The summons goes on for several minutes, becoming increasingly urgent as it does.

Etty curls up in a ball and weeps. The urgency is terrible, but it doesn't actually pick up her limbs for her, walk her around the lake - it's more like someone shouting into her ear that she must jump off the tower, she must, she must, and she can't, not now that she knows the crunching sound she makes when she hits the ground.

Etty scrunches her eyes shut and chokes and tries to pry his hand off her, not particularly effectively.

"It's not nice to keep me waiting, Odette," he says softly.

"Ulllk," chokes Etty.

He sets her on her feet and slaps her across the face hard enough to knock her back into the lake.

She lands with a splash - she gasps - that was a poor choice; her head's underwater -

Etty coughs and gasps in more water and coughs and gasps and flails and finally, finally manages to get her head above water and expel the contents of her lungs.

The Baron stands over her and watches.

Etty's attention is on getting water out and air in. She coughs, she gasps, she coughs, she swallows, she sucks in more air and lets it out.

"Now," says the Baron. "You won't keep me waiting like that again, will you, my swan?"

"I tried," she coughs. "I tried - I couldn't -"

"But you can," says the Baron. "You can. Get up."

The Baron just stands there.

"Come up to the castle with me," says the Baron.

"Please," whispers Etty. "Please don't."

"You will do as I say," says the Baron.

"Please don't make me."

He picks her up by one arm and the front of her dress and tosses her into the lake.

She shrinks back, towards the center of the lake, till it's almost too deep to stand.

Etty hisses in pain, shrinks in fear. "I'm begging you," she pleads, "please, please, please -"

He drags her to the edge of the water and shoves her into it facefirst, stepping on her back to prevent her from climbing out.

Etty struggles to no avail. She holds her breath, as long as she can, and lets it out, and inhales water and chokes and squirms.

The Baron waits.

"You can," she coughs, "pick me up and carry me wherever you want me to be - why do you need me to walk to it - why do you need me to pretend willing -"

"These tantrums are unbecoming, my swan."

"I should like nothing better than to be so unbecoming that you never want to see me or touch me again!" Etty shrieks heedlessly.

The Baron scowls thunderously and punches her in the stomach.

Etty vomits lakewater and bile into the mud.

When she appears to be finished, he grabs her by her hair and drags her upright and punches her again.

Dawn is many hours away, and the baron is extremely patient.

He's not leaving her in much of a condition to be able to walk even if every fiber of her being wished it, nonetheless.

She is alone with her thoughts for the rest of the night.

In the castle, someone is screaming.

The screaming is not coming from anywhere she can directly see.

The screaming goes on for some time, and then stops.

Etty waits for sunset.

Sunset comes, and the summons with it.

The summons continues.

The roof is generally lacking in those. There are a few ways to climb down, but none of them look promising.

"I couldn't get down," she whispers.

"And if I take you down, will you come to dinner?"

The owl flies her down to just outside the front gate; the Baron leads her inside. The table fills itself.

Etty eats.

"Run along, my swan."

He lets go of her shoulder and turns away, apparently expecting her not to follow.

Etty edges towards the door.

The Baron ignores her.

She lets herself out, and heads for the orchard.

There is no one there.

She is left alone until morning.

She's left alone all day, too.

She starts gliding by windows again, looking for Nona.

Nona is in her room, engaging in one of her pastimes.

Nothing.

The summons comes just after sunset.

He awaits her by the castle gate, and brings her in for dinner.

Etty participates in dinner.

After dinner, he offers her his arm.

"Come to bed, my swan."

"It is not so bad, my swan," he says, putting that arm around her shoulders.

She shivers and turns her head away.

The Baron tries gently leading her to his tower.

She's not actively resisting him, but her legs aren't cooperating except with the general theme of shuddering.

"It does you no good to be disobedient, my swan."

"I can't move. I am too afraid. I can't." She swallows, and says, "If you pick me up I can't do anything about that."

Etty shrinks into herself and pretends not to exist and shivers.

She can do that all she wants; the end result is the same.

After a little while, Nona shows up.

"Hi," Etty murmurs.

"Hi," says Nona.

"- I heard you screaming, today. And I also flew by your window at an inopportune time."

"I scream a lot when he's around. What was inopportune about it?"

"I believe I mentioned people don't usually talk about one of your pastimes. They also don't tend to want witnesses."

"Oh, that," says Nona. "I don't mind if you watch that."

"...Oh."

She shrugs.

"...Why not?"

"I don't know, why would I?"

"It's - private. Usually."

"Well, I guess I don't care about that."

"...Okay."

"Why, do you want to watch?"

"...No. Not soon, anyway." Etty wraps her arms around her knees and one cold shiver runs through her.

