Chapter Text
The day of Mirabel’s ceremony was full of excitement, and Bruno found himself bouncing throughout Casita, helping whoever he could.
It was an interesting balance. Casita was full of guests and visitors dropping things off, helping set decorations, etc etc. Bruno did his best to move around them, help his family prepare for his sobrina’s gift ceremony while pointedly not letting the common glares and whispers ruin his mood.
It was difficult, the whispers making him feel uptight. He’d shut his eyes tight and press himself into corners and twist his hands into his ruana, this only encouraged the whispers, but calmed his racing mind nonetheless.
Bruno never reacted the way people wanted, but that was one of the many, many things he couldn’t help. And as per usual, he’d have to get over that too.
He was forced out of his reverie when his sister Pepa grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room, glaring both at him and all those who were talking about him.
Taking the earful she dished about how this was a special day and how they can’t afford to help him like usual, ouch, Bruno balanced the options of either running off, back to his tower and hiding away until the party begins, or “getting over himself” and helping prepare.
Bruno dejectedly shuffled his feet to the kitchen, going to see his hermana Julieta and hopefully the girl of the hour; his hood pulled up for an ounce of courage as he ghosted through the hallways.
—
The party itself was loud, Bruno lamented. It was great! Beautiful! Everyone appeared to be having fun, kids running here and there, ‘Milo being the supposed ringleader of their riot. The festivities were amazing and Isabela especially did amazing with the decorations.
But it was loud, and Bruno found himself beyond overwhelmed. Thoughts knocked at his head, making him toss salt and sugar over his shoulder’s far more than he usually would, telling him if he doesn’t do this then all the fun will come crashing down around him. He was full of knocking and twitches and murmurs of left-foot-first whenever he entered a room. Anything to ensure his presence didn’t hurt this.
Despite the usual reactions all his quirks garnered, the animosity was relaxed with the music surrounding them. Rather than annoyed looked and sighs of disappointment from his hermanas, he found Félix laughing at his oddness and taking his hands, dragging him onto the dance floor.
Bruno felt his hand twitch to knock on his head as he felt people surround him, but his dear cuñado kept their hands laced together as they danced, Félix’s eyes alight in happiness. Suddenly, Pepa was behind him, pulling him away from her husband with a kiss on his cheek, and redirecting his dance. Her sunshine was hot on his face, and he could’ve sworn it went straight through his skin to warm his heart as well.
It was moments like this that drowned out the suffocating atmosphere of the town in his Casita. Drowned out the fear of another gift given to a child far too young for that kind of pressure. Bruno knew it was going to be short lived, and he would be rocking and pulling at his hair the second it was time for Mirabel to appear and walk down that aisle. But that could wait, he supposed.
He usually wasn’t this present, you know. In every other ceremony he had stuck to the walls, his hand on the rat he snuck into his ruana for comfort and a reassuring smile on his lips for his familia. The kids would try to include him, the blessings, not wanting him to feel left out. They would leave him alone with enough reassurances, but even he could feel his mama’s patience running thin with the antics.
That led him to now, where he was strictly forbidden from hiding away. This was a celebration god damn it, and it was his job as a Madrigal to participate. It wasn’t a tall order, being told to have fun. It sure felt like it though.
The people were clearly surprised he was putting in such an effort, especially when he was intentionally appearing less and less in the town itself. He was making a point to avoid them, and clearly they had expected the same treatment here. A let down he wasn’t, they thought, but Bruno only let that bother him a little bit (a lot).
Then came time for Mirabel’s gift, and Bruno felt his stomach swirl uncomfortably, and against his better judgement he threw a small handful of salt over his shoulder, and felt his heart swell when Dolores held up a hand to stop it from hitting some poor random townswoman in the face.
Mirabel looked gorgeous, and while she looked a little shy with so many eyes on her, there was a bounce in her step.
She looked to her family for support, and Bruno gave the most reassuring smile he could, waving to her a little.
Alma gave her speech, and it was over so much quicker than Bruno wished. His heart pounded, and he held his breath and crossed his fingers for little Mira, putting his all into wishing luck.
The world was in slow motion as she stepped forward, holding the candle before wiping her hands off. Julieta and Agustín stood up there with her, smiles on their faces.
Then, she reached for the handle, and hell itself took hold in his home.
—
Mirabel was tucked away in the nursery, in the arms of Julieta and Agustín as they desperately tried to calm the sobbing girl down.
