Dance With My Father

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Elena of Avalor

Copyright: Disney

/

"If I could steal one final glance,
One final step, one final dance with him,
I'd play a song that would never ever end
'Cause I'd love, love, love to dance with my father again."

Luther Vandross, "Dance With My Father"

/

"Oh my, what happened?" asked Rafa de Alva. "What's wrong?"

Mateo and Princess Elena were standing in front of her garden gate, arm in arm, as muddy and disheveled as if they'd been walking through the jungle all day, but what frightened Rafa most was the look on their faces. All of Elena's warmth and charisma, which she had kept even when preparing to attack Shuriki, had drained away and left nothing but exhaustion. As for Mateo, his eyes were swollen with tears.

"Abuelo is dead," he said.

"Wh … what?" Rafa stuttered. "What are you talking about?"

She'd assumed for years now that Alacazar must be dead. He'd be a very old man by now and she'd never heard from him, not even after Shuriki's defeat when it would have been safe. The way Mateo said this, however, it had the ring of truth, as if he'd just seen his grandfather die with his own eyes.

"It's a long story," said Mateo, his hoarse, boyish voice worn down to a croak. "Can we please come in?"

"Oh! Of course." Rafa ushered them along the path and into the house. "This way, Your Highness. Come in, come in."

For the next few minutes, she became a whirlwind of hospitality: fetching water and towels for them to wash up after their hot jungle trek, fluffing up the seat cushions in the living room, filling up a pitcher of lemonade and a bowl of butter cookies … she might be helpless to fix the important things, but at the very least, she could make her son and the princess physically comfortable.

Mateo, who was usually mildly embarrassed when his mother got like this and preferred to take care of things himself, never said a word except to thank her. Elena smiled graciously, but it was only a shadow of the smile that used to brighten up the entire Via Mercado.

"Now then," said Rafa, sitting down opposite the young people at her wooden kitchen table with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Tell me everything, and start from the beginning."

Mateo and Elena exchanged a speaking glance, as if to decide which one of them should begin the story. After a long silence, Elena spoke first.

"I don't know if you knew this, Se?ora, but your father had himself transformed into a magical book so that he would live longer. He was afraid to leave the Amulet behind in case it … in case I … fell into the wrong hands. A few days ago, Mateo and I had the book brought over from Enchancia … "

"Wait a minute." Rafa knew it was rude to interrupt a princess, but something about this order of events disturbed her. "Did you say a few days ago?"

"Yes."

"You couldn't have done it earlier? You left my father sitting on a shelf for three years?"

Elena lowered her eyes in silent contrition. Mateo covered her hand with his.

"We thought he was safe," he said. "He was in a secret library that only Princess Sofia knew about. We always meant to bring him back someday. But what with Ash and the other malvagos out there, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to beat them alone. I asked Elena to have the book sent over so that Abuelo could teach me advanced magic, but ... "

He trailed off and Elena took over: "Once it arrived, we found that the book was old and falling to pieces. We could still communicate with Alacazar inside it, but he warned us that if we didn't turn him human again right away, the book would fall apart and he'd go with it."

Rafa's head spun with shock and disbelief, as well as the beginning of anger. "You never told me any of this!"

"I didn't want to get your hopes up too early in case … in case I failed." Mateo's voice trembled. "It was supposed to be a surprise for you, Mamá … I … I was gonna bring him back to you … tonight … "

His amber eyes, already red from crying, welled up again. Elena moved closer to him and rubbed his back, whispering so softly only the two of them could hear.

Rafa knew what her son must be thinking, as she'd imagined the same thing a million times: how Alacazar would come sweeping down the lane, resplendent in purple robes and smiling through his beard, and how he would pick her up and swing her around and tell her how much he'd missed her. How he and Mateo would cozy up in their workshop and come back full of enthusiasm about some arcane project, and at least half the responsibility of parenting would be off her shoulders. How they'd be a family, all three generations of them, and keep each other safe.

She felt the weight of Mateo's disappointed hopes as if they were her own, and couldn't bear to blame him when he so obviously blamed himself.

"Shh, mijo." She reached across the table to squeeze her son's hand. "Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."

"That's what I told him," said Elena. "Mateo? … Do you want to tell the rest, or should I?"

"I can do it."

He pulled himself together with visible effort, wiped his eyes on his long sleeves, and straightened up in his chair. In a few brief, matter-of-fact words, he told his mother about the trap Ash and the others had set, and the battle that had cost Alacazar his life only minutes after regaining it.

"I dealt with Zopilote," he finished, "But Ash and Esteban teleported away."

"When you say you dealt with him … "

"I turned him into a canary." He smiled grimly. "A tiger hawk dived right after him. We didn't stay to watch, but I think it ate him. In any case, he won't be working magic anymore."