"Okay," says Nona.

"...Flying is nice," she volunteers after a silence.

"Good!" says Nona.

"I'd be terribly bored during daylight hours I couldn't spend sleeping otherwise," agrees Etty.

"I bet."

Etty sighs and sits quietly. It appears to be their unspoken agreement that they don't discuss exactly what the Baron has done to either of them.

Nona curls up close by.

Etty pauses, and thinks, and then reaches out to pet Nona's hair. Gently and quite chastely.

That is good. The curse should approve. Etty goes on with what she's doing.

Nona goes on smiling.

Etty's arm being tired is the least of her worries. She'll stop if the curse - or Nona - stops approving, or when the operative arm becomes a wing.

How about if Nona falls asleep? Because Nona falls asleep.

Etty stills her hand but leaves it where it is otherwise.

Nona sleeps.

Etty watches the hand approach and doesn't move.

So Nona pets her feathers.

Etty leans the entire length of her neck along Nona's arm.

Etty fluffs her wings and makes a sort of a whistling noise. She hasn't figured out all her available vocalizations but she thinks this one sounds happy.

Nona grins and cuddles her some more.

When Nona gets close enough Etty can actually get her neck a fair bit of the way around Nona's neck.

Nona giggles.

Etty whistle-sounds again. She puts her neck back in a more natural position, and then, after a moment's indecision, bites a dangling lock of Nona's hair.

She giggles again and pets Etty some more. Does Etty want to be in her lap? Nona thinks that it would be lovely to have Etty in her lap.

Etty will happily sit in Nona's lap.

Nona likes that! She has a lapful of fluffy feathery cuddly swan-person.

She does! Her fluffy feathery cuddly swan-person lapful sits and tucks her head under her wing.

Pet pet pet?

Feather-rustle. Etty is going to try to sleep now.

Okay. Nona is going to hug her while she does that.

Snuggly!

Etty wakes up about eight hours later. She untucks her head from her wing.

Nona is gone, but the clothes she was wearing remain, made into a little nest for Etty.

Sunset comes and goes. No summons.

No summons, no summons, no summons.

...No Nona?

No Nona.

Etty eats fruit and processes and makes sure she has her scroll and pen and ink away before sunrise. She goes swimming with the last few hours before light; it's more fun when one doesn't float so automatically. And she wants to confirm that she doesn't have a residual fear of drowning. (She doesn't.)

There's more screaming from the castle that day.

It seems to help Nona, anyway, or at least there's no obvious competing explanation for why she does so much of it.

Or maybe it's just what she does, like freezing and shivering is what Etty does.

That could be it, too.

Etty arranges to be on dry land at sunset.

Tonight, there is a summons.

"Come to dinner," says the Baron, and he leads her into the castle.

"Come to bed, my swan," says the Baron.

Etty is silent and still apart from the shaking.

The Baron picks her up and brings her to bed.

None of the doors that she can open are libraries; none of the doors that she can't open set her on fire when she tries them.

Is there anything else interesting? (A book left in a non-library, perhaps? Etty sorely misses reading books.)

Big, imposing halls. Empty rooms. Rooms full of old furniture with cobwebs all over it. Rooms full of old furniture sans cobwebs.

Etty wonders if she can find where the food comes from and take some of it. She's a little tired of fruit, and he doesn't feed her nightly.

In a word, no. There's a kitchen, but it's haphazardly equipped and doesn't currently contain food.

And there aren't any leftovers on the table, either, are there.

No.

She is not interrupted.

Nona comes a little past midnight.

Etty limps in her direction. "Hi," she says.

"Hi," says Nona. "What happened to your foot?"

"Fell out of a tree."

"Aww," says Nona. "I want to hug you."

Etty trips her way towards Nona to accept hugs.

"Mmm," sighs Etty, leaning on her.

Nona hugs her lots.

Good. Etty can stop putting weight on her hurt foot, then.

Instead, snuggles!

Yes. Etty approves of that.

So does Nona. So does the curse.

"The curse really likes it when we snuggle," murmurs Etty.

"I really like it too," says Nona. "That's probably why."

"That is probably why," agrees Etty. "I doubt the fact that I like it enters into it much."

"It does, though," says Nona. "I wouldn't if you didn't."

"What if I was very good at pretending?" asks Etty. "I'm not, but."

"...don't," says Nona. "Don't pretend you like stuff for me. Okay? Don't."

"I'm not even good at it. You'd be able to tell."

"Still don't," she says, "I don't want to have to guess."

"Okay."

"Are you crying?" It's hard to tell in the moonlight.

"Yeah, a little."

"Why?" Etty murmurs.

"I really don't want to be doing something you don't like and not know about it."

