A/N: This is a story that follows the perspective of the "villainess" character in the ballet La Bayadère, Princess Gamzatti. Gamzatti is often described as wicked or evil, but I never really interpreted her as such. Really, most characters in the ballet are flawed, but Gamzatti and the Rajah are both making choices well within the values for the setting. Although Gamzatti chooses an action that modern society would regard as immoral, I'm not sold on it being unjustified.
T/W: Character death, classism, orientalism, reference to off-screen sexual activity
Characters: Gamzatti, Nikiya, Solor
Minor Characters: Rajah, High Brahmin, Handmaids (Yuthika, Chelami)
This was written for the Writers Anonymous Antagonist POV Challenge. My interpretation of Gamzatti's character is heavily influenced by Dame Darcey Bussell's performance in Natalia Makarova's staging of La Bayadère with the London Royal Ballet in 1990. This story's Nikiya is primarily inspired by Natalia Osipova's performance when she was with the Bolshoi Theatre.
Scene 1: Seeds of Tragedy
Happily ever after was within reach for Gamzatti, daughter of the Rajah, princess of Golconda. The handsome war hero had initially been averse, but all his protests died on his lips the moment he'd set eyes on her unveiled face.
Solor fell in love with the princess at first sight, the people would someday say.
Even after all these years, she still takes his breath away - so deep in love with the princess is he, an imaginary crone regaled her grandchildren in Gamzatti's mind's eye.
A demure smile appeared on her porcelain face, but flitted away a moment after as Gamzatti heard the High Brahmin address the Rajah. Over her handmaid Yuthika's objections, the princess lingered in the shadows of the entryway, trying to make out the conversation.
"... Solor has sworn eternal love to the temple dancer Nikiya."
Gamzatti stifled a gasp unbecoming of her status.
"A temple dancer?" Her father scoffed. "That is of no consequence."
"Sire, he has sworn his love over the sacred flames."
Her father was silent for a deafening minute.
"Have you seen our princess? No lowly temple dancer, however pretty, could ever hope to compare." Though she could not see him, Gamzatti could visualise her father waving aside the High Brahmin's concerns the same dismissive way he used to wave away her childhood nightmares.
The High Brahmin must have tried to rebut the statement; the Rajah's next words held a tone of finality. "If the temple dancer proves troublesome, we can simply dispose of her."
Gamzatti exhaled. So Solor had vowed to love another. He was a great warrior with a flair for the dramatic; he was hardly the only man to be prone to grand gestures.
She allowed Yuthika to lead her back to her chambers, her mind racing.
Yes, Solor would certainly be faithful - the look in his eyes the moment her father had removed her veil was proof enough of that.
And if the temple dancer would be upset - well, that was certainly understandable.
But the other woman surely didn't need to die. Gamzatti simply needed to explain the changed circumstances.
Scene 2: Lotus Unfurling
Gamzatti quickly assessed the temple dancer bowing before her. The dancer was certainly pleasing enough to behold - unsurprising she would catch a young man's eye.
"So. You are the one who will dance for my betrothal fête."
"It is my great honour to celebrate your auspicious union."
Gamzatti smiled, relieved. The woman's answer suggested she knew her place.
"Tomorrow Solor and I will do our ganesh puja, and pray to the gods for favour on our wedding - " Gamzatti began.
"Solor?" Nikiya interrupted.
The outburst annoyed Gamzatti, but she kept her face even. "Yes. Solor. The hero."
"That cannot... be… That cannot be!" Nikiya was insistent - indignant, even - all reverence for Gamzatti's social standing forgotten. "Solor has sworn over the sacred flames to love me!"
The princess took a deep breath. "I graciously understand that Solor's betrayal of his vows must wound you. But he has willingly accepted the marriage. Of his own volition."
"You must have spoken poison of me into his ears." The temple dancer's poise had all but vanished, and inappropriate tears started to leave her eyes.
"I have done nothing of the sort," Gamzatti snapped, more haughtily than she had intended, her patience having worn thin. "All I had to do was show my face, and his heart was won."
"N-no..."