They had cleared everyone out of the Casita as quickly as possible, a stampede of voices assaulting Bruno’s ears. He held Dolores in his arms, his larger hands held over her ears as he sat against the wall with her. He kept his hands tight over her ears, trying to help her focus away from the chaos of the crowd onto his own voice, knowing that no amount of covering could really stunt her hearing. He rocked and muttered, words flowing from his mouth as he kept her in his lap swaying forwards and back. She leaned into it, her brows furrowed as she tried to use him as a means to drown everything else out.
Pepa was storming, the winds whipping across his face and scattering his hair. Isabela and Camilo helped Alma force everyone out to regain half a sense of calm.
Pepa suddenly approached them, trying to speak loud and project her voice over the uncontrollable storm. Dolores whimpered, and Bruno pressed his hands a little tighter, as much as he could without hurting the poor girl, and in the absence of his hands threw his head sideways against a wooden table leg as a makeshift knock. It hurt, but it helped.
Félix gently took Dolores from him, holding her in his arms and rushing her to her soundproof room alongside Pepa, who most likely needed a distraction to try and stop her storm. Alone, Bruno shuddered and let his eyes dart around, rapping gentle knock, knock, knock’s against the wood.
It was too late, there was nothing he could do now. But he could still try, his head encouraged.
“Bruno!” The sharp voice of Alma Madrigal commanded. He winced.
He scrambled up from his spot on the floor, shaking.
“Sí? W-what- what do you need?” He cursed his brittle voice, his nervousness at it’s peak.
“Come with me.” It was a demand. She was in a demanding mood, making Bruno’s stomach twist uncomfortably. He followed.
—
She was asking for a vision.
She was asking for a vision, apparently thinking that the fear raised from Mirabel’s failed ceremony wasn’t enough.
Bruno told her as much, told her that anything he saw would be of no help. All he would do is make a bad situation worse.
“It’s to protect the magic! For the familía!” She shouted at him, her anger jumping at the chance to break free. She had to put on a face for the town, try to calm them in the face of disaster. She didn’t need a mask in front of Bruno, no, Bruno was an outlet. He was always an outlet for anger.
“Please, mamá, please listen to me!” Bruno begged. “My vision will only scare the town more! Whatever is happening to the magic will still happen even if I see,” his voice sounded whiny, and he winced.
She pursed her lips. “I would rather know what is going on than not, I want you to look for me. Please, Brunito. You’re the only one who can.”
He stood his ground. He shook his head. “It will only make the situation worse. At the very least, I shouldn’t look tonight. Things are already bad enough in this house.”
She paused. That was very good.
“Get out Bruno,” despite the harsh words, her voice was soft. “I need to think.”
As soon as he was out of her room, he ran to his tower. His brief victory took off a weight he didn’t even realize was on his shoulders.
—
The town was up in arms. There were too many uncertainties, too much at stake. Was the magic dying? Were the Madrigals weakening? Was the Encanto in danger?
So, they leaned back onto what they did know. The magic of the Madrigals was the first constant, and with that at risk they turned to the second.
They looked for someone to blame, and oh how obvious the answer was. There was only ever one constant evil roaming the streets of paradise.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Hidden among the greats, taking refuge in the same space as the ones who protect them. Breathing the Madrigal’s air.
Perhaps the aroma of their miracle drew the attention of the Devil, all good things come with a price. Their price to pay was the curse of Bruno Madrigal.
His presence at the party wasn’t unnoticed. He never spends that much time around the town, nevermind a party as large as that.
He must have been biding his time. Bad Luck Bruno made his appearance at the party, letting his curse manifest and take hold. And now the magic is damaged, withheld from the youngest Madrigal. One less gift for their Encanto.
It would be foolish to say a mistake has been made, magic doesn’t make mistakes. There had to be a reason, and with how big of an appearance the devil has made tonight, it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to see the correlation.
It sparked an outrage in many, their very human nature calling for justice. How dare he? How dare this man threaten to take their paradise from them? Welcomed as one of their saviors, he still betrayed them nonetheless. People have died because of him. People have suffered. His curses dripped off his tongue and leaked into every home, spelling misfortune and disaster.
Now this was a curse that hinted at something greater. Disturbing the magic of the miracle could mean the downfall of everything. They can’t risk that.
And so, that night a particularly outspoken group of young idealists came together to discuss a solution, blinded by their fear and stirred into action.
They had to stop this.