Elsa suddenly found herself wondering if trusting this person was a good idea. After all, she hadn't even gotten a name from him. He had simply showed up and offered to help. What was she supposed to do but accept?

So she had provided him with a document that indicated that whatever he did tonight, he did on royal business. In hindsight that seemed a fairly poor decision, but if he were to be caught fighting by city guards they would certainly detain him and that would, as he put it "Let the leads go cold"

She had also given him a bag of one hundred coin. Not a huge amount, but to the right people it was a small fortune. He had requested it specifically, and when Elsa had asked him what good it would do him he had said "Sometimes money speaks better than even the most eloquent person." and she found herself agreeing.

And now she was watching him walk out towards the front gates, with a bag of her money, and a seal of her approval.

Yes. This had to have been a truly horrible idea. She had half a mind to call down to the guards to shut the gates and retrieve the things she had given him. But he was the only one thus far to offer any real help, all the other people had just tried to comfort her and set her at ease instead of actually doing anything to help. He was the first person to even suggest taking any sort of action against those who had attacked her.

She had seen him kill people. He had done it as if it came as a second nature. It was strange, to think that had he not been there than she would not be standing here now. And now she had seen people die. It was a simple fact, but one she wasn't sure she had fully processed. She was no stranger to death of course, being a queen left her dealing with the consequences of people dying all the time, deciding what happened to their estate if they didn't leave a will, sometimes even attending funerals herself if the person who died had been important or close to her. But she had never actually seen anyone die. She had no idea it could be so… fast. One moment those men had been charging at her, intent on her death. And then…

She looked down again and saw the man just exiting the gates. She wondered what his plan was, if he had one, or whether he really intended to help her at all. He had seemed so sincere, though. People couldn't just lie like that, being a Queen she had to deal with a lot of people trying to lie to her, and she had gotten very good at knowing when she was being lied to. He hadn't given any indication of lying, and if he was that good of a liar, Elsa couldn't help but feel he had earned the gold at least.

He was crossing the bridge now, as the sun was setting early as it always did in winter. Soon the night sky would be filled with the thin streamers of the northern lights and the streets would be lit dimly with small flames in the lamp posts that lined the streets. As he reached the main city he turned a corner, and was gone. She sighed, fed up of being anxious and nervous. She turned to the door and strode out of her bedroom, saying to herself

"I need a drink"

Nathan walked quietly through the empty streets. He was wandering in search of the bar called the "Frothy Brew". Once he got there he would ask around about Hassan, the man named in the note from "FishFace". He still had a hard time accepting that that was a name that someone had chosen and thought to be a good name. After he got information on Hassan he would decide his next move. One side of his jacket felt heavy from the hefty bag of gold he had requested, and he had his document from the queen in an inside pocket of his top-layer grey cloth coat.

Close to his bag of money he had his bandoleer of six bone charms. All of them gave off a strange, otherworldly heat. They seemed almost to vibrate with some kind of internal energy that made most people uncomfortable. Each charm had a certain affect. The effects of these charms could vary widely, as he had one which allowed him to walk on slippery surfaces unhindered, and another to fortify his focus so that he didn't tire from using his powers as quickly as he would otherwise. One of the ones he felt would be more useful tonight was the charm that allowed him to walk without leaving footprints, or any other sort of mark on the ground. One of the more minor ones that he preferred to always have was one he bought from a street side vendor a long time ago. It was one of the first he had gotten, now that he thought about it, and it was one the woman had called an "unnerving target" charm. Its effect was fairly humorous, when he was in a good position to make it work. It made anyone trying to hit him with a ranged weapon of any kind simply lose their nerve to make the shot just before they did, generally resulting in a miss by a huge degree. He didn't know how the charm did this to everyone, but it was one of the few he always had with him. His last charm was a slightly more universal use as it allowed a simple drink of water to clear his mind, thus allowing him to use his powers again if he got too unfocused or ran out of energy.

