Ok yes it took a while I know. Believe it or not I had this half-written the day after the last one, before life pulled its usual trick.

This one is also a bit shorter than I typically like. I usually go for 1000 words at least per chapter in my stories and this one's only 800. Hope you like it still though. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula, any copyrighted plot lines, or show specific constructions. I think the characters are lost though, as I'd look after them much better than the original writers. XD

A Curious Contemplation

Vlad sat up with a shout, his eyes flying open and struggling to adjust as the torches set around the room ignited with his awakening. Breathing heavily he put his hand on the side of the coffin for support, looking down towards his feet as he gathered his thoughts. Clearly he wasn't in the Dreamworld anymore. For starters he was wearing the formal clothes and cape he'd been wearing in the throne room before and not the leather. Quickly reaching up with his free hand he checked his mouth, he was also fang-free; more evidence that he was definitely in the real world.

Heaving a sigh with relief he looked up, taking in his surroundings properly for the first time, only to take his hand off the edge of the coffin with another, quieter, shout; recoiling as if stung. He had no idea why he'd ended up in a coffin, clearly someone had put him there, though fortunately whoever it was had seen fit to include this coffin with a swivel mounted support bar which was presently propping the lid right open from a position just behind his head.

Feeling his heart beat slow gradually to a more normal pace he also noted something else very unusual. To his right on the other side of the room was his father's coffin, mounted on a stone plinth like he presumed his must be. This; however, was not his father's old coffin room. In fact neither was this the crypt, or any other room he recognised. At the end of the room where his feet were an opening in the wall led into a staircase which appeared to spiral upwards. There was a torch in a sconce at the end of both his coffin and his father's, and he could tell without looking that another one was on the wall behind him, with a partner on the other side of the room as well. It was really quite plain, very unlike a room he'd have expected to find the Count's coffin in.

Carefully he rose properly and climbed out of the coffin, making use of the stone steps that made up the base of the Plinth. It was then that something caught his eye and he turned, mouth opening in surprise. There was a reason he didn't recognise the room, it was because this room was different to when he saw it last…

The back wall, which he hadn't seen behind him, was not a solid wall. Instead it had a deep recess, making the room roughly T-shaped. In that recess stood two suits of full plate armour, and between them, the unmistakable door to the room containing the Blood Mirror.

Shaking his head he reached out for the solid support of the coffin to lean against as he stared in shock. What on earth was he doing down here with a pair of coffins?

Seeking answers he stumbled over to his dad's ornate black coffin and swung open the lid, only to find it was empty. Clearly he'd have to go elsewhere for answers.

Pausing for a moment he looked around carefully, making sure he hadn't missed anything. After a moment he straightened his cape, satisfied that the room really was as plain as he thought it was, and headed upstairs quietly. Whatever the scene was going to be like upstairs he wasn't sure, but he had a feeling it wasn't going to be all sunshine and happiness.

After climbing for what seemed like an eternity, staying as quiet as he could manage while still breathing, he reached the 'inhabited' part of the castle. Somehow he wasn't quite sure he'd come out where he expected to, and he briefly wondered if the corridors had rearranged, or if his memory was just faulty. Either way the room he came to first seemed deserted and so he kept creeping along, a little more confidently now that he'd come so far without running into anyone. At length he pushed open the doors into the throne room and looked around.

Predictably, the room was deserted.

Baffled he wandered further into the room and leaned against the table, something about the room felt off but he couldn't think what and ended up musing on everyone's whereabouts. Surely someone had to be around, he could see through the half-closed shutters that it was daytime, albeit wet, dreary and miserable, the castle couldn't be totally empty.

It was as this train of thought idled along through his head that Vlad suddenly realised what it was that had felt off about the room. It was so blindingly obvious that he almost kicked himself for not noticing it before. All the most prominent red drapes were now purple… Ingrid's colour.