A/N: Just a rambling piece of fluff because I still love this ridiculous couple.

Prompt – Scars

In a sea of rumpled bed sheets Hawke and Genesis lay peacefully wrapped in each other's arms. Hawke was resting her head on his shoulder and partially draped across his chest. Satisfied and sore in the most delicious way possible, she was idly tracing patterns over lithe muscle and enjoying the play of light from the late afternoon sun across his skin. She didn't care that they were being lazy and decadent, this was their honeymoon and she wasn't getting up for anything less than a full scale Blight.

Even then she might not be convinced.

Genesis was no less relaxed, languidly nuzzling into her hair and looking perfectly content. With his hand hooked under her knee he had dragged her leg across himself, letting her lie pressed up against him. His hand was currently tracing her thigh (he always had been a leg man), and he was taking great pleasure in the study of her contours. Her response was an oh-so-relaxed purr and to lightly nuzzle into his neck.

His hand trailed along the three parallel scars on the outside of her leg, travelling diagonally from her mid-thigh to the back of her hip. She had many scars and he loved every single one of them. She wore them with pride; the marks of a life lived so very close to the edge. Some were deep and jagged and would adorn her body till the day she died. These he traced reverently, knowing they were testament to fights where death's spectre had lurked all too closely. Others were light and would fade with time, trophies that had been earned and deserved to be displayed.

The three long lines on her outer left hip were his favourite, if only for the joy he had tracing them in the heat of passion and the needy mewling sounds she made when he kissed them.

"Where did you get these?" he asked lazily, tracing them gently.

"Hmm, my first dragon." she said into his neck. "It was… a valuable learning experience." He could feel her smile against his skin and hear it in her voice.

"You got your ass kicked." he said dryly.

"You didn't see the other guy." she said with a little chuckle. "I did kill it in the end, but that was only because a poorly aimed blast spell accidentally started a landslide."

He shook his head fondly. It was so typically Hawke-ish. His hand massaged her thigh softly, imagining her facing down a giant lizard so haphazardly.

"What about you? Where did you get this?" she asked, trailing a finger over a short scar on his side.

"That was from a ninja, during the early days in Wutai. I didn't know they poisoned their blades until I found the wound blistering angrily."

Hawke made a displeased murmur. He knew she was something of an expert when it came to poisons and would object to his suffering.

"Fortunately, the mako in my system burned out the toxins before it could do any serious damage. We made sure all of our medics were well stocked with antidotes after that anyway."

Hawke hummed her approval.

His hand left her leg and explored elsewhere. He ran a finger over a thin line on her upper back.

"What's this one?" He didn't like how close it was to her vital organs but it wasn't deep enough to have been too dangerous.

"That is how I know that assassins take an open back dress as an invitation." she said, yawning absently. "It was at some fancy noble's dinner party. I think it may have been the first Antivan Crow sent after me, before they realised they'd need to try a lot harder."

They went back and forth recounting the stories written upon their bodies, exploring each other with an unhurried calm that made the moment so intimate.

"That was from a Materia mishap."

"A stray crossbow bolt, years ago."

"A bite from the Leviathan Summon."

"Trying to disarm a bear trap while in a rush." Hawke said, looking down at the hand Genesis was inspecting. The scars were usually hidden beneath her gauntlet, the diagonal marks running across her fingers. She was lucky she had escaped with her hand still intact. He kissed the scar tissue.

"And this one?" he asked, running his hand over a thick jagged scar on her abdomen, right beneath her ribcage. His other hand found the accompanying scar on her back that marked what he accurately guessed to be an exit wound. His instincts said a sword had pierced right through her torso.

"The Arishok. I was skewered on his sword and thrown across the room. I don't remember much of the fight after that, though they tell me I won." Her own hand was pressed against the long since healed wound on her front, her mind adrift in memories. He held her tighter, trying to block out the image of his precious wife being tossed about like a rag doll.

"You're incredibly lucky his blade didn't hit any vital organs."

"Not lucky enough apparently. I don't know what but something important got grazed. I was bedridden for months; they didn't think I'd make it."

Genesis nuzzled into her hair again and let his hands travel to her waist, content to just hold her. Some part of him objected to her facing danger so boldly and wanted to keep her at home, where she would want for nothing and he could always protect her. The rest of him knew that such a thing would only tear them apart. Hawke was too much like her namesake, a vicious bird of prey swooping down upon her enemies one moment and soaring high above the world the next. That was simply who she was, the woman he loved so very dearly. Hers were not wings to be clipped. Instead they would soar together, braving the world and guarding each other's backs.

Her hand had trailed up to his shoulder, lightly caressing muscle until she felt the rough scar tissue there. That one didn't need an explanation; both knew exactly where it had come from and what it meant. The wound he had gotten through his own folly that day in the training room, the wound that had refused to heal. As much as it was the last evidence of his degradation, it was also a token from the day he met her. For all its significance it was small and fainter then most, a testimony to Hawke's healing power. Now it was the only mark of a struggle endured and overcome.

She turned her head and kissed it, gently running her lips over the scar tissue. Genesis smiled and stretched, feeling his body stir under the lithe woman draped over him. She nipped softly at his skin before soothing it with her tongue. His hands returned to her thighs and he pulled her over him fully.

Hawke continued her ministrations, straddling him as she kissed her way up his neck. She reached his lips and explored his mouth, sensual and unhurried, content to slowly stoke the fires into blazing embers that would burn forever. Her tongue slid across his and she felt his hands gliding up to her hips, holding her firmly over his growing hardness. His mouth moved to her earlobe, her neck, her collar bone, lavishing attention upon the hollow at her throat. He smiled wickedly at the soft crooning noises she made, as always enthralled by her responses. He shifted his thigh against her and revelled in the arousing purr she gave.

The phone on the bed side table started ringing. Genesis gave a groan of acute frustration and she fixed the offending device with a cutting glare.

Then she leaned down and pulled the plug out of the wall.