"Well - like compared to what - if I were going to do that it would be because I'm desperate," murmurs Etty. "I - I think I like almost anything you could do better than staying here."

"Well, yeah," says Nona, "I like lots of things better than the Baron that I don't actually like at all. But - but don't," she says helplessly.

Etty nibbles her lip, flexes her hurt foot, puts it somewhere more comfortable. "If you can't - satisfy the curse - I don't see another chance. I'm going to turn into a swanbrained - thing - if I can't get out of here - my mind is going to go - and that's the worst part, the worst, even though the rest is -" She shudders. "I don't have long. A few years isn't long."

"I love you," says Nona, hugging her some more.

"I am so afraid," Etty whispers, hugging tight, "that it won't be enough."

"Me too," says Nona. "And even if I did promise - we'd still have to do something about the Baron, after. Or he'd just do it all over again."

"Do you think you could kill him? I don't think I could."

"I think I could," she says. "If I surprised him. I know where to stab somebody so it really hurts."

"Me neither," Nona says wryly. "But I've wanted him dead for a long time."

Etty nods.

Nona sighs, and hugs her.

"Anywhere would be better than here," says Nona. "Dead would be better than here, for me."

"I don't remember not being suicidal," says Nona.

"If he died would you still be?"

"I guess not."

"That's good."

"I guess."

"I don't want you to die."

Nona hugs her.

"If he dies do you suppose the curse on the library will go away? There must be - better things to do with sorcery than curse girls to turn into swans."

"Maybe. I don't know."

Snuggle. "And I suppose at that point it would not be in any sense safe to try."

She laughs. "I'll try it," she offers carelessly.

"I might not," she shrugs. "And all alone out here without magic to feed us and keep us alive, we might starve anyway."

"It was a long way from the nearest civilization to here, but not so long that we couldn't walk it, even me as bad at walking as I am - I think. Of course, that assumes they'd feed us."

"I don't know if they would. And I might not die even if the door is still trapped when I try it. So I think it's worth it."

"If you didn't heal clean then even if it didn't kill you outright you could die of it after."

"Sure," she says. "But maybe one of us could learn how to fix it in between."

"Are healing spells the sort of thing that - well, I suppose they must be, my curse has one built in, so do you."

"Yeah," says Nona. "But I don't know how they work."

"Maybe they only come with unwelcome side effects."

"Maybe," shrugs Nona.

"Not that cold, I guess. The swans never seem to complain."

"Feathers are insulating. And I don't think they have a way to complain. I'm more worried about nighttime. I - would sooner not be chased indoors by the weather."

"That's good, then."

"Yeah."

"I hate him. I hate the castle," murmurs Etty.

"I know," she says. "Me too."

"You live there. I suppose he obliges you to."

"I could sleep in the orchard, but it wouldn't be far enough away to make a difference, and my bed's more comfortable."

Etty nods, shifts position, snuggles closer.

Snuggle snuggle.

"You're very cuddly."

"I like cuddling you. Cuddling you is nice," she says, cuddling her.

"That's good. It's -" Etty tries to think of words. "Feels safe." Because Nona's not going to hurt her, Nona's not going to treat her like he does, Nona only wants to hold her and is so concerned about not doing things Etty doesn't like that she extracted a promise on the subject.

...Nona beams.

"Now the curse is happy again," laughs Etty softly.

"Good. I'm glad. I'm glad it feels safe," she says, snuggling Etty some more.

"...He didn't say."

"It'd be easier to kill him right away if I could do it when you're not around. Or maybe when he's sleeping," she says.

"That makes sense. Maybe even I could kill him in his sleep. But I'd have a harder job timing it than you would, considering."

"Yeah."

"Do you think you can, now? If it doesn't stick - if you don't mean it right - and he hears you -"

"I'll only do it if I'm sure I mean it and I'm sure he can't hear me."

"Okay."

Yes.

"I could - if I know when you're going to do it - stand in view of his window?" Etty suggests slowly. "...Or you could come in while I'm. There."

"I don't know if I could see you from his window," she says. "And I don't know how to safely check."

"I can look out the window while I'm there, see what parts of the outside it frames," says Etty. "...But your eyes wouldn't be adjusted to moonlight, would they."

She shakes her head.

"So you might not be able to see me even if I stood in just the right place."

She nods.

"So - next time he takes me - if you think you can - then, you can come in after. He always falls asleep when he's through with me," shivers Etty.

Etty nods and tucks her head under Nona's chin and sobs once.

Nona hugs her.

"I'm afraid I'll get used to it. I'm afraid that I won't."

"I don't know if you will," says Nona. "I did, a little."

"If I do, then, maybe it will be less - immediately unpleasant - but it would feel like giving up," Etty whispers.

Nona hugs her.

Hugs.