I promise, this fic will get finished. Might be the worlds slowest fic, but it will be completed!

-YD-

Roqueloire found him before he found Vlad, but it turned out the half-fang had been looking for him ever since the news spread, which was how the vampire came to be stood in the castle a few nights later.

"This is the Chosen One?"

"Indeed. And he sought a tutor. I recommended you. Do not let me down now."

Bemused as he watched them, Vlad took in the sight of his new tutor. Tall and still looking like a breather in their mid twenties, Bertrand du Fortunesa (Vlad already knew he would not be able to pronounce his name correctly without practice) stood with the stance of a military man. His curly hair was left untamed, so Vlad wondered if he was just rigid in the face of tradition.

"I would just not have thought to look for the future of the vampire race in... Stokely."

Bertrand said it with distaste, which Vlad hoped was aimed more at Wales than him. Ingrid naturally hovered close by, eyeing up the newcomer.

"Yes, well, he's been something of a surprise to many. But the Crown accepted him, and he is able to channel powers despite being under the age of transformation."

"Fascinating."

Bertrand said quietly, before he finally stopped talking about Vlad like he wasn't there. He stepped in front of Vlad and dropped to one knee, head bowed in deference.

"What is it the Chosen One seeks from me?"

"First, stand up. I feel weird talking to the top of your head."

He also felt ridiculously short when Bertrand did stand up again, but Vlad felt short next to a lot of people. Roqueloire moved to Vlad's side - not his back, as requested.

"Anything else?"

"Well, you'll be shocked to know this is a pretty recent development in my short unlife. I need someone who knows about the history of vampires. Their wars, their politics. The clans and their disputes. I hear this is something of a specialist area for you. Roque also said you were a skilled fighter, so perhaps once I've figured out the extent of my powers, you can help with learning to master them."

Bertrand nodded along slowly as Vlad spoke.

"It would be my honour to guide the Chosen One."

"Yeah. So long as we stick to guide, not control. I don't really do taking orders well, and I won't be manipulated. Including by my father, who will undoubtedly attempt to influence you to influence me. He's having some mixed feelings about all this."

As if to prove a point, some lightning flashed outside. The Count was having a bit of a temper tantrum, after Vlad told him again that he wasn't about to rule the vampire world by proxy just because he was the Chosen One's father. He knew his father wasn't going to stop trying though. Immortality often led to a mix of laziness and stubbornness. And Count Dracula had always been power hungry and petulant.

"Understood."

"Good. This is Ingrid, by the way. She will look at you like she's going to stake you, but don't take it personally."

Ingrid scowled even harder, though Vlad was used to her looking like she was considering setting him on fire from across the room. Her neutral expression was best described as 'contemplating murder'.

"Good evening Ingrid."

Bertrand nodded in her direction, before turning back to Vlad.

"So, when would you like to start?"

"Not tonight. I still go to breather school, so if I'm training with you by night, I might not get another decent sleep until the weekend."

"Breather... school?"

Vlad nodded.

"Yes. For two reasons. One, it helps with blending in. Also, I like to learn, and I like to experiene these things. Once I turn sixteen, I lose daylight permanently and am condemned to eternity lurking in the shadows. I'm not wasting my last 'human' years."

Bertrand considered him in silence for a good minute or two, before nodding.

"They say the Chosen One will lead vampires out of the shadows. Perhaps this is simply part of your learning. I will take my leave and return one hour after sundown tomorrow, if you are agreeable?"

"Sure. Oh, and one more thing. No breather hunting in Stokely."

Bertrand's only notable reaction to that was one raised eyebrow, but he didn't argue - his thoughts weren't quite as polite as his words, Vlad noticed, but he never considered disobeying.

"Of course. You need to blend in. Vampire attacks would do little for your cover."

"Exactly. Do you need to be formally dismissed, or can you leave on your own?"

That earned him a small, amused smile, just a lopsided tilt of Bertrand's mouth, but he inclined his head.

"I will see you tomorrow sire. Good evening to you too Roqueloire."

"And good evening to you Bertrand. Thank you for volunteering your time and knowledge."

"Who could say no to the Chosen One?"

And with that, Bertrand turned and left, the castle door closing behind him before there was that little shriek of someone taking their first breath post-transformation, then the sound of wing beats as Bertrand disappeared into the night. Roque moved in front of Vlad, watching the young vampire-to-be fiddle with his Crown before placing it down on the table.

