Time's kinda fuzzy, up here in the clouds. Not fuzzy like demigod-fuzzy, decades-gone-in-a-blink fuzzy. More like one blink sees a day gone, and the next a week. It takes a bit of work to get used to.

Tagaloa's been great about the whole adjustment thing, though. As scary as he seems - understandably, since he's at least a hundred times Maui's size - he's a great guy. Would recommend. He even commended Maui on his choice of mortals, a sentiment that Maui both appreciates and with which he wholeheartedly agrees.

To say that Tagaloa's realm is huge would be an understatement. Maui's not even sure mortals have a word that could do it justice. Massive, behemoth, gargantuan - none of the come close. The sky is a mirror to the sea below him, but bigger. The waves are the eddies of the wind itself, and sailing is weightless, the crafts of Moana's ancestors propelled up and over the shifting tides of the clouds, soaring through the endless sky.

Turns out, the world below them is round. Huh. So there wasn't really an end to a horizon, just a point where you came back to where you'd been. That was... a bit odd, getting used to. Imagining that their sea was actually curved. It'd never looked that way, during his time way down there. It'd just looked flat.

But even if there was an end to their old ocean, there's no end here. The sea of the sky really does continue, it really goes on forever. The clouds that form their islands are never the same, and they're never in the same place twice - some are denser, some lighter and puffier, some move in unpredictable patterns. Some leak. Some have entire hosts of people, whole groups of Moana's ancestors, sailing and exploring and laughing, just as they did thousands of years ago.

Up here, in the clouds of Tagaloa's realm, there's always more.

Sure, Maui's taken out one of their boats, borrowed from Moana's great-great-great-plus-forty-something-greats grandmother. Just to poke around, make sure it's not hard to switch from sailing down there to sailing up here, to kinda see what lies ahead for them. Turns out you still just need an oar and a sail and a good feel of the waves, and setting out again feels right. But he's never been gone more than three hours. Nothing too commendable - just to work out logistics. Wayfinders never sail alone, and Maui doesn't want to take off solo.

Besides, there's someone he's waiting for.

Thankfully, the sky is full of people to talk to. Word gets around pretty quick that the great Maui, Hero to All, has passed into Tagaloa's realm - and as it turns out, he's as much a hero mortal as he was immortal. Especially to the people who once lived on Motunui. Among them, he's a favorite. More than once he's had a couple of the not-too-long-dead Chiefs thank him for protecting their island, their people, after they passed.

Then he finds the really old Chiefs of Motunui, the ancient voyagers who set out in their ships to eagerly uncover his islands with faces lighting with glee and anticipation. Ta'ita'i, one of the first to set sail, wraps Maui in a hug so huge that he can almost feel his ribs splintering. Afterward, Maui spends a couple months catching up with Fa'atonuga the Ruthless, one of his favorites before his millennium in his vacation home. All of them are touched, proud beyond words that far below them, the Voyager Chief teaches her people their names once more.

Then, not two months after he'd set foot in Tagaloa's realm, he finds a particular gray-haired woman. Well, more like she finds him. Well, more like she storms right up to him, grabs his ear, pulls him down with a shockingly firm grip for someone with that much white streaking their temples, and shrieks directly into his eardrums.

Then, just when he's sure that he's going to have to wave his hearing goodbye, she rocks backward and roars with laughter. He's really not sure what is happening, just sits there like a particularly useless boulder, until he catches a glimpse of her back.

Sure enough, with wings spread majestically across her shoulders, is the tattoo of a manta ray.

He pays her back by catching her off guard, whispering a word of thanks. For helping Moana when he did not. And in response, she smacks him.

He thinks, ruefully, rubbing his shoulder, that Moana would have done the same. The Voyager Chief always hated it when he brought up that particular misstep.

With Moana's family, he's found a home again. Chief Tui and Sina find him soon after, towed behind Moana's grandmother, and even several months later it takes Maui off-guard to find that these humans, these remarkable humans, treat him as they would family.

With them, he passes many years. Their store of tales from Moana's youth is nearly endless; and in return, Maui shares some of their exploits on the sea. How Moana kept sailing, kept voyaging, up until Maui himself passed.

He's not sure, but he doesn't think Moana's set her sails seaward since he died.

There is white in her hair, now, thinner and smoother than the clouds in the sky. In the place of a walking-stick, she uses an oar. When she tilts it toward the sky, making her way - slow but steady, unfaltering as always - through her village, the light catches on a heart engraved in the wood.

