Chapter Text
Life in Casa Madrigal had gotten a lot sweeter in the months following its reconstruction. Not just for Mirabel, but all of the family. Luisa had since discovered the previously foreign concept of a 'day off', which helped lighten her workload considerably. Isabela's new gardens were thriving — so much so that the pollen had become somewhat of a nuisance, but no one was complaining. Well, not yet, anyway.
Bruno was adjusting about as well as one could expect after having spent the past decade living in walls with rats as his only company — which was to say, not great, but getting there.
For all the progress they had made, individually and collectively, it stood to reason that not all wounds would heal as seamlessly as the cracks in their magical house. The important thing was that they were healing, and would continue to do so no matter what challenges awaited them.
As for Mirabel's cousins?
"Antonio!" Dolores shouted as she stormed out of her youngest brother's room, angrily shaking a hairbrush over her head.
Oh, boy. Dolores was raising her voice again. She'd been doing that more often, lately. Between Antonio's newfound mischievous streak, Camilo being... Camilo, and Mariano's steady stream of marriage proposals, it seemed Dolores's patience had started to wear thin. As a result, Dolores was sounding more like her mother every day. The only thing missing right now was the thunder.
"Mirabel," Dolores began as she spotted her youngest cousin walking over, "have you seen Antonio?"
Mirabel quickly shook her head. "Nope! Is there a problem?"
Dolores held out her brush. "Antonio used my favorite brush on that gran felino of his!"
Mirabel adjusted her glasses to see what looked like yellow fur sticking out of the brush... and sticking out of Dolores's hair, as well. "That... could have come from anywhere?" she said in defense of her younger cousin.
Dolores made a face and called out to Antonio once more. "You can't hide from me, Tonito! I know where you live!"
Mirabel gave Dolores a half grin, half grimace before changing the subject. "So, how are you feeling about your big date coming up? Nervous?"
Dolores let out an indignant squeak. "I'm not nervous, okay? I just want to make sure I look my best in case he proposes again."
"Doesn't he try to propose on all of your dates?" Mirabel asks with a dry tone.
"Not all of them..." Dolores trailed off before sighing. "Okay, most of them. But I think this time might be different."
Mirabel didn't see what could be different about yet another Mariano proposal. Unless... "Wait, are you thinking about saying yes?"
Dolores gave a noncommittal shrug and looked off to the side. "...Maybe."
"Oh my gosh! That's a big deal!" Mirabel cried with glee. "I mean, it doesn't have to be a big deal. Unless you want it to be. In which case, it totally is! Either way, I'm happy for you! Or I will be when it happens. If it happens. No pressure."
Dolores smiled. "Thanks, Mirabel."
"No problem. And if you are nervous about it, you know you can always talk to me, or your mom, or anybody, right?"
"I know. In the meantime, I need to find my hand mirror. Have you seen it?"
"I haven't. But don't worry, you look great!" Mirabel reassured her.
"Yeah, sis, you look great!" Camilo came up to them, mimicking Dolores's appearance, right down to the strands of jaguar fur in her hair. "See?" He stood next to his sister and held up her 'missing' mirror for Dolores to look at their reflections — or rather, her own reflection, in stereo.
"Give me that!" Dolores said as she snatched the mirror from Camilo. "You and Antonio stay out of my room!" She then gave a high-pitched snort and headed back to her room. "And will somebody please go see who's at the front door? That dripping sound is going to drive me loco!"
So, yeah. Occasional squabbles aside, Mirabel's cousins hadn't changed much — not that she would have it any other way.
The house was strong, the magic was strong, but most importantly, the family's love for one another was stronger than ever.
Now, what was Dolores saying about the front door?
Hola, mi nombre es...
Waiting outside of the colorful Colombian home, Elsa went over her Spanish in her head one last time before ringing the doorbell. The Water Spirit, Nokk, stood stoically by Elsa's side as she reached her hand toward the door and brushed her fingers across the beautifully crafted — and apparently glowing — picture of what she presumed to be the Madrigal family.
Then the door opened, and Elsa sheepishly withdrew her hand as she was greeted by the young woman whose bespectacled visage was front and center on the door.
"Hello—" Elsa said in Spanish, only to be cut off when the girl caught sight of the Nokk, yelped in surprise, and hurriedly shut the door in their faces.
In hindsight, Elsa probably should've let Nokk stay by the river.
Mirabel opened the door again with an embarrassed smile, offering an apology to her unexpected visitors. "Wow, sorry! That was rude of me. Um—"
"It's all right," the woman said with a calming smile, "I'd forgotten how intimidating he can be to someone seeing him for the first time."
She then patted the horse, prompting Mirabel to take another look at it. Unmoving and unblinking, she might've mistaken it for a statue if not for its flowing mane. Like, literally flowing. Glancing down at the doorstep, Mirabel could see that the tiles beneath the creature were wet.
"Is it just me, or is your horse... sort of... melting?" Mirabel asked.
"Oh," the woman said, following Mirabel's gaze. "Sorry, he's not used to being on dry land in this climate. I'll take care of it." She passed a hand through the horse's watery mane, which then transformed into strings of sparkling, crystalline ice.
"Whoa," Mirabel said in awe. "You have magic?"
Before Elsa could answer, the tiles beneath her shifted and sloped to allow the excess water to drain into the ground.
"I do," she said with a giggle, "and it appears your house does as well. This is the Madrigal residence, I presume?"
Mirabel nodded and extended her hand. "It is. Name's Mirabel. How can I help you?"
"My name is Elsa," Elsa said, shaking hands with Mirabel. "I am looking for a young lady by the name Pepa Madrigal. Is she a relative of yours?"
"Tia Pepa? Sure, I'll go see if she's available—"
A gasp drew their attention to the stairwell, where Camilo stood, staring at Elsa and her water horse in a state of shock.
"Madre Agua!" Camilo shouted, pointing directly at Elsa.
"Mother... Water?" Elsa repeated, understanding the words but unsure of their significance.
"Ay, Mamá!" Camilo turned and called back up the stairs, "La Madre Agua is here to see you! Whatever she says, I didn't do it!"
"Camilo!" Pepa yells in response from somewhere upstairs. "What have I told you about yelling across the house? It's bad for your sister's ears!"
Dolores peaked out of her doorway to chime in. "It's fine, Mamá!"
"Hear that, Mami? Dolores says it's fine!"
"I heard her, 'Milo! Don't you sass me!"
"Yes, Mami!"
Camilo ran up the stairs, leaving Elsa and Mirabel to look at each other in varying states of confusion.
"Don't mind Camilo," Mirabel said. "He's kind of a..."
"Teenager," Elsa noted with curiosity. "And Pepa is his mother? How old is she, exactly?"
"She'll be turning 51 pretty soon. Why do you ask?"
Elsa's pale face became even paler. "...Oh. I'm just wondering if perhaps the words 'come of age' have a different meaning in your language than they do in mine..."