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Chapter Text

Matangi had known there would be consequences to her aiding Maui and his mortal friend, Moana the Wayfinder. What those consequences might have been, she had dared not think, fearing that even the notion of a thought would put it into motion. Even still, she had never expected this when Nalo roped her wrists in lightning chains. She had not expected to be dragged from the stone pillars she’d missed for so long, having been caged deep beneath the ocean in that clam’s belly. She had not expected such cruelty.

And Nalo was a cruel god. She knew that from the moment she called his name millennia ago, and she knew it now as she curled into herself, lost in his new prison. Within the clam, Matangi was accompanied by her flying foxes and the strange beasts that called its body home. There were stone formations and algae and proof that the world still moved. Now she was trapped within a never ending storm. Alone.

Roaring clouds darker than the blackest nights whipped in violent curls just out of reach. Nalo’s unnatural purple lightning sparked at her heels no matter which direction she walked, even if her feet never graced solid ground. Nalo even stole Matangi’s ability to keep herself company; his booming thunder and pounding rains drowned her voice to the point it was as if she had never spoken at all.

Nalo was truly the cruelest of the gods.

When Matangi first found herself here, she was enraged. She screamed and screeched, her voice having always been the most piercing of the gods, but Nalo too was booming and powerful. Her words never met his ears, let alone left her throat. Next she sought an exit. She wandered for hours (days? minutes?) in a single direction. The pumice beneath her feet repeated the same pattern every two steps, and the only true change was the curls in the storm clouds that trapped her within her Matangi sized cage. Once, she traveled from the solid ground up into the storm. The storm swallowed the rock immediately and gifted her anxiety in return.

What if she never found ground again?

Would she float aimlessly in Nalo’s wrath for all eternity?

Which direction had she been traveling?

Her cries only forced out thunderous waves that ripped through her eardrums. In a fit of desperation, she let go of her hold and gravity snatched her up. Matangi collapsed into a pathetic heap upon the pumice floor after falling barely three feet. Silent tears of relief streamed down her cheeks, plopping just as silently upon the rock. Matangi’s toes never left the ground after that. If Nalo could see her, his chest would swell with laughter and pride, having finally clipped the Bat Lady’s wings.

Chapter Text

Rounding up humanity and the handful of demigods and gods who enjoyed humanity had been difficult. Torturous even. But Moana was tenacious and, if nothing else, a great motivator. Leading the charge and finally subduing Nalo’s forces had been hellish. It was the most difficult task that had ever been placed before her, but she completed it as she had twice before.

With a track record like hers, one would expect that finding one lesser goddess would be the easiest task of her life. One would be wrong. Nothing that came from Nalo’s mind and power was easy. So when the god, already knowing he was on the verge of defeat, boasted the consequences of the fledgling demigod’s quest, Moana paled.

Matangi was but a blip in her story. Just ask Moni. He’d only painted her once, and that image was frightening, but only because Maui ranted about his time entangled in her trap. The gods who had assisted her gave little thought to rescuing one of their own. Matangi was a lesser god after all, one that had not been seen for millennia already. Moana’s people pointed out that Matangi was a goddess. She must have known what she was doing.

Cheers and laughter and fire light painted the joyous occasion of Nalo’s imprisonment. Pounding drums electrified the air, almost a mockery of the storm god's thunder, as villagers lept to move with the music. Maui had been showing off his dance moves to the boys who had perfected ‘hair flips’ while her mother taught Simea a new dance, not twenty feet from him. The evening had started as a remembrance for all who were lost and good wishes to health for those who had been injured, but now it was only broad smiles and good food.

They were all free, but Moana’s chest still ached. Her smile was tense and the light in her eyes dimmed. The Storm God’s chains were nowhere near the torturing existence he supposedly subjected the Bat Lady to. The beach was dark compared to the village, even as the moon and stars shined brightly overhead. The ocean pushed up onto the sand and receded just as fast. Moana breathed in time to the waves, hoping the ache would fade on its own.

It did not.

Emerging from the darkness was a most familiar sight: a manta ray of pure spiritual light swam from the depths of the reef to the sandy shallows Moana stood. Relief flooded her body as she collapsed into Gramma’s waiting arms.

“Why are you not celebrating?” Gramma’s mischievous grin told Moana the woman already knew, “You defeated the Storm God Nalo and saved humanity from doom.”

“Gramma,” Moana choked back her words, “I feel guilty.”

“Of course. Nalo may be defeated, but not all is well just yet. Am I right?” Her shimmering eyes coaxed out all Moana felt.

“We.. I… there was a woman who we abandoned after she helped us. She’s in agony if Nalo can be believed,” Moana pulled back from Gramma, rubbing the wetness from her eyes. Gramma cradle her hands and rubbed soothing circles in them.

“Nalo is many things, but a liar he is not. A dark cloud on the horizon will always drop its rain.”

The force of will that made Moana, Moana marched back onto her face. Gone were the wary glances and indecisive draw of her lips. “Then I will find her and break her chains.”

Pride lifted Gramma’s shoulder’s as she guided their foreheads together. “My granddaughter is such a brave and kind young woman.”

Love softened Moana’s smile as her gramma melted back into the water. Her eyes fluttered open to watch the final trails of light of Gramma’s spirit form swim away. Minutes later, she followed her Gramma with a stocked canoe.

…

Within 24 hours, Maui had landed upon her craft and demanded to know where she was headed. It didn’t take long for his worried glares to smooth away into acceptance and determination. It was a rescue mission, after all.

Weeks had gone by since then and, at long last, they had discovered an island made entirely of pumice. The island itself was nothing write home about, being so small one could barely call it an island, more like a terrifyingly tall nub in the vast blue sea. Even still, a storm dark cloud enveloped the highest point. For a cloud that dark, it made no noise, never flashed, and it rolled and toiled in a stone shape by the grace of the sea breeze.

