A/N: Quick disclaimer, I don't own Once Upon a Time, just my character.

Well I should say my adaptation of this character, since knowing this show it's most likely that she'll be included in the next episode and whatnot. And even if they do that, I'm just going to continue writing my adaptation because this is something I truly enjoyed writing and want to continue on with it.

So to conclude, I own nothing but my adaptation of this character, on to the story.

The Dark Palace was never truly a place of unending noise or the overwhelming clatter of living occupants, in fact it was mostly a place of silence, but it was anything but serene. Tension was always in the air, tasted on the tongue by nearly every guard and servant that had ever been under the orders of the castle's ruler. No one dared to make a noise against the silence when it fell at midnight, whether it is a sub conscious fear of nature for angering the alpha, or natural instinct of not wanting their heads removed instantly and mercilessly from their shoulders.

Whichever reason it might be, the Dark Palace was normally always silent as the grave during the midnight. So it must have been somewhat of a surprise that almost completely on time, midnight promptly and not one second off, that there was suddenly commotion that seemed to echo through every corridor and room of the palace. Some servants unintentionally jumped in reaction to the noise during their usual duties, but then would quickly return to concentrating on their work, not wanting to think much less see what was going on to cause such a ruckus so late at night. Others would give a pointed look to one another, but didn't speak a word. The facial expressions would say most than what they would ever dare to say.

That being, someone had dared to go against their Queen, and whoever that was, had not only their respect but also their sympathy.

During these silent reactions, the noise never ceased. The loudest was sounds of the soon to be punished, now prisoner yelling and fighting the guards that must have caught them in whatever crime that they may or may not have been committing. The other sound, one most servants of the castle was aware of and had always dreaded since the very first day they had arrived here, especially when it was coming towards them, was the rhythm of the guards boots, marching past and dragging the struggling, yelling prisoner soon to be punished person with them by their under arms. It didn't take long to drag this person to their punishment, some servants being as good as the others and not looking, but those that did, were a little surprised in what they saw.

"Your Majesty, we found this sneaking through the kitchens, sampling the best of the cook's porridge," One of the guards, who hadn't been restraining the apparent thief at the time, said coolly as their Queen turned from her mirror, and looked instead to the criminal they had caught. An eyebrow was raised at the appearance of the thief that had been caught, and the guards took that as a cue to throw the thief to the ground. A cry of pain left the thief as they landed on their arm, but otherwise their yelling and cursing had ceased after being dragged into the Queen's presence, suddenly the prisoner was silent.

A look was given by the Queen to the three guards, enough to tell them that they would no longer be necessary. They left as ordered, but not without roughly pulling the prisoner back to their feet by the shackles that had been placed over their wrists, which didn't happen without difficulty. The prisoner remained silent after the guards had left, rubbing their wrists as the shackles were a little too tight for their liking, and certainly landing on their wrists didn't help. The Queen however, wasn't much in the silent mood as this captured thief, especially since the usual midnight silence of the Dark Palace was beyond saving by this point.

"Well, you certainly don't have the appearance of a thief," That was true, and was mostly the reason that any of the servants that had dared to look upon the captured prisoner were a little surprised. See the thief was a rather gangly teenage girl, her face mostly hidden by the large curly yet frizzed blonde mess that one could describe as hair on a good day. Her clothes weren't all that terrible as a usually desperate thief's would be (since a thief would only ever be very desperate to even attempt steal from this Queen in any way), but weren't that extravagant either, then again the clothes were probably stolen before this point, so there was no point in judging this young thief in her clothing.

After a few seconds of silence in which it was apparent that the frizz haired girl was going to need more prompting to answer back, the Queen continued on, walking slowly back to her mirror as she spoke, the reflection turning once again back to the man that had made such a terrible mistake as to be stuck with her forever as her servant, though whether he was actually acknowledging that yet was still up for debate. The captured thief watched her new warden quietly still, surprisingly not all that shocked at the sudden appearance of a man's face in this mirror on the other side of the room instead of the Queen's reflection, though that could just be the girl hiding her shock very well.

"Tell me, there must have been more in your sights than just my morning breakfast, what was it you were after?"

