Author's Note: I got an unexpected evening to myself tonight. I got home earlier than usual from work and discovered that my husband had gone out to play Magic the Gathering with some friends. What's a poor, lonely newlywed to do but curl up in bed, turn on the Moana soundtrack and write some fanfiction? The only thing missing here is a glass of wine, but I've been fully sober for a year now, and so I'll have to make do with a hot chocolate instead.

And now, back to our story.

Chapter Three

Three days later, her entire body aching and sore, Moana emerged from the Tohunga's home, led by her mother and leaning on her father's arm.

"Ow," she mumbled, wincing. "Ow, ow, ow ow ow ow owwww. I can't...ugh, even breathing is hard."

"It's...very unusual for someone to get several years' worth of moko all done in the same sitting," admitted her father, shaking his head and looking impressed.

Moana's mother laughed. "You are, without a doubt, your father's daughter, Moana. Neither of you do anything by halves."

Moana just groaned and straightened up as best she could, trying not think about the incredible pain in her everything.

"Right," she muttered. "Well, uh...assuming I can still sit up straight in the boat, I gotta get going. I've wasted too much time already. Ugh, maybe we should tie me to the mast, or something? My...my poor back."

The Tohunga, everyone had agreed, had done incredible work. Across Moana's back now stretched the sails of a great canoe, decorated with the shapes, stripes, and braided bands of her people, the same ones her father and his father before him had worn in their own tattoos. There were manta rays too, each with wings outstretched, swimming across both of Moana's shoulders; permanent reminders etched in her skin of her beloved grandmother, Tala.

Moana's face was, as of yet, mostly untouched, except for the stylistically chiseled fishhook that curved around the brow of her left eye. That tattoo was honestly the one of which Moana was the most proud. While the others were all links to her past, all signs of her connection to her family and her ancestors, the fishhook was for Moana alone; a reference to her own, individual identity, and a symbol of what she, Moana of Motunui, had given to her people.

It also stung so badly that her vision was blurry, which made her just a little nervous about trying to sail.

Several of the villagers of Motunui were already clustered around the beach when Moana arrived. They were carrying sacks of provisions and extra ropes, beaming encouragingly at their limping Chief as she made her way to the canoe.

Aware that she was center of all available attention, Moana plastered a confident, hearty smile on her face, trying not to look any of her people in the eye.

"Moana," murmured her mother, placing a hand on Moana's shoulder. "No one is going to force you to do this. If you don't' want to go, you don't have to. No one will think any less of you; certainly not me or your father. You've already had plenty of adventures for one lifetime. You don't have to force yourself to have any more."

Moana looked around at the happy villagers, comforted by their certainty that their Moana would save their island just the way she'd done before. As far as they were concerned, with Moana at the helm, everything was under control.

Then Moana thought of Maui, shackled to the walls of his underworld prison.

"Actually," she sighed, nodding to herself, "I...I do have to go. D-don't worry. I got this. Everything's going to be fine."

Nevermind that I have absolutely no idea how to get to Rarohenga, she thought desperately to herself, or that I don't have a clue how I'm going to talk the goddess of the underworld out of taking her anger out on Maui AND all the surrounding islands once I do get there. Yeah, this is going to go great. Everything's absolutely under control. Sure.

"Okay," whispered her mother, leaning in close to Moana's ear. "But, in that case, try not to look as though you're panicking quite so much, hmmm?"

Moana blinked, looked up into her mother's eyes, and saw that same, unnecessarily bright, just slightly uncomfortable smile plastered on her mother's face; the same smile she knew she herself was wearing.

"Mom," said Moana. "I'm...I'm really sorry."

Moana's mother opened her mouth to reply, but her father just shook his head, holding up a hand to forestall whatever was about to be said.

"Never apologize," he murmured. "We are...so very proud of you, Moana of Motunui."

Moana reflected, as she stepped into the canoe and watched the aching hearts etched in her parents smiles, that love was something far more complicated and painful than maybe she'd ever realized before.

She kept watching and waving to them until the sea had taken her boat so far from the shore that all she could make out were their shapes, and those of her still-waving people, all lined up on the beach to see her off.

