Chapter Text
Seven-year-old Mirabel Madrigal shivered in the cold. It had seemed like a good idea at the time; run away from her abusive/neglectful family in Columbia, cross the mountains and rainforest til she reached the nearest port town, sneak onto a boat headed toward a place called London, and make a new life for herself. She hadn't counted on London being so cold. The little girl kept asking people on the street if she could work for them in exchange for food and shelter, but everyone just kept ignoring her. Poor Mirabel curled up into a snowbank, fighting back tears. Looks like she ran away only to freeze to death. "I say, what do you think you're doing?!" Mirabel looked up to see a man standing over her. He looked to be the same age as her papa, but had grey hair and side burns, grey-blue eyes, wore a suit, coat and top hat and held a cane in one hand. Standing beside him was a large, golden-furred dog. The man repeated his question. "I said 'what do you think you're doing?!' It's freezing out! Where are your parents? Do they know you're out here on your own?" Mirable shakingly stood up, shivering so hard her bones were starting to hurt.
"I-I-I'm l-looking for work, Senor. My p-p-parents are back home in C-Columbia, and n-n-no, they d-don't know I'm h-h-here." The man (commonly known as Ebenezer Scrooge) scowled.
"Are you telling me you ran away from home?! And where is Columbia?"
"It's in a p-place called S-S-South America." Scrooge nearly dropped his cane.
"South America!? How did you get from South America to London?!"
"I s-snuck onto a b-b-boat." Scrooge rolled his eyes and pulled off his coat, wrapping it around the girl.
"Why would you run away? Your parents must be worried sick!" Mirabel snuggled into the coat, grateful for the warmth.
"I doubt my family has even noticed I'm gone. They're always telling me how useless I am and to stay out of the way. Well, I decided to get out of the way permanently." Scrooge's face softened.
"What's you name?" Mirabel beamed.
"Mirabel Madrigal. What's yours?"
"Ebenezer Scrooge."
"It's nice to meet you, Senor Scrooge."
"It's Mr. Scrooge." The dog, Prudence, stepped forward, curiously sniffing the child. Mirabel nervously stepped back. There weren't many dogs in the Encanto, especially not big dogs like this one.
"Who's this?"
"Prudence."
"I-is she going to eat me?" Scrooge smirked.
"Not unless I tell her to." But Mirabel's nervousness soon left when Prudence gave her a friendly lick to the face, causing the girl to giggle. "How old are you?"
"Seven." Scrooge frowned. The girl was far to small to be seven. Didn't her parents feed her properly? The old man weighed his options. He was well-known throughout London for being grouchy, greedy and cruel, but he certainly wasn't heartless enough to leave a little girl to freeze to death in the cold. Besides, there was something about the girl that reminded him of his late little sister, Jen. Hoping he wouldn't regret this later, Scrooge scooped Mirabel up in his arms.
"C'mon, we better get going before we both catch our death out here. You can stay with me tonight until I figure out what to do with you." Mirabel happily snuggled into Scrooge's chest, much to the old mans discomfort.
"Maybe I could stay and work for you. I'm really good at cooking and cleaning, plus, I can sew and embroider if you have clothes that need fixing." But Scrooge only scoffed.
"I don't make it a habit of enforcing child labor."
"What's child labor?"
"It's when you force a young child to work." Mirabel didn't see what the problem was.
"But my Hermanas' and Primos work all the time."
"...Your what?"
"Hermana's-my sisters. And primo means cousin." The old man shook his head in annoyance.
"If you plan on staying here, you're going to have to learn proper English."
"Si, Senor." Scrooge rolled his eyes, but didn't correct her.
"Anyway, why would your sisters and cousins work? Wouldn't they rather be...playing, or whatever it is children do?"
"Abuela (our grandma) says it's our duty to use our gifts to help the Encanto; that's the name of our village."
" Gifts? What gifts?"
"When someone in our family turns five, they get a special power." Scrooge laughed, not believing a word of it. What an imagination this girl had! Still, he decided to play along.
"Alright, I'll bite; what 'gifts' does your family have?"
"My mama can heal any injury or illness with her cooking. My Tia (aunt) Pepa can control the weather with her emotions. My Tio (uncle) Bruno could see the future. My eldest sister, Isabella, can make flowers grow, and my other sister, Luisa, is super strong. My cousin, Dolores, can hear the smallest sound from far away, and my other cousin, Camillo, can shapeshift into anyone."
