A/N: This story starts before the film and includes spoilers!
TW: Mentions of blood.
The fic contains Spanish words, which are written using italics.
Disclaimer: I do not own Encanto, the movie rightfully belongs to Disney.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
It was quiet as she was steering her green vines through the dense forest towards what she hoped to be a place where she could have whatever little freedom her imagination dared to design, even if just for a few hours, to escape from the prison of expectations and exhaustion.
The night was peaceful, the stars were as bright as always, nothing disturbed the balance of nature, and it was a relief when she finally reached the steady stream of the river beyond the mountains, despite the chilly atmosphere.
Getting off of her transferring vines, Isabela Madrigal sat down on the fresh grass. She closed her eyes, listening to the calm course of the river. A burning sensation ignited in her chest and she felt the urge to curl up and sob. Deep breaths didn't help, they only worsened her already troubled state.
A weep escaped her, which was just the beginning of the breakdown she had known she was going to have sooner or later. She covered her face with her palms, not noticing the grass and flowers around her begin to wither. She lost track of time as she kept crying her heart out.
Suddenly, something cracked behind her, which caused Isabela to jolt up in a defensive position, instinctively growing two strong vines on each of her sides for protection.
"Who's there?" she spoke warily, her tone harsh because of her stinging throat.
The stranger briefly made no sound, but the quiet was quickly disrupted when she heard a thud, followed by a familiar whimper before someone with short black curly hair face-planted a few feet in front of her. Isabela sighed in annoyance, rolling her eyes and retreating her vines as Mirabel clumsily got up.
"Sorry for scaring you, Isa." she said after she had adjusted her glasses on the freckled bridge of her nose and had dusted off her dark teal skirt. "I saw you-"
"What are you doing here?" the older sister whispered in exasperation, her arms crossed tightly on her chest, an icy, furious stare directed at the ungifted Madrigal, intending to dominate her. "Of all people, why did you have to be in this place at this moment?"
"Isa, please listen to me." Mirabel gently responded, gesturing to further affirm her words. "I saw you leave Casita and you looked pretty upset. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Hermana."
"Alright? Alright?!" Isabela yelled in anguish and rage. She failed to notice the concern in her sister's warm brown eyes, nor the way they began watering when Mirabel witnessed the golden child of the family lose her composure for the first time in years.
"My whole life, I've had to bend before everybody's wishes, to be the perfect girl, whom they all adore, not allowed to make any mistakes, not allowed to be her true self, always burdened with exceeding expectations. For once in twenty-one years, Mirabel, I want to be left alone!"
As she kept stomping ahead, the tears she had been holding back for so long surfacing again, Isabela did not observe the enormous red rose she had sprouted, nor that she had made her sister back away into the trunk of a tree, keeping her from going any farther.
Mirabel desperately attempted to placate her as best as she could, but her begging was left unheard. With an unintentional movement of her arm slicing the air horizontally, the huge rose darted forward, bending its stem awkwardly before a scream awoke the young woman from her rampaging episode.
Isabela's eyes shot wide open. She gaped at her sister's frame, which seemed so tiny at once. Mirabel was facing away from her, one arm wrapped around her midriff as she was caressing her left cheek with the hand of her other arm.
"M-Mirabel?" she stammered, horror making her heart throb. Her sisterly instincts made her reach out to the fifteen-year-old Madrigal immediately, trying to soothe her. She was doing it for the first time in so long. When her trembling fingers came in contact with Mirabel's shoulder, the latter lifted her head and Isabela froze. Mirabel's face was stained with tears that didn't cease to pour. Her left cheek had been awfully scratched by the thorns of the giant rose, causing red droplets to trickle from the fresh cuts.
After a couple of moments, Isabela recovered from the shock. "Mirabel, I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that. It was an accident, really."
Her sibling didn't say anything at first, only eyeing her, staggered, but then she spoke: "I'm deeply sorry for disturbing you, Isa. I-I-I should get going."
