A/N: Tumblr prompt: Anna is sick and Kristoff tries to make her feel better by singing to her. I went with the latter. Kristanna fluff with just a slight dash of angst, just to keep things interesting.
The worst part of being sick, Anna decided, was how it reduced her five senses to approximately one and a half.
Taste and smell? Gone. The sweet porridge Elsa had brought her for breakfast might as well have been gruel. Hearing? It felt as though someone had stuffed cotton in her ears, and everything sounded vaguely like it was underwater. That left sight and touch, but the latter was mostly taken up by the feel of sweaty sheets against her skin and the rough drag of a handkerchief against her chapped nose. So she wasn't speaking to touch right now. Not that she could hear herself if she did.
A muffled knock sounded at the door, and Anna groaned loudly in what she hoped was an invitation.
Kristoff appeared in the open doorway, still in his harvester gear, the few patches of visible skin she could see gleaming with sweat. "Hey, you," he said, taking off his hat and mittens and setting them down on the coffee table. "Feeling any better?"
Kristoff laughed and leaned over to kiss her extremely-mussed hair as she sprawled out facedown against her pillow. "You are such a baby when you're sick."
"You try being pleasant when you have the plague."
"You have a cold, Anna."
"A plague cold."
"Want me to take you to see my family? Maybe Grand-Pabbie has some herbs that'll shorten the course of this thing." He sat down beside her on the bed, rubbing her back in soothing circles.
"No, don't trouble yourself," Anna muttered against the pillow. "Just leave me here to die."
"Pretty sure I remember some guy telling me a few months back that I was stuck with you in sickness and in health, so no luck on that one."
Anna groaned again, turning over and flopping weakly against the mattress. "You weren't supposed to be listening," she grumbled. "You were supposed to be completely beside yourself with how beautiful I looked."
"Well, I mean, you definitely looked more… well, polished than you do now… hey!" He frowned as she lightly smacked him in the arm. "You still look beautiful. Honest."
"Really?" Anna asked hopefully, bringing her handkerchief to her nose and giving it a loud honk.
"Really," Kristoff said, not even flinching as he took the damp handkerchief from her, wiped her nose, and kissed her brow. "Though remind me to draw you a bath later."
Anna laughed, pulling him down to lie next to her. "Jerk. Why did I marry you again?"
"Bad luck? A thing for kinda smelly guys? Royal ice shortage?"
"My sister is the ice queen, remember?"
"Bad luck, then."
"Good luck," Anna said pointedly, snuggling up against his chest. "Sorry. I know I'm probably gross."
"You're fine. I just want you to feel better."
"You're so sweet."
"'Sweet'. See, now you're being gross."
She stuck her tongue out at him before tucking her head under his chin. He seemed warmer than usual, his arms settled tightly around her, one hand stroking her hair, and okay, sight and touch seemed perfectly adequate for now.
Anna's eyes grew distant as she remembered lying in a similar bed when she was little, very little, and her head hurt so terribly and everyone looked so frightened but no one would tell her why. They'd nearly lost her to the fever that season, she'd found out later, but all she remembered was the fearful faces by her bedside, and her mother's warm embrace as she'd held her close, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead and softly singing to her until she'd finally drifted off to sleep.
"Hey," Anna said quietly.
"Can you sing?"
"Sure," Kristoff said, shrugging lightly. "If I have to."
"No, I mean," Anna began, shifting in his embrace, "can you sing? To me? Now?"
He stared at her, silent and still for just a moment longer than necessary. "I, uh… I don't really sing in front of people."
"I'm not people. I'm your wife. And honestly, I can barely hear anything anyway, so it won't even matter if you're bad. Which I know you're not."
Kristoff was silent again for a long moment.
"Will it make you feel better?" he asked, frowning a little.
Anna turned her face in against his collar and closed her eyes. "Maybe," she said quietly. "I was just remembering how it did when my mom used to sing to me."
He was quiet, too quiet, for far too long, tightening his arms around her.
And then he began to sing, very quietly. She didn't recognize the words, but the cadence was familiar, and she could feel something old and comfortable in the melody.
When he finished, she squeezed his hand and gave him a grateful smile. "That was beautiful."
"Thanks," Kristoff said, blushing slightly. "I…" He faltered. "It's just… my mom used to sing that to me when I was little. My real mom, I mean. Before she…" He grew quiet, and pressed his cheek to her hair.
He didn't say more. She didn't ask.
She turned her head and pressed a firm, lingering kiss against his collarbone.
"You get better, okay?" Kristoff said, voice tight, eyes distant.
Anna turned in his arms and pulled him down to her, laying her cheek against his. "I promise."
"I love you."
They stayed that way for a long while, until Anna felt her eyelids growing heavy.
"Hey," Kristoff's voice quietly cut into her drowsy haze.
"Want me to teach you? The song, I mean. It's not too hard or too fancy or anything, I just thought that, you know, if you get sick again, not that I want you to get sick again or anything, but…"
Anna leaned up and kissed him, very softly. "I'd love to," she said, resting her forehead against his.
She stumbled terribly through the first verse, and her normally clear voice was hoarse and weak even to her own ears, and she was still down to one and a half senses, but with Kristoff's arms around her, his clear tenor soft and comforting at her ear, and the words to his lullaby on her lips as she slowly drifted off to sleep, being sick didn't seem quite as miserable as it had before.