Chapter 10: Animals

50 years before Encanto

(Notes)

The start of this chapter is from another of my fics called Rain on Me (from the chapter "Casita"). I'd written it months ago, but it covered all these events so it seemed a waste to rewrite when it was already available. Hope that's okay! I've also written new content at the end of this chapter, which follows the prompt :) so in a way today is a double chapter.

Love, Cloudy

Alma stood in the crowd, staring blankly ahead as she held her three babies tightly to her chest. Her eyes were empty and her face streaked with dried tears. Alma was surrounded by people, but had never felt more alone.

The miracle casita in front of them had appeared out of nowhere. The golden glow from Pedro's candle shimmered across the land to create a small town, casitas and shops rising up out of the ground. The mountains themselves rose around them too, the ground rumbling beneath their feet as the Encanto came to life.

While the people around her gasped and stared ahead in wonder, Alma stayed silent.

Her eyes stared ahead, but she did not see the miracle. Instead, Alma saw fire. She saw flames burning and flickering from torches. She saw men on horseback, their reflections dancing across the rippling surface of the river. She saw fire reflected on water, and the glint of metal as a sword swung down. She saw her Pedro's gentle hands, open and peaceful in the air. The same warm, strong hands that held her, that stroked her hair and touched her face. She saw them drop lifelessly down, his body following with a splash. She heard the screams and cries of the people around her as his blood flowed down the river.

Somebody's hand touched Alma's back and she gasped, quickly shielding her children from the attacker. Alma closed her eyes and braced herself for someone to hurt her, but no one did. Reassuring words were spoken all around her. Alma tried to listen, but her head was clouded with the sounds of horses, of splashing water, of metal hitting flesh. Alma shuddered, breathing hard. It was too much. There were too many people. Her chest was tight and it felt like she couldn't get enough air.

Gentle hands guided Alma inside of the casita. She moved with the crowd, the voices around her muted and muffled as Alma kept forgetting where she was. Everywhere she looked she saw the mountains, the horses, the blood in the river.

As the people led her into a room of the casita, Alma felt like a ghost, watching her own body from a distance. Somebody tried to help Alma sit on the bed, but she slid to the floor. Nothing felt real anymore.

One of the people noticed a crib in the room. They reached down to help Alma with the babies, but the moment they tried to touch one of them Alma screamed out like she was being attacked. She backed up against the bed and cowered, holding her babies protectively against her chest and as she glared up, her wide eyes gleaming in pain. The person backed away, apologising.

Alma breathed hard and fast, her chest heaving for breath as she hid her children against her shaking body. There were so many people standing over her. It still felt like she was suffocating. Alma felt the thundering of hooves and heard the screams around her. She heard the swoosh of metal and the splash of water. Alma buried her face against her children, whimpering in fear. She had to protect them, she had to.

"Let's give her some space." A townsperson spoke, encouraging everyone to leave the nursery.

Someone placed Pedro's candle down in front of Alma on their way out. As the room became empty, Alma slowly looked up at the glowing candle, her face resting against her children as she watched it's warm glow. She thought of Pedro holding the candle, how his eyes would glitter as the flame reflected against them. She tried to imagine he was still here, sitting across from her as he held the candle in his hands.

She remembered him holding a candle the day they had met, looking out across the crowd at her with a friendly wave. She remembered they way he'd laugh at her jokes, and stroke her hair. She remembered sitting together on the rooftop, her back against his chest and his breath in her hair as they watched the little lights of the festival twinkle below until the sun rose over them. She remembered the way his face looked in the golden light as they held eachother. Alma took a shaky breath. She would do anything to hold Pedro in her arms again.

There was a sudden sound of gallopping hooves clattering towards her. Alma quickly turned, but there was nothing there. She turned back, feeling confused and afraid. The candle in front of her glowed brighter, and the clacking sound continued. She looked around the room, tensed and ready.

The sound repeated, and this time Alma saw the floor moving in front of her - the tiles bouncing up and down and making clacking sounds. Alma shrieked, jumping back in terror. The tiles stopped immediately and the glow of the candle faded back to normal.

Alma sat very still, her chest heaving as she stared at the floor, but it did not move again. What was that? She sat watching the tiles for a very long time, waiting tensely, until exhaustion finally caught up with her and her head dropped down to rest against her babies, her eyes closing.

The next day

"Alma."

Alma woke suddenly at the sound of her name, her mind coming back to reality.

