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.

"Froglip, I've been wondering something, and have been meaning to ask you-"

"-well, spit it out then. You've been stewing on it for so long, might as well get it out."

"How do you know Dirtclaw?"

Froglip froze at the question. But unlike when Irene had asked him why he and his kind lived in the mountains, his answer was short and quick, as if he was angry, "Why do you need to know?"

"Because I want to know about hi-"

"-Why?!"

"We're both going to confront him, I think I deserve to know about him. And you're the only one who knows-"

"-I wasn't the only one who knew him!"

"Do you see any other goblins with us? No!" she snapped.

"Well, I don't feel like talking to him!" he growled, crossing his arms.

"I don't care! I know very little about him, other than the fact that he's a great big winged beast, and that you seem to know about him! You're the only one with information on him, and I think I deserve to know about him too!"

"You're pushing it," he warned, pointing a finger at him.

She pushed his hand away without any sense of fear. All she felt was irritation and anger. "Froglip, all I'm asking is why you know him! That can't be too difficult of a question to answer! And I want answers! Right now!"

Snarling, he finally shouted, "Fine! You want anth'wer'th?! Fine! He wa'th my pet!"

Her eyes widened and her face paled. "What?"

"Ye'th! My pet, and my beth't friend! What, you think I didn't have friend'th? Well, think again! I've had him for th'o long, I couldn't imagine life without him! Mother th'aid I begged, begged for her to let me keep him! He wa'th treated like royalty! And you know how he repaid u'th?!" He was shaking, his fists were clenched, and to her surprise, tears were welling in his eyes. "That no good, double-cro'thing, betraying, th'tupid th'on of a bitch!"

"Froglip, you need to calm down!"

"Don't tell me to-!" He was interrupted when she grabbed his face and held him so they were inches apart. All he could see were her round teal eyes.

"Listen to me," she said calmly, yet sternly, "you need to take a deep breath, and relax. When you're speaking fast and angrily, I can barely understand you past your lisp. And it won't do good to work yourself up into such a frenzy." She slowly and deeply inhaled, and let it out just as slowly.

Though he was still glaring, he copied her deep breaths in and out. And after a few seconds, he felt himself actually calming down, and even thinking more clearly. But that also meant painful memories were resurfacing; ones that he had tried to bury deep within the recesses of his mind.

Finally, she removed her hands and moved back a step. He actually found himself a little disappointed when she let his face go, but he shook it off. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. "... Do you want to know the full story?" he asked slowly, minding his lisp.

"If you're comfortable with it, and if it will help me learn more about Dirtclaw, yes."

"I'm not comfortable with it, not at all, but... y-you're right. We're in this together, and you deserve to know about him." He took another deep breath, and continued, "Before I was born, there were more winged wolves. Not a huge pack, but a good-sized one. They lived on the other side of the mountains, so I wouldn't expect any of the Sun-People knew about them—at least, the ones that live in your castle and work in the mines. But anyway, they didn't get along with us goblins. There were fights over food, they attacked when we wandered in their territory during hunts, and sometimes when prey was scarce they would hunt us. So, one day, when I was very young, my father led an attack on the wolves."

"How? They have wings, so wouldn't they have the advantage?"

"We may not show it often, Irene, but us goblins are smart. They used bows and arrows to pierce their wing membranes and rock launchers to break their wings so they couldn't fly. And some brave, albeit stupid goblins even leaped onto wolves' backs and sliced their wings with knives. It wasn't without casualties, but we won and killed every last winged wolf..."

"... except for one," she finished.

"Except for one," he nodded. "I had ran out once the battle was over because I was bored, evading my guards. I found a tiny little winged wolf pup wandering around, whimpering, and decided I wanted him. Mother said I grabbed him right up like he was a doll and begged her to let me keep him. And eventually, she let me. Because of his earth-colored claws, and because I'm so clever with names..."

"... you called him Dirtclaw."

"Indeed. We grew up together. When I was a few years older—maybe nine, or ten—me and the other young goblins were told about the Winged Wolf and Goblin War. After that... Dirtclaw ran away. What I didn't realize at the time was that he had realized that we killed his family." He looked forlorn and ashamed now, something Irene never thought she would ever see on him.

"You didn't lead the attack," she said softly, laying a hand on his arm. "It wasn't your fault."

"No, but I still cheered for our victory. I didn't realize how much it hurt Dirtclaw... and I didn't realize that it was only the beginning. When he returned, he was a mess. He was covered in lacerations that were still healing, but that was the least of the changes. He was far more antisocial and irritated, but I ignored it. Things only went from bad to worse."