The girl's silence was finally broken, and spoke up. Her tone was a little lighter than it should have been in her circumstances.

"I was going for something rather rare and expensive, and I think I would have managed it if I wasn't so hungry,"

She was very open in her motivations at least more than any other thief that had been caught red handed in this castle, she even managed to look a little sheepish as the end of her statement, looking down to glare at the stomach that she must have felt betrayed her to her captors. The Queen seemed somewhat pleased by this thief's honesty, since it would be more time wasting and rather inefficient to torture the truth out of this person as to why they were here. At least, that was what the girl thought what with what the Queen replied with.

"You are being very truthful for a red handed thief,"

The shackles were starting to sting from the tightness of how they had been applied, and despite the slight wincing of pain from that, the thief tried to keep her expression relaxed as she replied once again, her hand sub consciously rubbing at the agitated skin. The Queen meanwhile, had taken to drinking some wine or having a whole different conversation with the man in the mirror that the thief didn't bother to listen to since she figured it rather unimportant, since it didn't involve her all that much. Basically the thief was being considered a minor interest for that time, not that she minded of course since if she was the Queen, she would ignore her to.

"Being condemned to death makes an honest speaker of anyone,"

There was a moment of silence after she had spoken, and the thief was left to wonder if she had actually managed to offend the Queen accidentally, or if the option of executing her was now on the table since she had mentioned it. The thief hoped that wasn't the case since it was worse enough being caught, but dying mainly because she had actually been the one to accidentally mention it would only make it more embarrassing. The pause passed as it always does before the Queen finally turned back to the Thief, taking her seriously as a major conversation for the first time since she had entered the room via escort by the guards.

"What is your name?"

Another pause came and went.

"Goldilocks,"

The thief was thankful for the frizzy hair, so the Queen couldn't see how much she was actually uncomfortably embarrassed by her name, looking down at her scuffed shoes instead of at the Queen's reaction. The blonde was a little surprised then, when the woman walked to a rather comfortable looking chair, and invited the girl to sit next to her, and of course the shackled one knew better than to go against any invitation the Queen gave her, and so sat next to her as gestured. And yet despite any comfort that the chair might have given the thief in any other situation, it did nothing for her. In fact, she felt more like a fly that had gotten free from one trap, and flown straight into a spider's web.

"Well Goldilocks, I believe an agreement can be made here instead of your death,"

"Are you going to let me go?"

"Perhaps…"

"Absolutely not,"

A groan of irritation came from the recipient of this answer, her hands slamming against the prison bars that were in between them in agitated annoyance before walking back to the small bed that was bolted to the wall, glaring back to the other of the conversation, and continued to try and plead their case to be freed from the temporary holding cell that they had been placed into for some time by this point, attempting to hold back in the annoyance that they were feeling, thought of course that was betrayed by the rhythmic tapping of her foot on the concrete ground.

"Oh come on Sheriff, just let me out before my father gets here at least. It'll be our little secret, I'll even be a responsible law abiding citizen from now on," The Sheriff gave the teenager on the other side of bars a look, and she followed up with a lame-

"Well, a few days at least and I think that's all I can promise."

The Sheriff shook his head, trying not to look as amused as he felt.

"You know the rules kid. You're a minor so you have to wait here for your parent to pick you up, promises regardless."

The teenager slouched back against the brick wall of the cell, feeling the uneven rocks and cement that created the wall digging slightly into her back. Her feet had stopped tapping, and instead she took to twirling one blonde curled hair through her fingers for a time, spending her attention to glaring her anger out at the ceiling above her head. After some time of the silent glaring and ignoring any more attempts that the Sherriff gave to motivate her to make better choices, or at least that was what he was saying, she wasn't really listening; the silent waiting was broken by the sound of someone entering the police headquarters.

Quickly sitting up, the teenager thinking that it was her parent coming to pick her up and no doubt be annoyed in the fact that she had to be broken out again. But instead was greeted by the sight of the only other frequent visitor of the holding cells, so much so that they had their own preferred cell, which was actually as far away as possible from her own, Leroy. He looked a little drunk and wobbling on his feet, but then again the teenager wasn't about to judge on appearances when she was in jail as well, so she tried a friendlier approach than the usual.

