#editing split between paapaka and myself

[fallen-gravity]

Kimi Hamuti (1/?)

co-written by @paapakawalk !!

Fandom: Moana

Category: Gen

Word Count: 4,433

Chapter: 1/?

Summary: Kimi Hamuti- it means "to make amends" in Te Reo Māori.

Set in an AU where Te Kā refuses to take her heart back, she sends Maui out to reconcile with every being he has ever wronged in his immortal lifetime. To make sure he actually complies with what she says, Te Kā places a curse on Moana. Until Maui has reconciled with *everyone* he's ever wronged, Moana will suffer and feel all of the collective pain of those he needs to make amends with. To try and talk Te Kā into letting Moana stay home, he suggests to bring someone who despsises him, and metions Tamatoa by name only as a joking suggestion.

But due to a very poor miscommunication error on Maui's part, Te Ka caves in *immediately*, and instead of letting Maui get his way and sending Moana home, Te Kā instead insists that he must now travel with both Moana *and* Tamatoa, trapping them in a situation where *none* of them can be happy.

An impulsive decision, a blinding flash of light… and just like that, his hook is gone.

The kickback is enough to send him careening towards a small rock jutting out of the sea, and when he looks towards his hook it’s nothing more than a hilt and a pile of ash. Sharp pain shoots across his chest as he stares at his prized possession, his gift from Tangaroa; but he shakes it off. As long as the attack was enough to buy Moana enough time to find the spiral, then, well, his hook really isn’t his biggest concern at the moment.

But apparently he underestimated the power his cracked hook had, because when Te Kā stands back up a few seconds later, she’s grimacing and gripping tightly at her chest – where his hook had apparently chipped away at multiple layers of hardened lava.

Māui curses silently to himself, and slowly pushes himself back up to his feet to challenge Te Kā again. It’s not like he has any chance without his hook, but if he can buy Moana even one minute of extra time so she can restore the Heart to Te Fiti, then Te Kā won’t exactly be a problem anymore.

Besides, he’s the one Te Kā’s after, right? He’s the one Te Kā tried to fight for the Heart when he stole it a thousand years ago, wasn’t he? It’s not like Te Kā would have any reason to show interest in Moana at any point other than when she was on the same boat as him, and all Moana’s doing is trying to restore the Heart. Māui’s not sure Te Kā is even aware that Moana’s the one who has the Heart at all.

But when Māui chances a glance up at Te Kā as he’s standing to his feet, he suddenly realizes that he couldn’t be further from the truth if he tried. Instead of focusing all of her rage on him, or using his broken hook as an opportunity to smite him on the spot, Te Kā is instead directing ounce of her attention onto Moana.

So he picks up the broken hilt of his hook and slams it back down onto the rock, just for extra effect, and calls out to Te Kā. She freezes instantly at the sound of his voice, and contorts herself to face him so quickly that she accidentally sends some of her lava falling into the water below.

As soon as he’s sure he’s got her undivided attention, Māui immediately drops into a haka, challenging Te Kā to pay attention only to him, to attack him, to smite him, because better him than Moana. He’d rather die a thousand fiery deaths at the hands of Te Kā than watch Moana suffer underneath her wrath – because, after all, it’s his fault they’re here, his fault things got this far out of hand–

But before Te Kā can swing her hand down to scorch him alive, he sees a tiny flash of bright green out of the corner of his eye. Evidently Te Kā has seen it too, because she screeches to a halt, the ball of fire in her palm disintegrating into the water with a weak splash. Gone in an instant is her attention on him, and when Māui turns to see what Te Kā’s looking at he spots Moana standing on the very peak of Te Fiti’s blackened shore. She’s holding the Heart up in the air, and there’s enough bright light flashing from it to be spotted from the barrier islands.  

At first Māui thinks she only did that to stop Te Kā from killing him, and that she’ll go right back to the spiral to put the Heart back, but instead of turning around Moana begins to walk back down the shore towards the ocean. Crazy little mortal, he thinks, beginning to grow alarmed. What is she plotting?

“Moana!” he shouts in an attempt to catch her attention, but she doesn’t seem to hear a single word he’s saying. Instead, she pauses right where the ocean splashes against the shore. One word to the ocean has it splitting itself in half before her, giving Moana a direct path to the barrier island Te Kā seems to be trapped on.

