Work Text:
He was a great man in the sight of his master and highly regarded,
because through him the LORD had given victory to Aram.
He was a valiant soldier, but he had leprosy.
-2 Kings 5:1 (NIV)
She is very young when they kill her parents.
She doesn't remember much, later. Her mother crying. Hiding in the dark. Screams. Blood in her mouth. Shackles on her wrists.
The rest dissolves into weeping and fever, and when next her memory returns, she is a servant. There was a war, and her people were subjected. She is a subject, and she does not question it. There is little else she knows, except the way the others whisper after dark.
Her mistress is fair to her, and sometimes kind. Sometimes, she gives her a piece of sweet fruit, and they smile at each other. The household is wealthy and comfortable and large.
Of her master Naaman, she does not know much. The other servants speak of him with awe, or perhaps fear. He is tall, and brash. Brusque when he speaks to her mistress, though over time, he comes to her less and less.
He has leprosy, one of the others says. The rest look away, purse their lips. Smile.
She catches glimpses of him sometimes, through doorways. His body curls in misery, and his voice is harsh.
Her mistress frets, when they are alone. She worries about her children and her household. She worries about food, and the worn thread at the hem of her garments.
She keeps a bright smile on her face for the rest, but when they are alone, she quavers.
Her master Naaman has been secluded for weeks, when something finally occurs to her.
She hands her mistress the rings for her ears, and watches the firm line of her jaw. When finished with her task, she stays after her dismissal. Keeps her eyes on the floor, and tries not to clench her fingers.
Her mistress notices her, finally, and clears her throat. "Yes?" she asks. She sounds impatient.
She takes a deep breath, and then another. Her mistress raises her eyebrow, and she bites her lip. "If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria," she blurts out.
Her mistress frowns. "Prophet? For what reason?"
"They say..." She wrings her hands together, and steps forward in hope. "I'm sure the prophet could cure him of his leprosy."
Her mistress snorts, and waves her away.
A caravan is being prepared, and the other servants are whispering.
They look at her, and look at her, until finally she asks why.
When her master Naaman departs for Samaria, she stands in the courtyard.
Her mistress puts a hand on her shoulder, and together, they watch him ride away.