"Oh good morning dear Leroy, have a nice night?"

Okay, she might have said it in more of an old English accent than she was suppose to, but then again she found it hilarious so, nothing wrong there in her opinion. Leroy didn't seem to agree, and instead retaliated to her comment with his usual grumpy retorts half mumbled through an obviously hang over induced haze. This of course, only made the teenager smile that much wider, since it meant she was bothering him, and she had been looking for entertainment since her offer was shot down by the Sheriff for an early release.

"Waiting for daddy to bail you out again little brat? Or are you actually going to jail this time?"

She only grinned.

"Don't try and make me feel bad about my actions and reputation Leroy, it'd be a bit hypocritical don't ya think?"

But he didn't rise to the bait like other times, and instead allowed himself to be lead to a jail cell on the other side of the room, and the teenager was left back to her boredom once again. At least for a small while as she sat up a little and looked to see if the Sheriff was still there. Relieved to see that he had gone in the back rooms for a little while instead of watching her like a hawk, the teen's hand slyly moved to her coat pocket and pulled out the cell phone that was meant to be confiscated until her parent came to pick her up, flicking through some texts that she had sent to the few friends she had, letting the world of technology take her in as she waited.

"Isn't that against the rules dearie?"

Of course, he always happened whenever she wasn't expecting him to turn up. The teenager looked up for the first time in a while from the glowing screen of her phone back to what could be considered a legal guardian, mostly to just make sure he was actually standing there. And she wasn't disappointed, as there was Mr. Gold in his entire suit wearing splendor, as if he needed it every day to remind the people of Storybrooke that he owned them both financially and almost emotionally. It might have been that sort of cold air that he gave off, as if barely anything could truly affect that nearly every adult in this town barely thought him human. She wasn't bothered by that though, since she sort of had that same opinion of him, since he was a rather ruthless businessman. Still, he was better than having nothing at all and she wasn't too much of a self indulged teenager of her age to not to see that at least.

She still didn't call Mr. Gold father though, not to his face anyway.

"Rules are for people outside of jail cells Sir,"

She always dragged out the sir, always because it made her smile, and she knew somewhere where he wasn't able to show it, it bothered him. And that was worth nearly every blank expression and slight smirk that she had ever received from him. The teenager sat up from her bunk, and eventually got to her feet, thankful in a way that she wasn't going to admit that this boredom parade was finally going to end. Not a moment later the Sheriff reentered the room, and the teenager quickly shoved the phone back into her jacket pocket, her hand brushing back down to the baggy jeans that she loved wearing since they hid the fact that she was very skinny, in fact frighteningly so.

"Lydia Gold,"

The now named teenager saluted from the other side of the bars, satirically standing to attention as the Sheriff unlocked the cell and let her out. As she spent a moment to stretch her legs, Lydia sent a quick smirk back to Leroy, who was still stuck behind bars, who reacted with a glare and not exactly polite hand gesture. After a moment of stretching and collecting a few objects of her's (the Sheriff not as surprised as he use to be that she had managed to hold onto her phone while in the cell for the night), both she and her parent were lead into the Sheriff's office, where Lydia was expecting the usual talk of how she should be better behaved and follow the rules or else she was going to go down a bad road and so on and so forth.

"If this behavior continues, and by that I mean one more offence, and it won't be a day in a holding cell anymore Lydia,"

That didn't sound good; in fact that was the exact opposite of anything good whatsoever. The curly blonde's eyes widened a little bit, the usual frosty but often calmed navy blue lightening a little to a frightened cerulean blue. And of all the worry she was starting to get in the pit of her stomach, she got the feeling that if she had turned to the side, she would see no reaction from the person she was supposed to be calling a legal guardian. She knew he didn't really care, but it would be nice if he showed a little reaction. The Sheriff continued on through the moment of her being stunned to silence.

"One more incident from your daughter Mr. Gold, and it doesn't even have to be as effective and disruptive as this time, and it will be Juvenile Detention, possibly in another part of the state since we don't exactly have one in Storybrooke or in any other town close to us."

