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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..."

Chapter Text

Mirabel wasn't sure of the proper etiquette for inviting in visitors from outside the Encanto — because, to her knowledge, they'd never had any — but Elsa seemed like a nice lady, and Mirabel felt a little bad about slamming the door in her face, so she brought her inside. Mirabel led Elsa into the living room, where Abuela Alma spotted them as she came down the stairs. 

"Mirabel?" Alma asked, "We have a visitor?"

Like Mirabel, Alma knew pretty much everyone who lived in the Encanto, so the sight of a stranger took her by surprise, to say the least. Still, ever the graceful hostess, Alma greeted their guest with a welcoming smile.

"Yes, Abuela!" Mirabel answered. "And she has a gift, like us! Well, I mean, like most of us, anyway—"

Alma interrupted her granddaughter with a pat on the shoulder. "Like all of us, Mirabel," she said, smiling. "Don't you forget that."

Mirabel smiled back. "I won't, Abuela."

Elsa gave a respectful nod to the Madrigal matriarch, but before introductions could be made, Camilo and his parents descended the stairs next, followed by Dolores.

"Ay, Camilo!" Pepa said. "What is all of the commotion about?"

"I'm trying to tell you," Camilo said, "La Madre Agua is here!"

Beside him, Félix laughed. "Son, that's just an old legend! She doesn't exis—" Félix changed his tune when he caught sight of Elsa and his eyes widened with shock. "Dios mío! She does exist!"

"Félix!" Pepa said, admonishing her husband. "Don't encourage the boy with these fairytales!" She then turned to Elsa with a discerning eye. "I'm sure the young woman has an actual name, yes?"

With that, all attention turned to Elsa — and, by extension, Mirabel.

"Mirabel," Alma asked, "would you like to introduce us to our visitor?"

"Oh! Right!" Mirabel said, still trying to get the hang of this whole 'center of attention' thing. "Everyone, this is Elsa! Elsa, this is my Abuela Alma, Tía Pepa, Tío Félix, and my cousins: Camilo and Dolores!"

Elsa waved meekly as she addressed the Madrigal household. "Hello! It is a pleasure to meet you all. You have such a lovely family. I—"

"You!" A voice coming from upstairs interrupted her. Everyone turned to find Bruno peering over the railing with wide eyes directed toward Elsa. He then took notice of everyone else staring back at him and backed away slowly, knocking on various surfaces until he disappeared through the doorway behind him. Elsa looked around in confusion at the other Madrigals, who simply carried on as if this was a normal occurrence.

"That's... my Tío Bruno," Mirabel said to Elsa, without further explanation.

"My son can be a bit shy at times," Alma added. "In fairness, it is not every day that we see a new face around the Encanto." 

"Ah," Elsa said, nodding. "Well, I suppose you'll be getting new visitors more often, now that a pathway through the mountains has formed."

A disconcerting silence fell over the house, as the Madrigals exchanged glances with varying degrees of uneasiness.

"So... as I was saying," Elsa continued, changing the subject, "I noticed you have quite a large family, judging by the picture at the front door. Do all of you live here together?"

Mirabel nodded. "We do! Besides us, there's also my younger cousin, Antonio, who I'm sure is around here, somewhere..."

Dolores, who'd remained quiet up to this point, leaned her head to the side. "I hear him, now. He's outside, talking to the horse."

"Oh, good," Mirabel said, continuing, "and then there's my parents and my older sisters, who are already in town for the day—"

"Hang on," Camilo said, interrupting Mirabel to address Dolores, "you mean the water horse?"

"What is a 'water' horse?" Pepa asked. "Is that like a seahorse?"

Camilo shook his head. "Nonono, it's an actual horse made of actual water."

Dolores shrugged with a squeak. "That explains the dripping."

"What are you talking about?" Pepa asked, looking even more confused. "That doesn't explain anything!"

Camilo gestured to Elsa, who was scrunching her face trying to follow the conversation. "Uh, hello? It explains that she's Madre Agua!"

Félix crossed his arms. "Camilo, there is nothing in the legend about a horse made of water."

Elsa raised a hand, hoping to interject. "For the record, the Nokk isn't actually... Wait," she paused and looked to Mirabel, "what did she mean by 'talking' to the horse?"

"Talking to animals is Antonio's gift," Mirabel explained.

"But Nokk isn't an animal," Elsa said. "He's—"

"—the water spirit!" Antonio said, sitting on top of 'Nokk' as it strode into the living room. Antonio waved to Elsa, while she and the rest of the Madrigals stared in stunned silence. "And you must be Elsa! Nokk told me so much about you. I don't know what any of it means, but it sounds really cool!"

Elsa smiled, trying and failing to maintain a calm façade. "That's... nice," she said before addressing her horse. "Nokk, could you very carefully let the small child down, please?"

"Don't worry, I've got him," Pepa said, picking Antonio up off of Nokk. "Mi niño, what have I told you about riding other people's animals without asking permission?"

"But I did ask permission!" Antonio argued.

"I mean the owner's permission."

"Oh. Sorry, Mamá." Antonio turned his head toward Nokk. "What's that?" he asked, before nodding a few times in response to something. "Nokk says he doesn't have an owner. Elsa is his guardian; it's part of her role as protector of the four elemental spirits."

Pepa made a face. "You don't know what any of that means either, do you?"

Antonio shook his head, then turned to Nokk again, eyes widening as he looked back to his mother. "He says... they're looking for a new guardian. They think it's you."

"Me?" Pepa asked, shifting her gaze from Antonio to Nokk, then to Elsa. "I don't understand. What is my son saying?"

Elsa wrung her hands anxiously as she replied, "Perhaps I should explain the reason why I came here."

If the foreboding feeling wasn't already written on Pepa's face, it could certainly be found in the dark cloud forming above her head. 

At that point, Alma stepped in to diffuse the tension in the room the best way she knew how: "Why don't we sit down and discuss this over drinks?"

Chapter Text

Mirabel led Elsa and the others out to the patio while Abuela and Dolores got the drinks ready. Elsa looked a little freaked out to find Antonio's jaguar lurking around outside, but not as freaked out as the Jaguar was about the Nokk. Antonio waved over to it, but the poor thing took one look at the water spirit, hissed, and ran off into the woods.

Casita slid some chairs over to the patio table for everyone to sit; Mirabel, Elsa, and Antonio (with Nokk stoically standing by) sat on one side, while Pepa, Félix, and Camilo sat on the opposite. Elsa smiled across the table at Pepa, who very calmly (perhaps too calmly, to those familiar with her) cleared her throat.

"So," Pepa began, "tell us, Señorita Elsa: what brings you to the Encanto?"

"I recently learned of your village as a source of great and powerful magic," Elsa explained. "I wanted to come and see it for myself."

"And how would you say you 'learned of' our village?" Pepa asked.

"My connection with nature lends me insight into the realms of the supernatural. You see, in addition to my role as protector of the spirits, I also serve as the bridge between the magic of nature and the spirit of humanity. It is my job to keep them in balance with one another, and that requires me to stay abreast of their interactions."

As Elsa spoke, the Madrigals looked around amongst each other with similarly bewildered expressions. Who was this lady?

"So..." Camilo asked, "are you Madre Agua, or not?"

Félix groaned. "Camilo, that's enough!"

"It's all right," Elsa assured him. "I suppose I could be, in some way. Nokk and I have garnered many names across different cultures over the years. I'm not familiar with this 'Mother Water' legend, but my home was once known as the 'Mother River' , so it's possible they may share a similar origin."

Félix chuckled. "Well, yes, what my son refers to is the old Colombian folktale of La Madre de Agua: a beautiful young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes who resides in the river. However, the legends also characterize her as a vengeful enchantress who would use her siren song to lure young people to the water and drown them."

Elsa's face paled. "...Oh."

Pepa rolled her eyes but smiled fondly nonetheless.  "My husband used to tell Camilo that to keep him from always wandering off to the river by himself when he was younger."

"He used to want to be a mermaid when he grew up," Dolores said, chiming into the conversation in progress as she often did. She ignored the angry look Camilo was shooting her as she and Abuela brought out the drink trays with an assortment of cups, pitchers, kettles, and a wine bottle for good measure.

"Dolores," Camilo said through his teeth, "you weren't supposed to tell anyone about that!"

Dolores hummed as she set her tray down. "And you weren't supposed to take things from my room." She also gave a pointed look across the table at Antonio, who cautiously smiled back. "That goes for you too, hombrecito."

"Well," Elsa said, "I can assure you that I have no intentions of drowning anyone."

Antonio suddenly looked in the water spirit's direction. "Nokk says that's his job," Antonio said, now drawing stares from the rest of the table.

Elsa paused before playing it off with a laugh. "Oh, Nokk is such a kidder..."

Antonio waited for a beat before replying, "He says he takes his job very seriously."

Alma decided this was a good time to change the subject. "I assumed everyone would be having their usual," she said as she began to pass drinks around the table. "Señorita Elsa," she asked, "what would you like to have?"

Elsa politely raised her hand to decline. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I'm afraid I don't drink."

"That is not a problem, dear," Alma replied, "we have many non-alcoholic options to choose from: coffee, tea, juice—"

Elsa interrupted. "My apologies. What I mean to say is that I don't drink anything. At all. You see, I am not only a guardian of the spirits; I'm also one of them."

