Dynasty

         Contrary to popular belief, Sirius Orion Black did, in fact, know what he was doing. Sure, he may not have fully considered the consequences of his actions when volunteering for a live streamed, gladiatorial fight to the death, but what was he if not impulsive? 

         It was when he was perched on the plush bed of his personal train compartment, pondering the numerous objectively bad decisions that led him to this moment, that his incredibly pissed off brother barged in. 

         “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Regulus hissed, slamming the door behind him, “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

        Sirius snorted, “Yes, actually, I do. I’ve just become the Victor of the Second Quarter Quell, little brother.” 

        Regulus began pacing back and forth furiously. Why me? he thought to himself. What did I do in a past life to deserve this? 

        “I’ve been stuck with the dumbest brother in all of Panem,” he muttered mostly to himself, but loudly enough that his idiotic brother could hear. 

        “Listen, Reggie, I know I’m not at the top of the age bracket, but I’m going to win this!”

         The young Victor was so incredibly close to saying ‘fuck it’ and jumping out of the lavishly furnished compartment’s window. Alas, he had a job to do and a brother to keep alive.

         Regulus wasn’t stupid; in fact, he was far from it. He knew that his older brother was an incredibly competitive, jealous person. Regulus knew that he would do just about anything to put another point on the proverbial scoreboard that ran the lives of the Black brothers; therefore, volunteering for the Hunger Games the year directly following the one in which Regulus became the youngest Victor in the Games’ history was in character for Sirius. In fact, it was the next logical move for his brother, if it could even be called logic. Regulus was also much more pragmatic than his older counterpart, and knew that Sirius dying in the Arena was a very real possibility. 

         “Be that as it may, nothing is a guarantee in the Games. You could be the favorite at one moment and dead the next! You know, in my year-”

        “Yes, yes. The careers were celebrating the Bloodbath and you poisoned them all on the first night when their guard was down. You know, I’ve both seen that live and heard your oh-so dramatic retelling of it every chance you get-”

         “Oh, shut up, Sirius! My point is that there is no such thing as security in the Games. You can’t go into them galavanting around without a care in the world and expect the crown to fall at your feet! You are a member of a Victor dynasty, brother. There will be a target on your back, and a big one at that. Act like it. The Capitol will be watching your every move and your fellow tributes will be waiting to stab you in the back- literally! You can’t skate by like Districts Eight or Nine. You have to be completely and utterly invincible. I don’t know if you are.” Regulus finished with a huff. 

        Sirius was, for quite possibly the first time in his life, at a loss for words. It was quite possible that he may not have thought this all the way through. As soon as the coveted Victor’s crown touched Regulus’ head a year ago, Sirius knew that he would be the recipient of the next year’s. He had steps “A” and “Z,” planned out, he just didn’t have all steps “B” through “Y” sorted at the moment. 

        He stood there, slack jawed, contemplating this, while his brother continued his tirade. 

        “Are you prepared, truly, to cause the deaths of forty-seven other people?” Regulus grabbed his brother’s face with an iron grip, trying to get through to him. “Are you ready to kill forty-seven children? Because you’ll have to be to get that crown.” 

        A beat. Another. Then, a whispered “Sirius?” 

        This seemed to shake the tribute out of his stupor. A severely sinister smirk began to make its way across Sirius’ face as his eyes sharpened, turning gunmetal grey to liquid steel. He looked far too happy as he said “Of course, Reggie. I never do anything halfway.” 

        Regulus’ blood turned cold. Sirius couldn’t actually be looking forward to this, could he? His unspoken question was answered when his brother smiled, actually smiled, and barked out a laugh that, rather alarmingly, seemed more animal than human. 

        “Let’s see if I can’t set a record this year, yeah?”