"Yes, it's true." Her voice was soft once more. "It isn't your fault, but it's true. Solor and I will be wedded, with or without your blessing. Gracefully step aside and you will be taken care of."
Nikiya took a step back, only half processing Gamzatti's words.
"You will be allowed to luxuriate in the palace - another one if you prefer not to see Solor and me together - with handmaids waiting on your every need."
"But…"
"Diamonds!" Gamzatti's eyes fell on her jewellery box on the vanity beside the dancer. With a few quick strides, she flew across the room. She reached a hand in and held a fistful of gold filigree flowers, bangles, and chains before the other woman's face. "Diamonds and sapphires and emeralds beyond your wildest dreams!"
Nikiya shook her head in small, quick motions, but weakly propped herself up on the vanity with one arm; Gamzatti triumphantly noted the longing in her eyes, the wavering of her heart. Diamonds were perhaps trite in Golconda, but the exotic grape garnet necklace clearly captured the dancer's attention - as it would anyone's.
"You will both enjoy a higher status than you could ever have hoped for." Gamzatti prayed to any deity who would hear her that this - the prospect of lifelong comfort for every unfortunate soul involved - would sway Nikiya to her side for good.
With her other hand, she rifled through her jewellery case. "Here." Gamzatti pulled out a gold vanki decorated entirely with the grape garnets that were key to winning her rival. The armlet had been a gift from the Rajah of Orissa, a treasured symbol of a centuries-old alliance. She was disinclined to wantonly trade it away, but if it would resolve the issue of Nikiya painlessly, Gamzatti was willing to part with the vanki.
Nikiya adored the grape garnet vanki - that much was certain.
Gamzatti watched Nikiya's free hand waver, towards her and then back; watched as Nikiya's eyes darted to the rest of the jewellery. Sorely tempted. For a split second, she wondered if she should offer the entire box. She kept only her favourites in her chamber, but Gamzatti certainly did not value baubles over harmony in the palace.
She had no more than a split-second to recall that her late mother's kada bracelets lay at the bottom of the box; and that of course she could never give those away.
In a flash, the hand Nikiya had used to support herself against the vanity had found a dagger on the vanity, its jewel-encrusted hilt having camouflaged it among Gamzatti's other trinkets.
Gamzatti grabbed at Nikiya's wrist with both hands, desperately fighting with her entire being to keep the dagger away. With all the strength she could muster, she flung Nikiya by her wrist to the side.
She wasted no time waiting to see the dancer fall. Nikiya was too close to the door, so Gamzatti fled for her balcony instead. The adjacent balcony on one side wasn't too far - surely she could make the jump. It would be better than dying from a dagger to the hea -
In her haste, Gamzatti stepped on the hem of her lehenga and crashed to the floor.
No.
Her vision had already begun to swim when she turned to see Nikiya advancing on her, half-hysterical, with her eyes equally wet.
Is this… how it ends? Seventeen years, and now the cycle of rebirth pulls me away? Gamzatti thought, as the blurry figure before her lifted the dagger high.
"No!"
Nikiya was struggling against someone - that much Gamzatti could make out. She wiped her unsightly tears to find both Yuthika and Chelami restraining the temple dancer in tandem. Both handmaids were born daughters of nobility; like many others with the same plight, they had entered Gamzatti's employ when they were deemed too undesirable to make marriages of appropriate social standing for their birth. And yet, at this moment, both seemed to Gamzatti to be more beautiful than celestial apsaras.
Gamzatti saw the temple dancer's visage change, from blinding anger and pained fury to dawning horror; saw the woman turn to stare, disbelieving, at the dagger in her own hand.
Nikiya dropped the dagger. Yuthika's hold loosened for a moment upon hearing the clatter of the dagger on the ground; that moment was enough. Nikiya struck Chelami in the stomach with her elbow and slipped from both handmaid's grasps. With only a single glance back towards Gamzatti, Nikiya vanished from the chamber.
Shaken, Gamzatti buried her face in Chelami's chest as the handmaid gently soothed her.
"She tried to kill me," Gamzatti eked out, still in disbelief. "I tried to save her and this is how she repays me!"