"How so?"

"When I was born, I had been betrothed to another goblin. She was actually from a clan that had joined us, and was the daughter of the leader."

"Betrothed?" she muttered. To her surprise, she felt jealous. Why would I feel this way? It's obvious that his betrothal fell through, and I'm betrothed. Why am I jealous of this female goblin?

"Yes, I was," he nodded, not seeming to notice her change of attitude. "I had learned about it some time after Dirtclaw returned. But obviously, it didn't go through."

"What happened?"

"We were walking through the tunnels, she and I, and I heard Dirtclaw calling for me. I left her to go see what he wanted... and there was a rock-slide behind me. She had been caught in it and... didn't survive."

"I'm sorry," she said softly, inching closer to him; they had sat down by now. She laid her hand on his arm again and squeezed comfortingly. He didn't brush her off, or even look strangely down at her hand. He was either too engrossed with telling his story, or he didn't mind the comfort. Some time ago, she would have bet on the former being the case. Now, she was admittedly not sure what to make of it.

"Later on, I was betrothed again. This time, to one of our own goblins. No one from the new clan wanted to betroth their daughter to me, lest they end up dying as well. This time, she was found at the bottom of a crevice. At the time, no one knew if she had jumped or was pushed off. For some time, I thought I was cursed... but obviously, I wasn't. It wasn't a curse that was causing it; it was murder. One night, I was sleeping, and was awoken. Dirtclaw was standing over me, glaring down at me. I asked him what his problem was, but he didn't answer. He slowly grinned, drool dripping from his fangs, and his eyes were glowing. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of him."

"What did he do?"

"He was about to grab my throat in his jaws, but a few guards burst in and pulled him off of me. I swear his teeth were this close," he held his finger and thumb apart like he was holding a tiny little pebble. "I could almost feel his hot breath on my neck. He was imprisoned, brought before the high council, and questioned."

"And?"

"He confessed everything. He had killed the two female goblins, and was obviously intending on killing me. All because of what we had done to his family. He had been planning this for the past few years."

"Why didn't you kill him?"

"It was my decision, as I was the main target. But I... I couldn't bare to, to see him killed." He sniffed and rubbed his eye with the heel of one of his hands. "So, it was decided he would be exiled. He had large Xs carved into his shoulders so we would know he wasn't to be trusted. It was what happened to any goblin that was exiled, but we made a much-needed exception for him"

"That's why you asked Glump if he had those scars," she breathed.

"And this is why he killed my parents," the goblin sighed. "He didn't want to kill the whole clan, only the leaders. The ones who instigated the entire attack. Perhaps he would later pick off the goblins if he became bored? I don't know. But I'm willing to wager that the only reason he killed your father was because he got in the way. He doesn't do things randomly, he had to have had a reason to kill him. He had no quarrel with Sun-People, at least as far as I know." He chuckled darkly, "I'm starting to realize that I actually don't know a lot about him, if anything at all anymore."

"If he's doing all of this for revenge against his family's murder... does that mean we're no different than him?"

To her shock, Froglip answered, "No, we're nearly the same. We all have had family murdered, and are trying to kill the murderer. But the only difference is Dirtclaw has killed for more than revenge."

"How do you know?"

"Word travels. He's killed other goblins, and I even heard he's killed Sun-People. My theory is he got a taste for blood, probably when he had disappeared and returned with his scars. And he won't stop killing after he's gotten his revenge. As I said, I can guarantee that he wouldn't have left my people alone for long. But we're only killing him, no one else."

Irene felt hollow inside. She had gotten what she wanted, but it didn't make her feel any better. Not to mention the notion that she was no better than the wolf, even despite Froglip's assurance that they were marginally better. It made her feel so horrible for her companion "I'm... I'm so sorry, Froglip," she whispered.

"It doesn't matter," he brushed it off. "What's done is done, and we can't go back. Telling you this doesn't change my mind; in fact, it makes me want to see him dead even more."

Even if he said it didn't matter, she could tell he was still hurt. And she understood. If Curdie had suddenly changed his character and had hurt her in the same way Dirtclaw hurt Froglip, she would have been crushed. Perhaps even become as cynical as Froglip himself... or perhaps not. She didn't know how she would have changed if something like that happened, but she couldn't imagine becoming entirely different. Only more cautious and less willing to trust initially.