"Shall I return for your lessons, sir?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes - he'd asked Roque to call him Vlad twice already - Vlad nodded.

"Yes, at least for the time being. I appreciate that you recommended him, but I think a chaperone is wise at least to begin with. Plus, someone has to stop my dad staking him mid-lesson."

Roque didn't really smile much, let alone laugh, but Vlad caught the twitches of faint amusement in the older vampires face.

"Quite. I will return tomorrow."

Roque let himself out after that, and Vlad finally sank into a chair, slumped in his less-than-graceful way as he let out a long sigh.

"What's up with you, breather boy?"

Ingrid asked, delicately stepping around the table and lowering herself into a seat near him. He wasn't sure if this was Ingrid's weird way of showing she cared, or just her being nosy. Probably a mix of the two.

"This is my unlife now. Meetings and learning and commanding, my time is not my own and the expectations of the vampire world are on my not very broad shoulders."

She leant in, tapping painted nails against the wooden table.

"Vlad, stop being such a drama queen. You don't like the way biters do things now, and you've literally been handed the chance and the power to change it. Sure, you've got a busy couple of years ahead of you, but you're immortal. It's like spending two minutes changing your bedsheets to get a good nights sleep. Or day, eventually."

Despite his moping, Vlad had to admit she had a point.

"Thanks for the pep talk."

"Well, despite trying to convince myself otherwise, I don't want to see you staked for incompetence. So someone has to get you going."

"You already do that."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and Ingrid definitely understood what he meant. Vlad looked away, cheeks burning. Ingrid stared silently, then shook her head.

"Well, that's just a side effect of being me. I'm going to find something to drink. Shouldn't you be getting to bed?"

The sudden shift confused him, until he noticed Ingrid trying to keep her eyes off his neck. His flushed face and quickened pulse probably meant he smelled quite strongly of blood just then, and despite his vampire DNA, Ingrid's appetite still saw him as a viable snack. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded all that much; it would have taken his mind off everything else going on.

"Yeah, better had. Sorry if dad is in a bad mood."

Ingrid snorted.

"He's been in a bad mood for several centuries, from what I understand. I'll live... well, you know what I mean."

Vlad nodded, taking one last look at Ingrid, knowing deep down his longing was pathetic and pointless, before he forced himself to turn away and climb the stairs to his tower. He undressed and put the Crown away, then climbed into bed. He managed a few hours sleep, but his sleep-wake cycle was already suffering. Probably a mix of multiple late nights for VHC reasons and the fact that every time he put a particular pile of bones on his head, his vampire side got woken up a little more.

He caught up on some homework for school, and managed a half-hour nap just before sunrise. It left him a little groggy, but it was precious rest he'd likely value later in the day. Ingrid was still up when he headed down for breakfast, snickering at his garlic-awful bed hair as Vlad picked at the toast Renfield put in front of him. He'd won that particular fight with his dad a while ago - the Count had gotten sick of wasting perfectly good blood Vlad wasn't going to touch, and bread was a lot cheaper too.

Vlad was admittedly distracted at school, not to mention tired. Robin enquired if he was alright, but Vlad hadn't managed to explain everything to his friend yet, and so just mumbled something about a bad nights sleep and went back to trying to pay attention to the teacher.

He contemplated going back to bed when he got home that afternoon, but didn't want to risk oversleeping - or being woken by Ingrid dumping cold water on his face again. So Vlad made himself dinner and watched some TV to pass the time, castle awfully quiet while Ingrid and the Count slept the day away, and Renfield was... actually, Vlad wasn't sure. Probably chasing cockroaches to eat, or mixing weird potions. Or both.

Sundown was marked with the rise of the two vampires in the castle, leaving their coffins in search of blood - and chocolate, in Ingrid's case. The Branagh twins still routinely brought her gifts even though she'd left the school. He found it interesting how her taste buds hadn't fully gone over to vampire after transforming, and wondered if it was her Dimidius side or personal variation.

There was a knock at the door not too long after the sun went down, and Vlad got up, preparing to tell Roque that he shouldn't rush over from Transylvania that fast or he'd pull a wing muscle. Either that or preparing to let Bertrand in. He struck Vlad as the type to be early, or punctual to a T.

He was not prepared for who he saw at the castle door.

"Mum?"

-YD-

Nothing like a Young Dracula binge to get the old inspiration wheels turning!