Lydia couldn't help it; she looked quickly to see what his reaction was, whether it was simple curiosity or the want to feel as though it bothered him somehow. What she got was certainly not what her low expectations were waiting for. He looked very annoyed, and not just at her or the Sheriff, jus in general really. Mr. Gold leaned forward in his seat, and the Sheriff was next to notice the sudden attention that he seemed to finally be giving to his daughter's behavioral issues. The meeting seemed to end quickly from the moment that Mr. Gold started talking, and every syllable was exactly what he never sounded like while she was growing up. He sounded almost… caring.

It was weird.

"We won't have to worry about legal jargon and issues like that then, since the behavioral incidents are going to stop, effective today. Isn't that right Lydia?"

The teenager just looked back to him, a little gob smacked since he never spoke up during these meetings. Thinking her silence a good reply, he got to his feet and bid the Sheriff goodbye after promising to pay her bail at a later date, and just like that they were out of the police department and back onto the streets of Storybrooke. Lydia remained silent a little more into their apparent walk home, looking back at her parent with a mix of confusion and a great deal of just shock. After some time in the walk, in which some of the other residents of the town were also surprised to see that the teenager was dead silent, since her release from the holding cells would usually result in her yelling for celebration and the need to do something else that would put her right back there.

"What a nice walk this is, I should stun you into silence more often,"

Finally that seemed to get a reaction out of her as she stopped in mid step, Mr. Gold looking back to her as Lydia seemed to finally find her words again. The first question that came to mind was thankfully the one that was the most logical and needed an answer the most. Lydia didn't mean to sound as confrontational as she was in that moment; nevertheless that was how she came out and that was just how he would have to deal with it and answer it. At least, she was expecting an answer anyway, she never really knew with him.

"Since when do you care in the slightest about my behavioral problems, much less me in general?"

"And how did you get arrested this time?"

Of course, no answers, only rebuttal questions that she was expected to answer to because the world is just unfair. Well, that and the fact that she found it be a really great story that she wanted to tell someone about, and Ruby wasn't there to hear it at the time, it might as well be Mr. Gold, better than nobody at least. And perhaps she sounded a little too enthusiastic about her story or something because she was managing to get a small smirk out of him. There was a pang in her chest as she remembered, because of course she did, she only ever seemed to have her memories now if nothing else, how hard she use to work to have that half smirk.

"Okay, but this was totally not my idea and-"

Several moments and a story later they were at the front door of the Mr. Gold's vintage shop, which was possibly the only reason that she still stuck around Storybrooke instead of going somewhere more interesting, like Disneyland just to start off the list. This shop was almost her hobby in a way, except that she completely adored it to no end. Everything in there seemed like from another world, filled with fantasy and a wonder she use to think would die with her growing up, but it never did. Perhaps it was the fact that he gave her shifts in the shop as a job, since she dropped out of high school not long after she turned fifteen that she bothered to stay living with him.

It wasn't until they reached the door and the end of the rather interesting story of what she called 'car surfing on the main street', that she realized her question never got the answer, and instead he had mislead her to talking about herself, which unfortunately worked more often than her confidence would allow her to admit in any other occasion. So as they walked into the shop, the familiar and lovely smell of the shop calming her from her original anger that she felt a teenager should have. But that still didn't stop her from bringing it up again.

"So, as asked before and unlike last time won't be ignored for another admittedly awesome story, why do you suddenly care whether or not my behavior is far from normal and puts me in a criminal light?"

Mr. Gold moved behind the main desk of the shop, looking back at her with the same blank expression than he seemed to always wear whenever she asked him a serious question. Lydia suppressed the humorous memory of her asking him how human reproduction worked, especially since she already knew that, she just wanted to see what his plain expression would turn into at the mention of it. And he certainly didn't disappoint that day. The teenager shook her curled/frizzed hair a slight bit, pushing back the memories that made her smile as she tried to remember that she was confused and slightly angry at him.

After a few moments of a starting contest in which he wasn't going to open on why that was, whether it be the fact that he was too proud to say it or for whatever reason. That of course, really annoyed the teenager to no end. He was always a stone wall when it came to personal questions, especially whenever she asked about other family or just his past in general. So, deciding that she wanted to get him back, well and the pure coincidence with what she had just remembered, Lydia decided to mention what was possibly the only card she was able to deal in a conversation between the two of them that would make him break the stone wall. Even if it was just to make her stop talking altogether.

