Chapter Text
It had all started with the party.
The Madrigals were well known for their extravagant parties, and tonight had been no different. Sparklers, fireworks, delicious food, performances, and lots and lots of dancing. Time went by and villagers slowly trickled out of the family home, bellies full of arepas and empanadas, tired from dancing and smiles content. The air finally stilled as the Madrigals went into their respective rooms, and soon not even the Casita was stirring.
Then it happened.
The candlelight flickered, the flame oscillating rapidly in brightness before it pulsed, sending a shockwave that sent the tiles of the house shuddering. Then silence.
As if nothing had happened.
+++
The morning dawn came quietly, and eventually, the faint morning light began to stream through the shutters. Abuela’s face rumpled up at the offending light and opened her eyes, taking a few moments to stare up at the ceiling, adjusting to the light and letting the rest of her body wake up. Then she pushed aside the covers and dangled her legs off the side of her bed.
“Casita,” She started, voice still slightly groggy from sleep. "What time is it?”
The bedside dresser shuffled towards her with the help of the floorboards, and the alarm clock bounced up and down. Eight-Thirty.
“Ay, that girl,” Abuela shook her head and tutted, although it was all in jest and good nature. “She overslept. She talks about wanting to help all the time but neglects her morning wake-up call.” The floorboards creaked in protest. “Joking, Casita. I don’t blame her, the party lasted throughout the night.” She put on her dress and draped a shawl over her shoulders, shivering slightly from the morning cold.
“Buenos días, madre.” Julieta greeted, as Abuela stepped out of her room and ambled out the stairs. “Have a seat, I’m making calentado.” Fragrant aromas wafted gently from the pans she was tending to, the faint hisses and crackles soothing to her ears. By the dining table, sat Luisa, having just finished her morning workout, and Isabela, who had just finished her cup of coffee. Upstairs, she could hear Pepa and Félix coming out for breakfast.
“Buenos días, Abuela.” Luisa addressed her grandmother, alerted to attention by her mother’s greeting. Isabela followed suit, dipping her head respectfully.
“Have you all seen Mirabel today? She didn’t wake me up this morning.” Abuela inquired, sitting down and politely accepting a cup of coffee from the Casita.
“I don’t believe so,” Isabela answered, twirling up a vine of flowers from her fingers idly. “She seemed pretty tired after the party, and she didn’t even say goodnight.”
“To be fair, she was carrying most of that party along,” Luisa butted in. “Everyone seemed to crowd around her.” After the Casita had crumbled to the ground, the townspeople realized how much they valued Mirabel with her amazing seamstress skills, positive and can-do attitude, as well as having gained the favor of all the town’s children. They had kept her occupied throughout the entirety of the night, asking for advice and praising her talent while the children begged her to play games and tell stories with them. She was becoming quite the celebrity.
“Then we can eat while we wait.” Julieta placed steaming plates of beans and rice on the table, the egg atop each one still sizzling. “Agustín’s off chopping wood again, so he’ll be a little late as well.”
“That’s fine.” Abuela was still learning to be lenient and follow a looser regiment, so she wasn’t too annoyed. “Just make sure everyone’s fed, up and running before noon.”
They all sat in relative silence as they ate, the others filtering in every few minutes or so. But eventually, everyone had arrived, ate, and gone off to get ready for their daily chores. All that remained on the table was Mirabel’s plate, her food only growing colder and colder.
Julieta frowned. It wasn’t like her daughter to be asleep so late, even after an exuberant party.
“Mirabel! ¡Tu desayuno se enfriará si no bajas aquí!” She yelled, but there was no answer. She may not have Dolores’ super hearing, but she heard nothing, no “Sorry mamá, I’m coming!”, no panicked yelp at the realization of oversleeping, not even a sound of sleepy protest as to whether or not her shout had disturbed her. Her worry only grew as she turned to her eldest, who had just finished getting ready and was just about to swing down from the second floor.
“Isabela, could you check on Mirabel?”
“Yes, mamá.”
The eldest sister knocked on Mirabel’s door(they had decided that it was cruel for Mirabel to stay in the nursery, and during the reconstruction process had built a room for her, much to Mirabel’s delight). But there was no answer, yet again. “Mirabel? I’m coming in.”
Isabela walked in, admiring the decorations her baby sister had put up. Embroidery plans and projects lay abandoned next to her sewing machine, some even stuck onto her wall and all around her bed. She was happy to see the potted caléndulas she had given her as an apology gift still flourishing on a wall-mounted shelf, and a tender smile graced her lips when she noticed that Mirabel was in the process of making a stuffed toucan for Antonio . Isabela chuckled when she spotted a lumpy mass shifting underneath the cream-colored covers on the bed. She sat at the edge of the mattress and waited for a minute.
“Bel,” She started, voice gentle as to not startle her sister, “ Mamá’s been calling for you for a while now. She’s been worried that something’s happened to you. It’s time to get up, you sleepy little campanilla.” When that didn’t even garner a response, Isabela yanked aside the covers and her playfulness quickly morphed into complete and utter shock, her shriek quickly muffled as she clamped her hands around her mouth shut.
Because underneath those covers, was Mirabel, looking as if she were no older than five years old. It looked exactly like the Mirabel that had followed her around like a little duckling when Isabela had first gotten her powers, the same one that had cried herself to sleep after her gift ceremony.
And her heart almost stopped when little Mirabel blinked hazily and yawned cutely. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, and then focused her large, doe eyes on Isabela.
“Isa?”