User:JohnB/Fanfiction/The "Princess"

By JohnB

Introduction:

During their first meeting in Ald’ruhn, JohnB advised Yumiya to make her life from here on because everything prior to her imprisonment was a complete blank to her. While this stop-gap advice was suitable at the time, the arrival of "John-John" (Yumiya’s term of endearment) from another time and dimension threw the quest against Dagoth Ur into utter chaos. He had the Moon-and-Star ring, so clearly he was the Nerevarene. People were right in questioning what role, if any, Yumiya had to play in the quest. And it was no wonder that many suspected her of being a Sixth House spanner dropped into the inner workings of the quest to stop it from happening. Why not let this John-John gather Keening and Sunder then go finish the job himself?

Yes, he had the Moon-and-Star ring, but there were three fatal errors in this way of thinking. First, in this existence, the Moon-and-Star was still in the Cavern of the Incarnate; ergo: he had the wrong one. Second, he was going against the wrong Dagoth Ur and so was bound to fail no matter what he did. Third, and most importantly, the goddess Azura hadn’t preordained his role in this particular quest. JohnB put an effective halt to this nonsense by resetting John-John’s existence, and Caius Cosades and Yumiya effectively rebuffed the nascent leave-it-to-John movement by pointing out he no longer had the ring. However, the long-term problem, as we all know, is that a conspiracy theory, no matter how wrong-headed and counterproductive, takes on a life of its own and refuses to die a well-deserved death.

There were two things JohnB had to do: first, let the ruckus die down, during which time Yumiya would train her brother in the art of war, and second, work on establishing a pre-incarceration biography for Yumiya in order that she be more certain of who she was. Her own self-esteem was of vital importance to the success of the quest. There was no chance of his ever discovering who her parents really were, so probing into her past would have no effect on the “uncertain parentage” requirement for being the Nerevarene. Anyway, putting the quest on hold like this was the reason Emperor Uriel Septim suspected her of foot-dragging to carry it out, and the exact reason for the delay was not what Cosades deemed necessary to let him know because the emperor was already having serious second thoughts about having commissioned Yumiya. Cosades didn’t want him to get dragged into the conspiracy theory as well—what happens in Vvardenfell stays in Vvardenfell.

Cosades, for his part, did some checking and was surprised to learn that the Morag Tong had an investigative branch in its business. This was to prevent any chance of mistaken identity. No one likes being told, “You killed the wrong person!” It helped to know if it wasn’t really this person who was sleeping with the customer’s wife, and the Morag Tong stooges were very good at either clearing a name or digging up dirt. And so it was to the Morag Tong that he turned to contract a detailed investigation into Yumiya’s background. The results would then be relayed to JohnB to write up as a biography. In order that the results not be skewed in any way in her favor, all of this was done without her knowledge. She went on in her life training her brother’s fighting skills totally unaware that gumshoes were tiptoeing all around her.

Once a detail was reported to JohnB, it automatically became her memory or a basic fact that she knew about herself. For this reason, when something got reported, it often had to be done piecemeal so as not to overwhelm her as what happened when they learned the fate of her lover. Cosades felt obliged to gather all the facts first and make sure they squared with each other so as not to misinterpret an event and end up having her remember something wrong. This was a long tedious process, but John-John had to be taught from scratch how to use swords, axes, and cudgels, so the two efforts ran independently but in tandem.

What was learned:

Anyway, what the Tong spies discovered was mind-boggling. For one, King Nobunaga III may well have been her father, but her mother was certainly not one of his twelve concubines (one for each month to establish which child came from which mother) and certainly not the queen either because she was barren. The king also took a perverse delight in “borrowing” his retainers’ wives, and to prevent any confusion, there was a two-tier system: “the mine” and “the thine”; however, the children were treated equally well, and this is where Yumiya conflated being a family member and being a household member. The parcel of rogues that ultimately resulted from this arrangement began in-fighting over who took precedence over the others, but this is not what landed Yumiya in prison.

For another, yes, “Yumiya” does mean “bow-and-arrow” in their language, but it can also be understood metaphorically as “hit the bull’s eye”, i.e. find a rich, well-connected young man, which would not have been difficult as a member of a royal household—and if she played the part well. The fact is, Yumiya was a blythe wee lassie and very pretty, so she was surrounded by brothers who included her in their games. This is where she picked up her first bow and participated in their shooting contests. Her sisters would come only to watch and jeer at her if she missed the mark, but she took it all in good stride as a stimulus to do better. As a teenager, she would go roughing it alone in the woods often for weeks at a time and return with jerked venison and rabbit to share with her “family”. The first time she did this, she was taken either for dead or kidnapped and sold into slavery. A search party set out only to find her tromping up the path with a young buck slung over her shoulder.

