20. Shield
In a world of injustice, vengeance, and hatred, there are only two things keeping Sweeney Todd safe from the rest of the world's greedy and lecherous ways.
The first, of course, is his razor. His beautiful, shining friend. It had waited for him to return after fifteen long years of being locked in that little mahogany box. His razor is his weapon, his loyal soldier, prepared to defend him to the death if the need arises. It is the executor of his dreams, singing through the air as he arcs it down into the unsuspecting throats of the men who come in for a shave. It keeps him safe in the day, soothes him when the thoughts of his bloodlust or of his shattered family become too much for him to handle. He can immerse himself in its reflection, for it echoes a day when Judge Turpin will cease to exist in the flecked surface of silver and red.
And the other thing that keeps him safe?
The other thing, though he loathes himself for admitting it even to himself, is Nellie Lovett.
She is a constant presence in his life, steadying him when his temper begins to flare dangerously, listening to him when he feels the need to speak, carrying out his every wish with a feverish devotion mocking that of a guardian angel. She hasn't really changed, he doesn't think, in the last fifteen years. She has clearly allowed the insanity within to pull her under, she possesses the haunting beauty of a woman broken by the times, and her eyes are hollow with words best left unsaid, but sometimes he thinks he can see a part of the younger Mrs. Lovett peeking through. However, his recollections of the vivacious pie maker are vague; most of his memories resonate with flashes of yellow hair like liquid sunshine and tinkling laughter like a warm summer's breeze.
His razor keeps him safe in the day, but Nellie keeps him safe at night. She somehow has the ability to calm his fears, her hands gentle when cloaked in darkness, palms pressed against the ruined skin of his back, soothing away the ghost of the scars. Her voice, usually so loud and abrasive, is gentle as she lies by his side, her accent softer, her tone soothing, spouting words that he can believe in the dead of night. She expects nothing of him; he has nothing to give but the twisted remains of his heart of stone, a love that does not exist in the soul of Sweeney Todd, yet one the baker is happy to meld into her fantasies, a jigsaw piece that will never fit, but whose cracks she can ignore nonetheless. Todd escapes with preserving the last remaining beats of his heart for his wife and child.
If his razor is his weapon, attacking righteously in his name, then Nellie Lovett is his shield, protecting him unwaveringly.