a/n: mildly analogous to the short fic "Bail Organa and the No Good, Very Bad Day"


La Lune de Miel
Quatre

"Salt Water"


The private beaches that sprawled over the southern expanses of Corellia were uncharted territory for him – strange that this was his home planet, and there was so much of it that he had never really discovered, so much of it he knew of only in wistful imaginings, the bitter, forlorn fantasies of a half-starved, scoundrel street kid who kept a dirty, stolen knife in his boot, nicked food from bazaar vendors, and constantly ran afoul of the Coronet City police.

He felt no – resentment, being where he was now, being a man now who had access to this privilege, who had a chalet up in the wealthiest mountain vistas of the planet – no resentment, because he'd had no control over the circumstances that had raised him and disenfranchised him, he felt only grudging awe at how his life had turned out – gratitude, disbelief – and a small bit of smug satisfaction.

When she had asked if there were quiet, hidden beaches on Corellia, he'd automatically answered with a native command of the planet's geography – Yeah, real swanky, near the coast, takes about half a day to get to the equator tropics, hour speeder ride out to the exclusive resorts. She tilted her head at him, her lips pursed, and then left her breakfast for the bag she had in the middle of the open, airy sitting room, taking something from it, and turning to him with a scrap of red nylon hanging from her index finger –

Want to go?

Han arched a brow at her, asked about the top – she feigned innocence – What top, Han? – and he hadn't taken any convincing – for one night, she booked a little waterfront, breezy beach house hidden away from the world, and off they went.

He hadn't ever thought of Leia as a seafaring wildling; the only sort of sand he ever remembered seeing her around was the dry harsh terrain of Tatooine, and he didn't think she'd ever mentioned beaches in her childhood on Alderaan – yet he had barely thrown the speeder into park, letting it idle for a moment at the foot of the dune their cottage was on, before she had leapt off of the back of it, her bare feet sinking into the fields of pearl-white sand, and run for the edge of the water.

Shielding his eyes with his hand, amused, Han had watched as she dashed into the frothy shallows, hair flying wild around her, storming the ocean up to her thighs and twirling around. He'd killed the engine, turned on the seat of the speeder – and just watched her – watched her – he tried to think of a word for what she was doing, and when it occurred to him, simple and absurd, he laughed out loud –

He watched her play; she was playing.

Leia was playing in the ocean, as if she didn't have the weight of a galaxy on her shoulders.

His laugh must have carried; she whipped around, standing there, swaying just slightly as the water tumbled into her knees and wearing those red bikini bottoms and a demure, cotton v-neck blouse that draped off one shoulder.

She raised her hand and beckoned to him, shading her own eyes with her hand – the sun was brutal, but the ocean breeze was a cool relief, and Han pulled one leg up onto the speeder, and ran a few fingers around the edge of his boot, loosening it to pull off – he could sense, rather than hear, her laughing at him – why the hell had he worn so much to the beach –

Tugging off his boots, he watched her immerse herself in the ocean, plunging deeper, testing the wet sand and the depths of the water; he sat up straighter as she took a swan dive forward, and came up moments later, smoothing her hair back, her shirt clinging to her like fine silk – and he swallowed hard –

Pale white shirt, water, bright, burning sun – it was a sacred combination, and he paused with a boot in his hands, staring at her for a long time.

"Han!"

He slipped his shirt over his head and dropped down off the speeder, hanging the shirt over his shoulder and reaching down to unfasten his belt and holster rig, walking down the beach to the water's edge and dropping it as he went – he blinked heavily in the sun, lethargic already, pausing at the water's edge to reach down and roll up his trousers.

He was doused with a handful of water as he straightened up, and Leia was in front of him, bending slightly at the waist poised to flick another handful of water at him. She met him with a sparkling, mischievous grin – she splashed him with the ocean anyway, and he crossed his arms.

Leia leapt forward, nearly landing on his toes, and she reached down to grasp the waist of his pants, twisting her hands in his waistband, pursing her lips in a look of mock disapproval.

"You ought to have worn something you can swim in," she murmured.

He arched his eyebrows. He reached out and touched her sides, his warm hands moving over her ribs, plucking at the see-through material of her shirt – he brushed a palm over her breast, making no response to her chastisement – sure, he could have, but all clothes dried eventually –

Leia leaned close and pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his chest, lingering there for a moment, and then she unhooked her fingers from his trousers, gently grabbed the hem of her blouse, and lifted it rather unceremoniously over her head.

Han opened his mouth in surprise, his breath catching in his throat – on instinct, he looked around them, startled, as if looking for gawking eyes – he remembered they were alone, and when he looked back, she gave him a devilish wink, and turned, storming into the water again.

He grinned, his smirk proud and incredulous – gaze focused on his wife's bare back as she tackled the waves – he crossed his arms again, shaking his head – he half-thought she had been joking, when she said she didn't bring a top – this was uninhibited, this was untamed –

He watched Leia turn to face a wave, tumble into it, submerge herself in water – and he leaned forward, waiting for her to resurface, glittering with sun and seawater –

"Leia," he shouted, his voice cracking over the thundering water suddenly – she should have burst right back up.

He lunged forward, sloshing through water and thick, muddy sand, dragging his hands through the water when he was waist deep, somewhere around where he'd seen her go under – fingers grasped his tightly, yanked at him so he almost went down in the water, and she came up laughing, water streaming down her hair and off her shoulders.

"Leia," he growled, as she fell forward against his chest, grabbing his arms tightly and leaning into him.

"I had to coax you in," she drawled, tilting her head up to pucker her lips at him innocently. "Were you rescuing me?" she simpered, resting her hand against his heart – it skipped a few beats, and she gave him a sympathetic look – she hadn't meant to really scare him.

