Pretend with me for a moment, if you will, that Lennox survived to the end of the play. (Actually, I don't remember if he did or didn't, but I seem to remember suddenly realizing that Lennox had died somewhere in the middle. Anyone have a copy of Macbeth to check with? I don't.) Anyway, this is yet another Macbeth fanfiction that my English teacher had us write. Again, perfect score-I'm doing something right, evidently.
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. Well... this laptop is. And the writing below. But not the characters. Or the website. Or you. Um. Nobody really came here to read my babbling, so read on and hopefully tell me what you think!
(Also: It's in the same format as my other Macbeth piece. Hopefully it's not too annoying.)
Macbeth killed Duncan.
(he killed my king)
(he killed my king and my king's guard)
(he killed my king and blamed my king's sons)
(killed my king killed my king killed my king)
Lennox slumps against the wall. The man guarding him—
Ross, he notes, eyes staring blankly ahead, blood congealing in his side wound
(he's dying)
(a fitting end)
(supporting a traitor)
—shifts uncomfortably.
"Lennox," Ross says.
Lennox doesn't move, just makes a broken sound.
(Macbeth tricked me)
(killed my king killed my king killed my king)
"Lennox," Ross says again. "Wait here for me. I'll... I'll go get someone to talk to you," Ross tells him, speaking to Lennox as if he were a child.
Lennox manages to make an affirmative noise.
"Wait," he croaks. "Macbeth... Is he dead?"
"I... Just wait here, Lennox. I mean it. Stay. Here." Ross scurries off to find whomever it is he's looking for.
A brother? Lennox wonders briefly. He quickly loses interest.
If Macbeth isn't dead... Lennox suppresses a growl.
(he's a traitor a traitor a traitor)
(should be killed)
(his wife too)
(traitors traitors traitors all of them)
But if he's not dead
(hope he is)
(bloody traitor-bastard)
I want to kill him myself.
(payback for his betrayal)
(tricked me tricked me tricked me)
Ross comes back soon—
(Lennox doesn't know how long it's been. He's been busy. So many ways to kill Macbeth.)
—with another man in tow.
"Lennox," the man booms.
Who are you? Why are you so loud?
Lennox doesn't move.
"Lennox?" the man says, slightly quieter.
With a start, Lennox realizes three things.
(Macduff is alive)
(it's so quiet he isn't speaking loudly at all)
(he's going to die the wound was too great)
(...and that's okay)
"Lennox?" Macduff asks again. He crouches down. "Are you hurt?" Do you know what happened?"
Lennox shakes his head once, a jerky movement.
"No? You're not hurt? Or you don't know what happened?"
Ross has wandered off, Lennox notes dimly. Lennox turns his head towards Macduff.
"What..." Lennox licks his dry lips. He coughs, doubling forward, body shaking.
Macduff says nothing, only offers Lennox some wine, which he gulps greedily.
"What happened, Macduff?" he finally manages to ask.
"That may... take a while," Macduff hedges.
"Tell me," Lennox snarls.
Macduff leans back slightly and examines him though dark eyes.
His eyes are older than they were, Lennox sees.
(what have you done Macduff?)
(what has happened here?)
(what became of the mad traitor-king?)
"Is Macbeth dead?" Lennox demands. "Did someone kill the bastard?"
"Le-"
NO, MACDUFF, TELL ME! TELL ME NOW!
"Just tell me! Is. He. Dead."
The words vibrate in the air. The bloodstain spreads under Lennox's jacket. Macduff. I have to know his fate before I die. Can I be the one to kill him?
...Won't live that long.
"Yes, Lennox. Macbeth is dead. I killed him. Duncan's son Malcolm (do you remember Malcolm, Lennox?) is to be the King of Scotland," Macduff says, eyes now fixed on the stain on Lennox's shirt.
Oh. It must be visible to him now.
"When I asked you about being wounded-" Macduff begins.
"Oh, it's too late for me," Lennox tells him airily, like it's not important.
(he's going to die)
(oh god he's so so scared)
(what if he ends up in Hell for his treason against his king and his country?)
(what if he sees Macbeth?)
(what if what if what if)
"Oh, Lennox..." Macduff says weakly.
"Thank you," Lennox says, tears springing to his eyes. He feels the bone-penetrating chill of death in the air. "Thank you for riding with me to Inverness, thank you for not killing me, thank you, thank you, thank you."
"Lennox," Macduff starts.
Lennox looks at him, darkness blurring the rim of his vision. "Yes?" he slurs.
"You're welcome, Lennox. And... it's over. You have fulfilled your duties to your king and your country." As Macduff releases Lennox from his perceived duties, something like a sigh is released, and Lennox's head slumps towards his chest. "My dear friend," Macduff says sadly. "You performed your duties well." Macduff hauls himself up, and looks at Lennox's body. "Godspeed, my friend. Godspeed."
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