"Well, since there isn't much else to talk about, I have been meaning to resume that educational discussion about the female body and how once a-"

The stone wall broke as Mr. Gold looked slightly uncomfortable and held his hands up to sign her to just stop, effective immediately.

"Ah, Thank you but we both know now that that conversation isn't necessary any longer, since you know more about that subject than you probably should at your age,"

Lydia raised an annoyed eyebrow back to her legal guardian.

"I'm seventeen,"

"No you're not,"

Recognizing after he had spoken that he was trying to manipulate the conversation away again from what she wanted to know. Lydia straightened from her comfortable slouched position against the glass case of the desk, and crossed her arms, trying to look as though she was starting to be as serious as she really felt. But then again Lydia wasn't as good at it as he was, as he returned the action, moving back from his comfortable stance a more defensive one as she answered back. Perhaps she was pushing the issue a little too much, but it was too interesting an action he had done for her not to get an explanation out of it.

"Yeah I am, and you're changing the subject, again,"

More silence, but then again periods of quiet like this were not unusual between them as she had grown up. The teenager looked back at what his reaction might be, but as always she was left in mystery since his expression never betrayed him, unlike her of course. Lydia was pretty sure that even at that moment her face was showing nearly every emotion she was feeling at that moment, probably right down to the slight uncomfortable sense that she had at that moment since her shoulders were feeling a little stiff, the holding cell's beds weren't well known for being comfortable.

The silence ended, with quite the unexpected result.

"You're grounded Lydia,"

Well that was one way to break the silence, and left even more quiet behind that statement. The worst part was probably how serious she now knew he was being, since he was calling her by her first name instead of the usual nickname he gave most people. But apart from that, what was more unusual was the fact that this had never happened before this point, which could probably be a good sign into how she had the current history of being a disruptive influence. Mr. Gold, had never cared enough to even punish her most of the time for her actions, this was a genuine and rather surprising first, so it was no wonder that Lydia was a little shocked.

"W-what?"

He continued on, laying down the rules while he still had time to get the words through and for her to accept the situation. The rules were basically not that much of an issue, at least not until the last point that really started to worry her as reality made it clear that this was actually happening. He was actually being somewhat close to a parent, and punishing her for her actions. And if she were going to admit it to herself, because she was never going to say it out loud for the life of her, she found it somewhat a pity that it took until she was seventeen before something finally happened.

"Curfew is eight thirty, and no later than that. You'll still have your shifts in the shop but no leaving for lunch breaks at the diner, and I'll have your phone thanks,"

A hand was expectantly held out for the cell phone to be placed into, the expression on his face still being rather blank, but he was being serious. Lydia agonized for a moment, really not wanting to give the piece of technology to him, especially since there was some text history in there that he probably wasn't going to like, since it wasn't exactly just her girl friends that she texted at times. Eventually though, and also remembering that thankfully there was a password code so there was a chance he wouldn't get into it, the teenager eventually relented and handed the phone over, but didn't stop in talking back against this sudden punishment that she had been dealt with.

"T-this is so unfair, you've never grounded me before, for anything. I got into a fight once and broke a window with a shovel, and your reaction after being told by the principal was to ask me if I had a future in Construction Work,"

As amusing as that story was to her, it certainly did seem to remind them both, even if it was in the slightest way for either of them, that she was more than just slightly out of control in her behavior recently. Breaking a window with a shovel? She never did stuff like that when she was younger; in fact she was almost the perfect straight student, at least until she was thirteen. Lydia remembered that first time she acted out, and had expected a major reaction from him, yelling at the most, a glare at the least. The teenager also remembered how surprised she had been at the time when she got nothing back from him, nothing at all.

So she tried harder, going further and further to just get something from him that was more than just a blank expression, but she hadn't ever been successful. Now she was close to Juvie, so close she could already feel the cage ready to drop down on her. Certainly she didn't want to go to that place, and Lydia knew that she practically had no one else to blame but herself for where she could be heading, since she could have stopped at any moment, but kept pushing, because she wanted something form him that really shouldn't have been so hard to get and wouldn't be from any other parent.

