A/N: Hello all! Sorry this is taking so long. Finals are not fun. Here's chapter three of five of Broken Crown, Dented Scepter. This chapter's more explanation-like and detailed. Sorry if it bores you, I just felt like some more character development was needed.
What will happen to Macbeth? Will he ever find true love?
And why am I asking questions when I really should be getting on to the writing?
Anyways, enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters. Nope. They're Shakespeare's.
Broken Crown, Dented Scepter
The Aftermath of Murder
"All hail the new king!"
"All hail!"
A chorus of cheers rose from the crowd surrounding the thickly robed and gilded man, all except for a single figure, stoic and silent in presence. He was not happy at all with the new choice of king. How could Macbeth, the one who so obviously murdered Duncan, take the throne? What kind of treasonous, disloyal country was this?
"Macduff! The kingly procession has been over for hours. Where have you been?" A voice called out from behind the man.
The distraught voice belonged to Malcolm, brother (1) of the late king. The shock of yellowed curly hair was similar, but the pale skin was dotted with freckles due to hours in the sun battling alongside Macduff.
"I've been right here," the elder man called back behind him. Oh was a mess they were in. Macbeth would most certainly not make a good king, what with his murderous mind and all. Raising his wizened hands to his face, he mused aloud what would become of them. "We'll probably all be killed under suspicion or somesuch nonsense."
"What are you rambling about now? You know this isn't the time to be going senile."
"I'm not," he barked back harshly, mahogany hair flying in his face. "I'm contemplating all the horrid things that are most surely going to become of us once Macbeth realized we knew that he killed Duncan."
Malcolm held back a flinch at his brother's name. "Come, we can't dwell on that now. We've truly got to get out of here to plan his dethroning. Macbeth shant be king for long.
"I won't leave. If I'm gone, there's no telling what the tyrant will do. I must stay." Macduff stood, rooted to the spot, immobile. "You go, make sure he doesn't kill you too. But I'm not moving."
"Suit yourself. I just hope that next time I see you, you're not in a coffin too," Malcolm remarked solemnly to his comrade, gliding down the flights of stone steps and out the door to parts unknown.
"I'll make sure it's not."
/
Macduff sighed, dragging fingers through his mat of brown hair. What a conundrum. A murderous failure for a king. What was Scotland coming to? While he was pondering just how the Scottish downfall would occur, an idea struck him. An idea, which, if executed perfectly, would certainly make sure that Macbeth would never seize the throne again.
The whipping wind was beginning to numb his tanned face; he had been on top of the castle since Macbeth's ceremony- several hours ago. He quickly decided that it would be most wise to take solace inside the castle where it wasn't freezing cold. As he was descending the stone steps, a familiar figure entered his field of vision. It was the king himself, making this the perfect time to begin the first step of his plan.
"Your highness," he addressed the man courteously.
"What do you want?" Macbeth replied snappishly.
"Merely to ask if I might reside in your castle for the next week or so."
"Why?"
"There seems to be a few structural problems at mine, resulting in my constantly feeling close to frozen. I figure it would be best if one of Scotland's best wasn't frozen in a block of ice, don't you?" Macduff stated nonchalantly.
"Alright. But you better stay out of my way."
"Of course, Sire." As he passed by Macbeth, he raised a hand to lightly skim over the side of the royal's face. "I'm looking forward to it."
Step one had begun.
Okay. It was a boring chapter, I know. Please, please don't kill me? I like my life!
Oh, and now that it's summer, I'll be able to update a lot more. Hooray!
And the last two chapters will be longer, I promise. I know they've been really short so far.
Bye!
- Meredith