AN: Now this..., this thing resulted from an assignment for the ever wonderful play Macbeth that I had in 7th grade. I hope it is enjoyable. I also hope that you know I am not Shakespeare, and that I also do not own Macbeth.
Warning: Might be innaccurate due to my tendency to miss things, but I hope it does not affect it drastically
They set foot to Dunsinane, Birnam Wood within their grasp, shielding their overwhelming numbers, and also, though they were not aware of the fact, disabling the invincibility of their target, their target being Macbeth, the Thane of Glamis, of Cawdor, King of Scotland. But he did not receive the latter title truthfully.
And that is the very reason they they are marching, all with a same goal, each soldier with a look of determination, knowing their life may end at the castle which they venture for, but knowing that their deaths will be heroic, and towards the death of a sovereign king, the death of Macbeth.
Macduff leads with certain confidence, Lennox, Siward, and Ross trailing behind. With branches of Birnam and a common goal of revenge, they marched on.
They had reached the entrance, immediately going into battle as fighters of Macbeth charged at them from all directions, though they were not loyal, most of them being hired murderers.
Macduff had looked towards the soldiers, towards Siward, Lennox, and Ross, towards all of them. "All of you! Fight these murders, I shall seek revenge!"
The soldiers still charged on with a looming thought that said 'We are aware of what he has done to your family; however we will not forgive what he has done to Scotland. Our Scotland. We will fight with you.'
Macduff looked back worriedly, but continued on, towards to where his target would be. The cold-hearted Macbeth.
He had walked by many lifeless bodies, those of his own force, and those of his enemies. Rage burned in his eyes as he continued, looking for the tyrant, looking for the one who had caused such tragedy, looking for the one so sovereign with greed, looking for the one who usurped to be king, looking for Macbeth.
He looked down at the lifeless faces, the blood, the wounds, all of them being received in the front, showing true bravery. He looked down and saw the face of young Siward, and grimaced. '…A boy so young, why must his life be ended in such a circumstance?'
He looked at the wound the teenage boy received, seeing that it had been from the front and not the back, and sighed with relief. 'So he died with no cowardice, did he? He sacrificed himself, how truly honorable. Rest in peace young Siward, your father will be proud.' A sad smile was now upon Macduff's face as he looked at the resting body, but it quickly left as a chuckling was heard and footsteps were sounded.
He slowly raised himself from his kneeling position, anger and rage returning to him, but his expression stony.
"Macduff, what a surprise. I had not even invited you but you let yourself in, even after not coming to my crowning. How disrespectful!"
"Macbeth, you scum…"
"Now you are insulting me? How even more disrespectful! Do you wish the removal of your head?" Though his words seemed teasing, Macbeth's voice held no emotion, as if he had disregarded all meaning of life.
Macduff readied himself in a fighting position, his stance firm, his face not in the least inching away from its stony state, rage in his eyes. He yelled at the despised person before him. "Fight me Macbeth! You have caused direct harm to my kin, harm to all of Scotland, and I shall let you do no further!" Macduff had proclaimed angrily at his opponent, plans of revenge and anger seething in his eyes.
Macbeth had stepped back, remembering the first of the witch's apparitions. 'Beware of Macduff!' He was worried, afraid, but those feeling disappeared as he remembered the following two apparitions. 'No man born of woman can harm Macbeth!' 'Macbeth shall not be harmed unless Birnam wood comes to Dunsinane!' He then smirked, readying his sword.
"Macduff, did you not see the Young Siward? A brave boy he was, but he stood no chance. No one stands a chance. I shall not be harmed unless Birnam wood comes to Dunsinane, I cannot be harmed by any man born of woman! I am invincible! Now Macduff, do you still wish to battle, knowing these truths?"
Macduff cringed at Macbeth's madness and coldness in his words, evaluating their meanings in his mind. "Birnam to Dunsinane?' Macduff smirked, reminding himself of the branches taken to shield the soldiers. 'It seems that you can be harmed Macbeth. 'Born of woman?' Macduff found himself puzzled at the statement, but replied to Macbeth firmly.
"It seems as if you can be harmed, you tyrant. It may seem as if we are little, but we are merely hiding our numbers, with branches of Birnam wood."
Macbeth gained a fearing expression on his face, but it quickly disappeared. "That does not matter, for no man born of woman may harm me! Now I hope you are prepared Macduff, for I shall charge!"
Macbeth ran towards Macduff, thrusting his sword quickly at his nave, only to be stopped by the sword of his opponent. With a frustrated look, he continued to slash at the loyal soldier, being denied of contact each time. Macduff fought back, cutting through skin on Macbeth's hands and face, causing blood to flow. Caught up in his frustration, Macbeth hesitated, which had been a mistake on his part, for Macduff, with quick precision, had slashed him in the side, disabling his movement, paralyzing him.
For Macbeth did not know that Macduff had been irregularly born, but had been ripped from his mother's womb in a cesarean section. Macduff could harm Macbeth.
"Macbeth, what led you to such actions? What could have possibly happened which made an honorable soldier turn to greed? Tell me, as those will be your last words."
Macbeth was limp on his knees, blood flowing from his side and streaming down from his lips. He opened his mouth slightly and spoke. "The...witches-" He had started up a rough coughing fit, hacking out blood as he suffered.
Macduff looked at the now pitiful, yet greedy man, and raised his sword.
"Macbeth, I shall kill you as traitors are. Beheaded and shown to all, and with that hope you regret your decisions."
As Macbeth's life started thinning, Macduff swiftly made a slash, separating the tyrant's neck from the rest of his body, and holding it up by the hair.
He looked at its dead eyes intently, with a bit of sorrow.
"The witches..."
Siward, Lennox, and Ross had been in his presence, and were now looking at the scene before them.
"Macduff..." They all said.
Macduff turned to them, the head still in hand as he raised it up.
"This, my fellow soldiers, is the head of a traitor and tyrant,"
He paused and closed his eyes, only to open them back up again.
"…a tyrant that is no more."
He stared intently at them, and then gave a small sigh and smile of relief.
"May peace now be upon Scotland."
I can't believe I actually wrote that.
But that hardly matters; what does matter, is your opinion.
Was the spelling and grammar acceptable? Did my characterization fit the personalities of the characters? Was my horrible description of a fight scene jarring? Was this tidbit enjoyable?
Please review. c: