Chapter Text
Olivia took care as she ticked measurements with a flick of her pencil on the piece of paper in front of her. The wooden ruler she used was then lined up to opposing tick marks on the page. She held down the ruler firmly with one hand, and took hold of the corner of the paper with the other. A quick tug and the paper ripped - she pulled and watched it follow the straight edge of the ruler, leaving a fuzzed edge to the newly torn page. The soft tearing sound of paper fibers and clicking of wood on wood was the only sound in her small office. The surface of the desk had scratches and nicks from the years of drafting and assembling volumes of importance.
The rest of her office was a mess, books and drafts stacked in various places, notes to herself connecting materials with each other for future projects. Some were still blank pages, others were half-assembled messes. Her job was assuring the selection, creation, and archiving of important documents of Encanto. Though the community was young, a little more than half a century old, she knew her family was doing an important job by preserving as much of the present for the future.
Following the magic disappearing at Casa Madrigal, the community had assisted them with their rebuilding of an unenchanted casita to house the founding family. Their assistance of the community throughout the years had been returned in kind. Olivia had watched and listened from afar, learning from secondhand accounts of the story thus far to begin writing a historical account of the newest twist in the story of the magical Madrigals. Occasionally, she would visit for what she told herself was research purposes, but she found herself catching up with the family as they opened up to each other and the community. She had known that the Madrigals were not as perfect as they seemed since she was little, but she still found herself surprised each time she learned more about the family.
Bruno, for example: she had presumed he had been one of the few individuals to leave Encanto, but he had been secretly watching over his family for nearly ten years within the walls of Casita . Olivia found herself remembering him as she knew him, a short, nervous kid her age who was known more for his supposed bad luck than any actual aspect of his character. When they were kids, she often accompanied her parents to Casita , where they would discuss files and records of importance for Encanto with Alma. There she would be shooed off to play with the triplets; Pepa braiding her hair, Julieta having her taste test her food. Bruno, on the other hand, would usually sit quietly and observe. When she did talk with him, they discussed books, solitary escapes which turned into a collaboration of young minds between them. Books were frequently traded, along with treats and clothing from Julieta and Pepa, respectively.
Since that time, she had grown with the triplets, though she kept them at arms’ length. Alma, the imposing matriarch she was, held her family above everyone else in the hierarchy of Encanto - that’s just how it was, so Olivia kept to herself and her work. A rift formed between herself and her former friends, the Madrigal triplets. She observed from afar the changes that led to Bruno’s disappearance. The way the shining beacon of the Madrigals would not – could not – ever fade. That is, until Mirabel was pushed to action from her family’s insistence to suppress any and all imperfections.
When Olivia finally sat with the fifteen year old and listened intently as she recounted her adventure through the past, present, and future of her family, she spoke fondly of her tio, Bruno. He was imperative to the revival of the Madrigal’s magic, much to his insistence that he could only spell bad luck and misfortune. It was a surprise to none that when Mirabel put the finishing touch on the newly minted Casita , her turn of the doorknob brought the home back to life and the gifts coursing through the family once again.
What did surprise everyone, however, was the fact that others in Encanto began receiving gifts.
The gifts appeared at random. No shining doors, no fanfare, just a sudden emergence into existence. The seamstress could suddenly know the measurements of any individual, with extreme accuracy. The optometrist could suddenly manipulate glass, leading to more accurate lenses for their patients. These new gifts were welcome, of course, but the people of Encanto were still wary of treading on the previous territory of the Madrigals. The playing field was becoming more even. If non-Madrigals could hold gifts, what else was possible?
Olivia took a break from her work to sit back in her chair and sigh. It had only been a few weeks since the inception of these gifts, but she was hard at work trying to document it properly in Encanto ’s archives. She decided that the best course of action was to look at the past. How her parents had documented the gifts when they were first given to the triplets would surely help give her some semblance of how to put the ineffable miracle of magic into words. Yes, she was here, able to give a firsthand account of the event, but that didn’t help, only hinder. Her impostor syndrome became aggravated from the change from small events to such a large event to document. She had to admit her memory was not as it used to be, what with the memorization of documents’ locations, their contents, how to organize them - thus was the life of an archivist. Especially one working alone.
Olivia delved into the community’s archives in the cool basement to procure the document of the first gift ceremony, written by her parents. She was short compared to these shelves, as well as everyone else, and had to climb a rickety wooden stepladder to be able to barely reach the book she needed. Stretching to her full height on her tiptoes, her fingers brushed the spine.