Finally, Yumiya wasn’t “as immaculate as snow.” This image she had of herself was certainly genuine. After all, a woman knows from experience whether she’s been with a man, but Yumiya had absolutely no recollection of this, and great was her astonishment when it finally came into her head. And the way it came about was like this. King Nobunaga III maintained his household in the Imperial Capitol, first, to be close to the powers that be and, second, to be watched over by the emperor’s spies. Whether he was the rightful King of Akavir or a pretender mattered little, given that there were no serious rivals to his claim. And if he was to the House of Akavir what General Talos was to the House of Septim, this was certainly not some country bumpkin merely putting on grandiose airs. Of course, he had pledged his allegiance to Emperor Uriel Septim—but so had Helseth pledged his to King Athyn Llethan. However, being so close to the center of things was not what Yumiya wanted for herself, and her expeditions into the wilderness of the Colovian Highlands got increasingly longer until she was spending up to a month living off the land.

Yumiya disappears for good:

Nobody doubted she would return, but then suddenly, she didn’t. Unknown to Yumiya herself, there was a dashing highwayman working in that area by the name of Ereptor Vulpinis, which was not his real name because it meant “Fox Thief”. He and his band of archers terrorized the highways and byways of northern Cyrodiil, and the Sheriff of Bruma was at his wit’s end trying to stop their raids on traveling salesmen, rich travelers, and Imperial tax deliveries from the provinces. What made his job so difficult was that Vulpinis spread the largess of his plunder to orphans, widows, and homeless—the downtrodden—throughout the land. He kept only enough to maintain his bandit camp in the wilderness, and that wasn’t much because they were living off the land.

One day, Yumiya was tracking a deer when suddenly out of nowhere she was surrounded by men dressed in camouflage clothing and carrying quivers and bows.

“And what is milady doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” one strikingly handsome member of the group asked as he bowed with a flourish.

The others laughed.

“Tracking a deer.”

“Milady is tracking a deer!” he announced to the others, and they guffawed at the thought.

“And how do you know that a deer has passed through here?”

“If you hadn’t stomped all over its tracks just now, I could even tell in which direction it was going!” she responded raising her voice.

“Oh?” he smirked.

“Yes, there’s one right here, and look, there’s another,” she said pointing at the ground.

The men glanced at each other in astonishment as they could see it for themselves.

“And I suppose you know how to use that Daedric bow as well,” he added. “Because if you don’t, I would like very much to replace this yew bow with the one you have.”

“You’ll be dead before you got it,” she warned.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked as he stepped closer.

There was a flash of movement, and he suddenly realized he was bareheaded. He turned about and saw his green hat as if nailed to a tree with an iron arrow.

“Who’s next?!” Yumiya asked quickly nocking another arrow and pointing it into each of their faces.

“Master Vulpinis, what do we do?!” one of them asked terrified.

Vulpinis raised his hands and slowly stepped backwards.

“Master Vulpinis, you’re bleeding!” another shouted.

Vulpinis could feel a stream of blood creep down his forehead. He touched his hair, saw the blood on his hand, and looked at her, his eyes horror-stricken.

“You actually thought I wasn’t going to hurt you?!” she laughed sardonically.

The arrow in her bow looked like a single point, meaning she was aiming right between his eyes.

“M-m-madam, I s-s-surrender!” he sputtered.

“And these?” she asked referring to the others.

“Men, drop your weapons!”

“Master, she’s only one, and she’s only a woman!”

“I order you,” he yelled, “drop your frigging weapons, or she’ll kill us all!”

(Note: if you don't think this is possible, watch the video by Lars Andersen.)

They dropped their weapons. But the man who pointed out she was only a woman suddenly found himself hatless as well, but his had flown away somewhere into the woods. She slung her bow over her shoulder.

The Bandit Queen:

“Get down on your knees!” she ordered Vulpinis. “All of you!”

They all knelt down.

“Good, now kow-tow and beg my forgiveness!”

“Kow-tow?” Vulpinis asked uncertainly.