She heard the sound of crying, but when she opened her eyes she didn't see the river. It was bright and she was in a house that she didn't recognise. Alma blinked against the light and swallowed in confusion.

She heard more crying. She tensed up, bracing herself for danger.

"You're ok."

Alma jumped as she realised there was a hand on her shoulder.

"The children." The voice spoke. It was gentle and kind.

Alma looked up to see a young woman, sitting on the tiled floor in front of her and staring back. She had wavy brown hair and kind, tired eyes. One of her arms was wrapped in bandages.

"That's your name, isn't it?" The woman asked. "Alma?"

Alma nodded, feeling confused and disorientated.

"My name is Sofia Guzmán." The woman spoke softly. She looked Alma over in concern. "Have you been here all night?"

Alma stared back in silence. She wanted to speak, but found it hard to find her voice.

The crying continued, and Alma winced at the sound.

"They're hungry."

Sofia glanced down and pouted her lips, gesturing towards the three babies in Alma's arms, before glancing back up.

Alma stared down at their little faces, feeling comfort at the sight of them. She stroked a hand tenderly across their cheeks.

"They're hungry, Alma." Sofia repeated gently.

Alma nodded and stared back up, feeling her eyes harden with a sense of purpose. She knew what she needed to do.

She had survived because she needed to protect these children.

Shushing the three babies gently, Alma got ready to feed them, struggling a little to hold all three of them as she did so.

"Do you want me to help you?" Sofia asked, carefully holding a hand out. Alma backed away, holding her babies tighter and shaking her head.

Sofia nodded in agreement.

"I don't trust anyone either." She said, wincing a little as she got up. "Not anymore."

Sofia walked stiffly over to the door, before turning back.

"Good luck, Alma."

The people gathered together that evening to hold a ceremony, where the dead were buried. After that, they slowly began to rebuild their lives in their new Encanto.

Alma wore a black shawl to the ceremony and stood with hard eyes as she watched them bury Pedro. When it was done she went back to the casita and she had not come out again since.

Every now and then townsfolk would come to bring her food, and every time they would find Alma in that same room they'd left her in the first night, holding her three children protectively as she watched the candle.

Sofia Guzmán visited a couple times, encouraging Alma to try and come outside and see the sun, just for a little while. Alma would refuse, but when Sofia insisted it was good for the children she would agree. Alma would do anything for her children.

The sun rose over the mountains of the Encanto and began to shine through the windows of the casita. Alma slept in the nursery bed, her three children cuddled up closely in her arms. She rested her face against their heads and felt comforted by the smell of their hair and the softness of their little bodies. Next to the bed, the candle glowed warmly.

Clack-clack-clack.

Alma opened her eyes at the sudden sound.

Clack-clack.

She sat up, holding her babies close. They whimpered softly as the sudden movement woke them.

Alma watched with hard eyes as the floor of the casita started to move, the tiles bouncing and clacking just like they had on that first night. Alma's body stiffened as she watched defensively. It's all in your head, she told herself. It's not really there.

The clacking continued and Alma winced as she was reminded of the horses' hooves. She shook her head, refusing to allow those memories back in. No - Never again. Alma had to be stronger than that. She glared down at the tiles.

"Go away." She whispered to the tiles, her back pressed against the wall and her arms tight around her children. "Just go!"

The tiles stopped, then tilted to the side inquisitively. They popped back down, clattering across the room and reaching the bedside table, which now started to bounce, the candle rattling and bouncing on top of it as it glowed brightly.

Alma cried out, her first instinct being to rush over and protect Pedro's candle, but then she stopped, glancing down at the babies in her arms and choosing to protect them instead. She held them close to her body, away from the danger. The candle continued to bounce, almost playfully.

"You listen here..." Alma whispered to the room, her voice low. "I don't care what you are. You are going to leave this house!"

The curtains of the window flapped, and the tiles started to clack again.

"I mean it." Alma whispered again, her voice shaking. "You leave!"

The bed started to shake too now, the window opening and shutting. Alma exclaimed, looking around in horror, but then her expression hardened again. Alma refused to be afraid. She promised herself she would never be afraid again. Alma held her babies close and thought of Pedro. Her eyes flashed with protective anger.

"I said LEAVE!" Alma cried out, her voice echoing around the room.

The room stopped.

Alma looked around the room, breathing heavily. The babies in her arms started to cry. Alma turned her attention to them, kissing their faces.

"Shh... It's ok." She whispered. "I'm sorry. Mamá's here... Nothing will hurt you, I promise."

1 year later

"Buenas Dias, Señora Madrigal."