"Serves him right," said Rafa, "If I were you, I'd have done exactly the same thing."

The princess listened to the conversation with dark, tearless, expressionless eyes. Rafa almost wished the younger woman would cry as Mateo had done.

"Se?ora … Mateo … I'm sorry." Elena's voice was quiet, but with deep anguish behind it, as if she were working hard to hold it back. "My family and I have brought nothing but trouble to you and yours. It's because of me that Alacazar stayed away so long, and then when I was free, I … I forgot about him. Being trapped in the Amulet was horrible, and I only meant to put it behind me, but you're right - leaving him on a shelf was no way to repay his kindness. And now … now Esteban is complicit in your father's death, and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

So she really had forgotten. The admission stung, but at least she was being honest.

Rafa began to say something, but Mateo spoke out first. He turned to face Elena, caught both of her hands in his and looked at her with blazing amber eyes.

"Please don't say that, Elena," he said passionately. "Don't even think it. If anyone brought trouble to our family, it was Shuriki, never you. She killed Papá and drove Abuelo away. You're the one who saved us all, remember? And if Shuriki could be stopped, so can Ash. I believe in us."

Some of her usual warmth came back into Elena's face as she looked back at her Royal Wizard. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes flickered with uncertain hope.

"Let me ask you one thing, Princess," said Rafa. The two young people moved apart and turned back to her. "Did you order my father to delay your return?"

"No." The short, sharp emphasis spoke volumes about how unhappy Elena's magical confinement must have been."

"So it was his initiative. I thought so."

Elena tilted her head in confusion.

"I may have been a child when my father left, but I haven't forgotten what sort of man he was. He came across as charming, even silly, but underneath it all, he was fiercely protective of both his secrets and the people he cared about. There were always books I couldn't read and locked rooms I couldn't go into. I didn't like it, but since having a child of my own, I've come to understand that it was all out of love."

"That sounds like him," Mateo murmured with downcast eyes. "Codes and riddles and secret workshops … and he took Zopilote's curse for me."

"He always used to shoot down my plans because they were too risky," Elena agreed, smiling ruefully. "It made me so mad, but he was right. Too many failed attempts to steal Shuriki's wand would have only made her more paranoid than ever. Sofia was the right choice in the end."

"You see?" It was Rafa's turn to squeeze Elena's hand, just as she had done with her son earlier. "He made his own decisions. I can either sit around asking what if, or I can be grateful that at least the two of you survived today."

"You're a wise woman, Se?ora." Elena's dark eyes brightened with gratitude.

Rafa had felt conflicted about Elena Castillo-Flores all her adult life. Even as she'd taught Mateo to revere the lost princess as a symbol of hope, one they badly needed to get through Shuriki's rule, she couldn't help envying the girl as well. Elena was the one Alacazar had given up everything to protect rather than his own family. She probably knew more about him than Rafa did, and she'd never once tried to share her memories.

Yet here Elena was now, honest and vulnerable and so very young, not a symbol, just a fellow human being. Whatever her share of guilt might be, it was certainly not the whole.

"Oh, please, Your Highness." Rafa patted the young woman's hand before letting go. "After everything we've been through, you might as well call me Rafa."

"Only if you call me Elena."

"It's a deal."

They smiled at each other as Rafa stood up to clear the empty glasses from the table. Wise woman or not, anger and grief were still smoldering at the back of her mind. She wished the young people, even her son, would go back to the palace so that she could let it out in private. She was the mother; it was her job to reassure her son, not the other way around. She didn't want him to see how much she felt like an abandoned six-year-old right now.

On her way to the counter, she almost tripped over Mateo's backpack where he had dropped it next to his chair. The top was open. She was just about to give him her habitual reminder that he shouldn't carry it that way in case his tamborita fell out, when something brightly colored inside the worn leather bag distracted her. It looked like a bundle of pink and orange wool, perhaps a sweater or a shawl.

She looked closer.

The bundle was breathing.

"What in the Ever Realm is that?"

"Oh, well … " Elena blushed again. "I don't know if you were there last Carneval … "

Rafa had, in fact, been there. The rampaging parade floats had put her off the idea of Carneval for life. It had been both reassuring and alarming how easily they'd responded to Elena's new powers. If Avalor had to have a ruler who could unleash arcane forces of destruction, at least she also knew how to calm them down.

"Is this the creature you brought to life, then?"

"Yeah, that's Flo." Elena looked down at the open bag with an expression Rafa had seen often enough in the mirror, that of a very new guardian with a beloved but sometimes exasperating charge. "She's all tired out from the trip."

"I can see that."

"I wouldn't wake her up if I were you. She's sweet, but also brutally honest. It takes getting used to."

Just as Elena said that, however, one pointed ear twitched and a pair of eyes blinked slowly open. A long tail and an even longer neck unfurled themselves, and a high-pitched voice chirped: "Huh? … Are we there yet?"