Once again, the family found themselves in a state of stunned silence until Camilo spoke up. "So, are we sure she's not—ow!" he said before Félix nudged him with his elbow. "What?"

Alma poured some extra wine into her glass and sat down.

"Where I come from," Elsa continued, "I am called the Fifth Spirit. There have been others before me, many of whom have received different gifts and have held different titles but served the same general purpose. I've come here because I believe Pepa is meant to be the next to serve that purpose."

"Why me?" Pepa asked, paying no mind to the cloud forming above her. "I'm not the only one in my family with a gift!"

Elsa waved her hand, and the cloud dissipated in a flurry of wind and snow, much to Pepa's astonishment (as well as her annoyance). 

"You and I share a similar connection with nature," Elsa said. "Although my magic is a bit more specialized, our powers are very comparable. The weather responds to our emotional states, but over time, I've learned to master it. Pepa, I believe you may be merely scratching the surface of what you are capable of. Under my guidance, you could grow to reach your full potential—"

"Your guidance? My potential?" Pepa's cloud returned as she frowned in indignation. "Listen, chiquita—"

"Pepa," Alma interrupted, "please, be respectful. Señorita Elsa is a spirit and our guest."

"But Mamá," Pepa argued as she stood from her chair, "spirit or no spirit, I should not have to sit here and be patronized by some outsider in my own home!"

"Pepa..."

The cloud above Pepa grew and darkened as she continued. "She thinks she can come here and talk to me about 'reaching my potential'? I am fifty years old!"

"Then act like it," Alma said, effectively silencing her daughter.

"Tía Pepa," Mirabel said, hoping to ease the tension, "I don't think Elsa meant to come off that way. Why don't we just hear her out so we can have a better idea of what she's trying to say?"

Elsa nodded in agreement. "I meant no disrespect, but I do apologize for any offense taken."

After a pause, Pepa took a deep breath, muttering, "Clear skies, clear skies..." as she let Félix coax her back into her seat. "Fine," she said as the clouds evaporated. "It's just that 'potential' isn't the type of thing you think about when you're my age."

"Understandable," Elsa said. "If I could've come here sooner, I would have."

Pepa raised an eyebrow. "So, what stopped you?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure. Typically, a Fifth Spirit becomes visible on the supernatural spectrum once they've come of age, but up until a few months ago, the magic within your village was virtually undetectable."

"Is that weird?" Mirabel asked.

Elsa shook her head. "Uncommon, but not unheard of. Many years ago, the home of the elemental spirits became shrouded within an impenetrable fog, isolating them from the rest of the world. It took acts of great sacrifice from my sister and I to finally free their home and all who inhabited it. I'm curious, though; was there some major event that happened recently, which could've led to your village being visible to the outside world again?"

Suddenly, everyone at the table was looking at Mirabel. "Well..." Mirabel reluctantly began before Pepa held out a hand to halt her.

"Why do you wish to know?" Pepa asked Elsa, eyes narrowing.

"It would help in understanding why it took such a long time for me to find you," Elsa said.

"But why were you even looking for me? Why do you need look for the next 'Fifth Spirit' at all? I mean look at you! You must be half my age! How long have you been doing this?"

"Ah, well, it's been so long..." Elsa trailed off, losing herself in thought. "I became the Fifth Spirit after my sister turned 21, but just before my birthday, so that would've been in the fall of '43, maybe?"

Mirabel shrugged. "Well, I guess seven years could seem like a long time—"

"Seven?" Elsa interrupted, surprised. "Oh, my mistake. I haven't really had to keep track of dates since the turn of the century. It would've been 1843."

Once again, the table fell silent. "Okay," Mirabel eventually said, "make that a hundred and seven years. Yeah, that — that definitely qualifies as a long time."

Pepa remained skeptical. "If you've been doing this for so long, why stop now?"

Elsa sighed. "Being the bridge between man and nature requires one to be in touch with each side — to understand them, their wants, and their needs. It has been fifty years since... well, since I lost my connection to one of those sides. At this point, I'm more spirit than human, and that isn't ideal for keeping things in balance." 

Lost in her thoughts, Elsa didn't notice her shoulders slumping until she felt a hand on one of them. Surprised, she turned to find Mirabel with a look of concern on her face.

"You 'lost connection'? What does that mean?" Mirabel asked.

"It's... not important," Elsa replied as she straightened up and turned to Pepa. "What is important is that I find the next Fifth Spirit — one who can better relate to the current struggles of mankind."

Pepa crossed her arms. "And you think someone at my age is the best option for that?"

Elsa grimaced. "I was not aware of how old you were until I came here—"

"And yet, you knew of my gift already," Pepa pointed out. "How?"

"Ahtohallan — the Mother River I told you about — it shows me things. It tends to be a bit selective as far as what it shows and when; perhaps if you saw it for yourself, you could have a better understanding—"

Pepa cut her off. "Where is this Rio Madre you speak of?"

"It's a few miles off the northern coast of Norway."

Pepa's eyes bulged. "What? That's halfway across the world!"

"It's only about a quarter of the way," Elsa corrected. "Nokk can travel great distances on water in a short amount of time—"

"You can't expect me to go all the way to Europe! I've never even been outside of the Encanto before!"

"You wouldn't have to — at least, not until you're ready."

"When would I be ready? When I'm sixty?" Pepa felt Félix's hand grasping hers in an effort to calm her down, but the sky was already turning gray. "I have children to raise! You cannot ask me to just abandon my family!"

"I'm not asking you to," Elsa insisted. "If anything, I'm offering you this opportunity to protect your family."

Pepa tilted her head to the side as thunder roared in the background. "Come again?"

Over the years, the Madrigals had developed certain practices for scenarios they referred to as 'Prepare for Pepa'. It was never meant to be a slight against her, just the reality of having a relative who could start a natural disaster on a whim. Everyone knew what to look for — the shifting winds, the changes in intonation, the nervous ticks — and everyone would play their parts accordingly. 

Félix, Camilo, Antonio, and Isabela would deploy various de-escalation tactics to calm Pepa down. Dolores was to stay out of her mother's sight, because hearing Pepa's thundering would hurt her ears, and seeing Dolores upset made Pepa more upset, which only made the circumstances worse for both of them. Mirabel had taken on Bruno's old role as the town's early warning system, alerting everyone to stay indoors if necessary. Alma, Julieta, and Luisa would handle damage control in the aftermath.

All of this was to say that the family had grown accustomed to dealing with these scenarios, and everyone generally understood what needed to be done to avoid catastrophe. Elsa, being an outsider, did not. 

She turned her attention toward the mountains in the distance — particularly in the direction of the rift that had formed in them months ago. 

"Beyond those mountains is a country embroiled in war and violence. With your village no longer being as hidden as it once was, it is inevitable that the conflicts of the outside world will find their way to your doorstep. But part of a Fifth Spirit's role is to be a peacemaker — to understand and help settle long-standing disputes. The role grants you access to knowledge and abilities that would help protect you and your family from those dangers—"

Pepa rose from her seat abruptly as rain began to pour down. "Is this some type of ultimatum? Are you threatening us?"

Elsa sat back in her chair, stunned. "What? No! Why would you think that?"

"I may not know the outside world, but I'm not naive," Pepa said, staring with wild eyes as the wind around her began to swirl. "You come here with promises of knowledge and power if I do what you say, but what happens if I don't?"

"Pepa, please," Alma said. By this point, she and the rest of the family were standing at attention. "You need to calm down!"

Pepa whirled around to face her mother. "Calm down? Are you listening to what this woman is saying?"

"I am," Alma replied, "and I think you are overreacting."

"Overreacting? She says if I don't run off to become this 'spirit guardian', our family will be in danger!"

"I said nothing of the sort!" Elsa said as she stood to her feet as well. "The dangers will come regardless!"

The rain was now falling in torrents as Pepa stared Elsa down through drenched locks of red hair. "You should leave," Pepa said.

"Wait," Alma said. "Pepa, she is telling the truth."

"How would you know?" Pepa asked. "How can you be so quick to take the word of an outsider?"

"Because I have experienced life outside of the Encanto," Alma replied. "If she says the dangers are coming, I believe her."

"Of course." Pepa laughed. "Of course, you would take the side of some 'powerful spirit' over your own flesh and blood's."

"I am not taking sides—"

"Liar! You are always taking sides!" 

Silence fell once more, save for the spattering of rain and crackling of thunder in the background. Alma, shocked by her daughter's outburst, had nothing to say. Elsa stood uncomfortably still as this tense family squabble unfolded in front of her. Félix hugged Pepa's side comfortingly as he gestured for Camilo to lead Antonio and a sensory-overloaded Dolores into the house. That left Mirabel to be the one who finally spoke up.

"C'mon, Tía," Mirabel said, "you know that's not true."

Pepa scoffed. "Of course, it is! You should know it better than any of us!"

Mirabel flinched at Pepa's words as if stung by them. Elsa offered the girl an awkward but reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Pepa, you've said enough," Alma finally said before turning to Elsa. "Espíritu, my daughter is right. You should go."

Mirabel's eyes widened with surprise. "But Abuela—"

Alma calmly raised her hand to continue. "This is a very important discussion for our family to have — one that I believe I may have put off for far too long — but perhaps this is not the best time for us to have it."

Elsa reluctantly nodded. "I understand."

Alma smiled despite the circumstances. "You are welcome to return once I have spoken with my children, but until then, I believe it would be best for everyone for you to leave."