“Well that’s a disappointing sight,” Maui threw his massive hook over his shoulder, “Are you sure this is the correct spinning cloud ball we’re looking for?”

Moana smacked him with her oar, knocking him out of his relaxed stance. Tattoo Maui smacked the skin beneath him to share the wayfinder’s displeasure.

“Woah,” He caught himself, holding his peck in frustration, “Fine. Fine. We’re in the right place. I’ll just fly up there then and pluck her out. Nothing to it.”

Before Moana could argue, the demigod had transformed into a giant eagle and was zooming towards the swirling cloud ball. As soon as his talons breached the cloud layer, it crackled. Purple lightning flickered through the ball while winds smashed into the sides of the pumice tower. Giant chunks of volcanic rock plunged into the ocean, some smacked holes through the boat. But Moana had no time to worry about that. The storm clouds whistled and churned, and tendrils of it snagged Maui. No matter how he fought them, they held their prize until the coursing ball devoured him.
“MAUI!” Moana screamed. She lept from her canoe and onto the pumice tower. The almost uniform shaped rock aided her as she scaled it.

Once Maui was fully within the ball, the storm calmed once more. The fledgling demigoddess didn’t think as her fingers brushed the vapor. Cold, wet tendrils latched onto her forearm and she was wrestled from the tower’s face. She kicked and screamed, but within seconds she was consumed by the storming ball.

Suddenly, the tendrils released her and she thudded against the storm’s floor. The sudden thundering and thudding rain ground her deeper into the rocks. All around her were violent winds and vengeful clouds. She could see not further than mere inches beyond her face. Warily, she scrambled to her feet with her hands clasped tightly over her ears. She yelled for Maui, but she couldn’t even hear her jaw click open, even as her vocal cords grew hoarse.

They’d come to rescue Matangi, and instead they’d trapped themselves as well. But she could not give up. She returned the heart of Te Fiti. She had restored Montunui and defeated Nalo. She was The Wayfinder. She was Moana.

Moana breathed in deep, her eyes drifting closed. Cautiously, she slipped her hands from her ears and gripped them in fists at her sides. She flinched at the constant barge of noise, but she held firm. Matangi had told her something when they had first met. Moana was a wayfinder. A wayfinder doesn’t know the way, but they uncover it, build it, especially when they have become hopelessly lost.

Moana breathed deep once more and shut out all of the surrounding sound. She had to get lost. She lifted her foot and stepped forward.

Suddenly, warm hands clasped her wrists and her eyes flashed open. Before her was Matangi. A more weathered, broken looking version than the jovial woman from the clam, but it was her all the same. And she was mouthing her name.

Moana screamed for Matangi as she threw herself into the Bat Lady’s arms. She’d found her! The pair were screaming at each other, hoping to make the other understand, but the wind continued to steal their voices.

If she focused, Moana could just barely read ‘what are you doing here?’ from Matangi’s lips. Their eyes met as they held each other close, the storm kicking up a fit. Moana opened her mouth to respond, but closed it immediately. Instead, she placed her palm over Matangi’s heart. “We’re here for you.” She thought, hoping the goddess would understand.

Trembling fingers curled around Moana’s. Cracked lips met her knuckles. The Bat Lady locked onto the Wayfinder, screaming her thanks with the water growing around her eyes. Relief eased through Moana. She mouthed ‘close eyes’ while pointing at her own. Matangi dutifully listened.
Moana’s breathing trembled. They had to find Maui before she could even think of finding an exit, and then she’d have to find it fast, for this storm hated that Moana had found Matangi. She feared how it would respond to all three of its prisoners finding each other. Letting go of those anxieties for now, Moana inhaled long and deep, tasting the electricity in the air. Her eyes fell closed, and she stepped, pulling Matangi along with her.

Much like when she found the goddess, she was suddenly snatched up. Matangi and Moana were tucked in Maui’s arms, his tattoo jumping and ‘hollering’ in excitement. Their shared laughter rang silent.

Matangi’s clawed hand slapped over Maui’s mouth. The lightening raged, filling every available space with it and blinding them further. Moana’s ears were failing her, but Matangi flinched. Her hands whipped off the demigods to clutch her ears. Thin streams of blood flowed from under her palms. Maui tugged her further into his hold, cradling her in one arm.

What was Moana supposed to do when Maui looked just as helpless as she felt. Here, she was trapped with a goddess and demigod thousands of years older than her, yet they expected her to lead the way. The Wayfinder got lost to find what was lost, but to traverse the raging storm? Moana drew herself together and projected the confidence she wished her had. The Wayfinder clasped hands with the Hero of Men while he carried the Bat Lady.

The three walked and walked and walked. The pumice never changed, but the sparks at their heels burned the longer they stayed connected. Even as time passed (though it was hard to tell in the void like prison), Moana held strong. She needed to find the exit.

Then, her foot met nothing.

Surprise overtook her, and she was falling, dragging Maui and Matangi with her. All she could see was blue.

“OCEAN!” Sounds rang from her mouth and into the air. Waves crashed against the pillar, drawing upwards.

Maui’s hand left hers and his hawk screech warmed the air.

Matangi tried to stop her free fall. Her form would freeze midair for a handful of seconds before rocketing back towards the ocean.

They need not worry, a saltwater tower snatched them up and carried them back to Moana’s canoe. Maui landed seconds after, flashing back to human form with his signature grin. The craft itself was worn and battered from constantly rocking against the rocks. Above them the storm prison dispersed silently, no longer fed by its creator or those trapped inside.

Matangi laughed so hard she cried, and she lay staring at the sky. At last, she was free.