The moment Te Kā watches the ocean part in two, she roars, and slams herself down onto the now-dry ground, tearing up the very earth itself as she claws her way towards Moana. Māui’s about to grab his hook and turn into a hawk just so he can keep watch and make sure Te Kā isn’t going to burn Moana to a crisp – but stops and curses to himself when he remembers that his hook isn’t exactly functional.

Distantly, if he listens closely enough, Māui thinks he can hear the sound of Moana singing. And if he didn’t know any better, if this were a far, far less dangerous situation than the one she’s willingly putting herself in, Māui could swear she was singing a lullaby, because he’s not sure he’s ever heard anyone use such a soft and gentle voice for anything other than for putting their feisty child to bed at night.

Huh. He never actually considered that lulling Te Kā into submission would actually work, but if there’s anyone out there who could manage, it’d be Moana.

So when Te Kā comes to a halt in front of the tall rock Moana planted herself on, but doesn’t use the close distance to kill her and get it over with, it comes to no surprise to Māui.

What happens after she stops, however, that’s the part that shocks Māui.

Instead of bowing her head to Moana to speak to her, or even dissipating the lava boiling inside her to allow Moana to step closer to her so she can speak, Te Kā instead throws her head back and begins roaring in laughter. Raw, genuinely amused laughter.

Māui’s not sure why this rubs him just the wrong way, but it does.

And he’s not sure why Te Ka’s ominous laughter has him leaping off the rock he was standing on, or why it has him sprinting towards where Te Kā and Moana are standing, but he does.

It’s probably not a great idea, Māui realizes, sprinting right towards the lava demon who tried to kill him at least twice, but he does, and the closer he gets to them the more of their apparent conversation he can begin to make out.

“…You really think that’s all it’s going to take? Some puny meatbag simply handing the Heart back, telling me she forgives me for the way I’ve been behaving for the past thousand years?”

A pause, as Moana, taken aback by the lava demon’s words, collects herself.

“But…” she starts. “But you’re only behaving this way because your Heart was stolen! I know who you really are, Te Kā, and this isn’t the real you!”

Another deep, grating laugh bubbles out of Te Kā.  “Maybe a thousand years ago, child. I know who I truly am. I’m Te Fiti, Giver of Life, and Goddess of all things green and beautiful. You know, the whole works,” she spits out mockingly. “Or, well, that’s what I used to be. Now I’m Te Kā, Goddess of Fire and Lava – and bringer of death to all things green and beautiful,” she hisses, clearly amused by her own joke. “And know something else, meatbag? I don’t want the Heart anymore. It’s useless to me, and you’ve got good ol’ Tangaroa to thank for that. Instead of simply bringing my heart back to me myself – and don’t you dare try to argue that the ocean wasn’t capable, because I just saw it part for you – he decided to wait to find some special Chosen One to bring it back for me. And not just any Chosen One, oh no. Apparently Tangaroa thought it’d be a great idea to send a child to come to my rescue.”

Moana opens her mouth, but is cut off by Te Kā’s scoff. “And you want to know what else? What’s so great about some Chosen One coming to look for me instead of, oh, I don’t know, my own father bringing it back to me instead?” she pauses for a second, but doesn’t give Moana time to respond. “You’re only here because you have to be. Oh, I can imagine the real reason you’re here. Let me guess. Home island crumbling to pieces? People are dying because there’s no food left?” she pauses, and grins viciously when Moana takes an awkward half-step backwards.

“I–” Moana begins, but wavers and falls silent.

“Bingo. You don’t care about me. You never did.  Nobody on this gods-forsaken planet has ever cared about me. So you know what? No, I’m not taking the Heart back. You know why? Because none of it was my fault to begin with. This isn’t my problem to fix, or to care about. I’m going to keep letting this darkness spread until it wipes out every island in the Pacific. And when everyone needs somebody to blame, somebody to get really angry at for what happened to their homes… you know where they’re going to turn?”

Te Kā pivots, and before Māui’s even aware of the situation she’s facing directly towards him. “You,” she spits. “You’re the one who stole the Heart in the first place, so you’re the one who should be responsible for the consequences of your actions. And don’t even bother trying to smooth-talk your way out of this one, because who’s going to believe whatever story you come up with, anyway? Moana? It’s not like she’ll want to see you after this whole ordeal is over… especially once her island is wiped off the face of the earth.”