The villagers gathered around her front door as Alma emerged, hair braided as she stood with composure, hoping no one could tell what an absolute mess she'd been only a moment before they knocked.

"And a wonderful day it is." Alma nodded, pushing down the screaming inside. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We were thinking," One villager spoke gently, knowing it was a sensitive topic. "Our village would like to celebrate today. The anniversary of the magic... We were hoping you might be able to say something, a speech."

Alma felt like she'd been punched in the gut, but she maintained composure. "That seems reasonable."

"We have gifts too." Another spoke up, handing over a basket. "For your children, and yourself."

Alma put on a brave smile, accepting the basket. Inside were baby clothes, little toys animals, some food and a bottle of wine.

"Thank you." Alma nodded. "Let me go prepare. I will see you tonight for the festivities."

The people seemed pleased as they left. Alma went to return inside, but Señora Guzman gently took her arm.

"Only come if you want to." Her friend encouraged. "If you want to do something quiet for yourself tonight that's okay, Alma." Her eyes gestured to the basket. "There are paints in there, I thought you might like that."

"Thanks." Alma replied, going inside and closing the door before her brave front had a chance to crumble.

Later

The babies lay cuddled up in one of the cribs, while Alma made an absolute mess of their nursery. She had paint splattered over her long loose hair, the colours spilt down her dress and the floor.

She'd painted her nails black, and because of that black had smeared down her face from each time she'd rubbed or wiped her crying eyes.

Alma dunked the paintbrush again, taking another drink of wine from the gift bottle.

She turned and smacked the brush into the canvas so hard it stabbed through the fabric and the whole thing fell and clattered to the floor.

"Still art." Alma announced, long hair over her face as she took another drink.

Alma came over to the painting, then stomped over it, breaking the frame.

"That's what you all came to see, right?" She muttered, stomping again. "Me suffering. Me falling apart. All out in the open for you all to stare." She kicked the painting aside and it skidded across the floor, scaring some rats.

Alma spun on the spot, addressing her sleeping babies as if they were a crowd.

"Beloved community!" Alma threw a hand. "Glad you could make it. Welcome to the Encanto." Her tone was bitter. "What, a speech? Of course I will." She took another drink, pacing around as if the whole town were watching. "Let me see. My husband is dead." She spat words like daggers, "My family is gone. I'm a terrible mother. My house is haunted-"

She shot Casita a look, daring it to move. When it didn't Alma continued.

"But!" She held her arms out. "Don't let me stop you having a good time. The magic is strong!" She used her hands to emphasise her words, drink splashing as she laughed. "And so are the-"

Alma slipped in the paint and fell, cursing to herself. The tiles lifted to catch her, and Alma shrieked, jumping back.

"Don't!" She screamed, throwing the bottle into the wall with a smash. "Don't touch me!"

The sound woke the babies and they began to cry. Alma's expression softened and she scrambled over, gently shushing them.

Her long hair tickled them as she learned over the crib and they grabbed it, pulling.

"Ah- no no no-" Alma struggled to free herself, while the babies began to giggle.

There was a knock at the door, followed by voices.

"Señora?" The village called. "We are ready for you."

Alma turned with wide eyes, frozen a little in panic.

Miercoles.

The villagers murmured in excitement, holding their candles as Señora Madrigal finally emerged, her wet hair braided and a new dress on as she held her children.

"Apologies." She said in a calm voice, the villagers walking with her as they headed to the party. "It's always tricky getting the four of us ready in time."

"Of course, Señora." They agreed, fooled by Alma's strong exterior.

Sofia Guzman came closer, putting a hand to Alma's arm as they walked together.

"I like your nails." She whispered, then giggled at Alma's shocked expression as she saw her black nails.

"Dios." Alma muttered. "Fix it, quick."

Sofia rubbed at her fingers and Alma stumbled just a little, but her friend held her steady.

"Are you drunk, Alma?" Sofia whispered.

Alma gave her friend a dry expression, then the two of them couldn't help but smile.

"Let's just get this over with." Alma sighed, leaning into her friend as they two of them headed into town, the streets glittering in candlelight.

11 months later

"Mami!" Bruno called. "Look!"

Alma gave her son an exhausted smile, holding arms out for Bruno as he took a couple wobbly steps towards her and fell. Alma caught him.

"Very good, Brunito." She praised, then was interrupted by familiar screaming.

"Mami!" Pepa shoved over a chair with a clattering bang, then threw herself to the floor. Pepa thrashed around because Mama was ignoring her, and she knew she got the most attention when she was bad.

