Mercy upon my Soul (Sweeney Todd)

Fate had tied her to him

"The bakery..." Mrs. Lovett mumbled and her glance turned to the stairs that went down into the cellar with its foul stench. "She knows about your occupation?" she looked at him, cocking an eyebrow as she wasn't sure why he would bring another woman into their business. That was a secret they had shared from that unfortunate moment he had killed Senior Pirelli. Sweeney nodded, taking a small bite from his plate although he wasn't much of a eater, never had been actually. Tondeleya observed their conversation closely, almost immediately realizing that the baker didn't want her around and with the way the red-haired woman turned to him when she spoke, the way her eyes softened she could already imagine why. Although it was absolutely incomprehensible how someone could be in love with him. The one she had to call 'sir' with his fascinating dark eyes. Who was somewhat interested in what she had done. Slowly she lowered her head and felt the necklace between her breasts as if it was burning her. She knew if he ever discovered that necklace she was as good as dead. In fact it would be best to get rid of it but she had no idea how and on the other hand she knew it was expensive.

"Come on then, don't sit around" Mrs. Lovett interrupted her thoughts and got up herself, intending to leave Tondeleya with the corpses to make pies so she could have her breakfast with Sweeney. Quickly the two women rose and made their way down the stairs. "What is this... smell?" the iron door had opened with a creak and Tondeleya felt like vomiting as she pressed a handkerchief against her nose and mouth. "You'll get used to it" the baker wasn't bothered by it anymore and instead closed the door behind them, starting to explain what had to be done to put the meat in the pies and bake them so they would smell and taste deliciously for the customers. As she was done, Mrs. Lovett quickly made her way back into the shop, only to be disappointed by an empty gin glass. Obviously Mr. Todd had drunken a bit of her gin before he decided to leave. With a pout she started to clean off, wishing he had stayed longer. But perhaps he would come down more often, now that he had a little servant who would do some of his work for him. Hope changed her expression as she looked into the mirror, pinning a few of the curls back into their place although it was useless. The humid weather and the hot steam from the ovens always made sure her hair looked messy. But so did his, she assured herself and prepared everything for the lunch rush that would flood in an hour later. When she was almost finished, the door to the shop opened. Upon seeing Sweeney she gave him her most beautiful smile but his expression was grim. He probably had been pondering on about the judge and cleaned his razors while he was upstairs. That was all he ever did those days.

"I need her upstairs, you know soon the customers will plop in and someone has to clean" he announced and his arms were crossed in front of his chest defiantly. With a nod she assured him to get downstairs and get the little assistant himself. "She's probably worn out by the grinder. Not much of a strong one you got yourself there" she stated, knowing the woman might've been beautiful but she wasn't much use.
With a shrug Sweeney entered the cellar, realizing the door had been locked. Obviously Mrs. Lovett didn't trust Tondeleya or his skills to keep her on track. Well she'd see. For a while he watched her work and saw it was exhausting for her but she gave her best. That would probably change once she discovered the connection between the two businesses and where all of that meat came from. He called her name to gain her attention and she flinched, slowly walking over to him. "There's no need for my entire name.. Tondé will do" she murmured shyly and glanced at him through her eyelashes again. Oh, not everything that she was taught as a 'proper lady' had been useless. He nodded in acknowledgement "I'll need you upstairs". For a second her eyes showed the relief. Although it was much colder upstairs she wouldn't have to smell the foul odor there. Perhaps some sort of rich gentleman would want to have her for his bed again but somehow she was sure he wouldn't let that happen. In a way he was possessive of her and although she didn't understand why it served her purposes in that case.