Chapter Text
At the tender age of four, Isabela already sensed that her destiny was being woven for her, predesigned before she even had the chance to live it.
❇❇❇❇❇
"Mamá, why did you get your gift?" Isabela asked sweetly, helping her mother in gathering fruit for the town's food. Her small hands fumbled slightly as she accepted each tomato her mother handed her, delicately placing them in the basket at her side.
"I'm not entirely sure," her mother hummed, her hands grazing each tomato, looking for the ones ready to pick. "But I remember always helping my Mamá cook when I was young, and taking care of my siblings. Maybe that's why."
Turning to her daughter, Julieta caught Isabela gazing at her with affection and adoration.
"Shall we take a brief break, hm?" she suggested, prompting Isabela to stand up eagerly.
After dusting off her dress and hands, the young girl joined her mother's side. Julieta chuckled, removing her gardening gloves and intertwining her fingers with her daughter's.
"Mamá, will I get a gift like you?" the little one inquired.
Julieta looked at her affectionately.
"I don't know, mi corazón. I love you with or without a gift." Julieta brought Isabela's face closer, showering her daughter with a cascade of kisses.
"Mamá!"
❇❇❇❇❇
As the days drew closer to Isabela's birthday, the air in Encanto was charged with anticipation. The village buzzed with excitement, and Isabela herself felt a whirlwind of emotions. As the first grandchild of the Madrigal family to have a ceremony in years, the weight of expectations, especially from Abuela, hung heavily on her young shoulders. Everything had to be perfect, adding an extra layer of stress that weighed on Isabela and her mother, Julieta.
"Mamá, do you want to go collect the ripe fruits together?" the young girl asked her mother, who was busy cooking the biggest pile of arepas Isabela had ever seen.
"Not right now Isa, maybe you could play with Luisa or Dolores?" Julieta suggested, the stress seeping through her voice.
"Dolores is with Tía Pepa, and Luisa doesn't pick the fruits right." Isabela whined.
"I'm sorry mí amor, maybe later I can go with you?"
Isabela, dejected, left the kitchen to go out to the garden herself.
Alone among the tomato plants, Isabela sank into a patch of soft grass, drawing her knees close to her chest. A sigh escaped her lips, carrying with it the weight of unspoken wants and fears.
"Isa?"
Isabela turned to face the voice to see Abuela standing near the entrance to the garden, looking concerned.
"Hi Abuela" Isabela said, woefully.
"What's wrong, mi ángel?"
Abuela sat down on a bench inside the garden, patting the space beside her. Isabela got up and sat down beside her, leaning her head on Abuela's shoulder. Abuela began to affectionately pull her hair out of her face.
"Will my gift be good enough, Abuela?" Isabela asked, shyly.
Abuela had been thinking on this since she saw the door appear half a week ago. She recognized it from when her own door appeared, as with her triplets' doors. She had been the first grandchild, none of the family knew if she or Dolores would get a gift, but it seems that they both could.
Abuela did not know what Isabela's gift would be, but she knew she had to comfort her.
"Of course, why do you ask?"
"I want to help the Encanto like Mamá." Isabela said with big hopeful eyes. "Will I get a healing gift?"
Abuela looked back fondly, feeling her features soften at this expression of childish wonder.
"I do not know, Mijita. I only know that it will be a special gift, as special as you."
❇❇❇❇❇
The day before Isabela's birthday, she found herself wandering around the garden again. Despite the anticipation of the impending gift ceremony, a lingering worry clung to her thoughts.
She was looking at the state of the tomatoes when she noticed a small patch of flowers that she hadn't seen before. Drawn by her insatiable curiosity, she found herself inspecting each blossom with eagerness.
In this newfound corner, one flower caught her attention, its petals drooping in silent distress. With tender fingers, she delicately cupped the fragile blossom, feeling a connection to its delicate vulnerability.
"Don't worry, I got you."
Abuela stood watching her from afar, Isabela too wrapped up in her workings to realize. The young child darted around the garden, gathering tools to aid the struggling flower. Almost guided by an instinctual understanding, knew precisely what the fragile bloom needed. In that moment, the garden, once a place of solitude for Isa, became a canvas to Abuela for Isabela's innate connection with nature and the beauty within it.
"What a perfect child" Abuela softly murmured to herself, heart warmed by Isabela's compassion for the little plant.
As Isabela continued to nurture the wilting flower back to health, Abuela couldn't help but see the beauty of her granddaughter's pure and empathetic nature. However, deep within Isabela's innocent actions, Abuela sensed a seed of vulnerability. Isabela's desire to rescue the struggling flower mirrored her own yearning for acceptance and validation.
Even if Abuela wouldn't admit it, she saw herself in young Isabela. A child with a future full of promise. While Abuela's future seemed to fall away from her, she wouldn't let Isabela's go to waste.
The next day, the air was filled with anticipation as the family gathered for Isabela's gift ceremony. Abuela, hidden behind a mask of composure, observed her granddaughter with a mix of expectation and hope. Isabela, dressed in a pastel purple, stood at the center of attention, her eyes reflecting both excitement and uncertainty.
Isabela's gaze fixed upon the enchanting door, its magical aura beckoning her closer. Anxiously, she extended her hand towards the shimmering doorknob, squeezing her eyes shut in a moment of heightened suspense. A hushed breath escaped her parted lips just before her fingertips made contact with the gleaming surface.
As Isabela's hand touched with the doorknob, a radiant burst of golden magic erupted, weaving an intricate tapestry of enchantment across the door's surface. The once plain door transformed into a masterpiece, a whimsical portrayal of Isabela herself surrounded by a cascade of varying flowers. The air seemed to hum with the energy of this newfound magic, leaving Isabela unable to contain her childish, delighted squeal.
"We have a new gift!" Abuela announced, causing the room to fill with applause and cheering for the young Madrigal.
Luisa, nestled in her mother's arms, squirmed to get down and rushed to her older sister. Isabela quickly gifted her a bouquet of flowers.
Abuela smiled, reassured that her family's legacy and the Encanto would continue to flourish with Isabela's unique gift.
❇❇❇❇❇
Years later, Isabela would be an older teen, sitting in her room of Casita on a bed made of soft flowers.
Isabela felt an overwhelming weight of stress. Abuela, ever the matchmaker, had arranged a date for her with a young man from a prominent family in the village. Unfortunately, the encounter proved unsettling, the young suitor revealing himself to be less than desirable, and more like a total creep.
Summoning courage, Isabela approached Abuela, candidly expressing her discomfort with the evening's events. The response she received was unexpected and hurtful. Abuela, unyielding in her dedication to tradition, labeled Isabela as selfish for not affording the young man a fair chance, insisting she should strive to understand him better.
The reaction ignited a tense argument between the two. Now, in the quietude of her floral escape, Isabela couldn't help but cry. The burden of her grandmother's expectations bore down on her, and the pressure to adhere to traditions conflicting with her own desires left her feeling trapped and overwhelmed.
As Isabela wept, the soft petals of her bed seemed to cradle her, a delicate sanctuary where she hid away from the outside world. The magical refuge, once a source of comfort, now felt stifling. Isabela yearned for the freedom to chart her own course, unburdened by the weight of expectations that threatened to diminish her spirit.