Ivan: How nice. Your first fic is about me. What do I do? Something noble and heroic?

Uhhh...yeah, sure. Why not. Read and see, blond one.

For the purposes of this story, I'm assuming Hama's between 14 and 15 years older than Ivan. I haven't really decided yet and it doesn't seem terribly important.

I do not own Golden Sun or any characters or places associated with it.

Trust me, this is an accurate representation of baby behaviour. As far as my sister goes, anyway.

Nikita looked up slightly. Her husband, Dirk, noticed and stood, gripping his sword.

"Is he here?" he asked her, his voice quiet. She nodded sadly.

"Yes. He is south of the village, or will be. We must hurry." She too stood, cradling the small baby in her arms silently for a moment before giving him to his sister. He moaned quietly before settling down in her lap and sleeping again.

"Is this the man--" she began, then stopped as her mother nodded silently.

"Yes, Hama. Watch Ivan while we're gone. You know where food is if he is hungry." The girl nodded and Nikita turned to go, holding her staff.

"Sleep, that's all you do," the girl murmured to him as her parents left the small building. "I wish you'd stay awake." She sighed. "After all, we haven't got much time left together." She tickled the boy under his chin. He stirred in his sleep, found her finger and latched onto it with his mouth, suddenly wide awake. Hama smiled, then yelped; her brother had a (previously undiscovered) tooth coming in. She grimaced; he smiled, liking the face. She continued making faces for him, since he never seemed to tire of them, until he began to wail. She changed him, fed him, changed his mashed-vegetable-covered clothes and played with him again, throwing him up in the air and flying him around the room. He threw up on her. She changed her clothes while he rolled around on the floor. When she returned, he'd found her diary and was cheerfully chewing on the corner. He grinned at her, and Hama saw the tooth he'd bitten her with earlier, a tiny sliver of ivory against his gums. She sighed and picked him up.

"I suppose you're proud of yourself," she told him as she wrestled the book off of him. For a seven-month old, he was shockingly strong. He laughed delightedly as Hama spun around, pulling in two directions at once while trying not to drop him. "Ivan! Let go...please...no, no more biting the book..." Finally, she slumped in a chair, having given up. He could have the stupid book. However, now that he could have it, he didn't want it. He dropped it on the ground. Hama let him sit, wobbling, on her lap as she rested her head on the back of the chair.

She felt a tug at her collar and looked down. Ivan was staring at her solemnly, violet eyes wide and curious. He held her collar tightly in both hands as he looked her over, then, suddenly, he lunged forward and latched his arms around her neck. She picked him up off her lap and held him closer to her chest, wrapping one arm around his tiny body, the other supporting his weight. She felt tears sting the backs of her eyes and blinked them back. It was so odd...as if he knew he was about to leave. But he couldn't. He couldn't possibly know.

Later, he ate again and went back to sleep. Hama washed dishes until the door opened and her parents walked back in. She greeted them with a small smile as another man walked in behind them. He was brown-haired and shorter than both her parents, in his early twenties, sunburned, slightly nervous and somewhat portly. He held the Shaman's Rod in his hand. They were introduced, she as "our daughter, Hama"; he was Hammet, a travelling merchant from Angara. Nikita caught Hama's eye and nodded as she picked a leather coin-purse off the table. Hama felt her heart sink.

She went into the small room where her brother slept in his crib. Hanging a leather satchel on her shoulder from its strap, she picked him up, rocking him gently to stop him from crying as he woke up. (It didn't work.) She held him up at her eye level and shook him gently to gain his attention. (It didn't work.) She tried everything she could think of to get him to stop crying. (It didn't work.) She checked his pants, slipped her finger into his mouth, made sure he wasn't cold or hot and his clothes weren't chafing him.

There was no reason she could see that he would be crying, but he was. He was getting louder by the second. Hama tried reading his mind; it had worked before.

He did not want to leave. Hama stared at her brother in amazement. How could he have known? It was practically impossible…unless he'd heard them talking about it. They hadn't spoken of his leaving for months, though. They'd treated it as an unavoidable eventuality.

She called his name. He looked up, fixing her with his wide-eyed gaze. Slightly hesitant, she asked, "How do you know you're going to leave? Are you sure it's not a dream?" She read his mind again, thinking, if I get an answer to my question, I will be a lot more careful about how I speak to babies.

It was not a dream; he'd had a different dream about purple birds. There was a strange man in the next room; Ivan could hear his voice and it was not his father's voice. The strange man was talking to his father and his mother.

"What does that have to do with you leaving?"

Hama intended to give him to the strange man. The bag contained things the man would need to take care of him. But Ivan did not want the man to take care of him, he wanted mother and father and Hama to do it. Hama was extremely impressed. How did he know what was in the bag? Did he understand what their parents were saying in the next room? He had very good ears for a tiny baby.

He did not understand them. He did not understand when people spoke, apart from words like 'mama.' (Or 'papa', or 'Hama'. Or, indeed, 'Ivan'.) He heard those constantly and they were his people. But he did not understand words, generally.

Hama blinked. His last response had come before she'd asked the question. …Out loud.

How do you know what I want to know?

He could tell what her question by…by seeing it. She could think of no other way to describe his perception of Mind Read. But that was what it was. He saw speech- vocalisation- as a way of gaining attention, not a mode of communication in itself. If someone called his name, he read their thoughts to discover what they wanted from him. She hoped Ivan would not expect similar treatment from Hammet.

He was NOT going with That Man. (Hammet had gone from 'the strange man' to 'That Man', with a negative undertone to the thought.)

Hama sighed. This is your fate. You don't get a say in the matter.

