One last dance (flower husbands)

Chapter 3

Scott was panicking.

There was ice everywhere and he didn't know how to get rid of it.

It was on the walls.

It was on the windows.

It was on his bed.

And there were even ice shards growing on his books.

His books!

It was an absolute disaster.

"No, no no!" Scott muttered quietly under his breath as he walked around his room. Trying not to get more worked up, trying not to make his panic any worse.

It all had started earlier this morning when the elf had woken up with half of his room already covered in ice. Scott was of the thought that he already had these new.... powers. For a lack of a better term, under control.

It now dawned on him that he was wrong.

Very wrong.

The door to his room opened and Scott's head shot up. He watched as one of the Keepers of the Archives appeared in the doorway. Their eyes widened as they took in the scene before them.

"Get out Astor," Scott said in a firm tone. Hoping he wouldn't come over as rude but he needed the other to leave. "And keep quiet about this."

"Of course, my King." The white-haired elf replied before turning around and softly closing the door behind him. Leaving Scott once again alone.

The King slowly ran his hands through his hair. Trying to come up with some way to fix this.

These powers were a blessing from Aeor. If he couldn't control them like he thought he could Scott was afraid he might mess up.

No scratch that, he knew he would mess up.

Scott began to pace around his room again while his thoughts went crazy with scenarios of what could happen.

He tried to come up with ideas, anything that would prevent other people from getting hurt.

The only thing that came to Scott's mind was that he needed to leave.

If he went to a place where there was no one around, there was no way for anyone to get hurt.

Scott clasped his hands together when he felt them starting to shake. He dug his nails into his palms, hoping the shaking would stop. When that didn't happen, Scott let his hands fall back to his side.

For a while, he just stood there. Silently looking around his room, trying to come up with a plan that didn't involve him running away.

The silence was broken when one of the windows shattered due to the pressure from the ice growing on it.

Scott flinched and took a few steps to the other side of the room. He had not been remotely close to the window but the glass on the ground still scared him.

"I need to leave!" The King said in a firm tone. Trying to convince himself that it was the best thing he could do in this situation.

With a quick pace, Scott began to dig through his closet and cabinets to gather all the things he would need to safely travel to a remote location. To open some of the cabinets he had to pull harshly on them due to the ice that had sealed them shut.

When the elf had gathered everything he began to stuff it all in a bag he pulled from somewhere. The bag was quickly filled to the brim and Scott stared at it for a moment, contemplating if he was doing the right thing.

Scott decided it was.

He took off his golden crown and carefully placed it down on his nightstand.

There might come a time in the future when he would pick the crown up again and place it on his head. But for as long as he was a danger to his people he did not deserve it. He did not deserve the crown his father once wore and the many Kings of Rivendell before him.