herself.
The stone is returned to her chest, and Te Fiti is reborn.
.
.
.
Dictionary:
Manawa — Maori for heart, patience and breath. Just thought it was fitting.
Lalotai — The Realm of Monsters according to Polynesian mythology. It's in the movie.
.
.
.
Author's Notes:
Sup y'all. I rewatched the movie today and decided why not lmao. Te Fiti and the Ocean are my brotp for this movie I will fight you on this. This is the first and probably last time I'll write something for the 'Spiritual' genre, but I kinda like it. I think.
Not entirely sure is 'Manawa' actually means what I was going for; I just listened to the internet. If there's an error, feel free to let me know.
As I said at the top, the cover art is done by helenbucher on Instagram and Pinterest, so go check her out please and thank you.
So if you liked this, a review would not go unappreciated. If you didn't, you can still review telling me how terrible I am. Whatever works, my dudes.