Fun Fact- The title; "Faute de Mieux" is French for; "For lack of something better". How did I get it?
Well, thus far, the story has no direction, so I couldn't think of a title. But FF doesn't let you submit title-less stories.
So I opened the dictionary, and it was the first thing I saw! True story!
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. But trust me, I'm working on it -insert evil laughter-
A/N: I know! Starting another fic when I'm not done with the others! Bad Crystal! But you do not know how insistent my plot bunnies can be -looks around shiftily-
Plot bunny: Is "shiftily" even a word?
Me: AUGHGHGH!!!!!!!!! THEY'RE BACK!!!!
This chapter is dedicated to my parents.
YES I KNOW I DEDICATED SOMETHING ELSE TO THEM!!!!!!
But, you know, the whole "Life-giving" thing, I pretty much owe it to them.
Sarah's Parents
Often, when a child is small; they believe that their parents know everything. But when Sarah Williams was small, she was of the opinion that her father was the stupidest person alive.
This may seem horrible, but Sarah had her reasons. Robert Williams was a workaholic and as such, never had any time for Sarah. He was clumsy, often forgetful, and had once told Sarah; "Fairytales aren't real. They're stupid, pointless wastes of time." Her father had no imagination. This cemented in Sarah's mind that her father was stupid.
Her mother, however, was very different.
In Sarah's eyes, her mother was the single most brilliant person to ever walk the earth. Linda Williams was an excellent storyteller, giving each character their own voice. She knew everything about fairies and elves; magic, and Otherworlds; and she always had an answer for any question that curious Sarah could ask (though not always the correct answer, mind you). She was, in little Sarah's mind; perfect.
Every Friday, Sarah and her mother would dress up as fairies, and then go to Lawry's Ice Cream Parlor.
The owner, one Sam Lawry, liked little Sarah very much. He was a jovial old man with a long beard and a rather portly middle. The first day Sarah had come in; she had looked at him in awe, and then asked if he was Santa.
Contrary to the reaction most adults would have had if asked that question; he had laughed, then promised her free ice cream any time she wanted it.
Sarah and her mother often had little "adventures" together.
Once, they had gone to a museum. They almost immediately got lost in its labyrinthine hallways. They pretended they were in an enchanted maze and had to get out before eight (closing time) or they were lost forever. Eventually, with the help of a friendly security guard, they had managed to escape.
Another time, they went to see a musical. They had gotten front row seats to see it. Sarah loved it so much; she was nearly bouncing in her seat. Seeing this, one of the actors, still singing his part, jumped offstage, and then brought her back on with him, where she danced and played with several other children who were actually part of the program. Her mother applauded and laughed along with the rest of the audience. Sarah decided then and there that she wanted to be an actress.
When Sarah was seven, she had gone with her mother to a "ball". She had been very disappointed with it. Everyone was wearing suits, not gowns, and there wasn't a single prince or king in sight. She told her mother how upset she was.
"Don't worry, Sarah," she told her daughter. "One day, you'll have your own ball. It'll have pretty dresses, wonderful dancers, and a king who loves you." Sarah had then asked if her mother had ever had such. Her mother had gotten a sad look in her eyes, and then whispered, almost to herself. "No."
On Sarah's eighth birthday (which her father had, of course, forgotten), her mother took her to a little shop downtown. It was what she called "A Curiosity Shop". She had told Sarah to pick something, anything out. Sarah had looked high and low, wracked with childish indecision. Then, she saw it. The perfect thing!
It was a music box. A little dancer in a gazebo, twirling to the music, captivated Sarah. When she turned it over, she saw letters. Not feeling patient enough to put her school lessons to good use, she held it up to her mother.
"Mommy," she asked. "What does this say?" her mother had looked at it, then smiled and said;
"It's an inscription. It says; 'To Jareth, High King of all Fae'. Now, what would a king be doing with a music box?" Sarah had jumped up and down, then exclaimed;
"He's going to give it to a princess!" Her mother had smiled and agreed with her.
They bought the music box that day. For many years, Sarah would dream about what it would be like to be the dancer. To be always spinning. But, as she once noted, the dancer was always alone. And Sarah wouldn't end up alone. No, she resolved not to.
Sarah loved her mother, and her mother loved her. Together, they planned many adventures. Sarah was told that the moment she turned sixteen, she was going to Europe with her mother. They would see castles, monuments, and would eat at every café they came across. Of course, we all know that never happened…
A/N: Reviews are to a writer as energy drinks are to an athlete. If an athlete gets lots of energy drinks, they'll go faster...or rush to the bathroom. AUGH! My metaphor stinks.
But you get the idea! Review!
P. S. If this seems different from what it once was; it's because I'm going through and self-beta-ing this story. It has so many mistakes!