A/N: Writer's block is hitting me hard, so this one's a fairly old repost. As I was writing it, I kept thinking about agency and voice and all the expectations that Anna must have had as a princess versus her loud/outgoing/super-energetic personality, and this is the fic that resulted.

(Please note that there are mentions of sexual activity in this one — nothing explicit at all, but if you'd prefer to avoid the merest suggestion, I'd skip this one.)

"Sound and Fury"

Anna is not a quiet woman.

Kristoff knows this as well as anyone, has long since ceased to be surprised by it, but still the thought crosses his mind as she gasps lightly against his lips and cants up towards him. She's vocal, open, demonstrative, in this as in everything. Anna is a talkative whirlwind, a tiny, chattering dynamo with a bright, sweet voice and a seemingly personal vendetta against silence.

Even now, she hums at the back of her throat beneath him, low and content, pressing her tiny hands against his shoulders as he curves his around her hips. Kristoff is more than accustomed to silence, had lived contentedly alongside it for years, but then Anna had crashed into his world, all noisy, flailing awkwardness, and filled in all of the empty, silent spaces he hadn't even known existed.

He remembers the first time they'd made love, not too long before, how he'd held her tightly in his arms afterwards while she cried noisily and apologized, telling him that, no, he hadn't hurt her, and no, nothing was wrong, it was just so beautiful and oh, Kristoff, it was everything.

He'd laughed and kissed her, slow and lingering. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about whether or not I did a good job," he'd said, pulling back and shooting her a teasing grin. "We'll be lucky if you didn't set off an avalanche — you're a loud one, feistypants."

Anna had flushed as far down as he could see (which was quite pleasantly far) and awkwardly tugged away from him, pulling the rumpled sheet around herself and peeking owlishly over the hem. "Is that bad?" she'd asked. "I mean, I don't know if this is really the type of thing where it's good or bad but… well, I mean, it was good, but with the… noise and all and… seriously, an avalanche? Can that happen?"

He hadn't meant to laugh, honestly he hadn't, but he'd wound up doubled over and gasping for breath, while Anna sat beside him, arms crossed and a frown etched onto her lovely features as she asked him what was so funny.

He'd managed to compose himself long enough to kiss her again, pulling her back into his arms with little resistance. "You. Pretty much always."

Anna had grumbled a bit before snuggling into his embrace, sighing contentedly. Kristoff had been content to enjoy the silence then, there in the lazy, fulfilled warmth of afterglow, his true love soft and pliant in his arms… but Anna apparently had other plans.

"So… um… are you supposed to be quiet during… well, you know?"

"Well… I mean, some people are. I guess. I'm not exactly an expert on the subject or anything."

"Really? I thought you did great."

"Uh… well…" Kristoff's blush had very quickly grown to match Anna's. "Thank you. Um… you too. You know."

Anna had laughed and leaned up to kiss his neck. "I was just so worried about just being all… ridiculous, you know?" She'd stretched out alongside him, curving up against his side and sliding one leg between his. "My whole life I was always being told to be a princess: stand up straight, be graceful and poised…"

"You were supposed to be graceful? Did they just kind of give up on teaching you that on day one?" He'd grunted as she lightly smacked him in the chest.

"Anyway," Anna had continued, "princesses are just supposed to be kind of… restrained. Proper. And definitely quiet. And I know I'm not the best at that stuff, not that I guess you're really supposed to be any of those things with this, but…" She'd frowned slightly. "Was it… well, good? I mean, was I…?" She'd looked up at him helplessly, smiling a little.

She'd looked so small and vulnerable in that moment, and he'd tightened his arm around her shoulders protectively. "You were wonderful. Honest."

"Because, I mean…" She'd looked away from him, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I mean, you have to understand — princesses are always supposed to be seen, not heard, and no one was ever around to listen to me anyway. Basically…" She'd shrugged and smiled at him, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. "I haven't always been the best at being a princess. I was always really, really great at being Anna, but no one really seemed to count that quite as much. Anna was just kind of too loud and there and not really enough for…"

Kristoff had kissed her then, hard, turning her to press her back against the bed, one hand tangled in her hair. When he'd pulled away, she'd stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Anna's more than enough," he'd said pointedly. "She's kind of crazy and definitely loud and has this weird tendency to trip over invisible objects, but she's always enough. Always."

Tears had sprung to the corners of her eyes, and she'd surged forward, wrapping herself around him and pulling him down for a long, lingering kiss that deepened just enough to leave them both slightly breathless and warm when she pulled away.

"Besides," Kristoff had said with a slight grin, toying with the hem of the sheet and slowly inching it down, "princesses are kind of boring anyway."

"I'm still a princess, you know," Anna had replied, failing to suppress her own smile and blushing as she helped him pull the sheet aside.

"Mm-hm," he'd said, lightly tugging at her hair and dipping her head back to kiss her exposed collarbone.

"And I—mm—still have certain… oh… behaviors expected of me…"

"Right," he'd said, lightly trailing the fingers of one hand along the soft skin of her thigh.

"Are you listening to me, Kristoff?"

He'd stopped then, staring down at her, eyes inscrutable.

"Always," he'd said finally.

Anna had looked at him for a long moment before taking one of his hands in hers and squeezing it tightly, bringing it to her lips. "I love you," she'd said quietly, and he could hear the smile in her words behind their clasped hands.

"Love you too, loudmouth."

She'd held his hand just a little too long. "So, um…" she'd begun awkwardly, "is that avalanche thing real?"


"You know…" She'd flushed. "About me… being loud during… you know… I mean…"

"…seriously, Anna."

"Okay, okay! I was just checking because, um, there's something I, um, kind of want you to try and I totally understand if you don't want to or think it's weird or gross or something but I just wanted to make sure about the whole avalanche thing because I don't know what'll happen and…"

It'd taken several kisses to stop that particular ramble, and several more to extract her actual request, but he'd been rather pleased by it when he did.

"Lie back," he'd instructed her, squeezing her hand before lightly kissing her sternum, down to her ribcage and bellybutton. "And Anna?"

"Yes?" she'd asked, slightly breathless already.

"Don't hold back."

Judging by the sounds she made at the first touch of his mouth on her, he'd quickly judged that she hadn't.

Here in the present, she's every bit as loud as those first stolen moments, even though they've done this before and since, enough though he can map every hollow and mark against her skin as well as any mountain path, knows the sloping curves and indentations of her body as well as he knows his own name. She rises up to meet him, falls, and she cries and keens and calls out his name as she arches her back and he lightly nips at her bared throat. She's wanton and wild and so very Anna that it's almost too much for him to bear, how much he loves this crazy, loud, impossible girl.

It's a still mountain night, and her voice will echo down the slopes, towards the valley, leveled with passion and open desire, but it is her voice, unfettered and full, and he'll always be there to hear it, in this as in everything.

When Anna cries out his name, he kisses her, full and deep, and whispers hers.