A/N: Written for you because you asked me to.
timorous
Day 1
It has been a day since we left the port. There was trouble; whispers of an escaped convict. Some pitied the man; others insisted he was to be feared.
Regardless, we left in good time, and are on our way back to London, paying no mind to such stories. That colony is used to house prisoners, after all.
--
Day 4
Today, we came upon a wrecked ship. How it reached such a state...I do not know. Many of us were discontent, fearing that we'd be looking at bodies with our own faces.
Before we moved on, however, I spotted a man in the midst of the ruined lumber. I, being a good Christian man, insisted to the captain that we take the man on board. He agreed, and the man now sits among our company.
He is a curious man, both in appearance and mannerisms. Most alarming is the streak of white running through his hair. He makes no attempt to socialize with the crew; he just sits wrapped in blankets, staring out at the sea.
Johnson, of the sick bay, insisted he was just in shock from the accident, and the deaths of those on the ship.
Either way, he has the devil's luck to survive such an ordeal.
--
Day 5
The man has begun to walk around the deck... He has introduced himself as Todd, Sweeney Todd, and said he wishes to go to London. The captain agreed to let him stay on for the rest of the trip.
He volunteers no more information, and presently returned to his spot by the sea.
The other men avoid him; his silence makes them uneasy. They talk among themselves, remembering stories from the penny dreadfuls they bought as children, imagining Mr. Todd as the lead horror. Some seem half convinced of the tales; others that he is the escaped convict.
I myself... am unsure. He could be so, but... He's shown neither ill will nor unkindness towards, anyone since he has arrived.
Though, time will tell, I'm sure.
--
Arriving above deck for the first time that morning, Anthony paused by Sweeney's perch. "Good morning, Mr. Todd." He said politely.
The man's eyes flickered over, giving the barest of nods, before they re-settled onto the ocean.
Dismissed, Anthony moved on, and began his days work.
--
Day 10
Aston, who had bought himself a barbering kit before we left the last port, was going around offering hair cuts. He has little skill, but with no alternatives, well… I hope very much the cut heals soon.
Usually it takes more time into the trip for men to accept such an offer, but with the rumours at our previous stop, the captain decided to leave early. There was no time to indulge in any of the services offered in such a town.
Curious thing was, when Aston brought out the razor… Mr. Todd looked over, and just stared at it. He was completely transfixed with it, and even rose to stand—but then he met my eyes, and sat back down.
How could something so ordinary bring such a reaction from him?
Still, it does make one take another look at it, noticing how the light glances off its blade…
Nevertheless, I plan to avoid such activities until this voyage is over. Perhaps I can find a more suitable barber once we reach London.
--
"Good morning, Mr. Todd." Anthony said once more, as he had many mornings previously. There was still a cut on his cheek from last day's shave.
Sweeney's gaze lingered on it, before moving to the boy's face. He nodded. "Good morning." The man returned his voice slightly husky. Looking away, he spoke once more. "Tell me… do you have a family?"
Having taken a step away (figuring the conversation was over), Anthony resumed his former position, and nodded. "Yes sir. Half my wages go to my mother and father, and my siblings."
His gaze drifted back over. "…Siblings?" Sweeney's voice was thin, strained, as if attaching a memory to that simple word.
Nodding, Anthony smiled, taking no notice of the changes in the man's expression. "Yes, there's Lucy – she's a year younger than I, and my two younger brothers, Jonathan and Nathaniel…" He paused. "Sir?" This was asked tentatively, for Todd was once again staring fixatedly at him. If looks could kill—
"I beg your indulgence, Anthony. I…" His thought trailed off, and then Sweeney was silent, the sea once more drawing back his gaze.
Recognizing his cue, Anthony moved on, only casting a backwards glance toward the man…
--
Day 15
I've finally realized what Mr. Todd reminds me of.
It took me some time, but…
As we get closer to land, and our days on this ship draw to a close, many of the crew find themselves drawn to the edges of the ship, gazing at the horizon.
If is as if – and I myself am guilty of this—somehow it'll make the land appear faster.
Whatever business Mr. Todd has in London, he must be very eager to get back to it.
I wonder how long he's been away for. And why? And what of his family?
…I dare not ask. I imagine he'll share it with me, in due time.
--
Day 25
I've gotten into the habit of talking to Mr. Todd in the morning.
He doesn't say much, but listens to what I say. He seems most interested in London's current state of affairs. And hearing about my family, especially of my sister.
I wonder if he has a child of his own, one which he's been separated from.
I overheard Stephen saying to Edmund that the captain worries about us landing in London with Mr. Todd.
We've received no further news of the escaped man.
--
Day 35
I caved, and got another shave from Aston.
Now I have two identical cuts on either side of my cheek.
Mr. Todd seemed almost…irritated by them, and often stares at them.
--
Day 36
Today, we stopped in a port in South Africa. As always, it amazes me how far Britain's colonies extend.
Mr. Todd feels the opposite. He refused to leave the ship and appeared visibly shaken and generally uneasy when we boarded our ship once more.
He refused to even speak to me, and was seen pacing back and forth.
What could be troubling him?
--
Overhead, storm clouds gathered and swelled. As they blocked out the sun, it grew steadily darker, matching the mood upon the ship.
All was an eerie quiet. As the men moved about on their work, they stared at their passenger, who silently stalking across the deck, and back again.
"Mr. Todd?" Anthony asked delicately as he slowly approached his companion. There was a call from below for the evening meal. The men slowly trickled off deck, leaving the two alone.
Sweeney refused to face him, saying nothing.
Stepping into his path, Anthony stood, shoulders straight. "Mr. Todd, please, what's—?"
He was cut off when Sweeney grabbed him by this throat, dragged him over to the door to the storeroom, and pinned him there. Keeping his hand there, Sweeney leaned close and hissed venomously "Do you have any," here, his grip tightened, "idea what it's like to have to wait? To stay in place as the shadows draw near?
Sweeney started down at Anthony's face, looking at those damned cuts, and feeling slightly protective, for he wouldn't have created were it was him who'd been the barber, and watching his wide anxious eyes and short frightened breaths—
(nothing more than to open those cuts once more, wishing he was the one who did them,)
Releasing him, he turned, and stalked to the other side of the desk. "Go."
Anthony remained there, staring. "Go." Sweeney hissed again, turning and drawing closer, causing Anthony to finally move, to bolt and go below, into the safety of the light. Letting his shoulders go slack, Sweeney stayed in place, staring up in the sky.
Oh what he's do when they reach London.
end
disclaimer: Sweeney Todd and all related characters, scenarios and lyrics belongs to Stephen Sondheim. Inspired by Tim Burton's movie.