This is the first fanfic I ever post in English, which is not my first language... I hope you like it!

The old man sat by the fire. He was tired, but happy with his day. Grandchildren would do that to you: an exhausting day spent in laughter and joy. Now that the sun was set, calm finally returned to his home. But he was more interested in what tomorrow would bring that the night of rest. Another day spent with his grandchildren. Maybe they would go for a walk in the forest. He had so many secret paths he wanted to show them.

For now, he should return to his bedroom… But the embers still glowing caught his gaze and he was too busy thinking to feel the need for a rest to notice the presence in the corner of the room.

"Grandpa?"

He quickly turned his look towards the child.

"Oh. I didn't see you there little one. Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I couldn't. I was thinking."

The old man bend to have a better look at him.

"And what were you thinking of?"

The child remained silent for a moment, his hesitance clear on his stance.

"Today… Mom mentioned… 'Sarah'. But she wasn't talking about Aunt Sarah, was she?" "No she wasn't, he admitted immediately."

He was such a clever little boy. The old man felt as if lying to him would be an insult.

"Then who is it? Who is Sarah?"

The old man sat back in his chair and with a movement of his hand, showed him the floor where the little boy sat on the old and comfortable rug.

"Did you know, began the old man, that the name 'Sarah' means 'Princess'?"

The boy shook his head.

"Sarah was a princess. She was beautiful and smart, and had an unbridled imagination. She was however, an adolescent girl, and every bit of a brat."

The boy laughed at that, covering his mouth with his hand as to not awake his siblings.

"Was she brave and a slayer of dragons?"

"Oh she was brave. And had the dragons still be around when she was born, be sure that she would have been the first on a horse with a spear and a cry and a hunger for justice. But she didn't battle with dragons, no. The disaster that plagued her time was an evil king."

The boy awed at that, his eyes round and bright in the firelight.

"An evil king? Is that like an evil stepmother in fairy tales?"

The old man laughed, trifling the sound before it could break the silence of the house.

"In a way, you could say so, I imagine. Sarah had a stepmother, but she wasn't an evil one."

The child frowned.

"But stepmothers are always evil! That's the rule!"

"Is it, really?"

"Well, I mean… What about Cinderella? And Snow White? And Hansel and Gretel? They all had wicked stepmothers!"

"Yes, that is exactly what Sarah thought."

The old man lost his gaze once again in the fire. He took the poker and stirred it to avoid the death of their light.

"Grandpa, what about the king?", asked the boy who could no longer wait after fifteen minutes of silence. "Yes, well, the king. He was evil, or so thought Sarah. He took babies away from their families…"

"Like Rumpless… Rumpli…Runpeliss…"

"Rumpelstiltskin."

"Yes, him! Like him? And like the bogeyman?"

"Yes, in a way. But as I was saying, he took the babies away from their families when they no longer wished to take care of them."

"But why would a king want to take babies away?"

"Why do you think?"

The boy frowned again in deep concentration.

"Well, because he is evil."

"That would make sense."

"And did the Princess go and strike him down with a big sword and there was lots of blood and he cried because it hurt? Or was she one of the lousy princess that sit around and wait for someone else to slay the monsters?"

"She didn't strike him with a sword, no. But she didn't sit around either."

"What did she do then?"

The boy was bouncing up and down with excitation.

"I will only tell you if you calm down, young man. We wouldn't want the others to wake up now, huh?"

"No, Grandpa."

"Good. The king ruled over a city that was beyond walls and walls, and the way to the main doors of this city was so intricate that his kingdom was called the Labyrinth."

"The Labyrinth?", asked the child, in awe. "So complex and so large that it would take days for the fools that tried to enter it to solve it. And even those who could find their way only returned to the entrance. Very few were those who could brave the giant walls and the dangers deep into the maze and finally enter the city."

"But Sarah did?"

"Oh, she thought she could, at any rate. For the king had taken something from her and she was set on stopping his wrong doings."

"How did she solve the Labyrinth?"

"She loved to read."

The boy's face crunched at that. He didn't like books, that was for sure. He preferred stories told and showed better than the ones written and read.

"How could that have helped her?"

"She knew every trick that one should know about solving Labyrinth because of her books. How to remember where she had turned, how to decide where to turn and when to stop or go back to where she begun. For the way forward is not always the fastest."

The old man stopped his narrating for a moment, letting him meditate on his words.

"She was not alone either. Over the years, several persons found their way into the Labyrinth. And some of them actually decided to live in it. The king let them, at the condition of stopping anyone who would want to go through the maze. Sometimes they would attack them. Other times they would trick them into thinking that they led them in the right direction. Sometimes they wouldn't even show themselves, setting traps and riddles for the runners of the maze."

"But she didn't let herself be tricked, did she?"

"Well, sometimes she did. But as I said, she wasn't always alone. For with her own wit and charms and gentleness, she tricked them as well, sometimes making them her friends. Her first friend was a dwarf, a scrimpy and lonesome being. Then she soothed a giant and hairy beast with a simple mind and a gentle soul. Her third and last companion was a small but proud knight, even more fearless than the Princess, even though she was three times as tall as he."

"But wasn't the king mad?"

"He was. That's why he used other ways to get to her. He showed her her dreams, as an attempt to distract her from her goal, but it didn't work. He resorted to meaningless but pricy gifts, but she merely glance at them before she was back on her tracks. As tempted as she could have want all of what he offered, she was way too stubborn to admit it."

"The old king could not defeat her! Sarah was too smart!"

"Oh, I would not call him old. He was, in fact, quite in shape. That is why he tried to seduce her."

Disgust was written on the child's face as the words were out of his grandfather's mouth. The boy strangled a noise in the back of his throat as if he almost barfed.

"Grandpa, gross!"

"I am just telling you the story, little one!", laughed the old man. "But that is… Wrong! He is… And she is… She's a princess! The villain should not try to… S-seduce the hero of the story!"

"Why not?"

"Because… because… Gross!"

"I think you made that quite clear already."

The round and young face of the boy was still crunched in repugnance.

"He is evil. He should try to kill her. Or to trap her in a tower and she would be all awesome and kick his butt and save the day because she's brave and smart!"

"So you think it is braver to face something that is trying to kill or harm you, than to battle against something that hides its evil behind temptation and an attractive façade?"

The boy opened his mouth as if to answer affirmatively, then shut it to re-open it quickly. Not a sound made out of him as he reflected on his grandfather's words.

"I… I don't know."

"I think I am going to make some tea. My throat is rather parched. Do you want anything?"

"No, thank you Grandpa."

The old man got up, his knees cracking from the motion. He didn't plan on this little story time, but he was fully enjoying it.

"Oh wait Grandpa, before you go: tell me, she did resist, didn't she?"

The old man had a malicious grin and made a few steps towards the kitchen.

"Really parched. I shouldn't talk before my drink."

"But Grandpa!"

The old man turned around, a finger over lips and pointing another towards the room where the siblings of the boy were sleeping.

The child pouted but sat still, his arms crossed and back hunched as he proceeded to some sulking.