"I see. And what might your gift be?" Mirabel sadly looked down.
"I...I didn't get a gift. That's why everyone in my family thinks I'm useless." Scrooge didn't say anything, but subconsciously pulled the girl closer. They soon arrived at Scrooge's house. Once they got inside, Scrooge led Mirabel to the bathroom and drew a warm bath for he. While Mirabel got undressed and into the tub, Scrooge took off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a sponge and some soap.
"Alright, Mirabel, turn around so I can scrub your back." But once the girl turned around, Scrooge dropped the soap sponge, horrified by what he saw. Across the girls back were various scars. Scrooge knew they came from a whip; he remembered when he worked at the bottle factory as a boy, and his employer would beat the boys if they weren't doing their job properly. "Mirabel? W-where did you get these?" Mirabel said nothing at first.
"Abuela. Whenever I got in the way, she would take me to her room and...teach me a lesson. She said she was helping me learn my place." Scrooge felt his blood boil. While he may not care for children, he would never lay a hand on one! He was starting to understand why Mirabel had run away from home. Scrooge continued to bathe Mirabel, and once the girl was clean and dried off, Scrooge gave her one of his night shirts to sleep in and tucked her into the bed of one of his guestrooms that he never used.
"First thing tomorrow, we're getting you a coat and new clothes."
"What's wrong with the clothes I have?"
"First off, they're not warm enough. Secondly, if you're going to be staying with me, you are to dress like a proper lady, and not a little ragamuffin." Scrooge turned to leave, but Mirabel beckoned him to come close. The old man sighed in annoyance, but obeyed. "What?" Before he could do anything, Mirabel wrapped her arms around Scrooge's neck and planted a kiss on his cheek, causing the old man's face to turn red.
"Mucho Gracias, Mr. Scrooge! I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't helped me!" Mirabel lied back in bed, and Scrooge went to his own room, trying to ignore the warm feeling in his chest. Once he was in his pajamas and in his bed, Scrooge turned to Prudence hopelessly.
"Prudence, what have I gotten myself into?"
The next morning, Scrooge awoke to the smell of something cooking. He and Prudence raced down the stairs to find Mirabel standing on a chair in front of the stove, hard at work. The little girl turned to the old man with a smile. "Buenos Dias, Mr. Scrooge! Did you sleep well?" The old miser didn't know what to say.
"I...uh...what is all this?"
"I thought I'd make you breakfast to thank you for letting me stay the night. You didn't have anything to make arepa's, so I made porridge and eggs. I hope you like it!" She placed the plate in front of Scrooge. He took a cautionary bite and was surprised by how delicious it was.
"Where did you learn to cook?",
"My mama taught me." Mirabel sat down and started eating her own breakfast, scarfing it down like she hadn't eaten in days, which, Scrooge realized, she probably hadn't. When Mirabel was done eating, she handed Scrooge his coat. "I also noticed that there were a few tears in you coat, so I fixed it for you!" Scrooge had been meaning to get his coat fixed, but he was impressed with Mirabel's handiwork. The two cleaned the dishes, got dressed and went out to the dress shop. A while later, Mirabel happily twirled in her new dress and coat. After paying for Mirabel's new clothes, Scrooge led Mirabel to where he worked. Scrooge's clerk, Bob Cratchit, greeted his boss, but was confused when he saw Mirabel.
"Er, excuse me, Mr. Scrooge, sir, but there's little girl behind you." Scrooge rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I'm well aware of that, Cratchit. This is Mirabel. She's...staying with me for a while." Mirable happily waved to the clerk.
"Nice to meet you, Senior Cratchit!" Bob smiled and returned the wave. Maybe this little girl could soften Scrooge up. Scrooge sat at his desk and got to work. Mirabel sat in the corner next to Prudence, practicing embroidery on a piece of fabric Mr. Scrooge got her. He told her she could stay in his office, as long as she promised to stay quiet. But after a while, Mirabel grew bored...and curious. She looked over at a portrait of a mean looking man with a moustache. "Who's that?"
"That's my old business partner, Jacob Marley."
"Where is he?"
"He died seven years ago."
