For a second, the smile she's wearing stops being vacant, turns genuine. But then -- wait, how does she know who that is? She doesn't know an Alloran. She's Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and she's very happy in the castle, and she has no plans to run off and leave her very important job.
(They hadn't shown her Frozen 2, believing it might give her ideas about independence.)
The confusion makes her brows furrow, makes her try to frown, and she realizes then that she can't. She has to keep smiling. She has to smile for the guests, for the children, for the managers.
"I can't," Elsa whispers, smiling. She cannot get that look off her face.
As she realizes this, neurons are firing in her brain; memories are trying to resurface. Elsa knows she knows him from somewhere, but -- but when had they met? What does he mean, he's expected to not be identifiable? She doesn't know who he is, and yet she does -- she knows he's big, and blue, and....a horse? Is that possible?
What she does remember is a feeling: a feeling of being understood, a worry soothed. Elsa trusts that this....being....is here to help.
"Help," she asks, through her smile. The child in front of her looks up and tilts their head in six-year-old confusion.
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For a second, the smile she's wearing stops being vacant, turns genuine. But then -- wait, how does she know who that is? She doesn't know an Alloran. She's Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and she's very happy in the castle, and she has no plans to run off and leave her very important job.
(They hadn't shown her Frozen 2, believing it might give her ideas about independence.)
The confusion makes her brows furrow, makes her try to frown, and she realizes then that she can't. She has to keep smiling. She has to smile for the guests, for the children, for the managers.
"I can't," Elsa whispers, smiling. She cannot get that look off her face.
As she realizes this, neurons are firing in her brain; memories are trying to resurface. Elsa knows she knows him from somewhere, but -- but when had they met? What does he mean, he's expected to not be identifiable? She doesn't know who he is, and yet she does -- she knows he's big, and blue, and....a horse? Is that possible?
What she does remember is a feeling: a feeling of being understood, a worry soothed. Elsa trusts that this....being....is here to help.
"Help," she asks, through her smile. The child in front of her looks up and tilts their head in six-year-old confusion.