They say to be loved is to be changed. Lucy supposes that's true enough.
The person she is now is different from the one she was before she met Natsu, and while the change was small, happening slowly over time, it was still there, evident in everything she did. In a way, it reminds her of the ship of Theseus, each part of her replaced with something new—something better—until the person she is now is unrecognisable from the one she used to be.
It's most evident in her personality, her confidence, her bravery, her strength, but as she gazes at her reflection, she sees it in her body too. Getting hurt is just part of being a guild wizard, especially when you're up in the action like Lucy is. Some injuries heal and fade away, leaving you with little more than a story to show for it, but some stick, a reminder of what left it to last on the skin longer than it may last on the mind.
A lot of Lucy's permanent scars come from a time before Wendy. She can heal the scars of most wounds, but preexisting scars are a little harder to mend. If it's just cosmetic, most people don't bother anyway. There's nothing too egregious left on her body from that time in her life; it's mostly small wounds, flitters of scars on her arms, abdomen, and legs, like butterflies in the spring breeze. A lot of them can be attributed to her relative inexperience at the time. Much of the things she was dragged into upon just joining Fairy Tail were incredibly out of her league—daresay even too dangerous for someone with as much experience as Gray or Natsu. She was an inexperienced wizard plunged into the deep end, and to be injured in that state is nothing short of inevitable.
At the time, some scars felt like it was the end of the world, but now Lucy understands there's more to life than looking like a doll with pristine, porcelain skin. Part of her prefers it this way; her scars like words etched into her skin, telling the stories of love, bravery, and friendship.
She has a lot of stories to tell.
If she had to guess, she would suppose she has more burn scars than any other kind. It's not necessarily in the nature of being a guild wizard, but it is in the nature of being Natsu's best friend.
Though she may have a higher heat tolerance than most people, that doesn't mean she's flame retardant like he is. Her skin still reacts to fire the way any normal persons would, for better or for worse, and that means that she has more scars born from the flames than most.
The faint remains of burn scars decorate her chest and forearms from when she held onto Natsu that one day in Guiltina, his flames licking her body as her skin seared and sizzled against his own. They're not the most pleasant sight, but they're a part of her now. She's seen Natsu's glances and watched him avert his gaze whenever she notices him looking. She knows what he's thinking without him ever having to say anything.
If you could go back and change it, would you have done anything different?
No, she wouldn't have. A scar on the body was nothing to a scar on the heart, and she knows she wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she had let him lose himself like that. Vain little Lucky Lucy Heartfilia may have had differing thoughts—maybe she would have hated the scars, hated the way they tainted her pretty skin, but Lucy Heartfilia of Fairy Tail doesn't share the sentiment.
To be loved is to be changed.
To love is to change, too.
There's another scar on her left thigh, also from Natsu, but the story is a lot less dramatic. He had spilled a boiling cup of noodles on her leg when he wasn't watching where he was going. The pain was far too excruciating for it to be the result of dinner gone wrong, but it was by no means the worst pain she had been through. Natsu had been insanely apologetic after the fact—following her around the house to make sure she was okay, waiting on her every need, offering to let her punch him in the face. While that last offer had at least been a little tempting, she had let it pass. It wasn't what she needed to soothe the pain. His love was enough.
Her arms, her legs, her torso are littered with stories like that, big and small in both their marks and meaning. She has scars from tousles in the guild hall, given to her by the people she loves the most; she has scars from the front lines and the battlefield, a testament to her desire to protect the very same people who had already marked his skin and body in superficial ways.
To be loved is to be changed, and by gods, she has changed.
Just because she's grown to accept her scars doesn't mean that sometimes her vanity doesn't get the better of her. She wouldn't trade her love or experiences for the world, but Lucy is not immune to insecurity sometimes. Sometimes she catches a glimpse of normal girls or sees a photo of herself in the before times, free of marring and scars. It makes her wonder if her scars make her ugly, undesirable. The desire for perfect skin and a perfect body lingers from her time spent amongst the upper class. Scars were undignified, and smooth, clean, unmarked skin was a sign of wealth and privilege that deserved to be flaunted. A heiress doesn't need to be out on the front lines, but she is no longer an heiress, and she takes pride in protecting her friends, her family. If scars are the price she has to pay for that, then it is more than worth it.
