I do not own the rights to Moana.

Happiness

We are more alike than you think my daughter. I see the way you look at me when you think I can't see—the disapproval in your eyes is only outshined by the longing for the ocean.

I know that look very well. I used to look at my father with it.

I bet you did not know that, but there is a lot you do not know. You do not know how hard it was for our ancestors to give up voyaging. Yes they hid the boats, but they did not destroy them. None of the chiefs have, because to destroy them would mean giving up our ways completely, and none could bare to do so.

Except me. I should have done it a long time ago after my mistake cost my friend's life. I should have done it the day you were born and you had the look in your eyes even then. I should have done it the first time you toddled off to the ocean. But I thought that by naming you Moana, you'd be content on Montunui and being the next chief.

I was wrong though, and by the time I realized what I should have done—what they all should have done—you were already gone. Do you have any idea of how cruel it is to lose your mother and daughter in the same day? If it wasn't for the Black Rot that seemed to become more and more of a threat to the island each day, I might have drowned in my grief.

I didn't speak to your mother for a week after. I claimed I was too busy trying to come up with other ways to feed our people—your people—which was true. But it was also because I knew what she would say. That you weren't me, and deserved a chance to find your own way and be happy, even if that sailing beyond the reef; that you thought it was the only way to save our people.

I knew it was what she'd say, because it was just the type of thing your mother would say. And sure enough, when she finally grew tired of my avoidance and corned me, she said just that.

With each day you were away, I felt my heart being chipped away piece by piece, until I was certain that nothing would be left and I would never be happy again. Days turned into weeks and then months. The only thing that kept my mind occupied was dealing with the Black Rot for it was getting worse and worse.

I was running out of ideas and ways to keep our people alive for it was destroying the food we planted and our reservoirs were almost low. We were being forced to slaughter more and more of our livestock—don't worry, Pua would have been saved for last, though Heihei should consider it lucky that he left with you—and even they too were getting sicker and weaker. Not only had the Black Rot chased away the fish and crept onto our cliffs, but it had invaded the water, clinging to our boats and preventing them from sailing very far, even with the strongest wind pushing them forward. Even if we wanted to leave the island, we no longer could. We were trapped.

Then one day, it was gone as if it had never been there at all. Crops sprung up overnight, the fish came back in droves, and we had a great feast to celebrate. There was much to celebrate that night except one thing—you weren't there. Your mother made the comment that it was you we had to thank, and we should be thankful to the gods for it meant you were still alive. But how could I be thankful when you were still gone?

But you came back, and my heart seemed full once more, swelling to a size I had forgotten it could be. You came back with stories about Maui, returning the heart to Te Fiti who had actually been Te Ka, and instructions on how to make our people voyagers once more.

Every time you mentioned the danger you put yourself into, my heart twinged in fear—even when you were sitting right in front of me safe in sound, proof that you made it through okay—but it also twinged in envy, for accomplishing what I had once dreamed of but thought was too dangerous and impossible. The envy never lasted long though, for it would quickly be overridden with pride for your deeds.

And here we are, about to set sail once more, doing what our ancestors were once famous for. I suppose it was a good thing I didn't burn the boats after all. I do not know what lays ahead for us, but I am sure that whatever it is, we will face it together.

For that is where happiness truly lies. Not with where you are, but with the people you are with—and there's nobody I'd rather be with than my daughter.

Author's Note

I'd like to thank Pen-Always-In-Hand for the review. Glad to know I wasn't the only one bothered and had that theory. I agree, the movie would have been better if they would have showed a little something indicating that was the case, or even Moana trying to give it back to Gramma Tala to save her, only for her to reject it. Just something to acknowledge why she suddenly collapsed and died.

After dumping on Tui for the last two chapters, I felt like he needed his own for a bit of redemption. The movie also never really showed what happened after Moana left. How did her father react to her leaving, and her mother not stopping her? To losing her and his mother in the same day? To what was happening to his people? What happened when Moana returned the Heart? Also, the movie just called the black stuff the 'darkness' but I felt like it needed a better name, hence Black Rot.

Next chapter is from the POV of one of the shipbuilders when the decision is made to stop voyaging and seal up the boats.