A wicked grin spreads across Te Kā’s face. “As a matter of fact, maybe I should kill her, just to make it harder for you to find someone who will support you after this mess is over with.”

She pivots back around to face Moana – but before she even raises her arm, Te Kā freezes as another idea hits her.

“No, you know what? I’ve got a better idea. I’ll take the Heart back; I’ll restore life to your islands, but only under one condition.”

“Anything,” Moana says, desperation writ large in her voice.

Te Kā grins, and it’s the most terrifying thing Māui has ever seen. “You sail home, you let me kill Māui, and you let his stories go out with him. What do you say, Chosen One?”

There��s a pause, and past the smoke and bright molten lava of Te Kā’s form, Māui can see Moana taking a step forward towards Te Kā. For the briefest, briefest of seconds, Māui’s considering asking Moana what she’s doing, but before he can even open his mouth Moana leaps forward off the rock to stand in front of him, arms spread out in a protective gesture.

“No,” Moana grits out without hesitation, with just as much hardness in her tone as Te Kā’s. “I would never. I know he can be pretty selfish and pig-headed sometimes, but he doesn’t deserve this. If it weren’t for him, I never would’ve made it across the sea. He’s the one who taught me to sail.”

Moana shakes her head, but she refuses to drop her protective gesture from around Māui. “If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be alive right now. He sacrificed his hook for my life, Te Kā. His hook. If that doesn’t mean a thing to you, if you still think that he’s not capable of changing for the better after witnessing that, I don’t know what would.” Moana pauses in her little speech, and it’s only in this short pause that Māui realizes that Moana’s panting. But she either doesn’t realize she’s doing it, or she doesn’t care, because she continues on anyway.

“Māui doesn’t deserve to die for his wrongdoings. He’s capable of change. He’s good on the inside, Te Kā. I know he is. I’ve seen it myself. There has to be some other way. There has to be a way for him to redeem himself. Because as much as I’d love to restore my island, and all of those other islands out there…” she pauses, and glances down at the Heart of Te Fiti still pulsing in her hand. “I could never live with myself knowing that I just handed Māui over to get killed like that. There has to be some other way. Please,” she says, balling her hands up into fists. “Please.”

Te Kā eyes Moana, the way she’s shielding Māui from her, the way she’s protecting him, and snorts, a thin jet of smoke issuing from her mouth.

“You really think that mini-god is worth protecting? Do you really think that he, a trickster, is capable of changing for the better? Your precious island isn’t the only one affected by the curse. I’m surprised to see you still standing at all, as a matter of fact, seeing as most of the islands the curse has reached are simply piles of ash scattered around the Pacific. He caused all of this, Moana, and he’s done nothing to stop it. He just sat around, watching everything crumble around him, because he doesn’t care. Even now! Was Māui the one who tried to give my heart back? Was he the one who apologized for all of my hurt and suffering over the last millennium? No! He just sat back and expected a human, of all things, to do it for him! You can’t defend him for his wrong-doings. You can’t just tell him that everything’s going to be okay because he’s a good person. He’s been doing this for millennia. Far, far before you were even conceived. He screws up, angers a god or two, and then never faces the consequences for it. He comes up with some pathetic excuse to make up for it, and he always ends up getting away with it – just because he meant well, or just because the Gods are still soft on him and remember the times when he was still an unwanted, unloved little runt. So Has it ever gotten through to that massive head of his that maybe he should just leave things be? No. He just shrugs it off, waits a century or two, and then screws up again. And where does that leave you meatbags? Humanity has been forced to bear the consequences that aren’t even yours. This is no different. You restore my heart, he gets off scot-free, and in few centuries he’s going to make the same exact mistake all over again.”

Te Kā pauses to glance at the duo, and doesn’t miss at all the way Moana refuses to stand down, or the way that she shifts to block Te Kā’s path to Māui whenever the lava demon so as much tilts her head. A new idea comes to Te Kā at the sight, and Te Kā finds herself fighting back a malicious grin. Oh, this will be so much better than simply ending Māui’s life right away. “You don’t want me to kill him? You insist he is capable of good? Fine. I’ll humor you. I won’t kill him. But, to assure this kind of thing will not happen again, he is to journey across the sea and right every wrong he has ever committed. Every god he’s ever angered, every being he’s ever wronged, he must reconcile with every single one of them. Then, and only then, will I forgive him – only then will I accept my heart back.” This time Te Kā actually does smile.