Elsa nodded again before saying goodbye to the remaining family members present and heading off with the water spirit in the direction of the river. As she left, the wind and rain subsided, and Pepa tentatively approached her mother.

"Mamá," Pepa asked, "when you mentioned a discussion we needed to have, what discussion were you talking about?"

Alma sighed. "Your whole lives, I have always stressed the importance of keeping the magic surrounding the Encanto strong. What I have never explained to you is why."

Chapter Text

Holding a family meeting outside of their usual meal times was rare for the Madrigals. Having anything good to come out of such meetings was even rarer. So, when Abuela decided they needed to hold one as soon as possible, Mirabel couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. Thankfully, they wouldn't have to wait long to have it, as the storm clouds over Casita had alerted Mirabel's parents and sisters to Pepa's evident distress. Julieta and Luisa rushed home from the town square and received a brief explanation of what had happened from Mirabel, along with a[n] [over]dramatic reenactment by Camilo. 

"And then the spirit lady said—"

"She has a name, Camilo," said Mirabel, as Camilo proceeded to transform into Elsa.

"'For I, Elsa, Guardian of the Spirits, am also a spirit!'"

"She didn't sound anything like that."

"'And you," said Camilo as Elsa, pointing emphatically at no one in particular, "Pepa Madrigal, are also also a spirit!'"

"I don't recall her actually referring to Tía as a spirit."

Camilo returned to his regular form. "Hey, whose story is this?"

Mirabel scoffed. "Uh, mine? I was telling it first!"

Meanwhile, Augustin and Isabela had come all the way from the farmlands on the far side of town, so it took them a bit longer, but they made it back as quickly as they could.

"Mi amor," Augustin said to Julieta as she greeted him and Isabela at the door. "Is everything okay?"

"I hope so," Julieta said, though her tone betrayed greater concern. "Mamá wanted to wait for the whole family before she told us anything."

"Wow, and she even waited for me?" Augustin joked.

"Be serious, querido."

Augustin paused as their eldest daughter made her way inside ahead of them. "You're right. She was probably just waiting for Isabela."

Julieta gave an exasperated shake of her head. "Let's go."

While waiting, Pepa kept herself occupied by pacing up a literal storm in the living room. Félix walked stride for stride with her, despite the winds howling in his face, offering comforting words whenever he could.

"You do not understand, Félix," Pepa said to her doting husband. "Mamá has told the story a thousand times, and every time, it's the same. If there's anything she hasn't told us, it's because she left it out, and if she left it out, that means she wanted to keep it a secret. And when Mamá wants to keep a secret, it's usually very bad."

"I know, Pepi," Félix said, "but she's already agreed to tell us. There's no reason to stress yourself out over it beforehand."

"No reason?" Pepa could think of plenty. She whirled around to face Félix, ready to name a few when suddenly Isabela swooped in to present her with a lush bouquet of lavender flowers.

"Flowers, Tía?"

Pepa sighed, accepting the flowers and taking a deep breath to let their calming scent sink in. "Thank you, Isa," she said, smiling as the winds began to settle down.

"Wonderful," said Alma, coming down the stairs with Bruno in tow. "Now everyone is here."

Well, nearly everyone. Doing a quick headcount, Mirabel noted one absence. "Wait, where's Dolores?" 

"Not to worry," Alma replied, "she'll be listening from another room."

Oh, boy. If Abuela had arranged for Dolores to be out of sight ahead of time, then that meant pre-emptive Prepare for Pepa protocol was already in place. Over the years, Mirabel had come to understand that to be a really bad sign. Judging by the sudden drop in temperature, Pepa understood that as well.

I've told you all the story, many times. Julieta, Bruno, Pepa; you three had just been born when the attacks began. Your father and I fled along with many others, but we could not escape... and your Padre was lost.

What I have never told you was that Pedro did not believe the attacks had happened at random. 

"Pedro, what is happening?"

"Those men... I recognize some of them from the temple."

"Temple? What temple? Pedro—"

"Not now. We have to go."

He believed those men were looking for something. Something of great spiritual importance. I didn't ask what he knew about the men, or what they might be searching for; my only concern was to get my family to safety. Pedro promised to explain later... but 'later' never came.

When we fled into the wilderness, none of those men had followed.  We thought we would be safe. The jungle was notoriously difficult to navigate at night. But even in the cover of darkness, they were able to find us easily. 

"They're coming!"

"What? How?"

"Everyone, just keep moving!"

"They're on horseback! There is nowhere to go!"

As panic set in within our group, Pedro suggested that whatever they were looking for, they had used to track our movements. If that were the case, then no matter how far we ran, we would never be safe. 

And so, Pedro made the decision to confront the men — a decision which cost him his life, but ultimately saved us all. By his sacrifice, we were given a miracle, and that miracle provided us with a refuge. With protection. With a home. It did not, however, provide us with peace of mind.

"We cannot expect to stay in this place forever!"

"Why not? No one knows we are here!"

"Won't someone notice an entire mountain range sprouting up overnight?

"The magic will keep us safe!"

"And what happens when the magic runs out?"

The months that followed were a tense time, to say the least. Even as we worked to build our community, many questioned how long the miracle would last. What would we do if the mountains ever fell, just as swiftly as they had risen? What would happen if someone ever came looking for us again? What if Pedro was right, and whatever they were after could very well lead them straight to our new home?

The answers never came... nor did anyone else. Some assumed that Pedro had been mistaken. Others believed it was the miracle that kept invaders at bay. Whatever the case, we were grateful. More importantly, we were safe.

"Okay, sorry, timeout," said Bruno, breaking the silence from the rest of the room. Up to that point, he'd stood quietly opposite Alma; his sisters huddled at his side with their husbands and children close behind them. "If Papá thought those guys had a way to find us, how come this is our first time hearing about it?"

Alma hung her head regretfully. "I have spent the past fifty years living with the fear that the invaders would return. I did not wish for my children and grandchildren to grow up subjected to those same fears."

"So, why tell us this now?" asked Julieta. "What does it all mean?"

"Our gifts may have been restored, but the miracle candle was not." All heads turned to the empty ledge on which the family's most prized possession once sat. "It was the candle's magic which kept us hidden for all these years. The spirit confirmed this when she said she had only recently been able to find us."

"Not 'us'," said Pepa, her eyes darkened, downcast, and eerily vacant. "The spirit didn't say she was searching for the Encanto. She came here to find me." A dark cloud formed over Pepa as she turned to Alma. "Tell me, Mamá — those men who attacked the old village... it was me they were looking for, wasn't it?"

Alma sighed. "We don't know that, Pepa."

"But you think it, don't you? That's why you believed the spirit. Without the miracle to keep us hidden, she was able to find our home. And she found it because of me." Pepa's voice shook as she fought to keep her emotions in check. She began to draw away the family before continuing. "If what she says is true — if I was meant to be this important spirit guardian — then what happened that night, to our village, to our father... It was all my fault."

Julieta gasped. "Pepa, no..."

But it was worse than that. If the spirit was right, then the dangers that once forced them from their home would inevitably come to threaten their home again.

"Mi vida…" Félix reached out for Pepa, but she pulled away, turning toward the stairs. Various members of the family called to her, but it was only her mother's voice that gave her pause.

"Pepa," Alma said. "Please, listen to me. No matter what Pedro believed, no matter what the invaders wanted, no matter what the spirit says, none of what happened was your fault. I need you to understand that."

Alma's words came with such conviction that Pepa couldn't help but believe her. But Pepa knew her mother well enough to know that those things did matter. If there was even a slight chance that Pepa was the reason she had lost her home and the love of her life, Alma's words would carry a much different type of conviction toward Pepa than they did now.

"Of course, Mamá," said Pepa as she continued up the stairs, dark cloud and all. "I understand."

She did understand. Pepa understood that she was not who Elsa was looking for. She was not a person of 'spiritual importance'. The dangers were not coming regardless. The spirit was wrong, plain and simple. Pepa was certain of it. For herself and her family's sake, she had to be.

Chapter Text

Elsa found Ahtohallan to be unnervingly quiet upon her return. An odd statement to make about a glacier out in the middle of the ocean, perhaps, but a true one, nonetheless. It wasn't until she reached the main hall that she noticed any signs of another presence within the frozen river.

Namely, streamers. Rows and rows of colorful paper streamers hung from the pillars of ice which lined the halls from end to end.

Where did he even get streamers from, all the way out here? Elsa wondered to herself before speaking aloud. "Olaf, what is all of this?" she asked, not knowing if the snowman was nearby, but certain that he was watching.

"It's for your surprise, silly!" Olaf whisper-shouted from behind one of the pillars. "Wait, did I miss a cue? I think that was the cue. Hey guys, that's the cue! Surprise!"

Elsa flinched as Olaf and dozens of his tiny snow brethren jumped out from their hiding places behind the pillars, squealing with glee. The walls of Ahtohallan lit up with its typical, mystifying glow. It highlighted a large banner hanging overhead, which read 'CONGRATULATIONS' in crudely drawn, capital letters.

"Well, it certainly is a surprise," Elsa said as Olaf approached her. "What's the occasion, again?

"This is your retirement party!" Olaf replied, drawing a somewhat perturbed frown from Elsa.

"Olaf, I'm not retiring, yet."

Olaf's carrot nose drooped down as he laughed, sheepishly. "Ooh... I take it your trip didn't go so well, then?"

