#bpospara

Toulouse Bonfamille was on Hades’s ship.

After seven years-- after Hades thought he had eviscerated his life on land and all that it weathered-- it had been hand-delivered to him by his own bloody crew. He should not be so surprised; when he’d heard Bonfamille as the name of the Commodore’s husband, his past had crept ever closer. Toulouse was supposed to be far away, though. Why was he in the bloody Commodore’s house in the first place? And why...how...was he a werewolf?

Hades shouldn’t care about the answers to these questions, but he did. He shouldn’t care about the anger on Lou’s face in the light of his fire...but part of him did. 

Before he could find these answers though, he had to speak to his wife.

He waited as he always did at the wheel of the ship, squinting out at the dim light. It was just about time for Belle to return to this plane, which meant that Hades’ time would be cut short. There would be no time to waste when she was delivered from Limbo’s hold. Hardly time for a warm greeting, an embrace. 

Belle came into focus as the sun peeked over the horizon. She shimmered, like a mirage. And then, she was here. 

Hades reached for her hand. 

“My love,” he greeted, and it was the only greeting he could give. “I have-- some unfortunate news about our prisoner.”