She felt a jolt. It ran through her fingers, up her arm, her spine -
Her vision blurred, yet she could tell that what was in front of her was changing to a golden tinge. Her breath caught, surprise taking hold of her -
When the vision cleared, she saw three small figures from a distance. One was taller than the other two, unreleased energy evident in the way she couldn’t contain herself from hopping from foot to foot. The second tallest sternly set a hand on the other’s shoulder, lifting a cautionary finger to her lips. The first lowered herself down so her feet were flat against the ground, still in a stance poised for action. The smallest poked out from behind them both, thick eyebrows low, green eyes wide with curiosity.
It was the trillizos Madrigal; Pepa, Julieta, and Bruno in order of height. It was night; the moon watched over them as they, led by Pepa, crept toward a shining golden light that shifted and changed, soft and warm and most of all welcoming. Before them were three doors on an otherwise bare wall; they were nondescript if not for their glowing façades.
Tiles popped up from the floor in a wave of movement, catching the feet of the children and urging them towards the doors, interrupting them from their awestruck state. They each took their stance in front of each of the doors, eyes wide with wonder.
Alma came into view from around a corner, squinting through sleep. When she saw the doors, she sobered, blinking a few times before moving forward.
"Mi hijos, why are you up?" Her voice was soft despite no one else in the house to be bothered by a normal speaking voice. In her hands she held the magical candle that never faltered, flickered, nor melted. At her voice, the children whipped around to look at her, each of them shrinking in the way only children can when they've been caught doing something they weren't supposed to.
"We – we all woke up, and suddenly Casita was telling us to go here," Julieta explained, fairly confident.
"We didn't wanna wake you," Bruno squeaked out.
"Relax, it's okay," Alma comforted with a smile as she walked to them, standing behind the three. Her smile turned to a scrutinizing gaze as she paused in thought. The house was magical, yes, but why add new rooms? Did Casita deem the kids ready for their own spaces?
"Can we open them, Mamí? Por favor? " Pepa pleaded, hands clasped under her chin.
Alma took in a deep breath and sighed, examining the doors. They didn't look harmful, and the trillizos would need their own rooms soon. " Casita? " she asked, "Was this your doing?" A tile from the floor in front of her flipped up and down as an affirmative.
Worrying the inside of her lip, she mulled over the possibilities. The candle, and by translation, the house, had only brought good fortune for them and their community. " Vamos ," she said, and nodded her head towards the doors. "They must be for you."
Pepa grinned so hard that her cheeks hurt. She whirled and reached for the door knob –
Julieta, given Alma's permission, reached out for the door knob –
Bruno reached out last, heart beating rapidly in his chest despite the knowledge that everything was safe. His fingers stretched to meet the doorknob –
Olivia’s eyes snapped open, but she immediately closed them at the assault of light that caused her already hurting head to throb more. She winced and brought the heel of her hand to rub at her eyes. How much time had passed?
"Eat this," Julieta said, putting something warm in her hand that she couldn't see because her eyes were screwed shut.
When Olivia took a cautious bite, she realized it was one of Julieta’s famous arepas, her shoulders relaxing. The pain in her head and back dissipated quickly, and she devoured the rest, the taste reminding her of how hungry she was – she hadn't eaten yet today. When she opened her eyes, Julieta was in a seat next to her in what she recognized to be the nursery. In her hands she held a book, and in her lap a plate of arepas . She didn't break eye contact with the book as she lifted the plate to Olivia. "Do you need more, Oliva ? How do you feel?"
Olivia took the plate graciously, setting it in her own lap. Instead of answering, she chomped on another arepa , sighing as she waited for the feeling of dizziness to subside. She wasn't sure if she was dizzy from not eating all day or if she was dizzy from… whatever just happened. What had happened?
When she opened her mouth to ask, Julieta cut her off. "Mirabel was stopping by to see you at your house, but she found you on the floor by a stepstool. Did you hit yourself in the head with a book? We had to have Luisa carry you back.”
"Actually, I -- " Olivia paused, trying to put her experience into words. "I was looking for the records on the first gift ceremony… to compare it to how people are getting gifts now. But – I saw something. When I touched the book, I saw something."
Julieta tilted the book down and cocked an eyebrow at Olivia. "You saw something?"
She worried at her lip, nodding. She didn't have anyone else to tell, and she supposed the Madrigals were probably the people to go to with a revelation like this. She pushed down any nervousness and broke through it to speak. "...A vision."
"A vision ?" Dolores squeaked, startling Bruno from his concentration on sketching. He was drawing his favorite rat, Alejandro. Was being the operative word.
" Dios, Dolores - what did you hear?" Bruno asked, erasing a stray pencil mark caused by his surprise.
Dolores held a plate in one hand, a rag in the other. She was drying plates and stacking them quietly until her sudden outburst. " Oliva's awake. She said she was reaching for a book of records… and saw a vision – that's why Mirabel found her on the floor."
Bruno furrowed his brows, watching Dolores and waiting for any more news. She couldn't help that she could hear everything - what she could do, however, was zero in on what was most interesting. She was the one who let the whole family know that someone outside the family received a gift. Bruno guessed she was doing just that, again.