“And to assure he actually leaves, you, Moana, are to accompany him. Because this will likely take centuries, I will bestow upon you a gift. You will no longer age, nor fall ill. You will never die. However, until Māui finishes what he sets out to do, you will suffer immensely. You will feel the pain of everyone he has ever wronged, including me, and this curse will not be lifted until he has reconciled with them all. Do we have a deal?” Te Kā asks.

Before Moana can even open her mouth to say another word, Māui shoves her arm out of the way and turns to stand in front of her, lifting his arms up in the protective gesture she had been using on him. “Are you insane?” he grits out. “I’m not dragging Moana into this! Even if she does become immortal, even if she wouldn’t technically be able to die, do you know how many people out there want me dead? Do you have any clue how many people I’ve gotten in trouble with? Forcing Moana to feel all of their collective pain for all eternity? That alone could kill her, and that’s not even including what could happen when we actually encounter these guys!”

Māui shakes his head at himself, angrily, and takes a deep breath. This is the last thing he needs right now, to anger Te Kā even further, and if he keeps this up, keeps attacking her when she’s vulnerable, then, well, for all he knows, she could put Moana through something worse, just to spite him. She could force Moana to feel all of their collective hatred towards him. She could place a permanent curse on Motunui that would remain even after all of the other islands are freed.

She could kill Moana right here, right now, without so much as the blink of an eye.

Māui sighs.

“Look, I get it! I really do! You’re angry at me, a lot of people out there are angry at me, and you want me to fix my mistakes. Done! I’ll leave right now. I’ll even come back to check in and see how you’re doing every few centuries, if you’d like. But please, Te Kā, leave Moana out of this. What has she ever done to you? Tried to help you? Offered to give your heart back to you? She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

There’s a short pause, and Māui almost thinks that Te Kā’s considering his point, but she just shakes her head and cracks a grin horrifying enough to drain the color from Māui’s face.

“That, mini-god, is exactly why she does deserve it. It’s not about what she’s done for me. It’s about what she’s done for you. You’re attached to her. She’s somebody you like, no? The reason poor Moana has to go through all of this is so I can be sure you actually leave. Besides…” she draws out the word in a way that makes Māui shudder, “you’re too late, little one. The curse has already been placed. It’ll take effect soon enough. She will suffer, no matter what you do. And the only way to end her suffering is to accomplish exactly what I’ve asked of you.”

Te Kā stops, and pivots, like she’s planning to return to her barrier island.

“Wait!” Māui shouts suddenly as an idea comes to him, and Te Kā stops. “Wouldn’t that be a little, I dunno, boring for you?”

Te Kā blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Me, sailing around with Moana,” Māui explains. “She’s the only friend I’ve got. Possibly the only person in the entire Pacific who can stand to be around me. Curse or no, don’t you think it’s possible that I could end up enjoying myself, at one point or another?”

He’d never end up having a good time, truthfully, if he ended up stuck on a boat with Moana if she was going to end up miserable and in pain the entire time. But if he could just think of something, someone else to come with him instead of Moana – if he could figure out how to get Te Kā to lift the curse so that Moana gets to home and be safe and sound for the rest of her life… Then, well, being stuck on a boat for the next millennia with anyone would be enjoyable by comparison.

And he means anyone.

Te Kā looks like she’s listening, so Māui clears his throat. “Why not send me off with someone who can’t stand me? Wouldn’t that be more fun to watch? Me, stuck on a boat with somebody who hates my guts?” Māui grins, trying as hard as he can to hide the true reason behind his suggestion. “I could probably list a good number off the top of my head. A lone survivor on a dead island? The spirit of some monster I killed a few centuries ago? Tamatoa, even! Why send me off with my best and only friend? Wouldn’t that be a little, I don’t know, vanilla of you?”

A long pause, and this time Te Kā actually looks like she’s seriously considering his words. Finally, she hisses in annoyance. “As much as it pains me to admit this, you do make a good point. Tamatoa, eh? I remember hearing of the falling out between you and that tiny creeping crustacean spawn. The legends say you two can’t stand each other to this very day! Now that sounds like something I’d just love to see play out.”