She knew she should have stopped her, she knew she should have apologized properly, walk Mirabel home and hold her close just as she had used to do when they had been young, but somehow, her body didn't make a move. Neither did her lips. She simply stared, dumbfounded and perplexed, as her sister started heading back home.
"Hermana, if you ever want to talk, know I'm right here. I'll always be here." Mirabel glanced at her one last time and Isabela could swear she had seen the shadow of a small smile on her face before she turned on her heels, disappearing into the woods.
Had the oldest grandchild of the Madrigal family known how much she would later regret her impulsive decision, she wouldn't have let her walk away.
Mirabel endured terrible soreness in her feet and calves as she was nearing Casa Madrigal. She sighed in relief after the doors had quietly shut behind her, and she headed straight to the kitchen. She kept on ignoring the sight of the few drops of blood on the back of her hands as she spotted a bowl full of her mamá's arepas.
But just as she reached for one of them, a soft, meekly voice spoke behind her: "Prima?"
Mirabel sprang in surprise, her side painfully colliding with the top of the wooden table as she turned around with a gasp. Antonio was holding onto one of the legs of the table, peering up at her with big, scared eyes, his hair dishevelled. Mirabel had to squint to notice his damp cheeks. Her heart ached.
She had not even taken a step towards him, barely having time to extend her arms, when Antonio launched himself at her. He started sobbing into her shoulder as he was clutching her shirt. Hearing him cry hurt Mirabel deeply.
"Toñito, what happened?" she questioned in concern, lovingly encircling his small frame.
"I woke up and you weren't there. I thought you were gone." he said between hiccups, holding tighter onto her.
Mirabel scooped him up in a comforting embrace and he put his small arms around her neck, sniffling. A gentle hand began rubbing his back and rocking him calmly.
"Shhh, it's okay, primo. It's alright. I just came down here for a snack. There's nothing to worry about."
Antonio lifted his head and was met with her reassuring smile. "What's that on your face, Mira?"
¡Miércoles! She hastily wiped at her cheek. Why haven't I been prepared for that?
"It's… um… hogao sauce. I ate some of Mamá's arepas." she responded with a crooked grin, hoping to put him at ease.
Antonio, who was by all means a smart young boy, appeared, oddly enough, convinced, which made her believe it was thanks to the dull light.
"Why don't you go back to sleep, hm? I'll be there in a minute, so don't you worry about me, okay?" She gave him a tender kiss on the forehead and one last warm squeeze, making him titter before he was taken upstairs with the help of Casita.
Mirabel sighed once more, glad that she had been able to calm him down. She grabbed an arepa and hungrily took a bite. The fear that Antonio might have found out about what was actually lying on her cheek had frightened her so greatly that she did not immediately perceive her skin becoming healthy again.
She thankfully didn't have to drag her burning feet along the many stairs on the way to the nursery, Casita made sure of that.
As soon as she was inside the room she had had since childhood, she glanced at her five-year-old cousin with a pleased smile, who was already sleeping soundly. Only after she had changed into her sleeping gown and had laid down onto the sheets did she realize how much the events of that night had worn her out. But luck seemingly was not on her side, as her eyes refused to close and her mind refused to shut up.
The image of Isabela crying was stuck in the depths of her brain. Something was definitely going on with her sister. Isabela wasn't as happy as she without fail came across to be. She was hurting for some reason, she was fighting a solitary battle, judging by her enraged confession.
Only, those expectations, as she had put it, which undeniably caused her much sorrow, were unknown to Mirabel. What kind of expectations? Was she also making sustainable efforts to please Abuela, just like Mirabel was, but nothing ever seemed to be enough anyway?
She simply couldn't grasp what could be so upsetting for her hermana. Anyone whom she met would instantly praise and love her for her perfection (even more than she deserved, according to Mirabel).
Despite this, the girl was astounded when she realized that Isabela had probably been hiding her emotions for a long time. Not any ordinary person would just leave their home at night so that they could bawl somewhere no one could hear them.