Evening had fallen by the time they had finally managed to leave the forest. It felt so good to be out in the open air and see more than trees. It was too dark to see anything in front of them though, and the moon wasn't out that night. They would have to wait until morning to see if Skewer Summit was visible.

They had found a large tree that had fallen onto a boulder, creating a shelter of some sorts. Lichen grew on the sides of the tree and hung down like curtains. They had found the shelter in time for it to start raining. Thunder soon came after, though it didn't seem to be storming as hard as it had the few nights prior.

They both ate dinner and quickly fell asleep to the pounding rain and rumbling thunder. But after what felt like seconds, though t could have been minutes or hours, Irene was woken up. At first, she wondered if it was a loud clap of thunder. But she realized she could feel movement right beside her, as well groaning and whimpering. Something hit her in the leg, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

Looking to the side, she saw Froglip curled tightly in a fetal position, wriggling madly in place and kicking his legs out every now and then. His teeth and eyes were clenched, and he sounded like he was terrified. "Froglip!" she whispered, but he didn't wake up. "Froglip!" She laid a hand on his shoulder, but he still stayed asleep. "Froglip, wake up!" she finally shouted, grabbing him with both hands and shaking him harshly.

He stiffened up and gasped harshly, eyes popping open. "Froglip, relax! I'm here!" she said soothingly, removing her hands to let him get up on his own.

He rolled onto his back, panting heavily. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, and he still looked startled. She wondered if that was what she looked like after waking from a nightmare. "You were... were you having a nightmare?"

"Why is it any of your business?!" he snapped, sitting up and brushing the dirt off of the side of his face. But he didn't sound angry; he came across more as embarrassed.

She frowned at him briefly before whispering, "For the past ten years, I've had nearly the same nightmare at least twice, maybe thrice a week. Almost always the same: the morning we 'officially' met. You would chase me around my room, I would bargain with you for Curdie's life, and we went down to the cellar, only to get washed away by the flood. I always wake up just as the water overtakes us."

His ears tilted, and his expression looked as though he was deep in thought. "Was I in your nightmare?" she grinned.

"No, of course not!" he chuckled nervously, brushing his hair back. He was silent for a few seconds before eventually continuing, "I was standing on the rock at the edge of the waterfall, the one you, the Sun-Boy and I were on. It was far more dark and foggy though. I couldn't see who, but someone kicked me in the chest, causing me to fall down the waterfall. It felt like a much longer fall than it originally was, but I eventually fell into the water. I sank deep into what felt like the ocean, but this time, no one was there to pull me out. I sunk deeper... and deeper..." He shuddered at the memory. "Before I blacked out though, the water seemed to almost... melt away. I found myself on my back... with Dirtclaw standing over me. It was like when I was younger; he was ready to kill me. And this time, when he grabbed my neck... nobody came."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shifting to the side so she was right next to him. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and stroked his back. He froze at the sudden contact, but didn't push her away. In all honesty, it did make him feel a little better. After a few minutes, she was leaning against him and breathing softly in her sleep. He thought about pushing her away, but in the end he moved her so he was able to lean more comfortable back against the rock. She was sitting in front of him between his legs, and leaning against his chest. The warm weight against him felt quite strange, as he wasn't used to physical contact after ten years of living alone. Not to mention he never got this close to a Sun-Person, much less willingly. But in all honesty... it didn't feel too bad. It made him feel like he wasn't alone.

Good god, how starved for attention and touch have I become in the past ten years?

Looking down at her briefly, he let his head fall back against the rock with a sigh. He had lied; Irene was indeed in his nightmare. After the water went away, but before Dirtclaw stood over him, he saw the winged wolf standing over a pale body that was dressed in pink, and had orange hair. When he spotted Froglip, there was blood dripping from his jaws and running down to his chest. And when he began stalking towards him, the goblin saw that the body he was standing over was Irene, and that her throat had been torn out. He tried to call out for her, but it was as if he had suddenly gone mute. And no matter how hard he tried to get up, it was like he was paralyzed.

He shook the memory away, feeling his chest clench painfully. It was just a nightmare, she's right here, and Dirtclaw is nowhere around here. You're both safe... why am I so worried about her? Why do I care about her so much? Why do I enjoy her company so much? What is wrong with me? He grasped her shoulders, ready to push her off of him. But when he saw her peacefully-sleeping face, with a soft smile on her lips, he found himself unable to remove her. Instead he let his hands fall, and closed his eyes to try and fall back asleep. It didn't come as quickly as before, but he was able to drift off again.

Hopefully he wouldn't have any more nightmares before having to face the real deal.