Elsa sighed. "Even if it had, I was never planning to hand off all of the responsibilities of the Fifth Spirit immediately. There are some things I want to take care of, first, and..."

As Elsa continued to speak, Olaf peered behind her to see Marshmallow, the oldest and largest of Olaf's younger brothers, silently wheeling an ice cart into the hall. The cart held Elsa's other surprise: a massive, multi-tiered snow cake, covered in decorative crystals arranged like candles. Each crystal held a magical flame, powered by the Fire Spirit, Bruni, who served as a live cake-topper. 

Hoping to save that surprise for another day, Olaf covertly waved them off. Bruni huffed and let the flames burn out, while a visibly deflated Marshmallow wheeled the cake back through the entrance. Meanwhile, the snowgies eagerly dispersed to go find the next fun activity to occupy themselves with.

"... furthermore, this is a decision I take very seriously, and I want to make sure that my successor is given adequate preparation — Olaf, are you even listening?"

Olaf looked up at Elsa, who looked between him and the now-vacant entrance with confusion. Olaf gently patted her on the hand before gesturing for her to walk with him.

"Elsa. Honey. Darling. Woman who gave me life but explicitly refuses to be called 'mother'."

"Olaf, where is this going?"

"I'm afraid you might be overthinking it."

Elsa frowned. "Overthinking?"

"Just a tad. I mean, honestly, would your life have gone that much differently had you known about the whole 'Fifth Spirit' thing ahead of time?"

Elsa's frown deepened.

"Oookay," Olaf droned, "bad example. But there must be tons of examples of other chosen ones whose lives were greatly enriched by letting nature take its long and often messy course. One of the best parts of being 'chosen' is that you don't have to participate in the choosing process! You just... are chosen! That's how it works. It's like a 'passive voice versus active voice' sort of thing..."

Elsa and Olaf walked into the central chamber of Ahtohallan — the room where, fittingly enough, she'd experienced her big, official, 'chosen' moment. Of course, moments after that were when she would 'dive too deep' and ultimately meet her mortal fate, but it was better for her to not dwell on that when she was here.

Gazing up into the pitch-black walls of the chamber, Elsa waved a hand, and suddenly the walls were aglow with memories. Some of them belonged to her, some belonged to people she was once close to, others belonged to people she'd never met. Each memory served as a reminder of why she carried on with the work that she did... and why it was so important that she find a suitable replacement. For as much as the role meant to her, Elsa had come to find it difficult to properly represent the spirit of humanity while existing so far removed from it.

After all, no one had any use for a one-sided bridge.

"I know how it works," Elsa said, sighing. "I would just feel remiss to let some preventable tragedy thrust the next chosen into service simply because 'that's how it works'. If I have the opportunity to change 'how it works' for the better, then I will."

"Fair enough," said Olaf. "So, just out of curiosity, what made this trip such a bust?"

Elsa summoned up a chaise longue made of snow and defeatedly slumped down onto it. "I wouldn't call the trip a bust," she said. "I gained valuable information and met some interesting people, so it wasn't for naught. I just don't think Pepa Madrigal is what we're looking for."

Olaf hummed. "Well, that's a bummer. I thought for sure she'd be the one."

Elsa's lips pursed. "Tell me, Olaf, did Ahtohallan show you something about Pepa Madrigal that led you to believe this?"

"Yeah, why?"

"And was it ever apparent that Pepa Madrigal was a middle-aged woman with three kids?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Is there a reason you chose not to share this information with me before recommending that I meet her in person?"

"Yeah, why?"

Elsa stared pointedly.

"Oh, you probably wanna know why. Well, you never asked."

Elsa slowly nodded. "Okay. I suppose I should've, then. But you see, Olaf, fifty-year-olds generally aren't due for any 'coming of age' adventures, so knowing that ahead of time would've been helpful. Now tell me, what exactly did Ahtohallan show you that it didn't show me?"

"Oh!" cried Olaf, bouncing up and down. "They sang the thing!"

Elsa blinked. "The thing?"

"Yeah, the thing!" Olaf said before looking up at the ceiling. "Holly, show her the thing!"

'Holly' lit up again, and the various memories faded as a new one took their place. Elsa recognized the three figures being projected as Pepa, her husband, and the odd man whom Mirabel had referred to as Tío Bruno.

"Pepa, I'm sorry 'bout your wedding, 
didn't mean to be upsetting
That wasn't a prophecy, 
I could just see you were sweating
And I wanted you to know 
that your bro loves you so
Let it in, let it out, let it rain, let it snow, 
LET IT GOOO!"

The memory faded, leaving Elsa to stare blankly before her eye started twitching. "That... that's it? You recommended I go all the way to South America to meet this woman because her brother said the words 'let it go'?"

"He didn't say them, he sang them."

"Pepa wasn't even the one who sang it!"

"Yes, but clearly, she was the one being sung about. It's another 'passive voice' thing."

Elsa groaned before taking a deep, calming breath. "It's okay. This just means I have to do my own research. And this time, I at least know what I'm looking for."

"Oh?" Olaf asked, "What's that?"

"Pepa may not be the best option to replace me, but she's not the only one in that house with magic. Ahtohallan," Elsa called out, and the glacier glowed once more, "show me any available memories you have on the Madrigal family from the Encanto of Colombia — specifically pertaining to their individual gifts."

Ahtohallan obliged, projecting a series of memories along the walls before focusing in on one featuring Mirabel.

"Casita, help me out!" Mirabel said, prompting her seemingly sentient house into rhythmic action. Elsa leaned back on the chaise, propping her feet up as she watched along.

"Ooh!" Olaf began to dance excitedly. "Is this a musical? I love musicals!"

Elsa shushed him but smiled nonetheless.

"Drawers!

Floors!

Doors!

Let's go...!"

Chapter Text

The meeting left an uneasy feeling over the family. For better or worse, everyone had their own ways of coping with the tension, and for Julieta in particular, hers was cooking. While most of the family retreated to their rooms, Julieta worked her magic in the kitchen. Her husband would soon join her, offering to chop up the vegetables she had set out on the cutting board.

"Augustin," Julieta warned, "you know how I feel about you using knives."

"Not to worry, amor, I've got my safety gloves on," Augustin said, showing off a pair of leather gloves as he pulled a knife from the drawer... and then yelped when it slipped from his grasp. 

Casita opened the bottom drawer just in time to catch the knife before it could drop pointed-end down onto Augustin's foot. Julieta breathed a sigh of relief as she retrieved the knife, which was thankfully sticking out of the drawer instead of her husband.

"Augustin, we've been over this," Julieta said. "No handling knives until after I have some food ready. You know how hard it is for me to concentrate on cooking while you're bleeding."

"I know, I know," said Augustin, sporting a sheepish smile as he took off his gloves. "Guess these are more 'cut resistant' than 'slip resistant'..."

"Where did you even get those?" Julieta asked, noting the stiff, rugged exterior of the gloves, which looked better suited for wielding a sword than a knife.

"Señor Vargas loaned them to me the other day. They're great protection against thorns, barbs, the occasional dog attack..." Augustin paused to wave off Julieta's concerned look. "Relax, he only sicced them on me once, and that was because he thought I was an intruder."

Julieta could only shake her head as she turned her attention to cutting vegetables. "I hope things are going well at the farm, at least."

Augustin's eyes lit up. "Oh, things are going great! You should come by to see how big Isabela's crops have gotten. In a few months, she could be feeding the whole town on her own!"

Julieta stopped chopping. "That... sounds wonderful."

Augustin put an arm around his wife's shoulders as he stood next to her. "Um, is it just me, or did it sound like you didn't really mean that?"

Julieta sighed. "I do mean that, but I also have some... concerns."

Augustin tilted his head. "Why? Our daughter can grow food on demand! You can never go wrong with more food, right?" He pulled Julieta closer and caught sight of the frown on her face. "...Right?"

"It's a blessing, I know. But I also know how easily 'She can feed the whole town' could turn into 'She has a responsibility to feed the whole town' if it comes to that."

Such was the burden of the Madrigal family gift. They'd all resigned to it at one point in their lives. Of course, things were different now; the family was more vocal; the town was more understanding. But old habits died hard, and ever since the magic returned, Julieta had concerns. 

Isabela had been willing to commit to a loveless marriage because of what she thought the family wanted. Luisa had worked herself to the bone trying to be everything she thought the town needed. And Mirabel — her baby girl — had nearly thrown her life away to save a damned candle. Why? Because when it came down to it, Julieta's daughters had grown up believing that they existed to protect the miracle, instead of the other way around. And beliefs, much like habits, were often hard to break.

So, yes. She had concerns.

Augustin must've picked up on the tension in Julieta's shoulders, as he rested his head on hers and hugged her close. "Well, I promise you, amor, we won't let it come to that." He lifted his head as a thought occurred to him. "Come to think of it, I doubt Señor Vargas would, either. That old man's too stubborn to hand over that kind of responsibility to anyone."

Julieta laughed. Of course, Señor Vargas would be initially resistant to such a change. He'd overseen the farming in the community for most of its existence, but he wasn't getting any younger. Julieta's gift could cure many ailments, but it could not reverse the effects of time.

"Stubborn or not," Julieta said, "he has to retire at some point. When he does, the town will want someone just as reliable to take his place."

"And when the town finds out Isabela's gift can help grow crops..." Augustin trailed off as he began to see his wife's train of thought.