Han put his hand on top of her head and pretended to dunk her back under, and Leia shrieked and twisted away, bending down to splash water at him again – he started to chase her, only to be startled when she screamed again and leapt completely out of the water, clutching him around the neck and damn near crawling up to his shoulders.

Stumbling, Han caught her, arms around her waist, barely avoiding losing his footing and thrusting them both into the rocking waves – he looked torn between laughter and disbelief, his eyes wide.

"What the – "

Her nails scraped softly at his neck, her cheeks flushed.

"Something slithery touched my foot," she gasped, bursting into hoarse laughter and leaning forward.

She tucked her head against his neck, and then she straightened up, turning her nose into his temple, pressing her lips and eyes against his warm hair – he tilted his head curiously as she buried her face in it, nuzzling her face into his hair –

"Your Worship," he said, his voice muffled in her neck. "What the hell're you doing?"

She took a deep breath, murmuring into his hair –

"Salt water in my eyes," she whispered. "Your hair is dry."

"'M not a towel," he protested indignantly.

She crossed her ankles behind his back, holding her body tight to his, and her breasts, naked and wet, slipped against his chest temptingly as she shifted to look at him, her lips parted – pink and vibrant – and her eyes alight and vivid.

He tightened one arm around her waist, slid the other up her back to her hair, tangling his fingers in it. She leaned forward and kissed him – not soft and slow, but hard and passionate, and she tasted like the heady heat of the sun, and ocean salt as thick and sweet as molasses – Han stumbled, trying to kiss her and balance her, and she broke away, gasping and laughing.

He tilted his head, and started to say something – and then a startled look crossed his face as he side-stepped a little, loosening his grip; Leia screamed, her ankles slipping against his back, and Han lost his balance, tipping sideways into the water – both of them smacked into the intemperate ocean, submerged, and Han resurfaced just in time to see Leia be tackled by another wave.

"What," she howled, coughing salt water, "happened?"

Grinning, he stood and grabbed her - "Somethin' slithery touched my foot," he growled, swinging her up into his arms effortlessly, and Leia twisted onto her side, immediately letting out a harsh, exaggerated gasp of protest –

"The indignity," she insisted breathily. "This is – most indecorous – put me down - !"

"Who's indecorous?" Han retorted, his voice elevated over the sound of the crashing water. "Can't be me," he teased, "must be some half-naked princess – "

Leia playfully sank her teeth into his bicep and kicked her feet, and Han shied away from the seductive little bite, treading back to shallow waters and going down slowly onto his knees, dumping Leia into the sandy, mellow current underneath him.

She braced her hands up against his chest and tilted her head back, her shoulders trembling with silent laughter for a moment before the sound came and she started giggling. Han smirked and planted his knees on either side of her thighs, leaning down to kiss her – his kiss was soft, and slow, and salty as the waves that lapped at him, and when Leia gave a soft sigh, and a satisfied little moan, he pulled back a little, sliding an arm under her and cupping the back of her head in his palm.

He looked at her quizzically, water dripping out of his hair, down his nose – over his lips, and onto her, and his eyes drifted over her bare shoulders and chest, his heart rate increasing – what in Sith's name – what in the hell had he done to deserve this, to deserve her –

He swallowed hard, his eyes drifting back up to hers, and lingering – he tilted his head, his lips forming a silent swear in his native tongue – if the careless, rugged, thieving street kid from all those years ago knew that someday, he'd swim on these private Corellian beaches with a princess –

"Han," she whispered – he saw her lips moving before he heard her, before he finally heard her – "Han?"

He cleared his throat. He nudged her nose with his gently.

"Didn't know you loved the ocean so much, Sweetheart," he murmured, moving his lips close to her ear so she could hear him over the waves.

Leia sighed, her head falling back again.

"My mother," she said softly, "had a baby sister who drowned in the ocean – she was a fearless woman, but she was afraid of water," she told him, slow and steady. "The few times I got to experience the ocean," she trailed off, and looked back at him. "She was so scared, that I felt brave."

She started to sit up, and he sat back on his knees, watching her brace herself up on her elbows.

"It's forbidden," she said. "It's – magic."

Han nodded. He smiled at her, and she tossed her head, her hair misting water on him.

"You're giving me one of your looks, hotshot," she murmured.

He crawled forward and wrapped her up in his arms, rolling over to his back and pulling her on top of him. His fingertips roamed over her spine and brushed the sides of her breasts – he kissed her, and then sat up; Leia situated her legs so that she straddled his lap, facing him, and he pushed her hair back, tangling his hands in her hair again.

He started to say something, catching his breath in his throat.

"Never thought I'd be here," he said gruffly.

He furrowed his brow darkly, unsure if that made any sense at all – he didn't mean he never thought he'd be on this beach, though that was true – he just never thought that something like this - but Leia tilted her head at him, her eyes soft with understanding, and he knew she got it – she always did. He pulled her a little closer, and she interlaced her fingers at the nape of his neck, breathing out calmly.

"I never thought I'd be here," she retorted, with a slow, simple shrug.

It wasn't anything either of them could have imagined – a rebel princess leader, and a disgraced Imperial cadet, with a junkyard ship and a worn blaster to his name – and yet it worked so well that it was –

Leia smiled, her eyes glittering, laughed huskily, and leaned forward to kiss him, murmuring incoherently into his lips. Han wrapped his arms around her, dropping back down into the water and sound, pulling her down with him – he felt like drowning, not in the ocean, but in her.


Honeymoon


-alexandra