"Pepa!" Alma scolded, frowning as she picked her daughter up, then cringed at how awful she smelled.

"Help." Pepa sobbed, then screamed again. "Mami help!" Mama still hadn't changed Pepa's diaper and it was burning.

Dios. Alma's heart sunk in guilt. She thought she'd already bathed her? Or maybe that had been Julieta. Or Bruno. It was hard to remember. As soon as one child's needs were fulfilled, another was crying and neglected. It felt like even if Alma never slept again, she'd still never be able to keep all three satisfied at the same time.

"Keep still." Alma pleaded.

Pepa kicked and squirmed while Alma attempted to change her diaper. In her distress Pepa vomited, the sick splattering all over herself and Alma, then she screamed some more. Bruno came over on wobbly legs and screamed too, because Pepa was being too loud. He slapped her and Pepa bit him.

"Stop!" Alma scolded, hands over her ears. "Dios! You're being so bad! Just stop it!"

Pepa and Bruno didn't stop. They infuriated eachother, because they got jealous competing for Mama's love.

Bruno soiled his diaper and Alma threw her head back in frustration. Turns out it had been Bruno she'd just bathed, not that it mattered now. Bruno flinched as Mama grabbed him, then she turned to Pepa with a furious expression, grabbing her too. Pepa whimpered because Mama was being too rough and it scared her.

"Come on." Alma groaned, picking them up and heading to the bathroom.

Julieta sat quietly on the tiles, watching as Mama left with her siblings. The crying and screaming faded as they all got further away.

A silent tear ran down Julieta's cheek, but she didn't make a sound. She looked down at her hands, patting her legs as she waited for Mama to come back.

Julieta was the only child Alma didn't have to worry about. She never seemed to cry, and Alma praised her for it, telling her she was a good girl.

When Mama didn't return Julieta felt afraid. She slowly crawled after Mama, her breath catching in distress.

What if they never came back?

Julieta reached the stairs more tears fell. It felt like the whole world had left her behind. Gripping the first step, Julieta attempted to climb up after them.

It was difficult and Julieta didn't make it far before she fell. Her head almost hit the step, but then the tiles moved, becoming smooth to catch Julieta like a cradle.

"Casita." Julieta whispered, her hands rubbing gratefully against tile. It bounced her a little and Julieta giggled, sliding back down.

The tiles were gentle as they returned Julieta to the floor, then quickly returned to normal as Alma's footsteps approached, knowing Alma still wasn't ready to accept the magic.

Julieta smiled in relief as Mama jumped the last couple of steps to pick her up.

"Dios." Alma's voice was breathless. "I'm sorry, mija."

Screaming and splashing was heard from upstairs and Alma cursed under her breath, turning and sprinting back upstairs with Julieta in her arms.

That night

Alma's head burned as she finally made it to bed. She was exhausted, her mind reeling as she silently listed all the things she was meant to do. Had they eaten? Were they clean? Were they happy?

Alma often forgot to ask herself these questions. Her stomach grumbled in protest but she ignored it, trying to settle the babies into bed first.

The triplets were like little animals, shrieking and jumping around the bed. Pepa shoved Bruno off the bed and laughed as her brother hit the ground with a thump, crying loudly.

Julieta looked at mama, but Alma's fingers were gripping tight to her hair and she was leaning forward, eyes closed. Julieta knew that meant Mama was having a bad day. She crawled over to the edge of the bed, worried eyes looking down at Bruno.

"Okay?" She asked, and was met with an angry little face streaked with tears.

"Hate Bepa!" Bruno shouted, his eyes gleaming with betrayal as he stood back up. "Hate Bepa!"

Pepa blew a raspberry with her mouth, laughing and squealing as she jumped around the bed. Pepa was much better at walking and moving than the others, and loved to show off.

Alma exhaled slowly through her hands, because she was exhausted and just so overwhelmed. The more they screamed, the angrier she got.

Julieta managed to help Bruno back up onto the bed and he grabbed Pepa, biting at her fluffy hair and making growling sounds while she squealed and fell back.

"Mami!" Pepa screamed for help, little hands slapping Bruno as he latched on. Alma closed her eyes tighter, desperately pushing down the hot anger that continued to rise within her.

This wasn't fair. Alma had done everything for them, and it was never enough. It was too hard, too much. She was hungry, tired, sore. She just wanted them to stop, just once.