His powers all drew from a kind of central pool of energy. The amount of raw power he was able to draw from this pool was dependent on how focused he was on pulling this power. His small powers, like blink, used a small amount of energy, not enough to really cause any dent in the pool. So as long as he didn't do it rapidly he could blink indefinitely. His larger powers, however, drew quite a bit of power from the central pool. He had one power that would drain almost all his power, but he rarely even had the chance to use it. It allowed him to turn his body, his entire being, into a shadow. It was brief, barely a second, but for that one second he was a shadow. He had only found this power useful for escaping from bonds or for reaching almost anywhere, but it was effective enough to let him slip from any chains or cage. This power had saved his skin several timed before.

The sun fell quickly as he wandered through the streets, looking for the Frothy Brew. Nathan spent at least half an hour looking though empty streets before he finally heard the unmistakable sound of drunk people. Chanting, shouting, and slurred exchanges. He turned a few corners, and found himself bathed in the warm light of the bar he was looking for.

The sign to the Frothy Brew was a large affair. It hung off of a large pole and looked like it was adorned with real frozen fizz from a drink. He couldn't help but be impressed by the effect. He pushed the heavy set door open and stepped inside the seedy bar room, shaking snow off his boots.

Everyone in the bar turned and looked at him. They were the typical people one would expect to see in a seedy place like this. Most of them were big burly men who looked like they worked pretty tough manual labor. All of them, with the exception of the bartender, were turned and glaring at him as if his very presence was an insult.

He walked in and took a seat on a barstool. The bar tender walked over to him and said in a gruff voice "What'll it be?" as the drunks on the other side of the bar returned to their drink.

Nathan pulled out the paper with the tabs on it, saying "how about a little info?"

He placed the paper down on the bar and pointed to the name Hassan "Who would this fellow be?"

The barman picked a glass from behind the bar and a cloth from his belt and started wiping the glass out as he looked at the paper and grunted, then said "Just some guy. Comes 'round here all the time. Why you askin'?"

Nathan picked the paper back up and replaced it in a pocket, saying "He did something stupid. I believe he got paid to do it. I want to know by who and why." He leaned forward and said "Any ideas?"

The barman looked Nathan up and down, snorted, and said "Haven't the foggiest."

Nathan leaned back, stretching his back and said "Look" than leaned back in even closer than before

"he's dead." The barman looked at him, totally unfazed. Nathan pulled the tabs out of the pocket again, looked at it, and gave a low whistle. "Fifty coin? Must've come here often. As I'm sure we both know collecting money from dead men is hard." The barman raised an eyebrow at this, but kept listening. Nathan continued "So I'm sure that you can appreciate this… rare opportunity of someone offering to pay a dead man's debt."

The barman gave an annoyed sigh, then said "I don't know who it was, but they looked rich."

Nathan smiled slightly than said "Any… weird looks? Missing limbs? Horrible scars?"

The barman glared daggers at him and asked "Look, do you got the fifty or not?"

Nathan smiled confidently and pulled the cloth bag from a deep pocket and dropped it onto the table. The clink of coins was unmistakable by even the drunkest of man, as a few in the group who hadn't been laughing, shouting, or chugging looked over at the bag with interest. Nathan ignored them and asked the barman "How about a hundred?"

The barman stopped looking annoyed now, and instead looked very interested. Now it was his turn to lean forward. He smiled politely, saying "Ah, you know how to drive a bargan, boy." As he took the bag and placed it under the bar greedily. "Now, if I had to guess as to who this rich boy was, I'd have to say he reminds me an awful lot of that Pratchett feller'." Nathan gave a questioning look, and the barman clarified "You know, the big ol' hot shot… what do they call 'em?" he paused for a moment "entrepreneurs." He finished looking happy with himself.

Nathan gave the man a big smile. All this information was very useful, but he needed more. He asked "What kind of entrepreneur? What's his business?"

The barman laughed now and said "Ah, new round' here in Arendelle are you? He's been big recently. Got some money somewhere and started himself a boomin' fishing business." He leaned in closer and whispered, pointing at the group of drunks "them's all workers for him down at the docks and on ships. Loading crew, I believe."

Now Nathan was getting to the good stuff. The personal information was what he needed. He was confident that this man, Pratchett, was the one who paid the three would-be assassins, but he needed to know why. What would motivate a successful business man to kill the Queen? He doubted that the barman would know, but there was one more question he had that would lead him to the next step of the investigation. "And where might this Pratchett live, exactly?"

