Disclaimer :: I do not own any of the Sweeney Todd locations, characters, or anything of the sort. I just fell in love with the film and decided to make a fan fiction. I am also not making any profit from this.
Characters :: Sweeney Todd X Made-Up [Ishmael
Note :: This is a Yaoi fan fiction. I have done much research, and it is known that Sweeney would take apprentices if he found himself a boy he was attracted toward. This is going to take place right when Sweeney gets off the boat, so you will have to deal with me explaining him walking along the streets as he did in the film and walk to Mrs. Lovett's pie shop. Also, Ishmael will probably come into the story sometime within chapter two or three. You'll just have to wait.
Rating :: NC-17 [For future reference
[Read the note before the story!
The land of London was eerie in the morning mist as the harbor took shape. A low fog resided just above the paved streets, hiding most rats and stray cats of the like from view. Even the small breeze that blew had a feel of common dread and fear about it. The land seemed to be scarce but full of life at the same time. A ship was slowly moving into the harbor, docking just a few moments later as it rested and the platform to let the passengers off lowered.
A man stepped off the ship, his head partly lowered. A dark mist seemed to be about him as he threw a bag over his shoulder, holding the strap firmly in his fingerless gloved hands. His dark eyes slowly lifted as he looked about London, curiosity running over his form like a mothers embrace. It had been fifteen years since he had last seen London. Fifteen long, long years. His black hair, one white streak running from above his left eye, pushed away from his face so he was able to see correctly.
"Mr. Todd…are you going to need a place to stay…" Anthony asked.
Anthony was a sailor by nature. Born and raised in Paris, he came back to London after a visit to Peru. He had taken Sweeney in when he saw the man with nothing but the clothes on his back. After feeding and housing him, they both made their way to London on the ship, intent on doing what they must. When no response came from the man before him, Anthony got a confused look.
"Thank you, Anthony. I will depart now. You have my regards. I am in your debt."
Anthony stood there a bit perplexed. He sighed and slowly shook his head as he watched the rather dark looking man start walking away. Sweeney looked about the streets as he walked, his bag thrown over his shoulder still. He couldn't help but look around in slight bewilderment as he remembered the sights and sounds of the city mornings. He could still remember waking up at dawn with his dear Lucy by his side, helping him to prepare for the day ahead.
Sweeney Todd, was in fact, another person. He used to be Benjamin Barker, a local barber whose skill was unmatched. He could give you the perfect shave in a matter of seconds, and only for a penny. It didn't matter if you were rich or not, he didn't need much to run his shop and rarely had to leave. In fact, he only left if Lucy and his baby girl, Johanna, were leaving to go shopping or something.
As he walked the lone streets, Sweeney's eyes darted from place to place. He knew where he was heading, and he was prepared to do whatever he needed to get back there. He could still remember the smells of the city as well; baked pies, roses and daisies, even the smell of the cars that rolled along the streets; if you were wealthy enough to own one. The mans eyes slowly shifted over to where a shop lay, with a building planted over the shop.
It was renamed, but he knew the place extremely well. It was now called Mrs. Lovett's Pie Shop, but he knew without a doubt that it was also the place he used to reside. Fifteen years ago he lived in that home with his wife and daughter, and fifteen years ago he was known far and wide. And now, he was to revisit the place, and pray that his friends were still there and waiting for him.
Walking briskly toward the building, Sweeney looked around before slowly opening the door. He spotted a woman at a small bar like area in the center, hitting and banging a rolling pin over what appeared to be dough. One look around told him that his old home had gone to the dumps. He took a slight step forward before shaking his head and deciding to turn back. Until…
"A customer!" The lady spoke, hope shinning in her eyes. "Blimmy me! Come in, come in! What's your hurry? Stay to have one of the worst pies in London."
The woman had taken his arm before he knew what hit him and was pulling him to a small table. Sweeney felt himself pushed to a sitting position and watched as a pie appeared in front of him. He stared down at what was supposed to be a pie and blinked, his eyes narrowing a bit as he rose them to the woman that seemed to still be baking and talking to him at the same time.
"They worst pies in London, those are. Using only pussy cats and toast, but they sell somewhat good, mind you. But money is tight, now a days, with the cost of meat so high."
Sweeney took a bite.
And regretted it.
With a look of utmost disgust, he swallowed and pushed the plate away, trying to swallow the taste out of his mouth. Yes, he would never try the 'worst pies in London' again. Not in his lifetime. He looked around before looking back toward the woman with slight anger and a bit of confusion as she turned and started to fill a mug with water. She was still talking all the while as she walked over and dropped the glass onto the table top, sitting down by him and laying her elbow on the table with head resting in her palm.
"Bad taste I know. Drink up, it should help," She said, smiling toward him. "My names Mrs. Lovett."
Sweeney took a drink and had, yet again, another disgusted look. He tried to swallow the taste down but again it stayed. He really didn't like this taste at all, and wished he hadn't even tried to eat the disgusting looking pie. Mrs. Lovett, as she was called, smiled toward him before standing and quickly brushing off the corset around her waist to get some flour from the front.
"Well…you'll need more than that to get the taste out, luv. Come, I'll give you some gin."
Sweeney nodded before slowly standing up. He walked with her into what appeared to be a living room, much like the one him and Lucy had sat in for hours discussing matters and holding to each other, and sat down. Mrs. Lovett had walked to a small cabinet and poured some gin into a shot glass before walking back and passing it to Sweeney, who took it slowly. He took a sip, and felt the burn in his throat making him wince toward the feel and taste of the liquid.
Mrs. Lovett smiled lightly and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she did so. Sweeney looked toward her, taking another sip and again feeling the burn. He let out a soft cough before narrowing his eyes toward the woman. Mrs. Lovett smiled and slowly leaned back and thought for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh.
"If money is so tight," Sweeney murmured, looking up, "then why not rent out that upstairs bedroom?"
"Well, people think it's haunted. They say, something happened up there; something not very nice."
Sweeney stared toward her quietly before leaning back and thinking. He watched her apprehensively as she fumbled with part of her dress to make sure it looked better than it did at the moment. Sweeney watched her, analyzing the way she moved and the way she acted. He wanted to ensure he knew what she was doing so that he didn't slip up on anything.
"There was a barber and his wife, you see. And one day, a man by the law fell in love with that wife. He accused the barber of false charges, and sent him away for life," Mrs. Lovett murmured. "He tried to court the wife, but she would not come down from her tower. Poor thing. Then one day, she was invited to the mans house for an apology, but there was a ball in masks, you see. And she was confused and drinking. She asked 'Where is Judge Turpin?' but no one responded. But he was there all right.
"Then, the judge assailed her. Poor thing." Mrs. Lovett whispered.
Sweeney got an enraged look and stood up quickly. "No! Would no one, go to her aid?"
Mrs. Lovett looked up in amazement, her mouth slightly open. "So it is you…Benjamin Barker."