"I'm afraid she'll be asked to do more than just help."

"Table's ready!" called Luisa as she and her sisters walked in from the dining room, having finished setting the table for dinner. "So, uh, where is everybody?"

"In their rooms, mostly," Julieta replied, "though Abuela left to go meet with the Guzmans."

"The Guzmans?" asked Mirabel. "Doesn't Dolores have a date with Mariano, tonight?"

"I'm not sure," Julieta said, "but I haven't heard a peep from her all afternoon."

"I'll go check on her," Mirabel said on her way to the stairs.

"Dad," Isabela asked, "were you telling Mom about the farm?"

"I was," Augustin replied, "and it seems your mother has some... uh, what was it?"

"Concerns," Julieta said.

"Yes." Augustin put on his serious face. "Concerns."

Isabela held a hand up. "Mom, before you say it, nobody's overdoing it."

Luisa nodded. "Yeah, once they're planted, Isa's crops practically take care of themselves."

"They're right, amor," Augustin agreed. "Most of the work will come at harvest time. Until then, me and the girls have it covered."

"That's good to hear," Julieta said, "but I'd still like for you girls to know what you're getting into before you've committed to anything. Farm work can be very demanding, and I would hope that this is something you can feel passionate about doing — and not just because it's convenient for everyone else."

"But that's the thing," Isabela said, "I won't know if I have a passion for doing it unless I'm doing it."

Luisa could barely conceal the smirk forming on her face. "Oh, I'd say Isa's got a passion for it, already."

Isabela raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

Luisa shrugged, fully grinning. "I dunno, maybe you should ask your friend Maria." Luisa casually strolled out of the kitchen, leaving Isabela standing red-faced in front of their parents.

"Maria?" Julieta asked. "Señor Vargas's granddaughter? I didn't know you two were friends."

"Oh, well, uh—" Isabela stammered, "—we're not, yet. I mean, I'd like to be. Friends. With her." 

Julieta stared blankly at her eldest daughter, unused to seeing her act so flustered. "...Okay."

Isa's eyes darted around the room until they landed on a clock. "Wow, look at the time! I gotta go do some stuff — call me when dinner's ready!"

A vine swung into the kitchen, which Isabela latched onto and used to make her (slightly less graceful than usual) exit. Julieta shared a look with Augustin, who could only shrug in response.

Suddenly, Julieta had additional concerns.

Casa Madrigal was much quieter than normal in the wake of the meeting. Dolores would never complain about the house being quiet, but that didn't mean she could feel good about it. 

Abuela was on her way to the Guzmans' to let Mariano know they'd have to reschedule their date. Pepa was pretty much in denial about the whole thing, telling Félix she was fine and refusing to discuss the matter despite his insistence. She even declined Camilo's offer to bring her tea, which she never did. Antonio went out to tell his jaguar that the water horse was gone. Augustin, Luisa, and Isabela were helping Julieta get dinner ready. And Mirabel was standing outside of Dolores's room, about to knock.

Because of course, she was.

"It's open," Dolores said, sitting up from her bed as she invited Mirabel in.

"Hey, Dolores," Mirabel said as she opened the door and stepped inside the room. "How's my favorite prima feeling?"

"Feeling like you're about to butter up to me for information," Dolores said, matter-of-factually.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Mirabel assured her. "Just wanted to check in with you, since you weren't at the meeting."

"Right. So, what do you want to know?"

Mirabel sighed. "What I 'want to know' is if you're okay. Abuela mentioned she was going out to speak with the Guzmans, and well, you're not, so..."

So, Dolores's date with Mariano wasn't happening tonight. "It's fine," she replied with a shrug. "There'll be other dates. It's not a big deal."

"But you were hoping it would be," Mirabel pointed out. "So, the fact that you canceled—"

"Postponed."

"—postponed," Mirabel corrected, "means you must be pretty upset."

Dolores shook her head. "I'm not upset, Mira, but the family just learned that our home may be in danger and that the protection we used to have is gone. The last thing my mom—" Dolores stopped herself "—the last thing any of us needs to worry about right now is me getting married."

"Dolores..." With her lips pursed, Mirabel looked ready to argue with that line of thinking, but a clap of thunder brought the conversation to an abrupt halt. 

"You're getting WHAT?" cried Pepa, who stepped into view at her daughter's doorway. 

Dolores cringed, both because of the nature of the interruption as well as the volume. 

"Sorry," Pepa said, apologizing for her outburst, "I didn't mean to shout — or to eavesdrop — I was just walking by and couldn't help but overhear your conversation—"

Dolores tried to interject. "Mamá—"

"I wasn't going to say anything, but then you said something about getting married, and that's when I started thundering, so, of course, I had to say something—"

"Mamá, it's okay—" 

"But I don't want you to think I'm upset, because I'm not! Mariano seems like a fine young man — I mean, of course, he is! Your Abuela practically handpicked him for Isabela, so that should tell you everything there is to know—"

"But—"

"It's just that this is the first I'm hearing anything about you getting married, so it caught me by surprise, and you know I thunder when I'm surprised—"

"Tía Pepa!" Mirabel shouted, finally catching Pepa's attention... while also causing her cloud to thunder again. Pepa and Mirabel looked at each other, then at Dolores, who had her ears covered in visible discomfort.

"Sorry," Pepa and Mirabel said in unison.

"I'm fine," Dolores said as she uncovered her ears. "And I'm not getting married."

"Yet," Mirabel added. "Dolores thinks Mariano is going to propose on their next date."

"It wouldn't be the first time he proposed," Dolores argued.

"It'd be the first time you said 'yes'."

Pepa's cloud turned a shade lighter, but not before starting to sprinkle. "You're going to say yes?" she asked as tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, mi hija is getting engaged!"

Dolores cast a quick glare at Mirabel before Pepa pulled her daughter into a slightly damp embrace. 

"I might say yes," Dolores said. "I still haven't decided."

"Oh, of course," Pepa said, releasing Dolores from the hug. "I don't want you to feel pressured—" she paused once she realized her cloud was sprinkling over both of them. "Ay, dios mio! Here I am, getting you all wet before your date—" she paused again, taking notice of the fact that Dolores wasn't dressed to go out anywhere. "Wait, your date is tonight, isn't it? Why aren't you getting ready?"

"She canceled," Mirabel said, drawing another glare from Dolores.

"Postponed," Dolores corrected. "I asked Abuela to talk to the Guzmans about rescheduling. I'm sure Mariano will understand."

"But why?" Pepa asked before frowning. "Does it have something to do with what Abuela said?"

"No — well, not exactly, I just—" As Dolores fumbled over her words, she couldn't help but glance up at the cloud looming over their heads before snapping her eyes back down to her mother. "Now's probably not the best time to talk about it."

Pepa's face fell. "Right. Of course. I completely understand." She backed out of her daughter's room, stormcloud and all. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Dolores nodded. "Okay." She watched her mother leave before turning to Mirabel, annoyed. "What was all of that about?"

Mirabel smirked as she leaned back against the door frame. "You're not the only one who can spill the tea, you know."

Dolores groaned. "You're still upset about me telling the family you were in Bruno's vision?"

Mirabel shook her head. "No, I forgave you. But I didn't forget."

Dolores begrudgingly shrugged. "Fair." The two fell silent for a moment, though Mirabel continued to linger at the door. "Something else on your mind?"

"Actually, yeah," Mirabel said. "The stuff Abuela talked about during the meeting... Did you know?"

Dolores had a feeling this would come up eventually. "I didn't know the details. But I did know that Abuela was afraid..."

Pepa's stormcloud had settled into a low rumble by the time she reached her bedroom door, but she knew it would take some time before it went away completely. Her daughter's words still hung over her head alongside it.

"The last thing my mom — the last thing any of us needs to worry about right now is me getting married."

The worst part of overhearing that was knowing Dolores had a point. If danger was indeed headed for the Encanto, then Dolores having her walking natural disaster of a mother fret over an upcoming wedding wasn't going to be good for anyone — especially given how the last Madrigal wedding had ended. Pepa glanced up, and sure enough, the cloud above her was beginning to swirl as a not-so-subtle reminder. Pepa huffed at the thought. She didn't need to be reminded. Neither did anyone else.

Chapter Text

Dolores Madrigal: Early twenties. Gifted with enhanced hearing. Shown to be highly observant. Limitations: Hearing abilities are likely selective; passive awareness and/or sensitivity to all sound within a mile radius would wreak havoc on the average mortal psyche.

Camilo Madrigal: Mid-teens. Shapeshifter. Shows a curiosity for legends and folklore. Limitations: Can only mimic other humans?

Antonio Madrigal: Approximately five years old. Animal whisperer. Abilities not limited to animals, made evident by interaction with Nokk. Limitations: Perhaps too young, despite exceptional maturity for his age.

Isabela Madrigal: Early twenties. Gifted with chlorokinesis. Shows ability to create plant life at will. Limitations: Unknown.

Luisa Madrigal: Late teens(?) Gifted with superhuman strength. Abilities do not appear bound by natural laws of physics; gravitational manipulation is likely at play. Limitations: Unknown.

Mirabel Madrigal: Mid-teens. Abilities unknown. Limitations: N/A

"Huh," Olaf uttered as he read through Elsa's notes.

"What is it?" Elsa asked. "Did you catch anything I missed?"

