Worth The Shot

How to Make a Miracle

Today's fanart is by @H3ycomeon_ ! I love the shading in her curls and the caption, my guess is that this is the scene where she goes up in a trial for stealing the candle. Love it!

BACK TO THE STORY

"It would seem that Mirabel is my child."

"No way," you gasped. You could feel your eyes bulging round and jaw gaping open with almost comically exaggerated shock at this revelation. But you couldn't help it. Sweet, supportive Augustin wasn't even Mirabel's father. "Does that mean... you and Julieta..." You trailed off in embarrassment, unwilling to complete the disgusting accusation.

"No," Gothel laughed quietly, shaking his head as if appreciating a cheesy knock-knock joke. "Julieta is not Mirabel's mother. To be honest, I've fathered so many children that I can hardly be expected keep all of their mothers straight."

"So the only thing keeping Mirabel alive was the magic of the Encanto," you flatly said, revolted by Gothel's nonchalant recount. He ruined the lives of so many women. He stole their children and left them for dead. "When the magic weakened, there was nothing to keep her golden blood at bay, so it began to consume her."

"Correct. Skin contact with me must have hastened the process," Gothel thinly smiled, pleased. "Your father was right; you're a smart one."

"Where-"

"I haven't seen your father since he escaped the mountain."

"And my uncle? Sebastian?"

"He's..." Gothel hesitated, studying you carefully. "He's safe."

You brushed off Gothel's odd, evasive response. Frankly, you weren't too concerned with the wellbeing of your absent, slightly psychotic uncle. If he was safe, you didn't need the details.

"My daughter," Gothel enunciated the "d" as if pronouncing a luxurious flower, "Is almost dead, yes? Once the gold burns through her skin, she will be lost."

"Don't you care?" You exploded, forcefully slamming your hands onto the rock and jerking to your feet. "She's your daughter. Don't you care at all?" Surprisingly, Gothel stayed silent. The wet ripple of the river rolled like gentle white noise.

"The key, (y/n)," Gothel finally instructed, folding his calloused hands together with uncharacteristic sullenness. He kept his voice level and emotionless. "Free me, and I'll tell you the secret of the miracle. Then you'll never hear from me again."

Shakily, you drew the key from your dress pocket. You closed your fist around the cool, pale-blue stone. Your eyes darted to the forest-green bushes. You couldn't see them, but behind the thick greenery the Madrigals hid. Ready to intervene if things crashed.

"We'll be right behind you, (y/n)," Julieta had promised before slipping under the cover of the waxy, broad leaves. Every Madrigal but Mirabel, Antonio, Camilo, and Pepa was warily watching for any sudden treacheries.

"Hold the key," you commanded, sliding it across the slick rock with a smooth screech. You spoke quickly before your nerve crumbled. "Don't unlock your chains before you tell me how to restore the miracle and save Mirabel."  If Gothel planned betrayal, this would buy you time.

"If you say so," Gothel easily agreed, nodding effusively. His hands greedily snatched up the key, and he turned it over like a solid gold nugget. Over. Over.

"Start talking," you whispered, but your voice betrayed you. With the way it turned raspy with fear, your order sounded more like a plea.

"Where do miracles come from?" Gothel mused, adjusting his grip on the key. The harsh moonlight shimmied off of its marbled surface. "Gifted by deities? Forged by nature itself? My cousin had a theory; she believed they fell in sun drops from the sky."