The barman now shuffled uncomfortably. "Why you wantin' to know?"

Nathan could see that he didn't want to tell him this, but he needed to know this. He was about to offer the barman more money, but before he could one of the drunks grabbed his shoulder and pulled him off the stool sending him tumbling to the floor.

The man who threw him was the biggest of the crew and looked to be in charge. He stood above Nathan in a menacing manor, leering at him from dim, sunken looking eyes. He spoke, his voice was deep and slurred heavily with drink. "Whachu wann with da boss, eh?" he turned to the rest of the men "less teach thish guy a lessson!"

The barman spoke up now saying "No, no I won't have you fighting in here. Take it to the streets or I'll beat the lot of ya!"

The leader of the men turned to him now, and said "Gladerly." With what was likely supposed to be a small nod, but ended up looking like he was trying to give himself a concussion. Nathan pulled himself to his feet only to be pushed out the door halfway sending him tumbling into the snow. He gritted his teeth, thinking that if they kept this up than they wouldn't have to worry about their hangovers tomorrow.

The leader followed Nathan out the door and lifted him off the ground by the collar of his jacket. Nathan felt his feet leave the ground and knew he had to break this hold. He whipped his head forwards, smashing his forehead into the bridge of the man's nose, which started gushing blood. The man howled in pain and dropped Nathan. Nathan didn't want to reveal his powers just yet, and he still needed information, so he decided to stay in the thick of things and see if something happened.

He landed nimbly on his feet and saw two more drunks coming towards him arms outstretched. He jumped back as one lunged at him, trying to grab him, but the man simply fell short and hit the street, vomiting as he went. The second man kept up his approach, but slipped in the pool of vomit his friend had spewed and actually went head over heels backwards. The back of his skull hit the cobbled street with a loud thumping sound and he stopped moving. A third man, who had been nursing the leader's nose, drew a small pocketknife and began advancing. Nathan saw the man's grip on the knife was very loose so he simply jumped forwards and grabbed he man's hand, twisting it until he dropped the knife.

Then Nathan heard someone a ways down the street yell "Halt, in the name of the law!" and a man, illuminated by the light of a large lantern in his hand, started running towards them.

Nathan saw his opportunity and focused. The man struggling in his arms, the bloodied leader, the guard running right for them, and even the few snowflakes falling from the sky froze in place. Nathan glanced around quickly but saw no alleyways or places he could be out of sight. Then he looked up. The flat roof of the bar was just within blinking range, and he doubted the drunk in his hold could break free on his own. He pulsed his energy, and threw the man forward. He tripped on a loose tile and tumbled over.

Nathan leapt on him and put a hand over his mouth, whispering "shout and I'll cut your throat out." The drunk struggled for a moment than seemed to process what Nathan had just said, stopping his thrashing and looking at Nathan with fear in his eyes.

Nathan uncovered his mouth and stepped back. The drunk stayed on the ground and continued to look fearfully at Nathan, who smiled and spread his arms saying "there we go, see? No one's dead. And that will remain the case…" he leaned down and sat on his heels looming over the man "if you tell me where Pratchett lives."

The man whimpered slightly and pushed himself along the roof away from Nathan, who stood back up and followed him as he went. "It really is that simple. Tell me and I'll let you go."

The man stopped crawling away and narrowed his eyes. "Just like that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just like that." Was Nathans reply. He offered he man a hand. He hesitated, than took it. Nathan pulled him to his feet than waved a hand at the rooftops of the rest of the city "were is it?"

The man gulped than pointed to a manor on the outskirts of the city near the walls. The building was too far off the get any real detail on, but Nathan knew where his next step would take him.

Nathan grabbed the man's shoulder and blinked back down to the street. Once there he let him go and blinked back to the rooftop before the man could turn to face him. Nathan than looked back towards Pratchett's house. There was a dim light coming from the top floor windows, and he thought he could see someone's silhouette in one of the windows. He was planning to have a few words with that silhouette.

authors notes:

hey guys, thanks for reading this far. remember to leave a review so that i can improve.

Thanks!