Small notes:
1. I don't own Hetalia.
2. There were at least four conflicting sources about the abdication ceremony of King Bao Dai (one told by a Hue observer, one by Huy Can, one by Bao Dai himself, and one posted on a government website). I went along with the most plausible anecdote.
3. The political view that Vietnam held in this small fanfiction does /not/ necessarily reflect my political belief.
4. Ngo Mon (Ngọ Môn) can be roughly translated into the Gate of Noon, the main gate lying within the citadel of Hue.
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Hue - August 30th, 1945
Vietnam's delegation were greeted by dins of claps and applause as soon as they came near Ngo Mon.
The torrid weather in August did nothing to hamper the gathering in celebration of King Bao Dai's abdication of the throne. Despite the stuffy ambience, rich vivid sun rays gave expression to the radiance of people's joy. Laughter blared from their surroundings and mingled with the excited chatters of Hue citizens. Amidst thousands of people, her delegation's car had to inch its way to the Ngu Phung Pavilion.
Vietnam could almost taste excitement in the air – something she had not seen for decades in this quiet, serene capital of Annam. It provided her with a felicitously-timed relief from the wretched and painful situation she had experienced in the north. Months ago, Northern Vietnam had experienced one of the most fatal famines in the century, witnessing a death toll that reached millions. Even though the famine had been over, the memory of the disaster was fresh on her mind, and she could not help but remember the omnipresence of corpses everywhere she went.
"Miss Vietnam." She turned around at the mention of her name. "May I ask why you are here with us? You could have stayed back in Hanoi to help Uncle Ho finish his Declaration of Independence."
It was Huy Can, a member of the National Liberation Committee, who asked her out of curiosity. She mused over whether she should answer his question truthfully, before giving a monotonous answer.
"Ho Chi Minh will be able to complete it on his own. Besides, I feel it my duty to witness the King's abdication."
The man nodded, seeming satisfied with the reply, but Vietnam thought she had caught a brief instance of discontentment in his eyes. It was understandable. Despite having abandoned the Hue court and pledged loyalty to the Indochinese Communist Party, Vietnam had not displayed enthusiasm over any of the Party's plans or called Ho Chi Minh by the appellation 'Uncle Ho'. It was not that she disrespected the man (quite the opposite); she just did not feel obliged to call him by an endearing name, preferring to remain detached.
Upon entering the Imperial Citadel, she cast a quick glance on her surroundings. The guards in the palace were still on patrol, but they made no attempt to stop the car. The Hue government had unanimously accepted the provisional communist government after Bao Dai's agreement to relinquish his throne.
Soon, the car screeched to a halt. Vietnam was the first to open the door; King Bao Dai was already waiting for the representatives in front of the Pavilion. Clad in golden-colored royal robe and matching turban, the man did not look different from the last time she had seen him.
"Lady Vietnam, my compatriots. Welcome."
He bowed. She and her subordinates bowed in return.
"Good afternoon, your majesty." Tran Huy Lieu, one of the government emissaries, spoke out. "We came as promised."
Bao Dai nodded. "Shall we proceed on the abdication ceremony in the Pavilion? Follow me."
As the King and the representatives went up the stairs leading to the Ngu Phung Pavilion, Vietnam stood still and took the world into her five senses. The last time she had been here was one decade ago. She used to work for the Nguyen Dynasty out of a sense of obligation, but eventually, that dutiful attitude could not dwarf her disillusionment in the end. Hue, the peaceful, cloistered city, and its stagnant government were not suitable for her. She needed to travel – northward or southward – and find another government body, another political affiliation, another network of intelligentsia that could help her set her country free.
"Miss Vietnam, are you not coming?"
She flinched at the sudden question. Turning her head around, she realized that one of the emissaries was still behind to carry the provisional government's flag to the Pavilion. They had agreed that after King Bao Dai's abdication ceremony, the yellow flag of the Nguyen Dynasty would be supplanted by the flag of the new government.
The red flag of her representatives streamed in the wind and sheened under the dazzle of the afternoon sun.
From her back, she could hear the distant chanting of her people – those who had long craved a government capable of conferring subsistence and happiness.
"Just thinking about some trivial matters." Vietnam said slowly. "You go ahead."
Then, Vietnam lingered to take a stroll around and reminiscence about the past. When she remembered her duty and entered the Pavilion half an hour later, the procedure had already begun. Some representatives flickered their eyes at her, but quickly retained composure and continued to pay close attention to the Bao Dai's proclamation of abdication.
"…Despite this, and strong in our convictions, we have decided to abdicate and we transfer power to the democratic Republican government."
Vietnam's amber eyes glimmered in unreadable emotions. This was it. It was the moment when Bao Dai would give up his kingship and relinquish the country's control to the new government. She chose a particular place on the spacious floor to stand and listened attentively to the King. Bao Dai's crisp voice droned on while the afternoon winds whipped against the walls of the Pavilion in a solemn rhythm.