Night fell, and then daybreak came. Before Moana knew it, she was alone on the sea for the first time since she could remember. Even on that first voyage, when she'd risked everything to go searching for the demigod who could help her save the world, Heihei had been there to amuse her and to keep her company. Now, it was only her, and the night, and the water that was far, far too silent.

"Look," Moana mumbled to the sea, even if she couldn't be sure it was listening, "we're going to have to work together, here, okay? I know, you and I have been having a hard time getting along lately, and it sounds like maybe Hine-nui-te-po's got you in her corner, but think about it, seriously. How's that going to work out for you, in the long run? I mean, you like it when we humans sail to find new islands, don't you? Well, if she kills us all off because she's lovesick for Maui, who do you think is going to do the sailing? Right? Exactly. Nobody. So, I mean, it's in your best interests and mine for you to help me get where I'm going. I'll save Maui, we'll save the village, everything will go back to the way it was and you'll go back to being the calm, peaceful, non-lethal, non-murderous endless body of water that you used to be. Wasn't that more fun than being an instrument of death and destruction? I think so, right?"

The sea didn't respond, or even seem to have heard. Moana sighed.

"Honestly...I still can't get over the idea of anyone being 'lovesick for Maui.' Just saying that out loud sounds kinda weird," she admitted. "I mean, sure, okay, it's not like there's anything wrong with him. He's a hero, absolutely. He's a pretty nice guy, too, when you think about it, but…"

Moana tried to imagine the beautiful goddess of the dead fawning all over Maui, the same man who'd once tricked Moana into not following the current by relieving himself off the side of the boat while she'd dutifully dangled her hand in the water.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I don't know. Maybe he's just not my type."

She wondered suddenly how long Maui had been trapped in Rarohenga, and realized with a pang of guilt that it could have been weeks, even months now since she'd seen her favorite giant hawk in the skies above her village.

"I...guess I didn't notice," she muttered to herself. "But I mean, it's not like it's my job to know where Maui is all the time. He can take care of himself just fine, right? He's been taking care of himself for thousands of years, except for that time when he stole the heart of Te Fiti and got trapped pretty much forever on an island in the middle of the sea, or the time when he almost got eaten by Tamatoa and I had to create a diversion to save him, and also the time when he almost got turned into a scorched patch of sand by Te Ka…"

Daydreaming about Maui and tracing her fingers in the water to locate the currents, Moana drifted along with the sea for a while, lost in thought.

"I...I really need to find him," she sighed eventually. "But how the heck am I supposed to find a mysterious underworld realm that not even my grandmother ever talked about? Is there an entrance on an island somewhere; one that humans aren't supposed to find, like the entrance to Lalotai? Maybe it's in a cave, or something; I mean, that would make sense. It's not like we have any landmarks, though, right? I mean...the only thing I know about Rarohenga is that…"

She trailed off, because something was happening to the sea all around her canoe. The sun was now glistening on the water, turning the waves into beautifully shimmering peaks and valleys that rose and fell in and out of the light and shadow.

"A deceptively beautiful place," Moana whispered to herself, remembering the story her father had told her about Chief Mataora and his trip to the underworld. "Bright...full of lights and many colors."

The sea beneath her swayed, swelling and almost seemed to nod at her before falling away again.

"I...I get it," gasped Moana. "No, I had it all wrong. Rarohenga isn't a world under the ground. It's a world under the sea…"

As if in response to Moana's statement, the ocean suddenly surged up all around her, turning her boat gently until it pointed in the direction where Maui's fishhook had hung in the night sky only hours before.

"H-huh?" Moana wobbled a little bit, but managed to stay upright in the canoe. "That way? Great…thank you SO much. I appreciate it."

She struck out for the point that the ocean had indicated, relieved at having some kind of direction. She was only slightly disappointed that the ocean didn't seem to be interested in helping to propel her along as it had years ago. After all, Moana was now a renowned wayfinder in her own right. Naturally, she reminded herself, she didn't need any help sailing.

It was only that her arms ached terribly, and, if she was being honest with herself, she wouldn't have minded a chance to sit back and nap for a bit. She wouldn't have minded at all…but she certainly wasn't going to admit that ,not even to the sea.

Author's End Note:

…aaaand right on cue, David is home. Time to put my computer away and pretend I've been busy doing important things and not slacking off all night. Pleasant dreams, everyone, and thank you for reading!