She could watch him have it anyway. He always got a say.

He'd had his say in spectacular fashion. Screaming, kicking, wailing, waving his fists and arms, staring at his parents, throwing his body towards the floor as they tried to hand him over and twisting his spine and neck in ways that would make the most flexible of cats stare in amazement, he had thwarted every attempt by his family to give him to Hammet.

However, he had been unable to stop them from forcing him to leave with Hammet. His sister, his satchel over her shoulder, carried him from Contigo to the Attekan port, trying to stop him from crying the whole way. She didn't quite succeed, although three hours into the journey, he began to rub his eyes. Knowing his sister's plan, he fended off sleep for as long as he could, but gave in an hour after he'd begun rubbing. They were halfway to the port. She gave him to Hammet, biting the inside of her lip. She did not want to do this to him; it felt like a betrayal. Hammet took the boy awkwardly, not entirely sure how to hold him.

"Do you remember everything we told you?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yes. Three years after the storm that strikes only Mt…"

"Aleph," she prompted, exasperated. She hadn't planned on him repeating it.

"Aleph, yes. Three years after the storm, Ivan," he glanced at the baby in his arms, "will leave on a journey with warriors from Vale, the village that sleeps in its shadow." Hama nodded and waited. "Also, I am to give him the Shaman's Rod when that happens, and tell him to use it to find an object which will aid him in his mission." Hama nodded again. "May I know what that mission is, exactly?" Hama shook her head.

"No. I am sorry." He seemed confused.

"Why not?"

"It is related to the third thing that we told you." This was actually a lie. Hama didn't want to admit her parents hadn't actually told her. She wanted to admit she thought it was because they didn't know either even less. He raised his eyebrows.

"That he will develop strange powers, like your parents'?" Hama nodded.

"Yes, and the power is called Psynergy. He is an Adept. This was explained to you," she added, slightly perturbed.

"It was a lot to take in. Besides, you told me he will b-is," he quickly amended under Hama's glare, "a 'Jupiter Adept.' That doesn't tell me much."

"True…" Hama conceded. "I suppose you wish to know exactly what he will be capable of."

Hammet nodded. "It would help me greatly, yes."

Hama thought for a moment. "A Jupiter Adept can… see things which are invisible to other people, sense and predict the future, control wind and lightning-"

"Lightning?!" Hammet did not seem very pleased.

"Yes, lightning. Jupiter is one of the four elements, the element of wind, or sky. Lightning is included."

Hammet moaned. Hama ignored him and continued. "Control wind and lightning, affect the Psynergy of others, although that hardly affects you, and read minds."

"Read minds. It's possible to read someone's mind?" Hammet was staring at her oddly.

"Yes," she replied, "although that is not an entirely accurate way to describe it." He stared at her, suddenly wary. She frowned.

"You think I am mad," she accused him. Hammet shook his head.

"No. I believe you. But..."

"But what?" Hama was now sick of talking to him. Then it hit her. "Oh... Do you think we have been reading your mind?" Hammet, after a short, hesitant pause, nodded slowly. She considered her words carefully. "I have not read your mind, but..."

"Your parents did?" Hama nodded, a sick feeling growing in her stomach.

"They wanted to know the best way to persuade you to agree to aid us." She grimaced. "I am sorry. We should not have violated your privacy so, especially without telling you we were capable of it." Hammet watched her, then shook his head.

"Don't apologise for something you didn't do. Their actions are not your fault." He looked at the baby in his arms. "Will I be able to tell when he is using his powers?" Hama shook her head.

"Not unless they have some physical, visible effect. You won't be able to tell if he's reading someone's mind, but if he creates a whirlwind, you'll know, because you'll see it. You will see the effects of his power but not the power itself. Understand?" Hammet nodded.

"So, to non-...Adepts? This power is invisible?" Hama nodded, then frowned.

"How did we end up speaking of this?"

"I wanted to know what his mission will be, and you said I couldn't know." He had a good memory! She certainly couldn't have recalled it that quickly. She nodded.

"Yes...because he'll have the ability to read your mind. He can't know about this." Hammet frowned.

"He's not going to know he's leaving on a journey? Won't that make it hard to get him to leave with these warriors from Vale?" Hama frowned; they hadn't considered that.

"Possibly. I do not know if he will require persuasion in the matter. ...To be honest, we did not think of that dilemma. We were more concerned about getting you to take him."

As if he sensed them talking about him, Ivan stirred in Hammet's arms. Both of them watched him nervously until he settled down again. Hama gave Hammet the bag containing Ivan's things. They'd spoken too long, and she told him so. She bit back a sudden urge to continue speaking. She'd nearly woken her brother already.

...Maybe she'd wanted to. If he woke up, he'd cry; she would take him back and walk to the port with Hammet. She'd get some extra time with him. After all, she didn't know when they'd see each other again...

Hammet nodded to show he understood, and raised one hand in a silent wave as he turned and continued down the path, her brother in his arms. Hama stood where she was, watching him go until he was out of sight, then watching the spot where she'd last seen him. Eventually, she turned her back on the narrow road, fighting the lump in her throat. She felt wetness on her face and wiped it away sharply.

He had to leave. Even if it wasn't his choice...or hers. It wasn't a betrayal, not really, not if it was his fate to leave... and it was. They were sure of that. It was fate.

He didn't get a say in it, no matter what he thought...and neither did she.

Alright, chapter 1 done. I'll write chapter 2 when I figure out what happens in it (told you it wasn't planned.) Whadaya think? Please review!

Ivan: You lied. That was not heroic. That was humiliating.

Elliott: She does that quite a lot.