"Leia," Han complained, standing at the edge of the water with his arms crossed. "This is stupid."
"It is not stupid," Leia corrected from the water, arms spreading in big circles to keep herself afloat. The place she'd chosen for them was a secluded cove about a mile's hike away from their resort on Synjax. It wasn't very large, but it was deep, which exactly fit her needs. "It's therapeutic."
"Lounging on the beach is therapeutic," Han countered, making no move to step towards the attached ladder.
"Han."
"Leia."
"Do you really not want to do this?" Leia asked, her voice softer, head tilted lightly to the side. The last thing she wanted to do was push him into something he truly wasn't ready for, but she also knew Han and his tendency to lean into the comfortable. "If it really is something you don't want to do, we don't have to." Even she had felt some initial trepidation at getting back into the water, though the clear, blue, paradise of this ocean compared to the last they were in made that initial plummet much easier.
Han took a moment to scan the water, the muscles in his arms twitching. His jaw was tense, staring down at the gently moving sea like it was an enemy. It wasn't cold (or as cold), it wasn't covered in a layer of ice, and likely didn't have some hidden Empire something-or-another shooting laser beams of death through it's currents. It was already looking much more promising than the last bit of water he swam in.
So why was he not fucking moving?
Leia patiently hung onto the rungs of the ladder, giving him a soft, sweet look. She likely knew more of what was happening in his head than he did, which is probably why she drug him out here in the first place. They were sequestered away, no other people around to hear him flounder with excuses, recoil at lapping wave.
"Han?" Leia's voice was faint, soft, snapping him out of his stare-down with the salt water. "I'm right here with you, I won't let anything happen to you."
He scoffed before he could stop himself, using his momentary embarrassment to propel his feet across the craggily rock to the ladder. Leia moved, just enough to give him room as he jerkily descended, momentarily freezing as the water came up to his waist.
Han wouldn't describe it as temperate, but the water wasn't cold beyond it's initial shock. It swirled around his legs, the current soft but present. He'd never had a problem swimming before the carbonite, and certainly hadn't expected it to be one of the after-effects of escaping it. Still, his heart hammered against his chest in a way he wasn't proud to admit, his knuckles white with effort to maintain their grip.
Leia's warm hand at his back surprised him, but he eventually leaned into the touch, letting it guide him the last few rungs down the ladder and fully into the water.
It was deep, even his toes couldn't scrape the bottom, but his body took over before his brain could overthink it, easily treading water to keep his upper body afloat. He turned to see Leia's smile, small tendrils of hair that escaped her braid floated in the warm wind.
"Alright?" she asked, with no trace of a patronizing tone. She saw the tight lines of his body, the way he'd still yet to relax his jaw, the pulse she could see bouncing at his temple. He gave her a quick, stern nod, not quite able to meet her eye. She was careful not to hang on him, to only lightly drag her hand from the small of his back to his chest, placing no pressure, just a soft reminder that he wasn't alone. "Remember, I need you, Hotshot. Are you with me?"
Had Han not been actively fighting down a rising wave of terror, he might have ashamed by leaning so hard into her words. He never really believed in words of affirmation, what good were words in a world where so much was promised and so little was actually delivered? But Leia's words — Leia's words had always been different. There wasn't a thing that came out of her mouth that she didn't mean, never a promise she didn't hold herself to, even when it meant sacrifice.
I need you.
Leia's words aboard that cracking, death-trap of a submarine only days ago, repeated now, fueled something in him. Something more important than fear. He looked down and spied the ring he bought her, both stones shining in the afternoon light, and felt something in his chest lighten. Slowly, he nodded his head, finally finding her gaze.
Soft. Strong. Willful, yet gentle. He found himself melting into it.
The hand on his chest flit over to his arm, intertwining their fingers with a light squeeze.
"Ready?" she asked, leaving room for him to deny, for him to let her know that this was far enough — they'd continue again another day. Instead, she found his determined stare on her, his eyes looking as green as they ever did, reflecting the water. He squeezed her hand, nodding slightly.
"Ready."
They both took a deep breath, then Leia guided them under the surface of the water.
Han's senses went into overdrive, his heartbeat in his ears, his fingers twitching in Leia's grasp. His eyes instinctually opened, seeing a blurry outline of his wife floating in front of him, clear enough to just see the upward tilt of her lips, the encouraging roundness of her cheeks, pink with pride. Her hair floated behind her, her braid lifting like on an invisible wind, the tendrils around her face twirling and curling in the current.
And suddenly, instead of fear, Han felt a bolt of love utterly rack his system. No, not love — it was need.
She may need him, but he needs her just as badly.
Without a second thought, Han pulled Leia in close and pressed their mouths together. A flurry of bubbles left her nose, tickling his upper lip with her laughter, and he couldn't help but smile into it. He kissed her like she was the oxygen he needed to breathe, and she kissed him like he was the last sip of water she needed on a dying desert planet.
Need, it was a funny thing.
She could love him all she wanted. Plenty of women had loved Han in his life. But need? That was different.
His hands slipped off the feeble joystick of the submersible as he looked right into her eyes.
Need was real.
— The Princess and the Scoundrel by Beth Revis
