Renly Baratheon (age 18), District 2

On the day of the Reaping, it rains. I hear it patter on my windsill and I lay awake in bed for a bit before I even have to wake up. Everything is grey. Maybe they'll cancel it. After all, people wouldn't want their precious sweetkins getting sick from a little cold, yeah?

"Renly!" my older brother Robert bellows from the kitchen just as I'm thinking this. "Get your sorry ass down here!"

I wince. Alas, no such luck: but I didn't really expect it anyway. It'd be too good to be true. "Yeah yeah, I'm coming!" I call back with an eyeroll. Oh what a great start to a great day. Be a dear and note my sarcasm.

I grew up in District 2. I have two older brothers--you met Robert, the one who yells a lot; and then there's Stannis, who always looks like he smelled something bad. They're both over Reaping age, but they trained to be careers. Me? Yeah, I'm eighteen. Today's my last Reaping and seven hells, am I happy! I don't have to pretend to like violence anymore.

I'm...not exactly a very good fighter. Don't get me wrong, I've trained before. We all have, here. But I just never got the knack of it. And I'm not ashamed to admit that I just don't like it. I don't want to kill people. If I'm Reaped today--which is a very slim chance, since my family is rich, I'm eighteen, and there are always volunteers--I'd have to rely on my dashing good looks. Mm, yes. I take more pride in those bad boys then any weapon around.

Which brings me to my even bigger problem at hand. See, my parents--my whole family, really--they all want me to get married. To a girl they already picked out. To a girl. Girls aren't really my cup of tea, if you...uh, know what I mean. I've had girlfriends, and friends who are girls, and all of that. But I don't love girls. Simple.

Look at that, folks. I wonder what you must think. What a disgrace the youngest boy of the Baratheon family is: not only does he not wish to bring honor to his family by being a victor, but he's also fucking lavender. Well...not a lot of people know that second part. In fact, no one knows--especially not my family.

I sigh. Oh, woe is me.

"Renly, I swear to the gods--!" Robert yells again.

I grab a bathrobe and, tying it around my waist, I hop out of bed. "Coming, you asshole. Hold on."

And then I put on a smile. No use worrying my family, yeah? Because after today, one problem will be down. Then all I have to do is convince my family I don't want to be married to some pretty little thing they've picked out... I gulp.

x-X-x

"There y' are." Robert says gruffly as I appear in the kitchen doorway. He looks me over in that weird brother way he has. I'm the baby to everyone: he's six years older than me at twenty-four, and Stannis is almost thirty. "Sit down, Ren. Have some eggs."

"I'm not very hungry," I admit, and it's the truth. I step around the dog to kiss my mother on the cheek good morning.

"Are you nervous, my boy?" my father asks over the newspaper. It's hilarious how normal my family seems. I smile and shrug a bit.

"Of course he isn't!" Robert says immediately, at my defense. "Ren knows what he's doing. Don't ya, Ren?"

"Of course I do." I grin cockily. "Do you doubt my skills, Father?" I pick up a spatula and whirl to face Robert. "Robert Baratheon, I challenge you to a duel!"

"Aye, Renly... I spent all of last night drunk... No fighting this early..." he mumbles.

"Well if we were in the Games, I'd have t' kill you for an answer like that." I smirk and jab his belly with my weapon. He groans softly.

"Cruel man, Ren... right in the soft spot.." he feigns being hurt and I laugh.

"Also they don't have whiskey in the arena."

"Another good thing why I didn't decide to volunteer." he says lightly. "Now have some damn eggs before they get cold. Mother made them especially for you today!"

"Mother also doesn't appreciate you swearing." My mother puts in, looking shrewdly at him. I wag my finger at him behind her back, and he makes a face.

"Well, I'll have an egg. Just to please you, Mother." I turn to grab the pan--trip over the dog--and nearly fall on a person walking in the kitchen on the other side of me.

Stannis stares at me coldly. Honestly, he's my brother, just like Robert--but the three of us couldn't be more different. "Good morning, Renly. Sleep well?"

I quickly stand up and brush myself off. "Yeah, I guess. You?"

"I slept fine, thank you." Gods, he really is the iceberg.

Robert claps me on the back. "Those eggs, remember?"

"Do I have to? I'm not hungry..."

"Renly, you're eighteen." Stannis says, sitting down next to my father. "Stop acting like a child."

I flinch and nod. "O-okay. Hand me the pan?"

Robert does, slightly sympathetic. I put some on my plate. My stomach lurches.

"Renly, love, don't worry." my mother says warmly, laying a hand on my arm. "You'll be fine. The odds that you'll be chosen are very slim."

"And if you are," Stannis puts in. "You'll stand a good chance. You're a career and people will respect you. And you're eighteen."

"But I don't fight well," I remind them. "And you have to fight--you have to kill--to win the Games."

Mother shrugs. Robert chews on his lip: nervous habit. Stannis calmly rips the crust off of his piece of toast. "Then pray to the gods you're not Reaped, brother."

...wow.

"Wow." I say out loud. "Thank you so much for those...caring words, Stan."

"Don't call me that." he says immediately, glowering. I smirk.

"Renly, remember this too." My father says seriously, and I look at him. "After this Reaping, we can finally get to planning your wedding! All you have to do is get through this one last thing, and then we can focus on something more enjoyable."

"Yeah." I say flatly. Enjoyable. "Anyway, I still have to meet the wench--"

"Renly!" my father and Stannis both snap. I raise my eyebrows.

"What? It's true."

"She's a very nice girl. You'll like her very much." Father says.

"If Robert doesn't get to her first." Stannis mutters. I grab his other piece of toast off his plate and he rolls his eyes slightly but doesn't complain. Robert looks oblivious.

"Father, I'm eighteen." I say, slightly desperate. "I don't want to get married right away like this. Robert and Stannis aren't married yet, so why do I have to be married now?"

"Because I have already promised your hand to someone." Father says shortly. "Renly, we will discuss this after the Reaping. Am I clear?"

I sigh angrily out of my nose. "Crystal, Father."

"Good. Now get dressed. It's time to leave."