If you had told Ludovica a year earlier that she would soon be a mother, she would have laughed in your face and dismissed the outlandish claim with merely a flick of her wrist, telling you that her womb was barren — a place where nothing had ever taken root, unfitting, and certainly not suitable for such a task that needed her to be anchored down. She spent most of her days drifting from one country to the next, guided only by the random touch of her finger on the map she kept tucked away in her purse - having an extension charm placed on it did wonders, she had to admit. Free, untethered to any cause, and always in motion. It was the simple notion that Ludovica never allowed herself to be tied down in one place for too long that made her deny the existence of the two babies in her arms, not one, but a fucking pair of twins who took on more of her rather charming traits than she would have liked at the moment. She could hardly even refute against the fact that they were hers, there was no mistaking the pale hue in the small tufts of hair, her sea-foam eyes that had been practically split into two halves, and the stubborn set of their little jaws that mirrored her very own.

The rest of their appearance [ and heritage ] was something that of a mystery, one that the nurses of the muggle clinic had asked of her to clarify, though, she offered no answers under the citation of "exhaustion" as her excuse. She didn't owe them anything. They didn’t need to know, just as she didn’t need to know that she, technically, was a mother now.

There was barely a trace of the father in them, whoever the lucky dullard might have been, but Ludovica knew better than to entertain that line of thought - in the end, she came to a standstill between two people: Ronan and Renatus. She's always had a weakness for men whose names started with the letter R, could you blame her? It rolled off of the tongue in a way that was romantic, and dare she say, a little unpredictable depending on the dialect spoken. Ronan had taken a sliver of her fancy when they had first met on the streets of some big-shot city that she had long forgotten the name of by now, even going as far as to lie about his age to join Ludovica on her walk back to her apartment that later ended the night with him asking for her number. She had laughed at him then, amused by the twenty-year-old who was five years her junior, and reassured him with a half-smile that she'll come to him, instead.

And just like that, the Veela had found her distraction for the past few days.

It was fun to play as "Hazel" around Ronan, in the process, she had adopted a persona that was lighter, simpler - more suited for the kind of fleeting connections she indulged in when she was bored, or when she simply needed someone to occupy the space beside her for a while. That was the thing about Ronan -- he was an artistic trip, a myriad of overtones, and a little off his rocker, like a brushstroke on a blank canvas that was waiting to take shape or it might have smeared into something else entirely; not that she really knew how to paint, it was a hobby that she never found herself to partake in. But Ludovica was never one to settle.

Not with men. Not with cities. Not with anything. So, despite their connection, she packed her bags and left without as so much of a clue as to a second thought, like she had done with so many others.

Where Ronan had been youthful, almost like a spark of energy to a conduit, Renatus had the unyielding force of a magnet. Ludovica had shown up at a masquerade party with a wealthy pureblood scion at her side, her arm linked through his as they entered the lavish hall. Renatus had been watching her from across the room, she remembered, his eyes never leaving her as if he had already decided who she was long before they had the chance to utter a single word to eachother. Unlike Ronan, Renatus had no reason to lie about his age to earn her attention - there was no need for empty flirtation, no games, or tip-toeing around the metaphorical glass on the floor, jagged edges pointed outwards.

He had wanted a brief reprieve from the suffocation the responsibilities of the Demarest name gave to him on a silver platter while she was cursed with an endless hunger for those around her, always yearning for a taste of something new. It was a well-struck match.

Even though Ludovica insisted on not doing so, one of the nurses that had assisted in the birth gave them nicknames, harmless but made her wish that she had been in St. Mungo's instead - they would have given the Veela a potion that made all of the post-pregnancy nonsense wash away. She wouldn’t give them names, or hold them any further. She couldn’t get attached. She slid a coin off the bedside table, deciding to figure out which father gets who. Heads – the boy goes to Renatus, Tails – the girl does. The coin is thrown, and all three bloodlines hold their breath.

Even though Ludovica had insisted, adamantly, that she would not be involved in such sentimentalities that would require her to step foot in the world of motherhood, one of the nurses who had assisted in the birth was not able to resist and had given the twins nicknames -- "darling" for the girl, and "dear" for the boy. Every instance of where she had to grit her teeth and bite her tongue after hearing the endearments had made her wish, not for the first time, that she had chosen to give birth in St. Mungo’s instead, where they would have handed her a potion to make all of this post-pregnancy nonsense disappear with one sip.

For some traitorous reason that was inside of Ludovica, there was a part of her that wanted the two strange little creatures -- half of her blood, half of someone else’s -- to grow up safely.

With a deep sigh, Ludovica reached over to the bedside table, her fingers brushing across the cool, smooth sterilized surface, and her hand fell on the coin she had tossed there earlier. It was not the most sophisticated of methods, but it was the simplest way to make the decision she knew she had to make.

Heads. The boy would go to Renatus.

Tails. The girl would go to Ronan.

Otherwise, vice versa.

She flipped the coin, and all three bloodlines held their breath.


* anella's writer and I allow our characters to be fullblooded siblings.
* they'll find out they're siblings as the roleplay expands. as of now, they have no idea.