"Oh...I'm sorry." Mirabel walked over to Scooge's desk and stood on her tiptoes to watch him work. "...What is it that you do?"
"I'm a money lender."
"What does a money lender do?" Scrooge sighed in annoyance. For a little girl, Mirabel sure did ask a lot of questions.
"A money lender is someone who lends people money. It's pretty self-explanatory." Mirabel looked at the page Scrooge was working on.
"...Those numbers are wrong."
"What?"
"Those numbers. They're wrong." Scrooge looked over his work and realized she was right. "Here, I'll show you." Mirabel took the pen from Scrooge's hand and jotted down the right answer. Scrooge was impressed.
"How did you get to be so good with math?" Mirabel beamed proudly.
"My teacher says I'm very advanced with numbers."
"I would have to agree." Scrooge continued with his work, only now with Mirabel helping him. At the end of the day, Scrooge closed up his shop, and he, Mirabel and Prudence headed home. During the walk, Mirabel looked around to see people decorating their homes and stores.
"What's everyone getting ready for, Mr. Scrooge?" Ebenezer looked at the decorations with a scowl.
"Christmas."
"Christmas? Oh, you mean Navidad." Scrooge rolled his eyes.
"I suppose you're going to tell me how much you love Christmas and can't wait for it to be here." Mirabel shrugged.
"Meh, not really." Scrooge looked at the girl in surprise.
"Wait, really?!"
"I mean, I used to like Christmas, but after I didn't get my gift, I stopped getting presents. Isabella told me it's because El Nino Jesus doesn't give gifts to kids who are useless. Plus, every Navidad, our family invites the whole village to our house, Casita, to celebrate, but Abuela always has me stay in my room, so I don't get in the way." Wanting to change the subject, Mirabel asked "Why don't you like Christmas?"
"...Too many unpleasant memories. Besides, Christmas is nothing but a humbug!" Mirabel raised a brow in confusion.
"What's a humbug?"
"It means Christmas is pointless, a waste of time!" Mirable nodded in agreement. They soon reached the house. Scrooge had finally decided what he was going to do with Mirabel. He kneeled down next to her. "Since you seem to be useful to have around, I've decided to let you stay. In return, you'll cook, keep my house and office clean, mend my clothes, help Cratchit and me with the bookkeeping and help take care of Prudence. Your payment will be five shillings a week. Sound fair?" Mirabel grinned from ear to ear.
"Oh, you don't have to pay me, Mr. Scrooge. I'm happy enough just staying here." She wrapped her arms around the old man's legs for a hug. "Gracias, Mr. Scrooge! I promise, I won't let you down!" Scrooge gently pushed her away.
"Just keep the affection to a minimum."
"(Giggle) Okay." Later that night, after Scrooge tucked Mirabel into bed, as he was leaving the room, he heard her mumble "Goodnight, papa." Scrooge looked back in surprise, before leaving the room, shaking his head. He couldn't be Mirabel's father. He wasn't meant to be a father. He would have to explain to Mirabel that he was just her employer, nothing more.
Over the next few days, Scrooge and Mirabel fell into a routine. They would get up, Mirabel would make breakfast, feed Prudence, then they'd go off to work. While Scrooge worked, Mirabel would either tidy up the office, help Scrooge and Cratchit with the ledgers, or play with Prudence. At the end of the day, they'd close up shop, go home, then Scrooge would help Mirabel with dinner. After dinner, Mirabel would clean the house as much as she could, feed Prudence again, then the three of them would end the day sitting by fire; Scrooge reading or going over paperwork, and Mirabel sitting against Prudence, either reading, practicing her embroidery, or mending Scrooge's clothes. Then they would go to bed and start the next day over again. Mirabel was happy. While Mr. Scrooge wasn't the friendliest person, he was by far nicer than her family or the villagers had been to her. He tried not to yell at her, knowing what she'd been through, made sure she ate all her food, tucked her in at night, and of course, he never hit her. Most importantly, he didn't ignore her or call her useless! As for Scrooge, while he wouldn't admit it, he had come to enjoy Mirabel's company. She had filled a void that he hadn't realized had been there. Plus, she was the most sweetest, polite and well-behaved child he had ever met! Despite her family's cruelty, she still managed to stay cheerful and optimistic, and he admired her for that. Little did the two know, something was about to happen that would make life better for the both of them.