But what could possibly be bothering her so much? What is she yearning for? Mirabel asked herself, shifting onto her other side, puzzled. Her oldest sister had everything she could have set her heart on, everything that Mirabel had been denied: a wonderful gift, along with the family's - especially Abuela's - and Encanto's worship and appreciation. Everybody would obediently and unquestionably bow to her if she asked to.
Mirabel pushed the hostility out of her heart. Now that she thought more carefully about it, there had indeed been some inconspicuous details that she had repeatedly missed over the years. For instance, there had been many times when Isabela would beam at everybody around her, but without the corners of her eyes crinkling, which was an obvious sign of a fake smile.
Mirabel sighed as worry and guilt began eating away at her. Worry because she now knew about the golden child's suppressed feelings that she indubitably believed she must keep to herself and not let anyone else know about, guilt because she had been blind to her sibling's suffering for who knows how long and for the way she had talked naughtily to her, judging her without knowing what she was actually going through.
Furthermore, the discovery she had made explained her sister's actions that night. Isabela was most likely fed up with having to pretend to be joyful, which had been the cause of her violent reaction.
She knew Isa had not actually meant to hurt her because no matter how much she had insulted Mirabel in the past with her taunting comments, with the intention to make her feel small and useless to their family and to the other residents of Encanto, Isabela could never be labelled as "heartless" in her youngest sister's eyes. Mirabel knew it had been an accident, and Isabela had apologized for it, which was proof of the hidden kindness, if not sibling love, that Isa still had for her.
There surely was more to Isabela's misery than what Mirabel had already got a hold of. Even though it was hard to let go of the grudge she held against her, Mirabel knew that things had to change. No, she wanted to change things. To try saving - or at least helping - Isabela and for the sake of their relationship which had been falling apart for ages. Mirabel was determined – and felt obliged - to help her sister however she could.
Fatigue eventually caught up to her and Mirabel let herself rest for the few remaining hours of the night, closing her eyes at last.
The upcoming day was going to be better, she promised herself for the millionth time in her life.
The next morning, as she was making her way outside to have breakfast with her family, Isabela couldn't help but keep pondering over what might have happened to Mirabel the previous night. She had only returned home an hour before dawn and had suppressed the urge to check on her sister, continuously repeating to herself that she had probably already eaten one of Julieta's arepas in order to heal.
A sudden thought made her heart skip a beat. Did anyone know about Mirabel's previous state? Would her sister really tell anybody about what had transpired between them? Or where they had been? Only considering that Abuela might know she had sneaked out made cold shivers run throughout her body, but she pushed the fear away. She needed to put on her mask of bliss for the long day that was to come.
Despite the fact that she was making huge efforts to hide it, Isabela knew that fatigue was painted on her features, proof standing the dark circles under her eyes and tousled silky hair. It was the very first bad hair day she had ever had in her life.
With a strained smile hiding her apprehension, she stepped into the morning light, which temporarily blinded her. She noticed her family collecting their food or bringing it to the table. She hugged Dolores, playfully elbowed Camilo's copy of his older sister, almost causing him to drop an arepa con queso and earning a grunt from him before greeting everyone else.
"Mija, you look pale today. Are you feeling alright?" Alma cupped her face in both hands, giving her the habitual morning kiss prior to starting to arrange her hair and scrutinizing her worriedly.
Answering "no" was a former part of Isabela's list of possible responses, so she merely nodded, putting some food onto her plate, with Casita offering her a cup of café con leche, and taking her seat while each of the others did the same.
That was when she noticed the empty seat across from her. On impulse, she glanced in the direction she came from, somehow expecting - and slightly even hoping - to see the familiar pair of round oversized light green glasses pop up.
Where was Mirabel? Was she still hurt and wasn't willing to show up? Despite detesting it, she had an inkling that her conscience wouldn't let go of the contrition until she apologized to her.
Isabela was more concerned about her youngest sister than she would have liked to admit. The events of the night before had surely changed something within her heart, but she couldn't put her finger on what exactly that was.
Nobody seemed to suspect anything related to her though, as her entire family were all easy-going. With the exception of tía Pepa, whose gray thundering cloud just vanished into thin air thanks to tío Félix, the atmosphere was relaxing as usual.