“It’s what people do in Akavir to keep their butts from getting kicked by a woman who is now in command!” she explained. “Hands on the ground. Good, now repeat after me, ‘Mistress Yumiya, please don’t kick our butts. We swear our allegiance to you, and may Sheogorath drive us mad if we ever disobey’!”

“Mistress Yumiya, please don’t kick our butts! We swear our allegiance to you, and may Sheogorath drive us mad if we ever disobey!”

“Good. Now stand up! You," she said to the handsome one, "what’s your name again?”

“Ereptor Vulpinis, Mistress.”

“I like ‘master’ better. If all goes well, I’ll consent to being called ‘mistress’. In the mean time, you will be my second in command,” she said making a "get-my-drift?” smile. His smile and the accompanying glint in his eye showed he liked this new arrangement.

For the men, it was just as well that they were now under new management. Yumiya was open-handed in generosity, even-handed in fairness, clear-headed in planning, and iron-fisted in control. While Vulpinis could be a joshy and flexible good-ol’-boy with his men, Yumiya brought a quasi-military method of bringing this rabble of twenty woodsmen into a single fighting unit that not only terrorized the highways and byways but also the country manors. Slaves were freed, and soon they had a Khajiit regiment and an Argonian regiment who were sworn to live free or die, each led by its own second in command.

But Vulpinis was Yumiya’s one-and-only, and he served her faithfully and well. She couldn’t be too forthcoming in showing her favor, but the time she chose finally to do so was a very bad one. The very first night they lay together in love, the camp was surrounded by the sheriff’s troops and ambushed. Vulpinis was cut down as he tried to shield her. She ran from her tent but was grabbed by some soldiers who immediately threw her to the ground and had their way with her. Later the memory was carefully returned to her in bits and pieces, but this couldn’t prevent the horrific shock. She wept all night for poor Ereptor Vulpinis, the only man she’d ever loved. And the memory of what was done to her that night was to change her forever.

The sheriff had as many of the band as were caught marched into Bruma to await their judgment and execution. The road was lined with masses of the downtrodden bewailing what had happened and shouting expressions of gratitude as soldiers pushed them away from the road.

As they entered the town, people on the rooftops showered them with garbage as they made their way to the sheriff’s palace. There they were lined up to the left of the sheriff.

“Are these the ones?” the sheriff asked.

“These are the ones,” the traitor answered. It was the man whose hat she’d shot off. “Let these others go, but do what you will with her,” he added.

“We’ll decide later what to do with them. You, bow to the sheriff and receive your reward,” an officer ordered.

He bowed his head, and the executioner lopped it off with one stroke. Slaves used rushes to mop up the blood.

“Retainers, soldiers, and gentlemen,” the sheriff announced, “you have just witnessed what happens to turncoats. Let this be a lesson to all of you.”

Yumiya was standing without any clothes on with her men.

“I’m into breaking stallions,” the sheriff told the assembled in jest. “This Bandit Queen is a lovely little dish. I’d love to break her as well.”

She soon noticed scaly and furry hands reaching to shield her body from his gaze.

An adviser standing nearby leaned over to whisper something into his ear.

“Bring the young lady”—lady?—“a robe!” the sheriff commanded.

A robe was brought and dropped at her feet. An Argonian commander stooped and picked it up for her.

“My lady, please allow me,” he said and helped her on with the robe.

No, not the bastonade!

“Gentlemen,” she addressed her troops, who were mostly Khajiiti and Argonians—the fleet-of-foot humans having mostly escaped into the forest leaving a loyal few with Yumiya and what remained of her Khajiiti and Argonian regiments, “for this is what you all are with me now, I propose to demonstrate to you that there really is justice in this world.”

Her troops glanced at each other wondering what she could possibly mean.

“Lady,” the sheriff said sensing he’d picked up a stink bomb, “it has been brought to my attention that you are a member of the House of Akavir.”

“That is correct.”

There was a murmur among the assembled.

“In that case, you will be separated from this rabble and be taken to the capitol to be judged by his Majesty the Emperor.”

“I refuse! I must first see justice on the three men who violated me tonight!”

The stink bomb just gained one kiloton in size.

“Which men?”

Yumiya glanced around as the men sensed something very terrible was going to happen. She looked for junior officers who looked as if they might have been born and raised on a country manor.

“That one, that one, and...uh...that one!”

