His makeshift lavalava of leaves had long since been upgraded to one of cloth woven with scarlet and gold threads, and Maui toyed with the fabric between his large calloused fingers as the mortals around him conversed. It was not his first experience with a council meeting by far, but the dealings of humans always made him feel a bit out of place. His crossed legs bounced with pent up energy, antsy and seeking release.

The halau in which they sat was obviously freshly built, and the smell of fresh bark and bamboo tweaked his nose. The ceiling was low, and Maui found he had to duck when entering to avoid cracking his head against the rafters. The walls were bare of any tapestries or decorations; he figured that they hadn't gotten around to creating them yet.

"This island is cursed," one of the men stated boldly. "The eels have been scaring away the fish. When the fisherman bring in their traps, nothing but eels and lamprey. The streams are black and thick with their slithering bodies."

Some of the men murmured in agreement.

"But we can eat the eels," another man argued. "I'd rather have an abundance of one fish than no fish at all."

A few of the others nodded.

"It is not a good omen. Eels are the crop of Te Tuna-roa."

Maui's eyes flicked at hearing the name.

"But so are coconut trees," a villager argued. "And they are the most important thing we could have."

"The tremors… what if we have angered Pele?" another villager piped. "This may be her domain.

"The island does not want us here, Ali'i," a woman to Moana's right side whispered somberly.

The chieftess stared at a spot on the floor in front of where she knelt on her knees. Everyone was waiting for her opinion, her declaration– but she wanted to be sure absolutely before she made a decision.

"The boats." She tilted her head up to address her peers. "They're not ready."

"Then we should take the ones are that ready," a man replied.

Moana turned to a young man seated on her left side.

"Napo, how many canoes do we have?"

The man's eyes trailed towards the ceiling, mentally calculating. "Four… maybe five if we can complete the rigging."

Moana nodded thoughtfully. Contemplating. "That is enough for half of the village. How much time do we need to complete the remaining vessels?"

The man called Napo once again looked distant. "About… six or seven months."

"You don't have that much time," Maui boomed suddenly, rising to his feet. He towered easily over the small circle of mortal men and women. It was unlike him to speak up in a council concerning the affairs of humans, but he knew that a volcanic event would only end in tragedy. He had seen it before.

The room went quiet. The demigod continued speaking.

"When Pele's dance begins, you've got a month, maybe two, before she blows her top."

A hushed gasp rippled through the ring in response. Maui turned to face Moana, his eyes still as dark as they had been earlier.

"You should leave immediately. Save who you can."

Moana jumped to her feet.

"You could help us," the young chieftess breathed. She dared to look the immortal directly in the eye. The council around them only watched on in stunned silence.

Moana spun on her heels, arms outstretched. "With the help of Maui the Shapeshifter, we could complete the canoes that we need in no time at all!"

The aforementioned demigod's face scrunched dangerously. His voice was a low timbre– a warning.

"It's like I said. Leave immediately. Save who you can. Leave the rest behind." He narrowed his eyes further. "Or else everyone in this village will perish."

Moana's face fell. "So, you won't help?"

Maui shook his head with finality. Without so much as a second glance at the terrified faces that stared up at their once-hero in awe, Maui turned on his extraordinary heel and exited the hut, throwing the flimsy curtain out of his way with purpose.

"Maui!" Moana half-yelled, half-whined as she chased after him, her face and chest flushed scarlet with anger.

Moana followed after Maui to the clearing where she had first found him earlier that day.

"Maui! Maui, wait!"

Maui pauses in his steps and held up a large hand to stop her. "Save your breath, kid. I can't help you."

"Why not?" Moana rounded his massive stature until she was standing in front of him; her posture easily gave away how righteously pissed off she was. She stood defiant, fists on her hips, staring up at the demigod as though he were nothing more than her equal. The single strap of her cowry-shell embellished bandeau slipped off her sun-kissed shoulder from the effort of her breathing.

Little Maui tugged on his master's ear, pointing to his tattoo of Moana. He ignored the gesture.

"I can't hang around mortals. It's not good for my reputation," Maui replied coolly, absentmindedly brushing some dirt off of his forearm. "Besides, even with me on your side there's no guarantee you'd beat the odds. You're better off loading up whatever ships you do have ready to go, and sailing off into the sunset without looking back."

"That's it, then?" Moana huffed.

"Yup. I suppose that's it."

The hurt caused by his callous words was evident on the young woman's face as her tense muscles slackened, unclenching her fists as her expression softened to one of disappointment and disbelief; it tugged at Maui's heartstrings to see the damage he had done, but he stayed rigid.