Moana wears little jewelry, but she has never removed her necklace. Still the blue glints from around her neck; and on the inside, always over her heart, a shark-tooth lies nestled in its gentle grasp.

Chief La'ei wears the tuiga of her mother's sister with pride. Her son is a bard, a storyteller, devastating with word and melody alike. Even before she passes, Moana is honored with a glimpse of the legends with which her people will honor her. Of her feats the bard-child writes hundreds of songs, from the alliances she has struck to the beasts she has slayed to the life she returned to her people.

And in those stories, always by her side, Maui hears his own name. It seems inextricably twined with the titles of Moana, the famed Chief of Motunui, Voyager of the Seas, Name-giver of Islands. Always his come after, the same but different - he is the Master of the Wind and Sea, now.

The Chief's son adds one to his repertoire, a personal touch and tribute, to the Guardian of Motunui.

For several years, he is content to watch. Sometimes, Moana's grandmother joins him, and his days are filled with laughter, of teasing the oblivious retired Chief below their feet. Sometimes Tui and Sina, always together, sit by his side, feet swinging over the ocean of which they had finally lost their fear. Sometimes all three of them, a once-demigod and three humans, joined in their love of one particular mortal.

One day, when Maui watches alone, Moana dies.

She is mere years older than the first time he met her. Her oar rests comfortably at her side, her back straight and unbowed, her eyes fierce and furrowed. In death, as in life, she is unafraid. Tagaloa is the first to meet her, and she is honored: even the God of Creation knows her name.

When Tagaloa releases her into the highest ring of his realm, it is Maui that pulls her close.

At the time of the Voyager, the stories of the Motunui were passed along in covert tones. For forty generations they were hushed, told in whispers as they were banned from the reef. Slowly, most of the village forgot their ancestors; most ignored the call of the sea, which had once leapt joyfully in their hearts.

But in her reign, the Voyager Chief refused. She extolled the legends of their ancestors, commemorating them in song, so that their names would no longer be forgotten. So the people of Motunui learned as their Voyager had done before them; once more they learned, name-by-name, the ancestors that had sung and fought and sailed, uncovering their own island and dozens more.

Then her sister's daughter after her, and her son after, added their own legends to the mix. Of the Voyager they make countless stories, immortalizing her deeds and those of the Guardian Maui who travelled with her, of their island's Guardian who began their Voyager on her path toward wayfinding. Of their Voyager and their Guardian the people of Motunui sing hundreds of songs, lilting melodies, lifting their voices to the sky.

On the day that the Voyager dies, sailing to the furthest unknown among the clouds, two falling stars arch over the skies of Motunui. And the year next, and the next, and the next - the same two stars, on that night, each year.

A giant, some say, shaking their heads. An idle behemoth, disgusted with himself, shedding his old rocks skyward like crumpled snakeskin. Or a bored god, skipping stones across the expanse of the sky, disinterested and apathetic after centuries of ruling.

But the Chief of Motunui turns her eyes toward the sky and tells her son look, the Voyager Chief and our Guardian, defenders of our people. She tells her people look here and see, even as we die we are remembered.

Inspired, her son sets his throat to music and sings. Above his head, those two stars soar across the sky, skipping between star and sun and light, weaving their way past the gods and legends emblazoned inside the constellations in which they have earned their home. Joyfully they sail, bobbing and weaving around the gods, ducking past Tilafaiga and bobbing below Tagaloa, threading through the stars of Taema and soaring cheerily over the island of Te Fiti, where it is said that, once a year, the great goddess herself lifts her head to acknowledge those who pass over her island.

Together, the people of Motunui whisper to themselves, turning awed faces skyward and rejoicing as the music swells around them, aue aue, te fenua te malie. Together, says the bard-child and the hundreds of voices with him, recounting their stories and their legends of their defenders, their beloved Chief and Guardian, the Voyagers of the Stars, we tell the stories of our elders in a never-ending chain -

Together, the two stars fly endlessly on the waveless ocean.

Together, Moana and Maui sail the eternal seas.

Note: La'ei's kid's name is Lin. Just for grins.

A huge shoutout to everyone who left comments on this fic. Your feedback and occasional angry shouting was hugely motivational for me, and made writing this whole thing really worth it. I've loved being able to write for this fandom, because you are all so kind and genuine and an honest joy to interact with.

This work is over, but I'm expanding it into a series, The Voyagers of the Stars. I'm not sure how long it will be, but there will be at least one more work. Thank you again for sharing with me this incredible journey.

Tulou, Tagaloa.