"Where is Mirabel?" Alma impatiently voiced after they had all settled down at the large table.
It seemed that Julieta wanted to say something on her daughter's behalf, but she ultimately didn't need to because the girl in question appeared on Casita's moving floor tiles right after her grandmother had spoken. She excused herself for being late whilst swiftly choosing what to eat. All the seats were finally taken.
Isabela studied her closely. Mirabel was her usual cheerful self, the cuts on her left cheek gone, her skin repaired as if nothing had happened. She peeked at Isabela, but the latter quickly looked away. Was she… ashamed of her sister now? No, that just couldn't be possible.
An uneasy thought sprung to her mind. What if she planned to tell them about her confession? Taking into account that her sister had the chance to get revenge for all the times when she had made her feel insignificant alarmed Isabela greatly. However, her intuition assured her that Mirabel would never do that. It simply wasn't in her nature to do such a spiteful deed.
"I heard movement in the house last night." Alma spoke minutes later, missing the way her oldest and youngest granddaughters instantly froze. "Was any one of you up about an hour after we called it a day?"
Nobody made a sound for a split second. The Madrigals had somewhat of an unspoken rule that they ought not to roam around Casita during nighttime; if they did though, they had to preserve silence so that everybody could rest properly.
"Actually, Abuela, that was me."
Isabela's eyes widened in amazement when she heard Mirabel's voice.
"It was me who went downstairs for a breath of fresh air and a snack." Her tone was steady, denoting assurance of her words as her eyes were fixing the old woman without blinking, looking downright convincing as she awaited her reply.
Isabela was too stunned to make a move. In a fraction of second, she had imagined a heap of possible outcomes to the situation, but Mirabel taking the blame for her had not been amongst them.
She dropped her empanada on her flower-patterned plate, waiting with bated breath to see if Alma picked up on the lie. But she only gazed at the teenager disapprovingly, saying nothing more. Everybody continued their meal.
After they had all finished eating, Luisa announced she was going into town to do her chores and Isabela was on her heels, who was feeling the need to be away from her family, admittedly from her abuela.
Even so, she had not even taken a few steps when she felt a tug on the sleeve of her dress, which caused her to turn around.
"What do you want?" she hissed through gritted teeth.
"I want to spend some quality time with you, Isa." came Mirabel's calm yet resolute response.
"Well, I do not want that. Now go away, I have work to do."
"Work that I'd be glad to help you with."
"You cannot help me. Need I remind you why?" she said with a malicious smirk.
Mirabel faltered momentarily, her expression morphing into a dejected one, but she shook away the feeling, undaunted not to surrender.
"Our familia are watching, Hermana." she pointed with her head towards the others with subtlety.
In her focus to persuade her sister to leave her alone, Isabela had forgotten about their presence. She glimpsed a few of them, noticing Julieta's hopeful look, little Antonio's pleading puppy eyes, Agustín's gentle smile, Félix's thumbs up and encouraging nod. Although Abuela was not too joyous about Mirabel's suggestion, on a totally uncharacteristic whim, Isabela ignored the old woman's frown.
"Fine!" she eventually gave in before striding away. She could literally see Mirabel do a little happy dance behind her with a victorious "yes".
She tried her best to disregard the childhood memories the gesture awoke, she couldn't pin-point where the mix-up of emotions that danced in her soul derived from. Perhaps she had made the decision to let Mirabel tag along so she would be able to release herself of the guilt she had obtained the previous night.
Nevertheless, as soon as she stepped out of the Madrigal residence, super-spirited Mirabel in tow, she mentally slapped herself.
It truly was going to be a long day.
Mirabel was not one to give up easily; she had always known that luck favored the bold. Moreover, for the first time in years, things were looking up for her and Isabela. Or at least that's what she thought.
"Don't get your hopes too high. There's nothing you can really help me with." her sister stated smugly, a shadow of haughtiness crossing her face, which Mirabel didn't miss. Isabela was visibly irritated and embarrassed because she had to be seen walking by her side, she realized with a pang of sadness.
