The first thing she knows is something soft beneath her skin. She has no words for what the softness is, or what the things she sees are. But - consciousness. There is, suddenly, something, rather than nothing. It feels sweet. A human might describe it as the first breath of air after a long time underwater - but she would not have those words for many years to come.
There is a man in long robes kneeling over her, with two fingers pressed to her forehead. She can feel the soft warmth against her skin.
She doesn't know how to form the question, but she shifts, just barely, eyelids blinking -
Words spill past her.
"It's waking up." It's a man's voice, low but proud, triumph in his tones
"Beautiful," breathes another low voice. And she knows a low, soft heat in her, lower in her body - this is her, this stretch of enchanted porcelain, she can wiggle her toes. Those are toes? How does she know they're toes?
A man parts the silk curtains, and comes into the room. He wears a simple tunic and breeches, of fine silk but spurning ornamentation. His smile is soft and genuine. "She's finally here."
She?, she wonders - and then she realizes that that word means her.
"My dearest Isabel," he says, and he takes her hand and raises it to his lips and kisses it. "Can you hear me?"
She blinks, porcelain eyelids fluttering, and sits up halfway on the pile of pillows. His words stir a - hunger in her that she doesn't know how to name - but her thoughts are all confusion. "I - yes. I'm Isabel?"
He nods seriously. "You're Isabel. And I'm Maxwell. They rhyme, you see? Because -" and his finger flicks to her chin, raises it a fraction of an inch. "We were made for each other." He turns to the other man. "Leave us."
The man in robes shifts back and stands. "It'll need instruction. Help navigating this new world."
Maxwell nods. "I'll give it to her. You're dismissed. That's an order."
"Yes, my lord." The man in robes steps out through the veil of silk, and disappears.
Isabel looks down at her hand, held in Maxwell's. Though they look similar, they're - different - one is porcelain and one is flesh -
"Am I... like you?" Isabel tilts her head.
Maxwell shakes his head. "No, Isabel. You're very special. You... I've done my best to give you safety."
"Safe-ty?" Isabel blinks. "What does that mean?"
"It means being protected from things that would harm you." He digs his nail lightly into the porcelain 'skin' of Isabel's hand, and she winces.
"Ow!" She pulls her hand away. "Why did you do that?"
He smiles slightly. "Because you need to understand that not all things in the world are good. There are dangerous things out there - but I've done my best for you, my darling, to make you safe from them. I've given you a body that has no need to eat or breathe or drink or sleep, that will not age, that's proof against disease and infestation... but let's not linger on such things."
At the words "my darling", a soft shiver runs down Isabel's spine, and she bites the inside of her lip and exhales. "I... I want to know everything," she says. "I want to understand what this world is like. Even if it's like how my skin feels when you dig your nails into it."
"That's called pain," Maxwell says, "and it serves a purpose. When you feel pain, it tells you not to do the thing that caused it again. It has other uses, as well... But that's the primary one."
Isabel smiles, then. "Pain. Will you teach me about nice things as well as hurtful ones?"
Maxwell smiles, and his hand slides down Isabel's side. "Of course I will. I would love to teach you all about the best things in the world." His thumb rests on her hip. "Is it okay if I do something that feels good, the way that pain feels bad?"
Isabel nods eagerly. "Of course!"
Maxwell nods, and his fingers slip in between Isabel's thighs. He strokes slowly across her molded clitoris, and she shudders and tenses beneath his touch. Instinctively, she clings to him. "A-ah!"
"One of the best things in the world," he says, "is called sex. And I would love to teach you it."
She presses in against him. "Please, teach me."
"Good girl."
The words hit her like lightning, flooding her with happiness and warmth. Instinctively, she grinds against his hand. "M-maxwell!"
"Needy, too..." He smiles. "Well. Let's learn together."