"It was of the past -- " Dolores relayed, then paused to listen again, eyes growing wide. "She saw you and Julieta and Mamá open your doors -- getting your gifts."
Bruno’s jaw unconsciously clenched. He longed to believe it, longed to have a semblance of normalcy and kinship with another person, besides his family. His optimism told him that maybe this was a good sign. If he wasn't the only one with a vision-reliant gift, then maybe he wouldn't be seen as such an outcast. Only his self-doubt said that his outcast status was self-made. Even if Olivia did have a gift like his, it wouldn't erase what he'd done – what he'd brought onto his family. Instead of asking anything, his doubt made him shrink into himself more. He softly tapped the wood of his seat thrice to calm himself, and tapped his pencil on his sketchbook the same.
Dolores continued. "...You had a vision of your surprise party later that day. You… couldn't control your visions then, so you kept having flashes and they'd... hurt you." Her voice decrescendoed as she went on, and she looked to Bruno with eyes that expressed both her remorse and a question of whether she should keep listening.
At this revelation, Bruno's mind wandered to the past. He did have those symptoms while he was learning about his gift, and even now – or at least, when he last used his gift regularly – he'd get fatigued, have migraines, and get nauseous if he used it too much. He shook himself from his hope again. Maybe she just assumed from watching me do visions when we were little.
He closed his sketchbook and stood from his stool. "I'll - I'll go check it out," he assured his sobrina , laying a hand on her shoulder and squeezing as he walked past her and out the kitchen. She smiled softly, but her brows furrowed with worry belied her true emotions.
Outside the nursery door – now empty, since Mirabel had her own room in Casita – Bruno could hear Julieta and Olivia talking. Not loud enough for him to make out words, but he clenched his jaw and willed himself to be confident. My name is Hernando, and I'm scared of nothing, he told himself, but didn't lift his ruana’s hood. Bruno knew those quirks weren't acceptable now that he was working on being a productive member of society, yet he knocked three times and crossed his fingers at his sides as he waited in front of the door.
Julieta answered with a soft smile. Behind her, on what used to be Mirabel’s bed, sat Olivia with a confused expression. "Oh, hola, Brunito –” Julieta greeted. “Is there something you need?"
Bruno crossed and uncrossed his fingers at his sides as he explained. "Dolores said that Olivia – well, I heard she had some sort of vision?"
Julieta raised her brows a bit as if to say, wow, news travels fast , and then nodded in resignation. "Yes, she did… of the past."
"How do we – " he started, then realized he was cutting Olivia out of the conversation. He made a point to look at her, but he accidentally met her eyes and instinctively looked away. "Um, Olivia – how do you know? Was it just some dream, maybe? You… did know us as kids. You saw how our gifts work…" he said, words laced with nerves. Olivia's lips pursed in thought, but he took it as an indication that what he said was an accidental insult. "Not – not to say I don't trust you – but, well, we haven't seen each other in a long time – "
"Brunito, easy," Julieta soothed his rambling, pulling him into the room by his ruana and closing the door behind them, hoping to keep what little privacy they had left. She gestured for him to sit in the chair she had been sitting in, facing the bed and therefore Olivia. He sat obediently.
"I…" Olivia began, gaze averted at the arepas , which were now on the side table. She leaned back against the wall, bringing one leg up and wrapping her arms around the knee. "I know what I saw," she said, dejected.
Trying to lift her spirits, Bruno leaned forward, fingers twisting the frayed ends of his ruana . "Well – what if you tried it again? But – but with a person this time?"
Olivia looked up without lifting her head, peering at him over thin gold frames of her glasses. "What do you mean?"
"Well, when I, uh… have flashes, it can be from objects too – but even just touching people can trigger it." Bruno's hands moved in frantic bursts as he talked. "If you tried – maybe, concentrating and then touching someone – usually just hands work – then maybe you'll… maybe you'll get a flash of something. We can see it when it happens, this time."
Olivia's mind took hold of the when but scrutinized Bruno's face for a second. After a long silence where Bruno's brows grew increasingly knitted, Olivia's skeptical stare turned to relief.
"...Okay."
They sat face to face, this time both on the nursery bed, legs crossed. Julieta had excused herself to begin dinner preparations, leaving them to their experiment. Olivia was finally able to observe the ways Bruno changed compared to the way she remembered him. His green eyes were weary, which held shadows underneath heavy with the weight of missed sleep. His hair was unruly and passed his shoulders in length. Silver threaded through his curls. A few locks of hair fell in front of his gaunt face, his owlish green eyes hiding behind. His signature green ruana that swathed his small frame drew her attention to his hands. They were thin, bony even, and busy with something at all times. Whether it be the fabric of his ruana, crossing and uncrossing his fingers, knocking on wooden objects or his own body in multiples of threes - they were electric with anxiety. Olivia pondered on how she would react if only having friendly rats as company for a decade, and she concluded that his disposition was an appropriate one, given his circumstances.
