Renly Baratheon (age 18), District 2

The whole family comes with me to the Reaping. Robert claps me on the shoulder confidently; Mother hugs me; and Father and Stannis give me small smiles. I know they all mean well, but that doesn't make me any less nervous.

"You won't be Reaped." Robert says again right before he leaves. "Relax, Ren."

I nod. "I'll try. Thanks, Robert."

He smiles slightly and with a nod, he leaves to stand at the back with the rest of them. I nod to myself, trying to get more confident. I can do this. I sign in, wincing as they prick my finger for blood. Honestly, couldn't people be any more civilized than using blood? It seems, no. Anyway after that I go to my age group and slide under the rope.

Mm. This should be fun. I lean against the post and cross my arms, trying to swallow my nervousness yet again. And it still doesn't work.

x-X-x

The Escort this year is a fat bald man with a powdered face. I raise my eyebrows. The powder is from the Capitol, I know, but it's still odd. He's draped in heavy brightly colored robes.

"Welcome!" he calls, and his voice is high and soft. It immediately rubs me the wrong way and I don't like him. "Welcome to the District 2's Reaping for the Seventh Annual Hunger Games!"

"He's new." I say to the guy next to me.

"His name is Varys," he says back out of the corner of his mouth, before smirking. "They say he's a eunuch."

"Gross." I wrinkle my nose.

"Tell me about it."

"...and now is the time for a special little video made just for you from the Capitol!" Varys says, drawing us back to the stage. He clicks on something, and it starts. I try to watch dutifully for a few seconds, but hey, I have a very short attention span. Instead, I look around at the people around me.

The guy I was talking to could make a good tribute. He's broad-shouldered with curly dark hair and pale eyes. I don't recognize him; he doesn't notice me looking. Or maybe he does, and he just doesn't say anything. I'm grateful. That'd make it awkward.

The mentor who's doing it this year is a skinny guy with shrewd eyes and a small goatee. He's sitting on the chair behind Varys. Looks suspicious. I remember his name being Petyr, but most called him by a nickname. Little...Little-something. Ha. That makes me snicker.. Focus! Stop making bad jokes!

"...wasn't that just splendid?" Varys says brightly as the video ends.

"Uh, no." I mutter to myself with an eyeroll.

"Now for the tributes!" he waddles over to one of the two fishbowl-type bowls, filled with slips of paper. Names of children. "Ladies first!"

I don't know any girls so I'm not particularly worried yet. And then a small thought creeps in. What if the girl I'm supposed to marry is Reaped? I don't even know who she is. And that's terrible! But...it'd make everything a lot easier...

"Jeyne Poole!"

She can't be my fiance (way too young) so my guilt slowly dribbles away. The girl who's called is small and thin, with short pulled-back dark hair. Anywhere between thirteen to sixteen--though she comes out of the fifteen-year-old section, so she's probably fifteen. Cute in a pixie-type sort of way.

I wait for someone to volunteer. She's young and not strong-looking, so someone must. But as she climbs the steps to the Reaping Stage, the area is silent. She's going in. I feel a little ill and wonder how long she'll make it for.

"That's it. Lovely, darling." Varys says to Jeyne. "And now for the boys!"

I don't have time to think. Not to look at the mentor, or the guy I'm standing next to. Not even to mutter a quick, weak prayer.

"Renly Baratheon!"

...shit.