"As for us, during twenty years' reign, we have known much bitterness. Henceforth, we shall be happy to be a free citizen in an independent country. We shall allow no one to abuse our name or the name of the royal family in order to sow dissent among our compatriots.
"Long live the independence of Vietnam!
"Long live our Democratic Republic!"
The Democratic Republic of Vietnam's representatives, deeply moved by the peroration, gave the ex King a round of applause as soon as he finished his speech. Huy Can, her subordinate, stepped forward to bestow upon Bao Dai an insignia emblazoned with gold star and red field. The old flag was soon replaced by the new flag of the government.
Vietnam watched the course of events unfold before her eyes with a strangely hollow feeling. The passage of time seemed to have stopped suddenly, leaving her flabbergasted and zonked-out. She had travelled for days from Hanoi to Hue just to witness this moment, but now, she just wanted to be alone. Her sentiments alienated her from her subordinates who all rejoiced at the prospect of an independent and democratic Vietnam.
"Lady Vietnam." Bao Dai's voice snapped her out of her stupor. "The ceremony is over. Do you wish to leave?
She blinked, only to realize that the others were leaving. On their faces shone delight and fulfillment, the expressions of people whose ideology had crystallized into a complete government.
"No." She said truthfully.
Bao Dai looked askance at her.
"This is the second time I have delivered this speech; my abdication has been officially declared a few days ago directly in front of Hue citizens. Why didn't you come that day, my lady?"
Her throat dried. She distinctly remembered seeing her subordinate wire the Hue court to persuade the King to give up his throne and end feudalism in Vietnam for good. On the twenty-fifth day of August, days after the cable, Bao Dai had gathered people from all walks of life to proclaim his relinquishment of kingship. Yet, she had not been there to witness the moment.
"I was busy helping the new government settle down in Hanoi."
The ex King's lips curved into a dry smile. If he was upset over her blatant answer, he did not outright show it.
"You know," He dawdled with his words. "People were confounded by my abdication. All of them were wondering how a country could function without a king."
Vietnam raised her eyebrows.
"They will learn eventually."
"You believe so."
It was not a question.
"I believe so." She replied.
A moment of silence passed.
"Don't you have any feelings left for this monarchy? The Nguyen Dynasty?"
"I still do." Vietnam closed her eyes. "That's why I am here right now."
If she said that she did not feel sad at the collapse of the thousand-year-old system she used to work for, she would be lying. Perhaps her soul had been lost somewhere during the days she attended court and the nights she spent awake to work over papers in the center of the palace.
"Why did you join the Communist Party then? Does their ideology appeal to you?"
Vietnam did not answer his question. Instead, she took a step back and recalled the course of events.
"Their ideology never did." After a while, she began speaking again.
Bao Dai raised his eyebrows.
"Why are you loyal to the Communist Party then?"
Vietnam stretched her lips. Despite its popularity and seemingly decent organization, initially, the Indochinese Communist Party had been nothing more than a mere option to Vietnam. She had stayed in both Tonkin and Cochin China in order to observe the growth of various trends and movements as her society witnessed drastic changes – Viet Nam Quoc Dan Dang, Trotskyism, Hoa Hao, Cao Dai, Communist Parties – but she rarely affiliated herself with any of the aforementioned movements.
Then the famine broke out in the North in 1944. As she helplessly saw her people die from starvation, the ICP had broken several rice storehouses and saved countless people's lives, thus gaining supreme support from northern and central Vietnam. After weeks of contemplation, she had decided that the Communists' popular appeal would put the Party at a distinct advantage and finally given them her full support.
"I am not loyal to any political philosophy." She turned her head and faced him again. "I am only loyal to my people. There is a difference."
It did not take long for Bao Dai to register what she had said. When her message did sink in his head, he lost his ability to speak for a brief instance.
"So… That year, when you abandoned the court and joined the Communist Party–"
"I was simply acting on behalf of my people."
The ex King peered at her, his expression now one of curiosity. Perhaps he was surprised. But maybe, he simply found her answer interesting.
Later that afternoon, when her delegation's car was on the cusp of leaving Ngo Mon, Vietnam cast the last glance on her old home. When she moved from Thang Long to Hue in 1802, she had been awed by the unique and esoteric beauty of the new citadel. Standing in contrast with the extravagant palace in Thang Long, it was a sublime structure, an astonishing work of art, the pride of place of Hue. Nonetheless, she still had to leave Hue in order to establish the new government in Hanoi.
She loved Hue. She had.
But she loved her people more.
Afterwards, she would find herself missing Hue for several more months. Notwithstanding, when she stood next to Ho Chi Minh on the Ba Dinh Square on the second day of September in 1945, the only feeling she recalled would be pride and hope. Hope for a better Vietnam.
"Vietnam has the right to be a free and independent country—and in fact it is so already. And thus the entire Vietnamese people are determined to mobilize all their physical and mental strength, to sacrifice their lives and property in order to safeguard their independence and liberty."
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End.