Julieta tried to pull her brother off from behind, while Pepa shrieked, her voice high pitched and piercing now. "Mami!! Mami Mami Mami Mami-"

"Grrrrr!" Bruno growled, still pretending to be an animal while Julieta tried to stop them.

"Mami Mami Mami Mami-"

"Shut up!" Alma shouted, grabbing Pepa in one hand and Bruno in the other. "Just shut up!"

The room went silent.

Alma tried to catch her breath, staring at the children who hung from her grip, their little bodies tense as they watched Mama, too terrified to make a sound.

The candle on the bedside pulsed and flickered with urgency, and Alma saw her furious face illuminated in the reflection of her children's frightened eyes.

Alma's expression softened and she lowered them back down to the bed, letting go. Bruno and Pepa stared up at her, too scared to move.

Julieta sat very still, dark eyes watching.

Alma took a shaky breath, covering her mouth in shame.

"I'm sorry." Was all she could say. "I'm so sorry..."

She closed her eyes and turned away, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed. Her long black hair fell loose over her face as her shoulders shook and her chest heaved.

The triplets glanced at eachother, unsure what to do.

The bedside table nudged a little and they watched as the candle shuffled forward. A tile flipped up, dancing across the surface to cast shadows on the wall, dancing and making shapes against the candlelight like Mama would sometimes do for them with her hands.

The triplets smiled, coming in closer.

"Casita." Bruno whispered, while Julieta put a finger to his mouth with a knowing smile.

They watched quietly as Casita helped them to feel better, the little tile hopping and spinning and dancing for them.

Pepa put a hand out and the tile skipped over, hopping up into her palm. She kissed the tile, then seeing Bruno's longing expression Pepa handed it over, so Bruno could hold it too. The other tiles on the wall waved in praise, quietly encouraging the children.

Julieta picked up the candle in her little hands and it glowed brighter. She shuffled over to Alma.

"Mami." Julieta said softly, holding it out for her.

Alma wiped her eyes, turning to see her three children huddled together, their eyes bright and hopeful.

She blinked in confusion, because she'd expected them to hate her. But they were so kind, so much like Pedro. They gave Alma so much love, even though she wasn't sure she deserved it.

Later

The triplets lay snuggled up to Mama in bed, watching as she moved her hands over the candle, casting animal shadows over the walls.

The triplets eyes glittered in the candlelight as they watched a shadowy dog, it's long tongue out.

"What's this one?" Alma asked them.

"Bof!" Bruno barked, his smile bright.

Alma grinned, gently kissing his forehead. "That's right, Brunito. It was a dog."

"Dog." Bruno agreed, making panting sounds and sticking out his little tongue.

Alma stroked his soft hair, feeling a tug at her heart as she remembered Pedro. She exhaled slowly, pushing her feelings back down.

"More." Pepa encouraged, bouncing a little in excitement.

Alma smiled, changing the shape for them.

"Chicken." Pepa said quickly, leaning in close so Mama would stroke her hair too.

Alma did, then gently pinched her fingers at Pepa's head like a pecking chicken while her siblings giggled.

"Mami!" Pepa squealed with laughter.

"Bok bok bok." Alma playfully opened and closed her fingers like a beak, then pecked again while her daughter laughed. Pepa held onto Mama's hand so she couldn't open the beak anymore, and Alma made muffled sounds. The triplets grinned.

Pepa let go of Mama's hand, then kissed the beak.

"Love chicken." Pepa told Alma, her eyes shining.

"More." Bruno smiled. "Please Mami."

"Alright, one more." Alma agreed. "Then we go to sleep, hm?"

They nodded, their eyes bright against the candlelight.

Alma put her hands together, flapping her fingers this time.

"Bird!" Pepa called out, bouncing again.

Alma smiled. "Not quite... This is a special one."

Bruno and Pepa gasped, realising it was a butterfly but forgetting how to say it. They attempted the word, their voices clumsy and making Alma laugh.

"It's a big word." She encouraged.

"Mariposa." Julieta spoke in a soft voice. "Like you, Mami."

Alma's expression softened as she felt overcome with pride. She gathered her little daughter into her arms and kissed her face.

Julieta cuddled Mama. It wasn't often Alma focused just on her, so when she did Julieta liked to make it count.

"Love you." Julieta whispered, and Alma's heart melted. She covered Julieta's soft face with kisses.

Pepa and Bruno shuffled in, wanting kisses too. Alma gathered them all close, loving how warm their little bodies felt against her.

Alma kissed the triplets until they closed their eyes, her arms around them as she fell asleep cuddling them.