Bruno, however, noticed how long her hair had become since the last he saw her. It was pulled back into a thick braid, a long streak of gray winding through from root to tip, beginning at her left temple. Her white blouse that revealed her collarbone was tucked into a yellow skirt, where white flowers poked through the solid color. She tucked some stray hairs behind her ear again, which she did often in the past. Her hair was prime real estate when they were kids; Pepa and Julieta were always vying to be the person to style it that day. She bit at the inside of her lip, a nervous habit Bruno recognized, and which she never grew out of.
"Should I… try concentrating?" She asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He instinctively held his hands out to her like he was the one giving the vision, palms up. She mirrored him, her soft hands hovered over his outstretched ones, hesitant to touch.
"Yeah – that might help," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I haven't – I've gotten so used to it so I don't notice those things anymore."
She nodded, then took a deep breath and met his eyes. "...Tell me if anything happens, okay Brunito ?" The childhood nickname made him smile a little, and she smiled back. She closed her eyes, and her hands softly landed on his outstretched palms. The contact pulled something in his chest and the back of his mind, but he concentrated on her face, ignoring the feelings.
Olivia's eyes opened wide, revealing her once-brown eyes to be shining gold.
His breath caught in his throat. He waited, studying the way she looked. Was this how he looked when he had visions? Her face was significantly more stern, lips parted slightly, eyes boring into his without moving. She looks so wise - she looks… kind of scary.
As suddenly as it happened, her face went slack, eyes fluttered closed, and she would have nearly collapsed into the wall if he hadn't scrambled to grab her. He grabbed at her wrists, pulled, then grabbed her arms, pulled. Her limp body, moving with the force, stuttered toward him, and her head lolled from leaning backward to forward and landed on his bony shoulder clumsily. He winced, hoping that she wasn't hurt by his bones thinly veiled in skin.
Bruno, heart racing, sat there frozen for a moment once Olivia wasn't in immediate danger. Then, he took a slow breath in and out and loosened his grip on Olivia. He moved her head from his shoulder to the crook of his arm, moving her arms to a more comfortable position crossed over her abdomen. Cradling her, he swallowed and examined her for any injury or indication something was wrong. Her brow was furrowed, she was still breathing – all good signs – but what he noticed the most was the way her eyelashes grazed her cheeks. He felt a blush creep up from his neck and decided to speak.
"O… Oliva?" he whispered, using his childhood nickname for her. "Oliva , I - I saw it, I saw you having your vision..." Despite no answer or reaction, he kept talking, mostly to himself. "Is that what I look like when I give visions? ...My eyes glow, I know that, but… yours are gold..." He continued to muse to himself, soft mumblings of an anxious mind as his gaze wandered.
Olivia stirred, and Bruno’s gaze snapped to her. He knew from experience she'd be disoriented and maybe dizzy – and have a hell of a headache, too. He reached for an arepa, despite knowing it was probably cold by now.
With a groan, Olivia attempted to sit up, but winced and held her head in her hands, fingers digging into her hair. She curled into herself a bit, leaning her head on his shoulder again and almost hiding under his hair.
"Hey, eat this," Bruno held out the arepa, and Olivia grabbed it blindly. She took a large, aggressive bite from it. Her eyes were still closed, screwed shut in pain. "I saw it," he whispered to her now that she was awake, smiling in a rare expression of excitement. "Your eyes glowed gold."
Olivia’s face relaxed slowly as she chewed, eyes still closed. "I saw you in the walls," she said, in a whisper as well. "You took food from the kitchen, but… sometimes Dolores would leave some food for you. There are spots around the house that you can reach through. Casita made secret ways for you to get in the house without being seen. Usually at night…" She spoke matter of factly, calm and collected, like reciting from a book. She was a historian, Bruno reasoned, so her whole life was converting events to easily digestible words, paragraphs, and eventually books.
Bruno stared down at her, noticing he hadn't been this physically close to anyone that wasn't his family in a while. He had always been a loner, a hermit, what have you – but he found himself wanting a new lease on social interaction now that he was out of his self-imposed isolation. He wanted to be close to his family, he wanted to be a part of Encanto again… The problem was, he still bore the scars of a social outcast. For Bruno's first taste of positive interaction in a while, it was nice - so nice a part of him longed for it to last forever.
The universe, it seemed, had other plans.
"This arepa is cold.” Olivia muttered, lifting herself from his shoulder. Her brown eyes met Bruno’s, and he found himself searching for any hint of gold. “Should we see if dinner is ready?"