Chapter Text
For the first five years of her life, Mirabel Madrigal would say her family loved her without a doubt. As the baby of the Madrigals, she was always cooed at and fussed over. She’d sit in Isabela’s lap with a fresh flower crown while listening to her describe the meanings and myths around different plants. Luisa’d look for any excuse to give her a piggyback ride or read her a story. Dolores would always tell her the town’s freshest gossip while fussing over her hair. Camilo was her gemelo , practically her shadow as they played together, literally her shadow in the months after he got his gift.
The adults were much the same. Her Tia Pepa would light the room up with a rainbow every time she saw her, Tio Felix spinning her round and round. Tio Bruno didn’t come out of his room all that much, but she could safely say she was his favorite - his rat telenovelas were the coolest! She loved spending every minute with her mama in the kitchen, making arepas and throwing flour like confetti to Julieta’s amusement, giggling at her papa Augustin’s bee stings whenever he’d pop humming a silly tune. And Abuela. Oh Abuela. In her eyes, she was the true bebé milagro , soft eyes filled with kindness as she was taught to sew and told stories of their family.
“This candle holds the Miracle that was given to our family.”
When the day of her ceremony came around, it was all smiles and pride. Being spun around by Luisa and flowers from Isa, cheek kisses from Dolores and tackle-hugs from Camilo. Pepa couldn’t stop raining, her rainbow bright in the air as Felix chuckled. Her parents couldn’t be more excited, they’d definitely gone overboard with the food for the party. And Abuela. Oh Abuela.
“A gift just as special as you.”
The door crumbled to gold dust. The aftermath was all fuzzy to her, but the one thing she’d never forget was Abuela’s face. A love so warm and strong being washed by shock and confusion and fear, before being replaced by stony resolve. Her Tia and Tio immediately went to comfort a shocked Camilo while Dolores turned tail and fled to her room from the noise of the crowd. Luisa stood gormlessly with a lost Isabela, her parents running to her side. As they went to comfort her, Abuela snapped at them to help her with damage control. They complied with little resistance, Julieta looking hesitant and Augustin being the loyal husband.
She began to cry, Tio Bruno sweeping her up back into the nursery. He had always been there for her when her parents were slaving away “keeping the magic strong”. He rocked her back and forth as she sobbed into his ruana , the fabric growing damp until she fell asleep.
“Hush now little mouse, it’ll be alright.”
He disappeared the next morning.
“We don’t talk about Bruno from now on.”
After her door faded, her family’s love might as well have faded with it. Camilo practiced his new gift with his new friends, making excuse after excuse until the gemelos were more like strangers. Dolores was always overwhelmed after being in town all day, shutting herself in her room as soon as allowed. At least she still spoke to Mirabel sometimes, though nothing more than polite small talk. Luisa seemed to be even busier than ever, working from breakfast to dinner non-stop then straight to bed with only a quick “hi” and “bye”. Her Tia couldn’t look at her for more than a minute without thundering, and “it’s too close to the harvest to risk it, Mirabel,” would be Tio’s excuse before rushing to comfort his wife.
Bless her padres , they tried their best in the beginning, but Julieta was just as busy as her middle daughter and needed Augustin’s help to gather firewood and do dishes. They made as much time for her as they could, but every free evening would suddenly become unavailable after a few weeks. She had a suspicion that Abuela had doubled their workload on purpose. Sweet sentiments were dripped in here and there, but they seemed more and more fake as time went on. Maybe they were sincere, but they certainly never felt like it. The original golden child of the Madrigals clearly had no idea how to comfort the Giftless one, and never truly learned.
Mirabel still spent some time with her family in the beginning, during mealtimes for the first few weeks after the ceremony. Assurances that she was still loved, that the family was just “doing their part to serve the community” and didn’t have much time. They had been busy before, so this made sense to her. Looking back, it was deeply sad how she’d tried to cling desperately to normalcy.
The first real tipping point that showed her just how much she had fallen was Isabela. Hermana mayor Isabela. Kind, loving, doting Isabela. La Senorita Perfecta Isabela . Whenever the eldest grandchild had had a time before, they’d go into the woods together to look at wildflowers and find pretty butterflies. She delighted in testing out new combinations atop the younger’s head, gushing about her hermanita , how special and precious she was and how she’d grow up to be the brightest star of the family.
The Sunday after her failed gift ceremony, Mirabel skipped up to Isabela babbling, completely missing the strained look on her face and tired annoyance in her eyes.
“And Mariana says she saw a dragonfly near the big rockpile Isa! A dragonfly! I’ve never seen a real one before!
“Mirabel -”
“Do you think they buzz like bees? Léon told me at school they buzz like bees but Senora Lopez said they don’t.”
“Mirabel -”
“I wonder what colours they are? Do you think they have spots -”
“Mirabel! I don’t have time for you right now, so why don’t you just go away and leave me alone!”
If Mirabel had stayed a little longer before tearing up and running away, she’d have seen the regretful look on Isabela’s face, the clenched fists, the mouth forming into an apology. Before it was quickly wiped off by a look of approval from Abuela.
Oh Abuela. Years from now Mirabel would swear that the first time her heart broke would be when Abeula tore her hand away out from Mirabel’s tiny fist and walked away without a word.
Brightest star of the family. What a joke.
Time passed. Mirabel remained trapped in the nursery, the room a sanctuary and a prison. The other kids her age ran from her, convinced she had some curse of bad luck. Names were thrown at her like stones.
Sencilo.
Falsa Madrigal.
Giftless.
Useless.
Reject.
Not worthy of the miracle.
A stain on the Madrigal family.
The adults weren’t much better, propagating the same childish taunts in more articulate ways. Rumors were spread of her being adopted, an affair baby, Bad-Luck Bruno’s secret daughter. Young and old villagers tripped her in the streets, her knees never free of scrapes and scratches. At least she could say her body was stronger than most in the Encanto, as she no longer visited her mother’s food stand after Abuela caught her one day.
“That food is for the good of the Encanto Mirabel. I will not have you wasting it.”
She buried herself in her art, getting more and more skilled at molding fabric and thread to her wishes. Symbols of the Madrigals adorned her clothes, a futile attempt to stay integrated with the family. To be a part of their glowing constellation, rather than a dying star. At least she still had Casita. The sentient house did all it could to ease the young girl’s heart, teaching it the language of clattering tiles and slamming shutters. But it could not replace the loss of her family’s love. She sobbed into her pillow at night, feeling the feeble mattress and tiny bedframe become uncomfortable as months went by.
Every night she prayed for a miracle, not sure it would ever come.
But one day, one did. A very strange miracle indeed.