Olaf pointed to the last line. "Well, yeah. You listed Mirabel's abilities as 'unknown'."

Elsa nodded. "I did..."

"So, you must've missed the part where she can sing really fast."

Elsa made a face. "I'm not sure that qualifies as a spiritual gift."

"Maybe not, but it makes for a very informative song, right?"

That much was true. From a single memory, Elsa had learned so much about each member of the Madrigal family. Information available to Ahtohallan from the Encanto had remained relatively scarce, (perhaps a residual effect of the magic which kept it hidden for so long), but it made sense for memories of a musical variety to break through first.

Music played a foundational role in the magic of this world. In a way, it was the original bridge between nature and humanity — a harmonizing language known universally across realms and spoken through the soul—

"Sounds like someone's been reading my poetry," Olaf said, jarring Elsa from her thoughts. Or at least, what she thought were her thoughts.

"Was I just thinking out loud?"

Olaf nodded. "Yep."

Elsa groaned. Talking to oneself was one of many troublesome consequences of going years without consistent social interaction, she supposed.

Olaf gave another nod. "Yep."

Elsa groaned again. She took her notes — etched onto thin sheets of ice — and set them down on the desk she'd conjured up. "You still haven't told me what you think."

Olaf brought a twiggy hand up to his chin. "I think you should get out more?"

Elsa frowned. "I meant in regards to our search. The truth is, I can't effectively rule out any of them. I may need more information."

"Or," Olaf suggested, "maybe you should try a different approach. Instead of you going to them, you could have them come to you!"

"What do you mean?"

"Normally, there would be some kind of 'call or adventure', wherein the hero would go on a harrowing journey to discover their destiny. You know, like you did when you came here and died almost immediately after!"

Elsa's face scrunched. "I remember. But I can't send the entire family off on some adventure just to find out which of them can be the new Fifth Spirit."

"While that actually sounds like a fun idea, i think you're right. But hey, you don't have to send them on an adventure, you can just call them on one! Then, all you have to do is see which of them answers it!"

"Call them, how?"

"We can ask Ahtohallan to do it," Olaf said before clearing his throat. "AH AH AH~AHHH!" 

Elsa winced at Olaf's crackly, off-key singing but gave his suggestion some thought, nonetheless. Would it work? Could Ahtohallan's call reach someone from thousands of miles away? Ahtohallan's influence was at its strongest near bodies of water, and the Encanto did have a river...

"Sounds like you're sold on the idea," Olaf said, grinning.

"I think so — wait." Elsa paused, realizing she'd been thinking out loud again. Perhaps Olaf was right about her needing to get out more.

"I'm glad to hear you agree."

Elsa groaned.

The next few days in the Encanto had been mercifully uneventful, setting the stage for Dolores and Mariano's rescheduled date to take place. Mariano arrived promptly at Casa Madrigal to pick up Dolores. He didn't take her into town as she'd expect, instead leading her out to the hillside overlooking the Encanto, where he had a picnic set out for them. Days before, Dolores had overheard him booking a reservation for the town's finest restaurant, so this came as a surprise — a welcome one, to say the least. She didn't need to be treated to fancy food in a crowded place for this night to feel special; a quiet, peaceful dinner between the two of them was more than enough. 

The sun falling over the mountain horizon helped set the mood for the evening. Musicians playing softly in the distance replaced the usual commotion Dolores would hear from the town square — something that Abuela surely had a hand in arranging.

Overall, it was a night of which Dolores had only ever dreamt, and to see — as well as hear — it all coming to fruition was a dream come true. For once, tonight was her night, and there was nothing that could take it away from her.

"Ah ah, ah ah..."

Not even a strange, melodic voice singing in her head.

"A h ah, ah ah..."

The voice was unlike any she'd ever heard. It was distant, and yet it didn't come from any particular direction. She looked at Mariano, but of course, he hadn't seemed to hear it.

"Dolores," Mariano asked, "everything okay?"

"Ah ah, ah ah..."

Dolores nodded. She did her best to carry on with the evening and ignore the voice, even as the poem Mariano recited for her fell on deaf ears. 

"I can hear you...
...but I won't."

A second voice began to sing. Dolores recognized the ethereal tone of the spirit, Elsa. It was only then that she felt drawn in the direction of the river, where the family miracle took place.

"Some look for trouble, while others don't."

"What...?" Dolores muttered to herself.

"Dolores, are you listening?" Mariano asked. "You seem distracted."

"I'm fine. I just... heard something. That's all."

"There's a thousand reasons I should go about my day
And ignore your whispers which I wish would go away, oh..."

The song persisted despite Dolores's efforts to shut it out of her mind, which was especially frustrating because Mariano seemed to be getting to something very important.

"Dolores," he said, "these past few months have opened my eyes to all of the things that have been missing from my life, and it was you who opened them when I saw you for the angel that you truly are."

Dolores smiled as Mariano presented her with a ring. 

"Dolores, will you do me the honor of..."

The song in Dolores's head drowned out Mariano's words as it rose to an irrepressible crescendo.

"I've had my adventure, I don't need something new
I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you..."

"...becoming my wife?"

"No!" Dolores shouted abruptly. "Just leave me alone!"

"No?" Mariano repeated, devastated. "I understand if you think it's still too soon—"

Dolores shook her head. "No, not you!"

"Wait, what?"

"INTO THE UNKNOWN..."

Dolores covered her ears as the voice belted out the words, but the song only grew louder no matter what Dolores did.

Increasingly concerned, Mariano placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If you want, I can take you home—"

"INTO THE UNKNOWN..."

"Shut up!"

Mariano pulled his hand away, blinking. "Uh, okay?"

"Not you! The voices in my head!"

"INTO THE UNKNOOOO~OOOOWN!"

Dolores shouted in frustration. "ARGH!" 

Mariano was very confused. "Yeah, I should probably take you home."

Pepa had mentally prepared herself for the possibility of Dolores staying out late (it was mainly Félix reminding her of all the times he and Pepa would sneak away in the wee hours of the morning back when they were dating), so the fact that Dolores returned early, in clear distress, set off alarm bells in Pepa's head. Or rather, above her head in the form of her cloud.

"Dolores?" Pepa called out to her daughter, who said nothing as she made a beeline from the front door to the stairs. "Is everything okay?"

Without a word, Dolores continued up the stairs to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. In all her years, Pepa had witnessed a wide variety of tantrums, pity parties, mood swings, and other passive-aggressive behaviors in the Madrigal household (she accounted for the majority, to be fair ), but Dolores slamming a door had never been one of them. 

"Dolores? Mi niña?" Pepa called to her again, more urgently than before. Pepa's cloud darkened as a laundry list of possible scenarios played out in her head. Did the date go poorly? Did something bad happen to Dolores? Did something bad happen to Mariano? ...Did something bad happen because of Mariano?

Whatever happened, Pepa would kill him. Maybe she'd let Julieta heal him after, but Pepa would definitely kill him. No, first she would check on her daughter, make sure she was all right, and then she would kill him.

Félix slipped an arm around Pepa's waist to settle her down.  "I'll go check on her," he said, giving his wife a reassuring squeeze before heading up the stairs.

Pepa wanted to stop him, to declare that they would check on their daughter together, but as she looked up, she was reminded of why that wasn't a good idea. 

She was thundering. And thunder would lead to Dolores getting upset, which would lead to Pepa getting more upset, which would lead to more thunder...

And so, her husband would comfort their daughter without her. It was for the best. Of course, if Félix happened to leave Dolores's door open when he entered the room, and if Pepa happened to overhear the conversation as she walked by, then there wasn't any harm in that, was there?

Dolores started at the beginning, explaining that everything was going perfectly until she started hearing the voices. She told her father about the song and how it seemed to call her to the river. She sang a few lines from it before explaining that it was the spirit, Elsa whose voice she recognized. The moment she mentioned the spirit's name, Pepa's thunder roared outside of the door. Dolores winced at the noise but recovered in time to hear her mother storming out of the house... in the direction of the river.

No one was waiting by the river when Elsa and Nokk arrived at the Encanto, contrary to what she'd expected. She grew anxious, wondering if something went wrong. Had Olaf's idea not worked? Did no one hear the call? Was Elsa wrong about one of the Madrigals being her potential successor? A thousand different questions ran through her mind before she noticed the clouds rolling in from the rift between the mountains. Beneath them was none other than Pepa Madrigal, making her way down to the riverbank.

"Pepa?" Elsa called out, surprised. She climbed off of Nokk and waved over to Pepa. "You heard the voice?"

Pepa scowled, fists clenched in anger as she approached. "No," she replied, "but my daughter did."

"Oh," Elsa said, looking around. "Dolores? Is she here?"

Pepa shook her head. "She's at home, upset, because you ruined her date!"

"What?"

Thunder roared in the background as Pepa mumbled to herself, "I should've listened to Camilo from the start."

"I-I don't understand..."

"Oh, but I'm sure you do, Madre Agua. Or have I not caught you trying to lure my daughter to the river with your 'siren song'?"

Elsa's eyes widened. "Siren song?"

"'I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you'?" Pepa recited. "Does that sound familiar?"

It did. Into the unkno—oh no... If that was what Dolores heard, then something had certainly gone wrong. "Please forgive me, but I believe there's been a mistake."

"We can agree on that," Pepa said, stepping into the shallow waters to confront Elsa. "My mother always told me to be respectful of the spirits, and that is why I am asking you — instead of ordering you — to stay away from my kids."

