The original Princess and the Goblin story is owned by George MacDonald, and the movie by Entertainment Film Distributions and Budapest Film. Any unrecognized characters are mine.

Maddy: I really like that I've improved so much in my writing over the past seven years (it almost seems like it's been longer since I wrote "Princess and the Goblin 2") I'm also really glad that everyone seems to be enjoying it. Thank you :)

Angelica's eyes widened as Irene told her of her plan. "But... he's a goblin, Your Highness," she whispered, holding her hood tighter around her head. "With all due respect... can he really be trusted?"

"We both want the same thing:" the princess answered solemnly, "for Dirtclaw to be dead. And we have similar reasons for wanting him to be dead. And even then, he agreed to the truce."

"And you think he will hold up his end of it?"

"... I can only hope. But should he forget about the truce, I know how to defend myself against goblins," she smiled cheekily. "Ten years hasn't made me soft against them, and the truce won't either. But I need your help, Angelica."

"A-anything," her handmaiden said immediately.

"I need you to help me gather supplies for the journey, and to create a distraction to get the guards away from the dungeon tonight. Can you do that for me?"

"It... it is my duty to serve you, my princess." Angelica bowed at the waist. "And I shall do my best to serve you tonight."

"Thank you," Irene nodded, laying a hand on her shoulder. Ignoring the flinch from the other girl, she continued, "We must be ready once the sun sets. Once it is done... there is no going back."

"When will you return?"

"As soon as Dirtclaw is dead."

"Yes, but how long will that take?"

"... I do not know," Irene confessed, "Froglip says the journey to Skewer Summit will take several days, and we will have to travel to and from it... have you heard of the mountain, Angelica?"

"Only in passing, Your Highness." She suddenly turned away and grabbed a piece of parchment and a pen. Dipping the pen in an inkwell, she drew out a large mountain, which almost seemed to be made of giant shards. "There is also a river which flows into the mountain," she added as she drew a flowing river leading into the base of the mountain.

"Have there been stories of goblins living there?"

Angelica was quiet before she answered in a low tone, "I don't know."

Irene furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but decided to let it go. "At any rate, we can pack up now so I'll be ready to go tonight."

She nodded, seeming to be glad for the subject change. "I can go get some supplies, while you find a bag and anything you think you need. But it-it's best to travel light."

"All right," Irene answered as her handmaiden left the room. Looking around, she found a large leather satchel, with the Porumbel sigil embroidered in gold on the the flap. She grabbed a couple of her favorite books and stuffed them into the bag. Even if they weren't necessary for a journey, she wanted them for entertainment, and for a bit of nostalgia, since it would be the first time she would be away from home for longer than a day.

She sighed softly, running her fingers over the pigeons and crown. It was slowly starting to sink in what she was about to do: she was about to run away from home, with her enemy, who was also basically a stranger, and travel for several days to and from the mountain, and try to kill a monster she previously had no idea even existed. A tiny part of her urged her not to do it, but she already made up her mind, and nothing could sway her.

Angelica returned to the room, arms full of supplies: a couple of rolls of bandages, a bottle of poultice, a bundle of rope, a water-skin that looked full, and something wrapped in a large cloth. As Irene took the various objects and put them in the satchel, Angelica revealed that there was food in the cloth, including a loaf of bread, dried fruits, and salted meats.

Once everything was packed into the satchel, Irene took Angelica's hands into her own and said, "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

"Y-you're we-welcome, Your Highness," she answered, standing very stiff. "But my job isn't done. Tonight, I will return and help you and Froglip get out."

"Thank you," Irene nodded, letting her hands go. She hid the satchel in a chest, and Angelica helped her prepare for bed. Keeping in mind that she wouldn't be sleeping comfortably for several days, she snuggled deep into the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin as her handmaiden left the room.

Despite feeling warm and cozy in her bed, she couldn't fall asleep. The upcoming plan to sneak out of the castle with Froglip—who was not only her biggest enemy, but also a prisoner who was due to be executed for his people's presumed crime—and travel to a mountain she hadn't heard of prior to that day was keeping her wide awake. All of the possibilities ran through her head; they could get lost, they could get separated, or worse, he could be lying and end up hurting her.