"I'll send you back home if you don't behave. And if you think that taking the blame for me is going to change something between us, know you're horribly wrong."
Despite feeling the sting of familiar rejection punch her gut, Mirabel cheered up almost instantly, focusing on the full half of the glass and refraining to bite back.
"There's no getting rid of me once you have accepted my company, Isa. ¡Vámonos ahora!"
Ignoring the young woman's scoff, Mirabel scurried ahead, the town kids welcoming her with enthusiasm. They held her hands and urged her to keep up with them. She giggled at their antics, watching them fondly and responding kindly to whatever curious questions they had.
It would not be long until the other Madrigals arrived to start their own chores, so she better went about looking for something helpful to do. She noticed Isabela distance herself from her as she was being welcomed by the residents of Encanto, each of whom started making all sorts of requests, from truly needful to rather silly.
Mirabel attentively watched her sister for several minutes as she was hurrying to offer assistance to everybody, including the ones who did not ask for it, but who were grateful nonetheless.
It was painful to see Isabela working, now that she knew the truth about her, with no one noticing her grueling efforts and stress.
She had not made a plan yet, time had been tight, but she wanted to start helping her sister then and there. For the sister she had almost forgotten how much she cherished.
She clutched the strap of her bag, new-found ambition filling her heart with courage.
Throughout the day, she kept close to Isabela, waiting for an opportunity to arise, even though she was completely ignored. She attempted doing little things, like bringing her multiple pots with dying plants so that Isabela could make them grow beautifully, which the twenty-one-year-old woman gladly did.
Mirabel even went on a quest through town in search of citizens who needed her sister's help. To deliver the messages, she used Dolores' gift: she needed to do nothing more than to whisper all the details about the person's location and she would shortly see Isabela come to do her magic.
By the time evening came, Mirabel was even wearier than she had been the previous night. She had no regrets though; she was proud of herself, despite her accomplishments not having been noticed.
Dinner with her family was chatty. She sneaked a few glances at Isabela as she was eating or talking to Abuela about her potential future with Mariano Guzmán.
Mirabel hadn't been expecting gratefulness to come from Señorita Perfecta, at least not so soon, but something broke inside her when dinner was over and Isabela headed to her room straight away without saying a word to her. It was obvious Isabela wanted both of them to forget what had happened and certainly never bring it up, not even between four eyes.
Mirabel felt her hope decrease. What did you expect, idiota? That Señorita Perfecta would magically tell you "Oh Mira, I'm sorry. Let's talk about it and patch things up."? No, she'd never talk to you nicely again, no matter how hard you try to prove yourself to her. You'll be blessed if she even scowls at you.
"Mirabel?"
Julieta had noticed her daughter's disconcerted state and sat next to her. Mirabel jolted, meeting her mother's concerned gaze. She surveyed the dining room; all the other Madrigals were gone.
"Estás bien, mi vida?" she spoke in her soothing voice, her brows curved in dismay. "Is something troubling you?"
Mirabel heaved a sigh from the bottom of her heart. "Mamá, does Isa hate me?"
The question caught Julieta off guard. She squeezed her hija's hand reassuringly. "Mi amor, why are you saying that? You know your sister loves you."
"Does she really?"
Julieta was speechless for a moment, but she quickly cupped Mirabel's face in her warm hands, forcing the girl to look at her. "Mira, Isabela does care about you, even if she doesn't show it much. She and your Abuela are pretty busy most of the time, but that doesn't mean she has no love for you, preciosa."
Mirabel's eyes were large and watery, the tears threatening to spill.
"Please, corazón, just trust what I'm saying, okay? You'll see it yourself."
Mirabel felt a bit more hopeful after the talk with her mother, who didn't only have the gift of healing people with her food, but also with her words.
She went up on the roof of the house and hugged her knees to her chest as she admired the mesmerizing full moon.
Later in her room, she grabbed her sewing kit and started a new design for the gorgeous dress she had been picturing in her mind for a while.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Feedback would be appreciated!
