first Bible fic--resplendent
Title: resplendent
Fandom: the Bible
Character: David
Prompt: 047: Heart
Word Count: 998
Rating: PG-13-ish
Author's Notes: David and the ark.

David danced before the LORD with all his might; David was girded with a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the LORD with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet.

As the ark of the LORD came into the city of David, Michal daughter of Saul looked out of the window, and saw King David leaping and dancing before the LORD, and she despised him in her heart.

2 Samuel 6:14-16, NRSV

They have been on the road for days, just now reaching Jerusalem, and David will not go near it.

The men whisper, worry, stare at it with wide frightened eyes, muttering that even their king is afraid of the ark, telling tales of the multitudes it has killed, of Uzzah who, faithful servant, reached out and steadied it when the oxen jolted, and how the divine hand reached down and he was dead right there beside the ark of God.

They are all afraid. And so is David, but not of divine wrath.

He imagines the death, daily. Nightly. The hand of the Lord reaching down to strike him, his heart bursting in a flaming glory as he laid his hand on the ark of God.

His hand. His hand laid on the ark of God, which houses the tablets inscribed by the Lord’s own fingers. Handed to Moses. How the prophet survived, David does not know.

He is not afraid of the Lord. He is afraid that were he to come within reach of such a death, he could not stop himself from taking it.

He will not give up his kingship, will not give up his wives and his subjects and Jerusalem—O Jerusalem, the city of David—for early death, leaving Israel to fall to pieces behind him. His sons are children and will be slaughtered. His people are restless and will not be appeased. He has so many more years to spend in his city, ruling his people.

He will not touch it.

When he heard of Uzzah’s death, he sent the ark to Obed-edom, and closed his ears to the whispers of cowardice. He could not risk it, the holy ark resting in a tent so close. Three months he kept it there, until he could no longer let the household of Obed-edom prosper so, no longer allow them to grow so powerful when it might be his household, his kingdom prospering—his city, rich and full—his hand, reaching out—

He clenches his fists. They are almost to Jerusalem. He will order Nathan to set the ark in a tent, and have a great ceremony, and there will be music and rejoicing. He will stay in full view of his people. He could not sacrifice himself such with the city watching. His city. He would not betray them thus, in plain sight.

See, there are the city walls. The sentries are calling, the people will gather. The ark of the Lord! The king brings the ark of the Lord to the city, the Lord will reside in Jerusalem.

The day is hot, burning. He opens his robe. He can hear the celebrations already, whether in the distance or in his mind only. His muscles are vibrating with the need to move, to dash back and throw himself on top of the house of God, let his heart flow over with the Lord’s glory and holy wrath, die in a burst of flame and be brought by His own hands to rest by His side.

The gate comes closer. He can hear the rejoicing; it is not just his imagination. The people have been waiting, they knew the day was coming, they have made preparations, and now the city swells with music, laughing, shouting.

He clears his throat. “Sound the trumpet.”

The call rings out, clear and true, and the noise swells as the city gates swing slowly open. The procession glides through, trumpet calling, and the people surround them.

They are shouting, laughing. The ark is given a wide berth, a sacred circle, but they press right up to David’s guards, reaching up to him, calling for the king, calling for the Lord.

He wants—

He doesn’t. He won’t. He watches his people instead, watches the music and the dancing—oh, the dancing. Lithe bodies moving in the street, moving for the glory of the Lord, moving for the desire to move, moving for each other and for God and for him, for the king to see and take joy in.

He needs to move, or he will be off this chariot and back past the oxen to the ark, expiring in the heat of the Lord’s anger.

The robe slips from his shoulders as his feet hit the ground; Joab is shouting something behind him but David can’t hear it; all he can hear is the people, and the whisper of the Lord from oh just behind him, so easy to go back and touch—

He listens to the people. He can hear the Lord through the people.

His robe has fallen off. He stands before his city naked but for his loincloth, slicked in sweat and poised to move. He hears the nearest swell of music, waits—waits—and with the downbeat, he sets his foot down and begins to dance.

The people roar, unbearable. He spins, his feet stepping somehow rightly, perfectly, too fast for his mind to follow, dancing for the glory of the Lord. The voices beyond the guards merge, swell, calling for him; he moves between two guards and is suddenly surrounded. Their hands reach for him, and he stamps his feet and slips, sweat-slick, through the outstretched fingers.

All the music he can hear has suddenly tuned to him, become part of him, as the crowd gives way before him and the people touch him as he passes. He closes his eyes. He does not need to touch the ark. His heart will burst only from this. David, David, my king, David, David, I see you, David, I love you, David, my king.

There are places beyond this, people beyond this, Joab who will yell, face set with fear, of assassinations and dangers—Michal who will grit, face set with anger, of humiliation and dignity—but he dances for the Lord among his people, and the Lord’s heart rests here, in his own city, and he doesn’t even know how to come to a stop.

fin