AN: Here is your chapter two, Enjoy

Three days later, Moana found herself perched on top of the mast where she could make out the shores of her beloved home. She could not wait to reach her family, and despite the speed at which the craft could travel, she wished she could jump into the sea and swim to the shore. Her instincts were under the mis-impression that she could somehow get there faster that way. She found she had to force herself to focus on the water around the canoe, watching for shallows, shoals, or anything that would impede the progress of the vessel otherwise her thoughts would wander into her memories and make her more anxious for the journey's end.

Even still, she found herself imagining all the people she knew, and how they would react to her tales, all the places she had seen, all the people she had met, and all the adventures she had been on. Such thoughts were a distraction, but they eased the frustration at time's slow passing while simultaneously making her yearn for their arrival.

Though it seemed to take hours the canoe soon passed over the reef. As the canoe was still beaching itself in the sand of her childhood home, Moana had already leapt from the canoe and was running to meet her people. A large crowd had gathered on the beach awaiting the canoe and when they recognized her there were smiles every where. The air was filled with glad greetings and Moana could not help the tears that fell from her smiling eyes.

Out of the corner of her eye, Moana caught a familiar and very welcome face, and turned abruptly to throw herself into the arms of her mother. Her mother held her close in a fierce and welcoming hug. Her father soon joined them holding them both close to his heart and laying his cheek against the top of her head. She was back with her family and she didn't realize quite how much she missed them until this very moment when more tears sprang to her eyes.

Moana pressed her forehead to her mother's in joy at the reunion. The hongi was a greeting she hadn't shared much since her parents had returned to Montenui so long before. The feel and smell of her mother's breath brought back memories of her childhood when her mother was always right there with a ready hug and a smile. Turning to her father she and he shared the hongi as she heard the villagers of Pohnpei disembarking from the beached canoe.

Moana finally felt as if she had returned home. She had her parents and her island back, and no matter how long it had been it was still home. Some things may change, but this never would.

"Moana, we missed you so much," her mother spoke into her hair, holding her fast even as Moana and her father shared the hongi.

"Mom, Dad, I'm so glad to be back," Moana said as she pulled back to smile into the faces of her parents. "I have been to so many places and seen so many things. I have fought in battle, and helped with healing people who were sick. I was even able to save the lives of an entire island's people who had lost almost all their seeds and fruit to the darkness before it receded." She grinned and stood proud, no longer the child they had raised, nor the young wayfinder who had left the island. She was now a confident and strong adult, who knew who she was and what she could do.

"We know," her father said smiling proudly, "Many of the islands you have visited, have made their way here, eager to visit the home of 'The Wayfinder'."

Moana found her self blushing, she had rather hoped that they would not know that particular name of hers, it made her sound as if she is a figure from legend, whereas she was really only a girl who loved the sea. "Well, hopefully there are a few stories you haven't heard, yet" Moana said with a grin.

Her father smiled, and Moana was surprised to see a few extra wrinkles in his face that hadn't been there before.

As he turned to welcome the other islanders to their home and invite them to a feast, Moana took the time to study her parents. She had known they would be older, but their apparent age was a bit of a shock. Both were gray haired and slightly bowed. Much to her dismay, Moana found that her father was using a cane. Their faces were lined with the years they had lived and their eyes were tired.

Moana suddenly realized she had no real idea how long she had been gone. She had not felt the passing years. In fact she felt no different physically from when she had first left Montenui. Looking around at the villagers she was shocked to realize that she did not recognize a single face from among the youth of the village, and of the adults the only faces she knew were those of the older generations, some of the younger ones she could guess at, but it was a challenge to match the faces she had last seen on toddlers and infants with the people who already had their adult tattoos.

Moana suddenly felt the press of responsibility. She was supposed to be the next chief of Montenui. Those duties, apparently, should have begun years before, and she had not been here.

A hand clapping down on her shoulder brought Moana out of her thoughts in time to hear her father finish his welcome speech to their visitors, "and to welcome my daughter home from her travels, we shall feast and dance. Until then, do make yourselves comfortable, you are welcome to take your ease in the community fala. Shino will show you the way once you have secured you craft." With a brief nod to a young man whom Moana did not recognize, he turned and began to lead Moana and her mother back towards their home, never removing his hand from Moana's shoulder.