Māui’s about to sigh in relief, and he’s about to drop his protective gesture from around Moana, he really is, but then Te Kā speaks again.

“They will both accompany you. Your pathetic human pet, if you will, as well as Tamatoa.” A pause. “But, seeing as he has grown to a size far too massive to fit on a human canoe, I shall put a curse on him, too. For the entire duration of the trip, Tamatoa will be trapped in the body of a man. Once the mission is complete, he will return to his normal form and size and will once more return to his place in Lalotai. But if you refuse, mini-god…” She glares at him. “I will kill both you and Moana on the spot. What do you say, demigod? Do we have a deal?”

Silence.

If he doesn’t leave, he dies, and Moana dies…  Besides the fact that she’s his best friend, well… knowing how wonderfully accurate human legends about him are, there’s a chance word will spread that it was all his fault. Knowing Te Kā, she’ll probably be the one to spread the story herself. The story of how the once great demigod Māui tried to sacrifice a human girl’s life to restore the Heart of Te Fiti, but still failed anyway, getting himself killed in the process. He’d be a laughingstock. Everyone over on Motunui would hate him, and it wouldn’t be long before his more heroic stories would be lost to the sea forever.

On the other hand, he leaves, and forces Moana to stick around in agony for the next thousand or so years. He’s going to be sailing around quite possibly for the rest of his immortal life trying to fix the wrongs he already sought forgiveness for centuries ago.  He’s going to be stuck on a boat with Tamatoa, of all people, and he wouldn’t even be able to defend himself if the crab tried to pull something funny, because his hook has been–

Wait. His hook.

“What about my hook?” Māui asks, not quite daring to look Te Kā in the eyes. Eyes? Lava cavities? Whatever.

“What about your hook?” Te Kā spits back. “It’s gone. I destroyed it.”

“Exactly!” Māui argues back immediately. “It’s gone. I don’t have it anymore. And seeing as that I used my hook for most of the problems I’ve caused with the Gods, wouldn’t it make sense that I would need it to reconcile with them as well? All of my shapeshifting powers came from that hook, Te Kā. Everyone knows this. So if I don’t have my hook, how do you expect me to set out at all?”

Te Kā groans. “Ooh, I hate admitting that you’re right. It just gives me this sick, burning feeling in my stomach. You know a different kind of burning than the one I feel every second of every day. Wait here.” Reaching a hand down, she pulls a chunk of volcanic rock from her barrier island and beats it against the palm of her hand, until it forms into a club like the ones Māui remembers from the southern islands: a patu ōnewa. She brings it back over to the duo and holds it up.

Well, it’s no hook, but Māui would be lying to himself if he said this wasn’t just about the coolest thing he’s ever seen. Barely suppressing an excited squeal, he reaches out for it – but just before he can take it, Te Kā yanks it away from him.

“I will give this to you only if you agree to go and do this for me. And as much as I hate you, and as hilarious as it would be to watch you failing to heft this thing, I’ll explain how this works.”

“Your shape-shifting powers will, unfortunately, function just as well with this weapon as they did with your hook. For you see, it does not matter what weapon you wield, demigod, so as long as you’re able to transfer some of your magic into it.” She grins at Māui’s flabbergasted expression. “Your hook doesn’t seem that special after all, now, does it? You could’ve gotten those shape-shifting powers from any object, as long as you knew how to wield it correctly. But seeing as this is a simple club, I doubt that even you could screw this thing up.” She holds out the weapon to Māui again. “So, which is it, demigod? Will you take this weapon and right what is wrong, or will you refuse, and be killed alongside your little friend here?”

Māui closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Because as much as he can’t stomach the thought of what’ll happen when Moana’s curse takes effect, and as much as he really can’t stand Tamatoa…

Nothing would be worth the risk of sacrificing Moana’s life. Especially not something that wasn’t her fault to begin with.

“Deal,” he mutters, and reaches forward to take the patu ōnewa from Te Kā’s stretched out palm.

“Good,” Te Kā responds, and flicks her wrist out towards the ocean. “Now go. Your first stop will be Lalotai, to go pick up Tamatoa. His curse should kick in right about… now. Good luck, little ones…” She winks. “Or not. I really couldn’t care less.”