"My people will die without your help," Moana said sadly; there was a bitter bite to her tone that Maui knew was reserved just for him. "I thought thy you loved mortals. I thought that you wanted to be their hero. But I guess I was wrong. You only care about yourself. That's why you haven't come to see me in years."

Frustrated, Moana groaned and flung her arms upward. A wetness pricked at her eyelashes and– before she could hide her face– the tears began falling, and the usually strong-willed chieftess was ashamed at herself for crying over something so trivial. Part of becoming a woman, she supposed; her emotions had begun to ebb and flow like the tide as of late. The worst part was that Moana knew that she was being unreasonable; Maui had no commitment to her. No real reason to visit her as often as she'd like. They were friends, yes, but he existed in a realm entirely different from her own. He had his own life to live, and she had hers. How could she expect him to hang around mortals on a whim? He must find them– must find her– so incredibly boring.

Perhaps it just pained Moana the most to know that he hadn't missed her nearly as much as she had missed him. The thought caused even more fresh tears to flow forth from her eyes.

Her snap caught Maui by surprise and he raised a curious eyebrow in response.

"Oh, come on now. You won't snare me with those crocodile tears," he scolded, cringing at his own harshness before the words had finished leaving his mouth. Truly, he hated to see her cry. The massive demigod sighed and rubbed his face with the palm of his proportionally massive hand, feeling his soft spot for the young woman grow just a teeny bit softer at seeing her in such a way.

"Mo, you gotta understand. Time passes differently for me. I know you think that a few years is a long time, but for me it only feels like I haven't seen you in a week. I haven't been… I mean... I wasn't avoiding you on purpose."

And then, a phrase the demigod almost never, ever uttered in his entire existence escaped his lips: "I'm sorry."

The weeping chieftess stopped suddenly and peeked at him from behind darkened, dampened lashes. Her sparkling eyes were rimmed with red.

"Did Maui... Shapeshifter, Demigod of the Wind and Sea... just apologize for making a mortal cry?"

"There she is," Maui cooed. She had, of course, forgotten to add "Hero of Men and Women" again, but he decided that now was probably not the best time to correct her.

Moana was still staring at him in disbelief. Little Maui was preoccupied with punching and biting the real demigod's collarbone, trying to get him to budge. Annoyed, Maui flicked him to somewhere on his back.

He supposed that he could stay for an extra day or two. What could be the harm in a little extended visit? Besides, seeing Moana after so long apart… well, he couldn't deny that he didn't want to part from her again so soon.

He sighed a heavy sigh. "Fine. I'll stay."

"You'll what?" Moana sniffed.

"I'll stay," he grumbled. "I'll help your people build their canoes."

Moana's eyes glinted. "You'd really do that for them?"

Maui pumped a fist over his pectorals in response.

"On my honor as a demigod."

In the blink of an eye, Moana was wrapping herself around him, squeezing him in gratitude. It caused Little Maui to do a cartwheel; it caused Big Maui to swallow thickly. The swell of her breasts cramped against his abdomen, heating the skin there, but she remained blissfully unaware of the way that she affected him.

"Thank you, Maui. Thank you. You have no idea how much this will mean to them."

"You're welcome," he replied, but he knew that he wasn't doing it for them; he was doing it for her.

Moana pulled away and wiped at her face with her fingertips, her sad expression quickly replaced with an optimistic smile.

"This is wonderful. This is– agh, this is just the best thing ever! We'll have to celebrate. We'll have a feast tonight. You can stay in my hut. As a guest of the chief, you can sleep–" Moana paused her excited rattling abruptly, as though a thought had just occurred to her for the first time. "You do sleep, don't you?"

Maui bellowed at her question, a hearty laugh that came from his belly. Mortals were so cute sometimes.

Especially this one, Little Maui nudged.

"A real way-finder never sleeps," he teased. "But first, I have some business to take care of."

With a screech and a crack, Maui transformed into his hawk form and flew off, leaving Moana behind on the ground.

The chieftess returned to the village, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She took her time to qualm the fears of each and every individual villager who approached her seeking answers, explaining that Maui would help them, and with the master seafarer's help they'd repair the necessary boats in no time at all.

The sun had begun to set, and the line where the sky met the sea burned a fiery orange. It was one of Moana's favorite times, when the day burned away to night, and the glittering stars that danced atop the water during the daytime moved to sit in the sky.

Moana felt as though they could do anything– as though she could do anything– with Maui by her side.