His pace was slower than she was used to. He had been ageless in her mind, strong and full of vitality. Until now he had been the same man who would so easily walk and run from the fishing grounds to the village to the coconut groves and back without even becoming short of breath. Though he was still vibrant in personality, his steps were shorter and slower, another sign of the passage of years that Moana hadn't even marked.

"Come Moana," her father said in an undertone, "your mother and I have some things to tell you." Moana glanced at him and wondered how much she had missed, and how much they had needed her. She expected her father's expression to be sad or stern, but though there was a serious edge to the tilt of his eyes, the smile was still easy upon his lips.

Moana found herself glad of the distraction worrying about the up-coming conversation brought. Otherwise she might have dwelt on the changes to the village itself. There were so many new buildings and so few of the familiar old structures still standing. Those familiar structures that were still standing showed signs of age that Moana noted with growing anxiousness. She was becoming more and more certain that something was wrong.

As they reached her parent's fala, her mother pushed aside the tapa fabric to grant them entrance to the cool shade found within. Her father made his way to the center of the structure and took a seat on one of the woven tapa mats with a groan. With a gesture, he indicated Moana was to take the mat in front of him, while her mother retrieved drinks.

Despite her trepidation as to what they were to speak of, she could not help but smile in relief to be out of the sun. She had spent very little time in the cabin aboard the canoe, and had not had the chance to sit in the shade since they had started off on their journey three weeks before. The coconut milk her mother provided her was also a very welcome relief. Moana took a moment to drink her fill, reveling in the fact that the rationing that was dictated by the voyaging had come to an end.

Her mother sat next to her father and lay a hand lightly upon his knee as Moana lowered her coconut to her lap. Her father sighed and took a drink from his own coconut before he spoke, "I always knew I could loose you to the sea, I just did not expect it to happen in quite this way." He began, looking at the floor between himself and Moana. Though a bit nervous about the subject, Moana was glad for her father's tendency to get right to the root of a problem rather than engaging in superficial small talk. "You were gone for so many years, and I was getting older. It was becoming too difficult for me to continue to do the duties of the chief, I had to hand those duties off." He glanced up and met Moana's eyes, "You weren't here, and we had no way of getting a message to you, nor did we know when we could expect you to return."

"We had so many visitors who would speak of you," her mother added, "you were doing so many amazing things. They spoke of you as one would a hero out of legend. How you taught them not only to sail, but to build their canoes. How you fought beside them and defended them. We knew you were still out there." Her mother's words were full of pride and her smile conveyed her love.

"After seeing all of that," her father continued when her mother paused, "how could you be happy as the chief of only one island." Here her father's voice stuttered and his smile dropped.

"I love Montenui," Moana began, but her father held up his hand halting her words.

"I will never doubt that. All the people you have directed here have brought us wonderful things: new foods, clothes and medicines." He smiled, but the smile was forced, "But I had to have a successor who was here."

Moana nodded and realized where this conversation was going. Someone else had been chosen to lead Montenui. Moana found that she was unsure how to feel on the matter. On one hand, she had been raised her whole life to take that responsibility, training from childhood to learn how things were done, how to balance the needs of her people verses their supplies, how to handle conflicts and fights. But as her father said, these responsibilities would need to keep her island-bound and her voyaging days would be limited to a trip here and there, limited to trade or quick lessons and not to the lengthy time she had been spending with each island to pass on all the things they needed to know. Both felt like such a calling to her, both were important, but she could not do both. But there were other wayfinders out there now, did she need to spend all that time away from home?

"I chose your sister in your place," her father continued, referencing Moana's sister Serfina. Serfina was three years younger than Moana and had been on the sidelines for most of her lessons. Though she had not been expected to excel she had still been learning the same material. She was even tempered and very smart, she also loved the island of Montenui.

It hurt though, loosing her position in the tribe. She had held the title of the next chief of Montenui for so very long that it had become part of who she was. She found the loss of the title jarring, but she could not argue her parents decision.

"Where is Serfina?" Moana asked looking around. As a matter of pride and tradition, her sister should have been part of the group welcoming their visitors. If her sister was now chief, she should have been the one giving the speech and inviting the visitors to the village.

