Clover Gold, also known as Lyrica, the golden harp, gathered her coat around her tightly as she slammed the door of her gold colored pick-up and bolted for the entrance to her uncle's shop. The bell jingled merrily as she threw the door open, quite a contrast to the raging wind outside.
"Who is it now?" came the Scottish-accented voice of her uncle, who sounded more than a little bit peeved at the disturbance.
"I'm Sorry." Clover said wryly shaking dry leaves out of her wind-blown pixie cut. "I wasn't aware of the rule that says don't enter your own uncle's shop in the middle of a storm. Where's Belle?"
Mr. Gold appeared from the back room, a small chipped tea cup in his hand.
"Oh it's you, Clover." He said, sounding a shade surprised. "Did you need something Dearie?"
Clover hung up her coat. Unlike the thousands of times Mr. Gold used the term 'dearie' sarcastically, he always used it a term of endearment and affection with his niece.
"No. Where's Belle?"
"Are you hungry?"
Clover froze, turning around slowly to give her uncle the evil eye.
"Uncle, where's Belle?" She asked slowly. Mr. Gold looked vaguely uncomfortable with the situation.
"I don't understand how it's any of your concern, my dear." He replied. Clover tapped one combat-boot-clad foot with deliberate slowness, her arms folded as she scrutinized her uncle's face with her gold-rimmed eyes.
"Oh, I don't know." She drawled casually, placing one foot directly in front of the other as she approached her guardian, staring him down. "A mysterious windstorm shows up out of absolutely nowhere. Mary Margaret and David, or should I say Snow White and Prince Charming flag me down on my way home to warn me to stay inside, so, naturally I come here to find out if you know anything, which I strongly believe you do, and now I find Belle gone. So, there are several reasons why I need to know, and you're going to tell me." Clover waggled her fingers in the air as if plucking the strings of a harp, a harp that was quickly regaining its powers of persuasion and hypnotism, powers that could control anyone, including the Dark One. Mr. Gold's eyes narrowed at the carelessly veiled threat.
"Don't you use that tone with me, missy." He warned. "And don't you worry, the storm will soon pass."
Clover raised an eyebrow.
"Then would you care to explain to me what on earth this is?" She whipped out her cell phone, scrolling through picture after picture of a wraith in a long tattered robe. Mr. Gold merely raised an amused eyebrow at the photos.
"So, it hasn't found her yet. What a pity."
Clover almost dropped the phone.
"The wraith hasn't found who yet, Uncle? What did you do?"
Clover's uncle merely chuckled.
"The wraith is merely here to do its job, Clover. A job that yours truly called it here to complete. I told you that I would keep you and Belle safe, and I have every intention of doing so."
Clover took a step back as she realized what her uncle had done.
"Regina." She breathed, the wind outside howling in her ears. Suddenly her face darkened in anger.
"And what, pray tell, happened to Belle? This off-handed scheme didn't get run by her, did it? And after she found out, she left, didn't she?"
Clover couldn't help but let her shoulders slump in disappointment as her uncle cringed ever so slightly at the accusation. Clover shook her head in disbelief, trembling slightly as she backed toward the door.
"I don't believe this." She murmured, eyes wide. "You drove her off again!"
Mr. Gold stepped forward.
"Clover, wait-!"
"No!" Clover cut her uncle off in fury. Her hands clenched into trembling fists. "No I won't sit here and wait after you drove her off AGAIN! Well consider yourself experienced in that area, because now you've succeeded in driving me off as well!"
"Clover! Stay here! It's not safe out there!"
Clover ignored her uncle as she stormed out to her truck and locked herself inside.
"Do you hear me young lady?! Get back in here this instant!"
Clover shot her uncle one last withering glance before she sped off with one thought in her mind.
Find Belle.