Scott shivers, pulling his white and gold cloak further around himself. His teeth chatter, his breath leaving visible puffs behind in the freezing air.

He hates this. The cold never used to bother him. He grew up in the mountains, for Aeor's sake! Why is he shaking?

Frost covers his face, tears frozen in place on his cheeks. There are chunks of snow in his cyan hair and his ivory wings are a complete wreck, covered entirely by ice. His slim frame trembles, and, despite his height and typically intimidating figure, he looks incredibly fragile, curled up on the floor hugging himself. Snow coats the ground and the occasional ice spikes surround him as a result of his messy emotions.

The graceful ruler of Rivendell, Sovereign Smajor, is gone, the mask of perfection dropped, and all that's left is Scott, vulnerable and afraid, his defenses stripped.

He chastises himself for being so weak.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to steady his breathing, but they fly open when a knock at the door sounds throughout the room.

He doesn't dare get up or make any noise, praying that the person will assume the cabin is abandoned and leave.

Of course, Aeor doesn't respond, like usual, and he can only hope that fate is on his side for once.

(Art by Doodlelist on Tumblr) (user is Jimmy)