"We had another visitor before you arrived and she was greeting him and getting him settled. We did not know you would be on the canoe we could see sailing in, but it was perhaps for the best that things worked out this way. I prefer to tell you myself of your change in circumstances rather than for you to find out when you see your sister wearing the chieftain's headdress." His grin was rueful as he could only imagine the hurt she would have felt to find out in such a manner.

Moana nodded and was about to respond when she heard footsteps approaching the Tala. Her parents and she turned in the direction of the sound to see Serfina push aside the tapa fabric, smiling when she saw Moana sitting before their parents. The smile was full of welcome, love and surprise, but colored with sudden trepidation. Serfina had never begrudged Moana the title of next chief, even when she did better at the studies than Moana had. Sefina loved the island but had no great love of the sea to pull her away, and had never understood Moana's desire to see what lay out there.

Moana smiled at her sister and jumped to her feet to envelop her little sister in a hug. Moana was so happy to see her sibling that she didn't even want to dwell on the chief's headdress her sister was wearing, or how her future had changed. All she cared about was holding her little sister tight and knowing she was well. She forced herself not to notice how her sister had aged. When she had left, her sister was solidly in her teen years, still fighting the acne and growing pains that were inevitable at that age. Now she looked to be only a little younger than the age their parents had been when she had left the island. Moana felt a chill run down her spine, exactly how long had she been gone?

Just to emphasize the point a small head peaked around her sister's skirt, shyly gazing up at Moana in a sort of cautious curiosity.

"Well hello little one," Moana smiled down at the child who promptly ducked out of sight once more.

Serfina glanced down with a loving smile, "This is my youngest, Loto." Moana tried not to be staggered by the phrase "youngest" she hadn't considered the idea that her sister would have married and had children. Loto appeared to be as old as four years old and he was her youngest? She herself did not feel old enough to even consider marriage or children. Moana was beginning to wonder if she had fallen asleep on the deck of the canoe and was simply having an incredibly surreal dream. "Loto, say hello to your auntie Moana."

From somewhere behind Serfina's skirt there was a mumbled response which may have been a quiet hello. Moana smiled and tried to hide her confusion and shock. "He's adorable. Your youngest you said?" Serfina nodded to Moana still smiling, the apprehension from early melting away at the subject of her family rather than her position. "How many children do you have?" She tried to make the question sound innocent, but even she could hear the edge of fear creeping into her voice.

"Four, my oldest is twelve, he's a real handful and has started to help with the fishing. I think there is a bit of his aunt in him. The only things he will sit still for are fishing and wayfinding lessons." Serfina smiled with pride in her oldest, but it began to slip as she really looked at Moana, "My god, you haven't aged a day!"

Moana stuttered and stared at her sister in shock. People had frequently been surprised when she introduced herself. She had often been mistaken for one of the young adults on the voyage, but she had blamed that on the fact that she had not yet received any tattoos to mark her transition into adulthood. She was also shorter than most of the women, even her sister had nearly a hands-width on her. She hadn't been around anyone who had known her in a very long time. She was always moving from island to island never staying in one place longer than it took to teach them what they need to know. The longest she had stayed with any group was the three years it had taken to build the large ship currently moored on the shores of Montenui. As a result no one had been in a position to know her age or comment if her apparent age and actual age differed. Moana was also unaccustomed to looking at her reflection, having better things to do with her time than consider her looks in the rare pool of still water she might find. Suddenly, she wished she had taken such time, for she had no idea what she looked like. "I don't know, good luck?" Moana shrugged trying to downplay all the strange things she was noticing since her return to her home.

Serfina looked as if she were assessing the answer, and considered challenging it, before deciding to let the question pass.

"Though I'd love to let you catch up with Mom and Dad, I think I should take you to meet our other guest," Serfina's smile held a sparkle of amusement that Moana found she had dearly missed. "With the two of you here we are in something of an odd position. I am not sure who should be the guest of honor."

"Oh? Who is the other guest?"

Serfina smiled a bit smugly, "This way," she said with a tilt of her head towards the entrance to the fala obviously refusing to name her other visitor. Then she turned and walked from the shaded interior of the fala and out into the mid-day sun.

AN: When doing the research for this chapter ran into issues with the Hongi. It is listed as both Honi and Hongi. I just rather liked the sound of Hongi better. Hongi is defined as a greeting, usually between good friends and family members in which they touch foreheads and breath of each other's breath.

Next chapter is already written and will be posted next Saturday.