@justadreaminghufflepuff asked for: Pepa going to water the fields after Bruno leaves and remembering how Bruno used to tag along when they were young so he could tell her sad stories to get the job done then funny ones to make her smile again.
Sorry this took so long! Please note that one of the stories mentions animal death (not in detail), so be mindful if that’s something that would upset you.
It had been a rainy spring. Sure, springtime normally brought plenty of showers, but Pepa’s gift helped compensate for any lack of rainfall in the encanto.
There had been a lot of compensation that year.
It wasn’t like Pepa could help it. Her gift was still, as a forty-year-old woman, not fully under her control. Usually, she’d rely on Félix or her siblings to help her harness whatever emotion would produce the desired weather. Well, one sibling in particular…
Yet even in his absence, he caused Pepa to rain. Torrential storms tormented the town, causing the river to flood over. Fortunately, many of the crops hadn’t been planted yet, so not much was lost. With some grumbling, the farmers agreed to wait until the rain was under control before planting. A delay was better than no food at all. They would still be fed that winter.
Eventually, the rains dried up. The river receded to its normal levels, and the ground gave up the extra water it had been harboring. Crops were planted. Young plants were tended to. For a time, everything was running smoothly.
Then the dry spell began. There would be no rain for long stretches of time, interspersed by brief intense showers. Evidently, it was going to be a dry year.
Apparently Pepa had been compensating far more than everyone had realized.
Although the townspeople had been avoiding contacting Pepa, out of both respect for the family’s loss and fear of her reaction, it had become inevitable. If it didn’t rain, their crops would be lost.
So, a brave soul reached out to Julieta in the marketplace, asking her to pass the message onto her sister. No one dared confront her directly. They’d seen what happened to people who invoked her wrath. The charred remains of that cobblestone could still be seen in the plaza.
But Julieta had a way of speaking to Pepa that calmed even her most extreme emotion. Whether it was elation scorching the ground, or sorrow drowning everything, Julieta was able to soothe Pepa back to a state of tranquility. It was an ability honed over years of experience. Not even Félix was able to calm her so thoroughly. With him, Pepa would be so grateful to calm down that sunlight would burst out whether people liked it or not.
When complete calm was needed, people turned to Julieta. Some commented, in hushed whispers, that this gift was just as valuable as her healing.
And so, Pepa found herself leaving the house for the first time since… well, since what had happened after Mirabel’s gift ceremony. Her feet knew the way, leading her up the path towards the fields and their parched crops.
She wasn’t quite sure how this would go. Normally, her brother would accompany her on the trip; helping her use her gift and do what was needed, since Pepa couldn’t exactly force herself to cry on command. He’d come up with some sad story to tug on her heartstrings and make her cry long enough to water the crops, then just as easily tell her something happy to cheer her back up and stop the rain. In return, Pepa would help him when his visions left him shaken and terrified.
Somehow, the Madrigal gifts weren’t really gifts to the Madrigals themselves.
It had started when she was little. After a short adjustment period, when people saw that she’d gained a modicum of control over her gift, they immediately started requesting her to make it rain on command. They requested sun sometimes, or a gust of wind occasionally on a sweltering day when they wanted to cool down, but it was primarily rain they’d ask for.
The first time Pepa went to the fields, she was by herself. She stood there for what felt like hours, trying desperately to make herself sad enough for it to rain. Ultimately, it was the thought that she’d be a failure who would let down her mamá that finally brought down the rain. But she had gotten so sad over the situation that she wasn’t able to make the rain stop for far too long. She had walked home in waterlogged alpargatas that day.
Following that incident, her mamá had decided someone should go with her when she went to water the crops; just to keep an eye on her and make sure she was okay. Bruno and Julieta would take turns at first, but as Julieta got busier and busier with her healing, Bruno was left as Pepa’s companion.
She wouldn’t trade it for anything.
At home, Bruno still acted like a normal brother, annoying her and causing her grief. But when they were at the fields, he was her biggest support. Pepa remembered the first story he told her to get her to cry. It was a horribly sad tale about a bunny that had died. She’d begun sobbing uncontrollably, and then Bruno quickly reassured her that the bunny had been healed somehow and came back to life.
The first time she heard this ending caught her off guard. It was impossible, she argued. Dead things don’t just come back to life.
Well, it was a story, Bruno shot back, so it could have whatever ending they wanted. Didn’t she want the bunny to be alive again? Then stop complaining. Stories were allowed to have impossible things happen. That’s what made them stories and not real life.
Pepa had to concede, she did like the ending where the bunny lived again. From then on, she began to wholeheartedly believe in the impossible.
She still wanted to believe that impossible things could happen. Except now her wishes were far less naïve than wanting a bunny to come back to life.
Every time they went to the fields, Bruno would tell her the story of the bunny. The details would vary, but the overall plot remained the same: the bunny died, somehow the bunny came back to life, everyone lived happily ever after, the end. As they grew older, the story morphed to fit her newfound interests. Dying animals gave way to star-crossed lovers, kept tragically apart by various circumstances (varying in intensity depending on how much rain was needed), but always, always, reunited at the end.
Pepa adored these stories, with their drama and twists and turns. She joked that Bruno should write them down, like a book or a play. Surely other people would enjoy her brother’s creativity too.
(When she discovered romance novels, she was just delighted.)
But she couldn’t dwell on those memories now. Not when she trudged towards the field with heavy feet and a heavier heart. She had to focus on the task at hand: make it rain enough to water the crops, and not so much that it would flood the fields. The last few weeks, she had been feeling numb; not really sad or angry or upset anymore, just a kind of flat buzzing filling the void left by the intense emotions that had wracked her after… well, after. She wasn’t sure whether she’d be able to make it rain.
Finally, she reached the fields. She surveyed the plants; taking in wilted, yellowing leaves with curled edges desperately crying out for water.
The buzzing was still in her head.
She missed Bruno.
She wished Bruno was here.
She missed Bruno.
But he wasn’t. He was gone.
She missed Bruno.
She might never see him again.
Suddenly, the floodgates opened.
It turned out she didn’t have to worry about whether she could make it rain.
Pass the happy!🌻When you receive this, list five things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications. 💛💛💛
1. Spending some time with a good book/show or mostly just browsing tumblr and Ao3 and Fanfiction for stuff. Or just staring at photos of characters 💙.
2. Spending time and doing stupid things with my friends. To some people watching a movie or doing stupid tricks on a swing might not seem nice but that's pretty much my friendships.
3. Drawing or writing stories.
4. Singing or listening to music
5. A nice big ice cream. What, they're really good.