That sounded a lot more like an order than a request, but it seemed like a bad time to point that out. 

"Of course," Elsa said, "I will respect your wishes. Also, if I may apol—"

"Good," Pepa said, disregarding Elsa's attempt to apologize. "Because if you don't..." Clouds darkened the sky as Pepa leaned down until she and Elsa were nose to nose. "We will see just how 'comparable' our gifts truly are."

Elsa nearly jumped out of the water when a thunderous boom rang out on the riverbank. She glanced past Pepa to see the smoldering husk of a tree — or at least, what was left of it. Lightning had scorched through the tree so thoroughly that it was as if the bolt came straight from the hand of Zeus himself.

Without another word, Pepa turned and walked away, back through the valley through which she came. Beside Elsa, the stoic water spirit Nokk looked at his guardian and tilted his head, perhaps drawing the same conclusion that she had:

It appeared that Elsa had grossly underestimated this Pepa Madrigal — and may have just made an enemy of her as well.

Elsa's return to Ahtohallan came with frigid winds, which blew at temperatures that would freeze the average human solid.

"Ooh, that tickles!"

For a snowman, such as Olaf, it simply meant that Elsa was in a mood.

"Hey Elsa, you're back!" Olaf said, greeting Elsa as she entered the central chamber. "How'd it go?"

Elsa drew a deep breath. "Olaf..."

"Elsa..." Olaf innocently mimicked her tone. "Is there a reason we're talking like 'this...'?"

"Tell me," Elsa said, "when you instructed Ahtohallan to send the call out to the Encanto, what exactly did you have it send?"

Olaf thought for a moment. "That is an excellent question."

"Olaf..."

"Elsa..." Olaf mimicked her again before perking up. "Ooh, I remember! I asked Holly to sing the thing!"

"...The thing."

"Yeah! The thing that called you to Ahtohallan and awakened the spirits!"

"That's not the same thing."

"Wait, it's not?"

"No. Ahtohallan used my mother's song to summon me. It was my song that awoke the spirits."

"Ohhh, you're right. I remember now. Why'd you ask?"

Elsa sighed. "It's not important."

Well, not anymore, at least. Dolores Madrigal may have heard the call, but she technically never answered it, and now that Elsa had given her word to respect Pepa's wishes, it was something of a moot point. On the bright side, she'd effectively reduced her pool of candidates by half, so the trip hadn't been a total loss. 

But while Pepa's children were fairly straightforward in their interests and abilities, Mirabel and her sisters left many questions to be answered. That meant more research was required.

Elsa waved a hand to set the chamber's memory magic into motion, prompting it to display a greater array of Madrigal memories than what had been available to her before. Perhaps her trips to the Encanto had improved the inflow of memories to the Mother River. Whatever the case, the additional information could only serve to further aid in her search.

"Ahtohallan, show me memories pertaining to the interests and abilities of Isabela Madrigal."

Ahtohallan responded with a memory of the Madrigals' 'golden child', along with her sister Mirabel, surrounded by pink flowers and holding a... cactus?

"It's not symmetrical or perfect, but it's beautiful
And it's mine!
What else can I do...?"

Chapter Text

Elsa returned to the Encanto with a renewed focus; more importantly, she returned prepared. That meant no more guesswork, no more miscommunications, and no more surprises. 

Based on what Elsa had seen, it had become clear to her that Isabela Madrigal was best suited to take on the role of Fifth Spirit. Having demonstrated an ideal mixture of passion and poise, the eldest grandchild of the Madrigal family was a (for lack of a better word) perfect fit. Not only did she possess a gift which gave her an intrinsic spiritual connection to nature, she had also shown an interest in exploring her abilities to the fullest. 

Isabela wanted to do more — to be more than what others once expected of her. For years, she'd felt stuck, living a life she didn't want, pretending to be something she wasn't, only scratching the surface of what she was capable of. Elsa understood that feeling because she had lived it. Now that she had the opportunity to use that experience and make a positive difference in the life of another, Elsa wasn't going to let it go.

Of course, in order for her to make the most of this opportunity, Elsa would need to leave a better first impression on Julieta's side of the family than she had with Pepa's. Speaking of Julieta, it was she who answered the door when Elsa arrived at Casa Madrigal. The matronly woman's protective instincts seemed to override her surprise as she recognized who Elsa was and offered a rather short greeting.

"Buenas," Julieta said, keeping her expression neutral. "¿Qué más?"

Good... What... more? Unfamiliar with the vernacular, Elsa was slow to process that no further words were forthcoming and paused a moment before answering. "Um, hola Señora, my name is Elsa, and—"

"Ay," Julieta interrupted, "I know who you are. Pepa has spoken of you quite candidly ever since you ruined my niece's date the other night."

Elsa's face fell. So much for having a second chance at a first impression. "Yes... That was an unfortunate error on my part — one that I feel quite terrible for. While I am hopeful for an opportunity to make amends, I also want to respect Pepa's wishes and not bother her daughter any further. If it's not too much trouble, though, could you please let your niece know that I'm sorry?"

Julieta's expression softened somewhat as she nodded. "I'm sure that won't be any trouble at all." 

By the nature of Dolores's gift, it was likely that she had heard the apology herself, but Elsa was grateful that Julieta agreed to relay the message nonetheless. "Gracias, Señora," Elsa said. It was nice to get that out of the way and be able to focus on her plans for Isabela.

"I'm sorry, what was that you said about Isabela?" Julieta asked, eyebrow raised. "I don't recognize the language."

Elsa froze, realizing that she'd spoken the previous thought out loud. Luckily enough, those thoughts were in her native Norwegian tongue.

"Ah, well, what I mean to say is that I'm here to speak with Isabela," Elsa quickly clarified. "If that's all right with you, of course."

The confusion on Julieta's face only grew. "You want to speak to my daughter? Why?"

Feeling more composed, Elsa explained: "When I came to the Encanto in search of the next Fifth Spirit, I initially believed it was Pepa who led me here. I assume Pepa has mentioned this to you?"

Julieta nodded. "Among other things she's said about you, yes."

"Well, since then, I've found that this may not be the case. It is possible there is another member of your family better suited for the role."

Julieta's eyes widened as the implication dawned on her. "You think Isabela is the one you're looking for?"

"Potentially," Elsa replied. "That's why I'd like the opportunity to speak with her. Is she available?"

Julieta gave a long, thoughtful look before answering, "She's not home at the moment, but wait here." Julieta stepped away from the door, leaving Elsa to wait patiently until she returned with baskets of food in hand. "Come with me, and I can take you to her."

It was hard for Julieta not to second guess herself as she led Elsa through town on their way to the farmlands. Every eye was fixed on the mysterious blonde stranger, the likes of whom they'd never seen before. For the vast majority of the townspeople, this would be their first encounter with an outsider, and with her striking features and billowing white dress, Elsa certainly stood out like one. The spirit seemed to take it in stride, however, walking with a regal posture and measured grace that reminded Julieta of Isabela. Or at least, the old Isabela — the one who had spent years perfecting a lie.

Much like Isabela, Elsa concealed her discomfort well, but the occasional wringing of her hands was a dead giveaway in that regard. She stayed mostly quiet while Julieta dropped off the baskets of food at her healing stand. The regulars knew how everything worked and could manage the stand in her absence. For those who inquired about Elsa, Julieta said she was a visitor from out of town and left it at that. 

They exited the square and headed down the beaten path to the farmlands. The trail led through a stretch of forest, where Elsa's otherwise reserved demeanor shifted. Her eyes lit up with delight as wildlife flocked to her from the treetops and the underbrush. Julieta recognized a few of them as frequent visitors of Antonio's treehouse, but they all took to Elsa just as well. Elsa, likewise, welcomed them as if she were greeting old friends. If Julieta had any doubts of Elsa's authenticity as a nature spirit, they were summarily dismissed here.

They came across a brook as they exited the forest, where the water spirit emerged to meet them. The wildlife dispersed, but Elsa happily reached out to the watery figure, using her magic to envelope it in frost before it stepped out of the brook and onto dry land. She introduced Julieta to the Nokk, and together they continued down the path.

"So, Espíritu Elsa," Julieta said, deciding to make conversation, "you seem to know much more about my family than my family knows about you. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

Elsa paused before letting out a small giggle. "Well, for starters, Señora Madrigal, you may simply call me Elsa."

"Only if you'll call me Julieta. 'Señora Madrigal' is how you would refer to my mother... or to my sister, if you're ever looking for a way to annoy her."

Elsa's giggle turned into a full-fledged laugh. "Understood, though I think I've annoyed Pepa enough already."

Julieta waved a hand. "She'll come around. I admit that I had my reservations, but you don't seem nearly as bad as she led me to believe."

"I appreciate that," Elsa said before addressing Julieta's initial request. "What would you like to know about me?"

"How did you become this 'Fifth Spirit'?" Julieta asked. "Is it something you've always been?"

"Yes and no," Elsa replied. "I wasn't born as the Fifth Spirit, but from birth, I was destined to become it."

"Destined? How so?"

Elsa took a deep, steadying breath before she answered. "Long ago, in my parents' youth, a brutal and deadly battle broke out between their peoples. It took place in an enchanted forest where the elemental spirits had previously lived in harmony with humans. The conflict enraged the spirits, causing them to seal off the forest — along with whoever remained inside — from the rest of the world. Despite being on opposing sides of the conflict, my mother came to my father's aid when he fell injured and helped him to escape. Years later, the spirits saw fit to reward her act of compassion with a gift..."