"Almost home," said Elena. "Flo, this is Rafa, Mateo's mother and Alacazar's daughter. This is her house we're in right now. Rafa, meet Flo."

The magical creature wriggled out of the backpack, stood on the floor, and stared up at Rafa with enormous, fascinated blue eyes.

"Ah … hello there," said Rafa awkwardly, holding out her fingertips as she would for a dog or a cat.

"You're the little girl he asked about?" said Flo. "You're a lot older than I thought."

Those few words were enough to shatter Rafa's composure in a way nothing else could have done.

Yes, she was that little girl. Yes, she'd grown old waiting for a father who never came back. And yes, after all her waiting, she'd missed out on the last day of his life.

"Yes," she faltered. "Yes, I am," and she dropped into the nearest empty chair. "He .. asked about me?"

One of the things that had hurt her most over the years was the idea that he'd forgotten about her, or simply hadn't cared enough to send word. The fact that he hadn't asked to see her before taking Mateo and Elena on his mission seemed to confirm that, even if he had been in a hurry to reverse the book spell.

"Of course," said Flo. "Whenever they weren't talking about magic, they were talking about you. He said you must have become a great woman, and he couldn't wait to see you again."

Brutally honest, that was what Elena had said, but in that moment, Rafa found Flo's honesty healing. If the alpacamundi was telling the truth, her father had loved her after all.

"I'm … glad to know that," she said. "But I wish I could've seen him again too."

She could have been there. She could have spoken to him again, never mind if it was in the form of a crumbling old book. All these years, she'd imagined him somewhere far away, but he'd been so close. In the palace. Inside Mateo's workshop. She'd missed him by such a short distance, and that hurt more than if the entire Ever Realm had stretched between them.

Still, at least now she knew what had happened. The uncertainty of all these years had been worse than anything. When her husband had been executed as a rebel against Shuriki, and when her mother had died of a weak heart, at least she'd known what she was grieving for.

Locked doors and secrets might be a form of protection in the de Alva family, but Mateo had been right to break that tradition when he was a child. The truth could hurt you, but it could also set you free.

Flo trotted over to her and nudged her leg. "You can cuddle me if you like," she said. "I'm soft, and my fur dries easily. Elena says I make her feel better."

Rafa gathered the little creature into her arms and rocked her gently back and forth, as she had done with Mateo when he was a baby, and as Alacazar and Graciela had done with her. Through her tears, she even caught herself humming the same lullaby.

She heard a chair creak, and Mateo came up behind her to hug them both. He kissed the top of her head as if she were the child now, rather than him. He'd grown up so much in the last few years, not least because of Elena.

"Hey," said Flo, with a suddenness that seemed almost comical given the circumstances. "Where's Elena?"

"She had to get out of the house," said Mateo. "It's her emotion magic. It rains when she's sad."

So that explained the restraint in the princess's manner all through this visit. She was being considerate, so as not to make it rain indoors, but everyone else's emotions had become too much for her at least.

Rafa looked out the window and saw the younger woman there, standing on the dry grass with her head bowed and her arms wrapped around her middle. Her red dress had turned a deep, rich cerulean. A literal rain cloud was swirling above her head.

"Get out there." She stood up and gave Mateo a light shove between the shoulder blades. "Tell her to let it rain. My garden needs watering anyway. And take Flo here back to the palace, she needs a better place to sleep than your old backpack."

"Will you be okay by yourself, Mamá? I can stay here tonight if you like."

"Bless you, mijo, I'll be all right. I've got a sewing project to work on anyway. I'm going to need some peace and quiet."

The project she had in mind was Alacazar's old robes. Mateo might be grown up now, but he had a different body type and probably never would fill them out. It was only sensible to alter them so that they would fit. He'd been living in his grandfather's shadow for much too long.

"Just as long as you come back home for Sunday dinner."

"Of course I will," said Mateo.

"Can I come too?" Flo asked brightly. "I like dinner. I like all the meals of the day, actually."

"Anytime, chiquita." Rafa stroked the pink fringe between the alpacamundi's ears, surprising herself with a short laugh.

Mateo hugged his mother one more time, accepted a tin of cookies for the road (which Flo promptly tried to open, so that he had to carry her tucked under his arm) and walked out into the garden where Elena stood. It was already raining around her, the cloud billowing out like a thunderstorm in the making.

He drew his tamborita and cast a shield spell. The rain curved out and around them like a bubble, keeping them dry. Flo looked around with wide-eyed wonder on her furry face. Elena drew Mateo into a hug, carefully, so as not to crush the little creature between them.

Elena's dress blushed pink as a budding rose. The rain stopped.

Rafa closed the window shutters with a quiet sigh.