"There's a first time for everything dearie, unless of course you disagree with any of these rules?"

"Well-"

"You don't particularly need those shifts after all,"

"…Never mind,"

Lydia relented again, deciding that whatever reason he had for being more restrictive was for him to know and for her to find out at a later date, possibly when she wasn't grounded anymore. After caving in to his new rules, after all she adored this shop and nearly every shift she got to have, the overly curly haired teenager walked back to the other side of the shop, looking through the odds and ends that seemed to change with every day that passed. Making sure that she looked with her eyes instead of her hands, remembering how much Mr. Gold hated it when she touched something rare or expensive or both. Eventually though she moved to the back of the shop where she usually worked, cataloging the items that apparently weren't to be sold and placing them away.

"Just off to collect the rent, and don't bother trying to sneak out,"

Mr. Gold called out from across the shop before the teenager heard the familiar tinkling of the small bell door, meaning of course that he had left. Lydia sighed deeply at the work that was ahead of her, since new trinkets and vintage objects seemed to appear nearly every minute when she wasn't expecting it. Tying the large frizzy/curled mass of blonde hair into a ponytail, Lydia started digging through the objects, placing the small breakable ones there, older but tougher objects somewhere else and so on. Eventually though the teenager got to the old weapons that Mr. Gold was every interested in keeping.

There were a few swords, some World War Two guns and army Swiss Knives, the usual things that she cataloged back here. However, there was one object that Lydia was pretty sure she had never seen before in the groups of weapons that had needed cataloging, and certainly there hadn't been anything like it. Lydia held it careful, afraid that despite it being very rusted and a little worryingly green in places that it could still be working at least a little, which would end up seriously hurting her, and the rust could cause an infection to if she wasn't careful with it.

It was a bear trap.

She just hadn't been looking where she was walking; a regular occurrence for her, but of course getting stuck in a bear trap was barely ever the consequences she got for it. It didn't take long after foot met bear trap that she was on the ground feeling was quite possibly the worst pain of her entire life, but then again she hadn't suffered child birth yet so maybe it would come up a close second or at least the worst pain so far. Anyway, there she was, lying in the snow that had completely hidden the bear trap from her gaze as it started turning a rather frightening shade of pink around her leg area, and she certinaly was making quite a bit of noise about it.

Of course it took some time until someone eventually came across her (and for a long time she was thinking that no one actually would); after all she was walking through a usually and rightfully empty forest that didn't have a road going through it for miles. But as soon as she became aware of who it was that found her writhing painfully in the cold snow and crying out like dying animal, the thief felt as though it would be a much better feeling for both her pride and her humiliation if she just stomped on another bear trap. Especially since he apparently wanted to make a pun of the situation before doing anything else.

"Well, well that certainly looks… unbearable,"

The rather pained teenager looked up to see what many people in the land called 'The Dark One', or what the most drunken of the lot would call 'that smiling git you should never make deals with'. But she herself had a more improvised title for this being that was well known for his loopholes and untrustworthy magic, and apparently making very unnecessary puns in the middle of a rather painful situation. That title she had made especially for him (though of course she did use it sometimes on others that she felt deserved it) was that of the Master of Incorrect Sale and Tricks, who Entertains Royals. Or, as a shorter version to save time-

"Mister," She had been thinking of sir, but couldn't find a word for monster that started with S.

She whispered rather pathetically, her voice a little hoarse from all the crying and screaming of pain she had been doing rather recently. It took a few more swallows of saliva to attempt to continue talking, the strange man creature that had come across her giggling amusedly under his breath somewhat at her expense. The thief tried to ignore that, and instead kept talking; pleading her case for him to help her, (even though she already had doubts about it, since he had a reputation for not really being someone to willingly extended a helping hand, at least not without something in return) since she was starting to feel dizzy, and the snow was getting pinker by the minute.