On days when she worries that her scars make her look ugly, she tries to look outside of herself. She doesn't think that way of her friends' bodies or scars, so why should she treat herself that way? She yearns to hold the same apathy surrounding their scars as they do, but it's one that comes with a lifetime of being a wizard that she doesn't quite have yet, so she simply has to wait for time to heal it.
Natsu, on the contrary, seems to take pride in his scars. He says they make him look cool, and Lucy is inclined to agree. She thinks that, in a way, his scars make him look rather handsome.
His biggest scar lays in a cross on his left abdomen. It hasn't really faded over time; he hasn't asked Wendy to heal it, he doesn't try to hide it beneath fabric or makeup. He wears it like a trophy or a reminder. When he sheds his shirt, it is left on display for all to see. Now, as he lays shirtless on their bed next to her, her eyes fixate on it, her fingertips resting on his skin mere inches away from it.
"Does it ever hurt?" She asks.
She doesn't elaborate on her words because it doesn't occur to her that she should. Her mind is so fixated on his scar in that moment that her words basically topple out of her mouth without much thought. It's more like the thought that she accidentally spoke out loud.
"Do yours hurt?"
Sometimes when they're new and unhealed, they can be a little tender, but once they're healed over, it's no different from a guild mark resting on her skin and becoming a part of her.
"No, not really," she replies.
"Then no, it doesn't."
She glances up at him for a moment, trying to decipher the meaning. She doesn't know if he's trying to get her to understand by drawing back to her own experience with scarring or if he was testing the waters to see how she might react if he gave her an honest answer. He doesn't flinch or recoil when she rests her hand atop it, so she takes his words at face value.
Her finger trails lightly around the edges, tracing the shape the wound has left behind on his body. It's like a star with its four points, glimmering and gleaming against the tanned sky of his abdomen.
Without giving it much thought, she leans over and places her lips gently against the mark. It's not to heal it—she has no need or intention of kissing it better—but something compels her to do it anyway. A thank you, maybe, a showing of appreciation for all the things he does for her, the sacrifices he's made, for all the times he's thrown himself in harm's way just to make sure she was safe.
It doesn't occur to her just how low the scar is until she's pulled away, but by that point, it's too late, and her face is crossed with a soft flush. When she looks up at his face, she notices they match in their crimson shade across their cheeks. It's not anything new for them, so there's no need to be embarrassed, but the intimacy of it gets her nervous, like they're young and inexperienced lovers all over again. A sheepish laugh escapes her lips, and it makes Natsu grin wide, even through his hot red blush. She averts her gaze in slight embarrassment, but the corners of her lips quirk up slightly in a smile.
Without raising her gaze, Lucy buries her face in the crook of his neck, and he quickly catches on, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight against his chest. Her nose brushes up against the scar on his neck, and she can feel him squirm a little. His neck is sensitive regardless of the scarring, and his scarf protects it most of the time, but it turns out he quite likes when she presses her lips against it, so she takes this moment to leave a soft kiss against the long-left scar.
In gentle retaliation, his hand snakes beneath the hem of her sleep shirt to rest on her lower back, where he knows she gets tingles when he lightly grazes his fingertips over her skin. His hands have explored her skin so many times that he has memorised the placement of all her scars, and she, in turn, can recognise when his fingers lazily trail across them. She can feel him trace across them, connecting each like constellations on her back. It tickles just a little, but she's not about to give him the satisfaction of that, so she simply holds her breath and enjoys the feeling of his soft affections.
In tender moments like this, all of the pain and insecurity she feels for her scars seems to dissipate and dissolve into nothing. She's not sure if she can say it makes everything that marred her body worth it, but she can say that it no longer lays burden on her mind—not when she feels Natsu's comforting embrace around her.
Perhaps in a different time to a different Lucy, it wouldn't have been worth it, but to this one, it is more than enough.
They say to be loved is to be changed, and Lucy knows that's true enough.