After some time - minutes or hours, it made no difference - Gamzatti reached a finger to the tip of the dagger. It was an ornament that had never seen any battlefield, but it was indeed sharp. Gamzatti had been inches from death.
Composing herself, Gamzatti stood, pulling Chelami and Yuthika up with her. Almost as friends. "There is no other way."
Gamzatti had tried to be the merciful princess her mother had taught her to be. But she knew now what she must do.
Scene 3: Blooming Lotus
Garlands of crimson roses and mandarin marigolds hung from every inch of the palace. Servants had adorned every room in vibrant reds and golds, but it was the delicate silk canopy under which the final ceremony would soon be performed that most tugged at Gamzatti's heart.
To be loved by a wonderful man had long been her dream. Solor promised to be the perfect husband, vowing before anyone at the banquet who would listen how he would cherish her until the day they would be reborn on another lotus.
The guests were happy, the bride and groom even happier; and there was only one ceremony left before they were officially married.
From one end of the hall, there was a stir. The whispers persisted, and Gamzatti grew concerned behind her smile.
Finally, Nikiya emerged from the crowd. Her veil and lehenga were pointedly the very colour of the Orissa grape garnets Gamzatti had tried to tempt her with, and she made no effort to hide her unhappiness as she announced, "Princess. I, the temple dancer Nikiya, have been tasked with celebrating your nuptials with my dance. I present my blessings to you now."
Gamzatti waved her assent with trepidation. Nikiya had agreed to dance at the Rajah's behest; she had merely come to fulfil that order. It would be an insult to her father to refuse his gift for all to see.
She regretted the choice immediately. Nikiya's dance was not one of joy or love or celebration. No, Nikiya expressed her anguish in every step, every articulation of her limbs. All of her accusations were hurled toward Solor. Beyond the choice of lehenga, Nikiya didn't even acknowledge Gamzatti in her dance; Nikiya could have lost Solor to any common girl at all.
Pursing her lips, Gamzatti made eye contact with Yuthika.
She regretted it, a small voice within Gamzatti insisted. She could have overpowered Yuthika and Chelami; she stopped herself. She was crying too. She didn't mean it!
Gamzatti ignored the voice and made the faintest of nods. It has to be done. Present her the flower basket.
Once a servant offered the flower basket to Nikiya, everything fell into place. The temple dancer proclaimed to the entire hall that Solor still loved her and her alone, and that the flowers were proof of his love; Nikiya was blind to the fact that Solor had not looked at her once.
Gamzatti held her breath just as Nikiya pressed her face into the flowers and inhaled deeply. She kept her poise as Nikiya screamed when the viper sank its fangs into her neck.
Solor is troubled, Gamzatti mused that night, as Chelami applied her bridal mehndi. He had chosen her over her would-be killer; and yet he mourned the temple dancer, whether he would admit it or not.
"Yuthika. Summon Solor to my bedchambers tonight."
Gamzatti felt Chelami pause her painstaking application of the henna paste.
"Princess, you mustn't."
"I am left with no choice!"
Scene 4: Petals in the Mud
Gamzatti glanced at Solor. The canopy of layered silks they knelt under gave the illusion of being in a sukhāvatī of champagne-coloured clouds, overlooked by a great bronze statue of Amitābha. They were safe and at peace, far away from any careless, impure promises Solor made to other women.
The fiery garlands of roses and marigolds were fragrant without being overpowering. Yet even they could not erase the stinging copper of the blood spilt in her bedchambers the previous night.
She wore extra gold bangles to cover the bruises left on her moon-white arms; Chelami worked through the night to redo the mehndi without complaint. Gamzatti had been warned to expect small marks on her skin from the heat of passion, but she knew it had been wrong - all of it. His eyes had looked right through her all night, his mind elsewhere as he brusquely deflowered her in silence.
Even now, he would not meet her gaze - a stark contrast to a week ago, when he could not bear to tear his eyes away as he called her a living apsara in a sultry voice.
She had lost him.
A/N: Thank you for reading! It took me a long time to learn to sympathise with Nikiya, but I now believe that only the High Brahmin was truly wicked, while the other characters are all shades of grey.