"P-please help me, please…"

"You're very lucky I just happened to come across you dearie. There isn't a road for miles,"

He crouched down near her leg, apparently looking it over before deciding it a good idea to poke it straight out, and the answer to that was an immediate scream of pain and begging for him to help in any way that didn't include continuing to poke her leg. The Dark One, or Mister, got back to his feet and walked around her in a slow and rather intense circle, tapping his chin in apparent thought, all the while the blonde was starting to feel more and more dizzy, she was losing far too much blood far too quickly from her leg. If she passed out now she was certain that he wouldn't help her, and wolves would be the ones to find her next.

"In fact, the only thing that is close to this forest, would be my estate,"

He cocked his head curiously as his hands continued to gesture around, the intention in his voice already clear as he looked back down at her, the thief returning the gaze with pleading eyes. The sting of tears in her the corner of her eyes was best ignored, again just for her pride than anything else. She didn't want to seem so weak already, as it wouldn't do anything to help her at that moment. No, she had to stay strong, for at least as long as she could hold onto her consciousness before finally fainting from so much blood loss. After that brief period of silence he spoke again.

"Now, I think we can cut a deal to save your life. But… a deal needs two interested parties…"

The Dark One crouched down again, near her head this time as one of his scaly hands stroked at a long blonde curled hair, before leaning closer to whisper in her ear, the small giggling that followed after not unexpected.

"So, who are you, and why are you looking for me?"

A sudden slam of the shops' front door frightened Lydia into jerking back, accidentally dropping the bear trap, which went off as it hit the ground. The teenager shouted in fear at the sound of the metal crashing together and grabbing her hand in reaction, feeling already the sting of the cut that she had received from dropping it to the floor, and swore many a colorful profanity, even though the teenager knew she ought to be thankful that it didn't do more damage. There was sound of quick movement as the new arrival into the shop moved to the back room to see what all the commotion had been.

"Are you alright?"

Lydia didn't bother to look back for a while to see who the new customer was, as she was instead rather importantly occupied by the pain in her hand, which was actually worse than what she had originally thought, since usually small cuts don't produce that much pain and blood. In fact, in looking it over again it was pretty obvious that the cut went from the tip of her middle finger to the middle of her palm. It was a strange cut, especially when it was accidentally done via dropping an ancient hunting weapon that apparently still worked just fine. It wasn't too deep thankfully, but was still pretty bad.

It was a rather strange wound due to the circumstances in which it happened, but it was somewhat thrown away with the fact that it really, really stung and was still bleeding a bit. But still, there was a customer here and she was supposed to be minding the store while her legal guardian was away scaring the locals/picking up the rent that he was owed for owning the whole town, so she had to shake it off for as long as this person was here and then find the time to deal with it. Lydia shoved her injured hand into her pocket and turned back to finally face the customer, gesturing for them to go back out into the main room as she went back behind the desk.

"Ah… fine, just a scratch nothing more, is there anything I can help you with?"

The customer was someone that the teen had seen around town when she was growing up, a parent of someone who use to be her classmate before she dropped out perhaps, especially since she remembered seeing him during the parent-teacher meetings, scolding at what she remembered to be quite the star footballer of that year. Anyway, the parent looked back at Lydia with what she hoped wasn't a condescending look, but of course her hopes were rather dashed when he decided to speak in the patronizing tone that she already could guess was his normal way of speaking to anyone and everyone.

"I think I'll wait for Mr. Gold to come back, serious business,"

Oh the things she would say if he wasn't a customer, and the customer was supposed to be always right. Her hands held down to the edges of the desk, trying her best not o make it obvious that she wasn't glaring openly at the customer that was currently making it his business to look into every single object that was on the shelves and in the glass cases. Now she was starting to understand the feeling that Mr. Gold would get when she was touching everything in the store, but that was different since she was his kid, and this was just some creepy condescending stranger that was practically just wasting her time because apparently she wasn't serious enough or something.

Finally, after what was nearly an eternity of standing around and feeling nothing but pure agony in her hand, Mr. Gold finally managed to make his reappearance. Lydia made a tactful escape of quickly running to the first aid kit in the back room and bandaging her hand so she could stop leaking blood everywhere in the pocket of her jacket. After finally managing to help her wound and not having to babysit an adult anymore, she quickly got back to her work of cataloging. Quietly though, so she could still hear the conversation going on in the other room between the customer and Mr. Gold.

And she didn't like what she heard.

Please review, constructive criticism always welcome.