“Seize them!” the sheriff ordered.

Cries of “It wasn’t me!” went up as the onlookers grew increasingly alarmed.

“Take them away!” the sheriff ordered.

“No,” Yumiya continued, “the bastonade, here and now! I want to hear their cries for mercy because they ignored mine!”

The sheriff blanched.

“Trust me, dear lady, I will deal with them later!”

“Trust a man after what happened to me tonight?! NEVER!”

The sheriff rolled his eyes and called for the bastonade bench to be brought in. Yumiya’s troops laughed up their sleeves at how easily this little woman commanded her enemies.

The bench was equipped with thick straps to hold the victim immobile. At one end was a T-shaped stock in which the ankles were locked. The first officer was dragged to it, strapped down, and his ankles locked in the stock with his soles facing upward.

“Three strokes!” the sheriff announced. "Gently."

"No, ten hard strokes plus one!" Yumiya called to him.

"So be it," the sheriff said languidly.

“Sorry, guy,” the executioner said to the victim, “I gotta make this hurt or she'll make him do it to me!”

The victim nodded, and the executioner placed a rolled up towel between his teeth. He then raised the cane and brought it down with a whistling crack onto his feet. The scream of agony was ear-piercing, and many onlookers, even among Yumiya’s troops, looked physically discomfited.

“One,” the executioner said and raised the cane again. There was another whistling crack.

“Two.”

By the time the executioner counted eleven, the victim was no longer conscious, and his feet were bloodied and swollen to twice their size. A stretcher was brought, and he was carried away. Some of the onlookers had fainted, and at one point the sheriff called for a spittoon because he could no longer hold his gorge.

The second junior officer broke away from the men holding him. He ran to Yumiya with tears and snot running down his face and bowed down on the floor in front of her.

“Please, lady! I didn’t do it! I swear I’ll help bring them to justice!”

A few men were seen to leave the hall in a hurry.

“The bastonade!” she said drily.

“No, NO!”

A second stretcher was carried away, and then a third.

“Lady,” the sheriff said looking a bit purple in the face, “are you satisfied now.”

“Thank you for sowing discord among your own troops!” she responded. “But before I go, I must address my loving men.

“Gentlemen,” she said turning to them again, “I must go, and I know you will soon meet your fate. Be strong! And I promise, far and wide wherever I go, I will spread your fame. Your families, your friends, everybody will say of you, ‘He was with Yumiya at the sheriff’s palace on the last day of the year!’ Thank you for your love! I will remember you and pray for you always!”

She blew them kisses left, right, and center and turned to go.

“Atten-TION!” an officer called out.

In no time, the weeping men were standing impassively in straight rows and columns, backs straight, arms at their sides.

“I wish my lazy bastards could do that!” the sheriff thought.

They all snapped their hands to their foreheads in complete unison as Yumiya left the hall.

The Emperor's Judgment:

The trial in the Imperial capitol took only two weeks because the evidence against Yumiya was plentiful and damning.

"This is what we will do with you," the emperor finally told her, "we will banish you to Vvardenfell never to return to Cyrodiil."

People have been more severely punished for much lighter crimes, so something seemed very out of kilter here.

"That's all?!" Yumiya asked, her face screwing up. "Your majesty, I would much rather be hung by the neck and then meet my troops and my lover in the great banquet beyond."

"Oh, we have no intention of disappointing you in that!" the emperor responded. "You see, you have been selected to carry out a suicide mission in Vvardenfell."

"Which is?"

"All these details still need to be worked out, during which time you will be incarcerated in the Imperial prison here. As soon as you arrive at the Census and Excise Office in Seyda Neen, you will receive written instructions to hand deliver to the head of the Blades there, and he will give you further instructions and guide you in your quest. If you succeed, you will be free to walk away, but you must remain in Vvardenfell."

"I-I still don't understand!" Yumiya protested. "Why is your Majesty being so lenient with me?"

There was a moment of silence as the emperor considered how to answer.

"There is a certain King of Akavir who petitioned for clemency in your case."

Yumiya looked at him vacantly.

"Why?"

"One might as well ask why the sun shines!" the emperor chuckled. "Anyway, this is the way the situation stands. The case is now closed. Please transfer the young lady to the Imperial prison," he said to a guard, "and see to it that she is treated well."

Yumiya felt numb as she rose from her seat and exited with the guard.