"Was the gift a miracle candle, by any chance?" Julieta asked, keeping her tone light but with a hint of curiosity beneath it. 

Elsa shook her head. "The gift was me. It was my destiny to reawaken the spirits, free the forest, and restore the balance that had been lost on that day. With the help of my sister, I fulfilled that destiny, and since then, I have worked to ensure that the bonds between man and nature would never be broken in such ways again."

"I see," Julieta said, quietly contemplating what this could potentially mean for Isabela. "So, what you are looking for is someone to continue this work?"

Elsa nodded. "It has been my honor to serve as guardian of the spirits and as an ambassador to nature, but truthfully..."

Elsa trailed off, gazing out over the vast green pastures where the old horses and donkeys roamed freely after years of fruitful labor. Julieta studied the girl's profile — no, not the girl, the woman — reminded that, although her pretty face was full of youth and carried not a wrinkle nor a blemish, her eyes told a much deeper story.

"I am ready to move on," Elsa finally said, turning to Julieta, "and the work I do is too important to leave undone."

Julieta smiled and nodded. "I understand. Now, let's go find my daughter."

Watering crops was not among Pepa's favorite activities. It was better that way, of course; the less enjoyment she got from the process, the more effective her rainclouds would be, and the less time she had to spend doing it. Still, it was nice to have a chance to let off some steam every once in a while without someone going, 'Pepa, you have a cloud', as if Pepa couldn't tell from standing directly under it.

Pepa's muscles tensed as a sudden chill ran down her spine. Change was in the air. She could feel it in her bones.

Some might call it superstition; her mother would call it something that came with old age. Whatever it was set Pepa on edge. Gazing across the fields, back toward town, she spotted what must've been the source of the disturbance: it was the spirit, Elsa. Somehow, Pepa wasn't surprised to see her snooping around the Encanto again, but what did surprise Pepa was seeing her sister Julieta accompanying her.

The skies above the fields darkened as the overcast from Pepa's rainclouds grew heavier, as did the rain pouring from it. If there was a silver lining to be found, it was that watering crops wouldn't take very long today.

While a storm was brewing elsewhere on the farmlands, Isabela was busy tending to her gardens, gathering up fruits that had ripened and fallen from the trees she'd grown and placing them in baskets. Before Isabela broadened her gift into farming, the town only had access to foods that could be found naturally in and around the valley (it wasn't as if they could import anything, after all), but ever since she started truly putting her powers to the test, the possibilities felt endless. When she thought about all of the new recipes her mother would get to try out, or how happy Antonio and his animal friends would be if the town could produce enough high-protein vegetables to no longer need meat, Isabela's heart swelled with joy.

She was reaching down to scoop up a pair of round, brown-colored fruits when a voice called out to her.

"¡Oye! Nice melons!"

Isabela sprang upright, looking around until she set her sights on the tall, tan-skinned brunette approaching her. 

"Maria, hi!" Isabela said, folding her arms across her chest and glancing downward to give herself a brief once-over. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that. What were you saying?"

"The melons you grew," Maria elaborated, "they're nice."

Isabela unfolded her arms and stared at the fruits in her hands, her face heated from embarrassment. "Oh, right. Those." 

It was maddening, how flustered she got whenever she ran into Maria on the farm (which was often, given the girl lived there) and that, despite how frequent their encounters had become, Maria would always manage to catch Isabela off guard. Perhaps more glaringly, Maria would manage to catch Isabela's eye, as well. Didn't matter whether the farm girl showed up in a dusty shirt and pants as she wore now, with her hair pulled back into a bun after a long day of wrangling cattle, or on occasion when she wore that white and gold sundress — the one that looked a size too large for her petite frame and would slip just slightly off one shoulder...

...But anyway. What were they talking about, again? Melons, right? Well, sort of.

"These aren't melons, actually," Isabela said of the fruits, offering one to Maria. "They're borojó." 

"Eh," Maria uttered as she took the fruit and inspected it. "You know, I've heard of these, but I don't think I've ever seen one before."

"Me neither," Isabela said. "They're native to Colombia, but the female trees are pretty scarce here in the Encanto. Those are the ones that bear fruit."

"So, you're saying we got stuck with the useless male ones," Maria said, chuckling as she casually tossed the fruit up and down like a ball.

"I... probably wouldn't have thought of it that way, but I guess—"

Isabela lost track of whatever she was saying after Maria tossed the fruit up high and reached for a machete that was sheathed at her hip. In one fluid motion, Maria pulled out the machete and expertly sliced the fruit in half as it fell out of the air. Isabela stared, wide-eyed, while Maria calmly wiped the sides of the blade off on her maroon-colored trousers (the cut was so clean, there was hardly any residue) and sheathed it before retrieving the two halves of fruit from the ground.

"You know what they say these are good for?" she asked a stunned Isabela, to whom she handed one of the halves.

"Eh, well," Isabela said, stammering as collected herself, "my mom's recipe books say they're an excellent source of antioxidants and fiber—"

Isabela was once again halted when Maria dug a finger into the fruit, scooped out some of the pulp, and sucked it off of her finger with a soft moan.

"Puta madre, that's good," Maria said, making eye contact with Isabela as she licked her finger clean. "They're said to be an aphrodisiac."

"Oh..." Isabela replied, suddenly having to catch her breath despite not moving a muscle. "That's... nice."

"Very nice," Maria said before using her lips to gesture to Isabela's half. "You gonna try yours?"

"I-I think I'll save it for later." Isabela was certain she wouldn't be needing any aphrodisiacs anytime soon.

Maria shrugged and turned to leave, pausing briefly to look over her shoulder at Isabela. "Almost forgot — I came by to tell you your mom is here. She brought some gringa with a magic horse to see you."

Isabela blinked, needing a moment to process that statement. "...What?" 

Okay, maybe a couple of moments.

Julieta was waiting with Elsa and Nokk near the farmhouse when Isabela and Maria arrived.

"Mamá?" Isabela called out as she approached. "What's going on? And who is — puta madre!" Isabela stopped in her tracks the moment she got a good look at Elsa, then covered her mouth in surprise of what she had let come out of it in her mother's presence.

"Isabela!" Julieta yelped, as she, too, was shocked by her daughter's uncharacteristic use of such vulgar language. "Where did you learn to speak like that?"

Isabela cringed but said nothing.

Beside Julieta, a curious Elsa leaned closer to ask, "Who is Puta Madre? Is that another Colombian legend?"

Julieta paled, quickly shaking her head. Of the present parties, Maria was the only one with no reaction at all — a detail that did not go unnoticed by Julieta.

Confused but not deterred, Elsa approached Isabela and extended a hand to greet her. "Hello, Isabela. My name is Elsa. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Isabela uncovered her mouth, stammering, "Holy s— I mean, hola! Hola is what I mean. To say." 

Evidently awestruck, Isabela extended a hand to Elsa but grew confused when the spirit woman leaned down toward her hand instead of shaking it. It was only when Isabela looked at her hand that she noticed the arrangement of vibrant yellow and orange flowers she had spontaneously produced from it.

"Oh my," Elsa said, "these are for me?" 

"Ehhh... yes!" Isabela cleared her throat before extending the flowers further. "Yes, of course." 

Julieta stood by and watched the perplexing scene unfold before her, unsure of what to make of it. The daughter she once knew to be the picture of grace and etiquette was suddenly fumbling over her words, a few of which were most certainly not words she learned in her casa. Strange behavior didn't stop at her daughter, however, as Julieta observed Isabela's 'not yet friend' Maria standing off to the side, looking oddly put off by the whole display. With her crossed arms, pouted lips, and subtle side-glare, Julieta couldn't help but note how much the girl took after her father, Ramiro — namely by the look of jealousy the man wore far too often from Julieta's memory.

But what would Maria be jealous of...?

"They're gorgeous," Elsa said of the flowers, taking a long whiff of them, "graci-ah... Ah..."

The other three women stared, confused, as Elsa reared back from the flowers and covered her nose.

"Oh, dear spirits..." Elsa deadpanned, "these are sunflowers, aren't they?" 

"They are," Isabela replied. "Is that bad?"

Elsa sneezed, and all of a sudden, tiny, bulbous snow creatures began appearing out of thin air. "I'm allergic," she said, "so yes."

Isabela snatched the offending flowers away from Elsa's face, scanning their surroundings for a way to quickly dispose of them. Her eyes settled on Maria with a pleading gaze as she handed the flowers off to her. Maria made a showy gesture of rolling her eyes before receiving the flowers and walking off.

As Maria left, she took a quick sniff of the flowers and sighed before looking around to see if anyone had noticed.

Julieta noticed.

Turning her attention back to Elsa, Julieta asked, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes, yes," Elsa said, "you need not be concerned. As long as there's no lingering pollen—"

Pollen.

Julieta and Isabela exchanged looks before glancing down at Isabela's dress, which was literally dyed in pollen.

Elsa sneezed again. More tiny snow creatures popped up. 

"—Okay," Elsa said, still covering her nose, "this may become an issue."

"Why don't we go find my husband," Julieta suggested as she led Elsa away from Isabela and toward the farmhouse. "Augustin deals with all sorts of allergies. I'm sure he has a few of my arepas he can spare..."