But Froglip seemed sincere, and Angelica confirmed that Skewer Summit was real. And as she said, she knew how to defend herself against goblins. And even if he didn't seem it, she knew he absolutely wanted revenge against Dirtclaw. After all, his own parents had been killed by the wolf, and they already seemed to have a history even before the murder.

Her hands were laying flat on the bedspread as she continued to lay in the bed. The fire-opal on her ring began to glow slightly. She hadn't noticed this, but she did notice a glowing line, starting at her ring, and flowing out of the room. As soon as her eye caught the glowing line, she realized it wasn't merely a line; it was the thread her great-great-grandmother had gifted her ten years ago just before the goblins attacked.

She climbed out of bed, gently grasped the line in her right hand, and followed the thread out of her room, down a hall, and up some stairs. She barely noticed where she was going until she found herself outside a familiar door. She pushed the door open with a smile, knowing it wouldn't look like a dark, dusty room.

Indeed, the room was lit by a large, inviting fire in an ornate fireplace. Instead of smelling like burning wood and a hint of smoke, the room smelled of rose petals, and the fire had a slight pink glow. The entire room was an orange-pink color, including a few articles of furniture. Standing in the room beside the fireplace was a tall, older woman. She wore a light-lavender-colored dress, a rose-pink sash around her waist, and a golden crown on her head. Her skin was pale, and her thick white hair easily reached down to the ground. She had a kind face, blue eyes that matched Irene's, and a pink smile.

Without a word, Irene ran to the woman's arms, and hugged her tightly. It had been ten years since she had last seen her great-great-grandmother, Irene, and she had sorely missed her. Her happy laughs turned to sobs as she realized how truly alone she was now; her only family had been murdered only a day ago, and he must have finally met the woman Irene told him about all those years ago. Even if he didn't see her when he was alive, she knew he believed every word she said.

As if reading her thoughts, her grandmother said softly, "There, there, my child. Your father rests peacefully. He is all right." She tilted her descendant's face up delicately and cupped her cheeks with her hands. She gently brushed away the tears with her thumbs.

"Oh, Grandmother," Irene whispered, "that... that monster..."

"Yes, I know," the older woman sighed. This struck Irene, as she had never heard her grandmother sound so mournful. "My child," she said, grasping her great-great-granddaughter's shoulders and pushing her an arm's length away from her, "you realize this mission of yours is very dangerous, yes? And not simply because of the wolf. You must remember what that goblin nearly did to you?"

"I do, Grandmother," Irene nodded as her grandmother took her hands in her own. "But if I allow Dirtclaw to live, with the knowledge that I could have done something, I couldn't live with myself. He is too dangerous to live. Traveling with Froglip... it is a necessary evil to rid the world of a monster."

Her grandmother gave a solemn nod as she let Irene's hands go. "I understand. And I believe in you to accomplish your goal and keep yourself safe. However, I will still provide you with some protection."

"Protection? What sort of protection?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she lifted Irene's necklace with both hands. Her hair floated up and fell over the necklace. Rose petals flew around the hair and necklace, as if being blown by a breeze, and a few white pigeons flew over them both, dropping several feathers.

When her hair fell away, the necklace now had alternating pink rose petals and small, white pigeon feathers along the chain on either side of the pendant. The rose petals looked and smelled fresh, as if they had been plucked from the flower only recently, and the feathers felt soft to the touch. "Thank you, Grandmother," Irene said, adjusting the necklace back in place. "But will this truly help me?"

"It is the same principle as the thread I gave you many years ago," she explained, lifting her granddaughter's left hand and running her thumb over the ring. "Do you remember what I taught you?"

"Yes, that I had to find my own magic," Irene nodded. "The sort of magic inside of everyone; good against evil, right against wrong, and doing what I think is right, even if no one else will help me. But... I don't understand what this has to do with my necklace."

"You will see in time, my child," her grandmother smiled, lifting her chin with her other hand and kissing her forehead. "But for now, if you truly think this is the right path, you must go. You are a brave and kind child... no, a brave and kind young woman. And I believe as long as you follow your heart, and do what you think is right, you will be all right."

Irene hugged her grandmother one last time, and then turned to exit the room. After she closed the door, her curiosity was too great to ignore. When she turned and cracked the door open, she saw it had returned to the dark, dusty room it always was. But when she fingered her necklace, she felt the smooth petals and soft feathers. Smiling, she returned to her room.