Wasn't life strange? Wasn't it so odd how you could be prepared for one very important thing since you were young, weighed down by but ready to take on the mantle of leader, and then have it all taken away in an instant because of something you had no control over? Wasn't it silly how you had to play it off like it was no big deal, that it was a relief that you didn't have that responsibility when in reality you suddenly felt like your life had no purpose?

Well. That's what Khwezi thought, at least. Khwezi, the Heiress turned Duchess when it was made apparent that she was immune to the disease that the lions of the Kitwana'antara bore. The unlucky royal. Or, in the eyes of some, lucky. Khwezi certainly didn't feel lucky, though she hid it as best she could. She felt lost. Unsure of where her place in the world was. All the things she'd been taught she'd have to do as the Queen were no more, given to her sister who was in a similar boat, except where Khwezi felt adrift at sea she could only assume her sister felt like she was drowning.

She felt isolated. Unsure of who she could talk to, if she had the right to speak of her isolation even while surrounded by family and pride members. And yet...there was someone who she felt safe to talk to. And it was to his den that she was currently walking, hopeful that he'd returned from the rogue lands.

Mezlijin had in fact just returned, so recently that he hadn't even seen his mate yet. But he heard Khwezi's footsteps before he saw her, and he readied his most comforting smile as the Duchess entered his den. It had been by pure accident that he'd become something of a mentor for her, stumbling upon her sobbing after she'd been found to be immune to the disease. He'd been a shoulder for her to cry on, and ever since then whenever the emptiness inside her got to be too much, she'd come to him to talk.

"Khwezi," he said softly, moving forward to brush his head against her shoulder. The lioness bowed her head and closed her eyes, a shuddering sigh leaving her as she did.

"I was hoping you'd be back. It's gotten worse," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Mezlijin made a soft, wounded sound as he pulled back and lifted a paw, gently pressing it under Khwezi's chin to make her lift her head a bit. She opened her eyes and he could tell they were dull even in the dimness of the den.

"Oh, my dear," he said quietly. "I'm sorry to hear that. Have our little tactics stopped working?"

"If I must be honest, I'm not sure they ever truly worked," she admitted shamefully, avoiding his eyes even as she allowed him to hold her head in his paw. "I tried, Mezlijin, I really did. Tried to find a hobby, tried to practice healing, praying to Pestilence...all these things we thought I might find joy in. And...it distracted me for a bit. But it never truly made me happy."

The leopon gave a little sigh of understanding and lowered his paw before motioning for her to join him in the den. She shuffled in and flopped down on the floor, letting the smaller feline curl around her as best he could. This had been so much easier when she'd still been young, but now that she was fully grown her mentor was a bit smaller than her.

"Have you told anyone other than me?" he asked once they were comfortable. Khwezi didn't say anything but she shook her head slightly. "I really think telling your family might help. If they don't know they can't help you, and I'm sure your sister would appreciate the help if you're willing to give it."

"That's not my role anymore, Mez," Khwezi protested weakly. "It's hers. It's my mother's technically. It's not 'the Queen and so and so'...it's just one lioness." Mezlijin didn't say anything to that, knowing that if he protested it would only make her more against what he was suggesting. Instead he sighed softly and nuzzled her shoulder to try to comfort her a bit.

"Well...perhaps your talents could be used elsewhere. You're healthy and strong, like me. What if you became a Guard? Or a Scout, like me? Or even a Hunter? Those are all very important roles within the pride and you'd be very busy."

"I don't know," Khwezi said with a wince. She'd never had to do those things before so she had no idea if she'd be any good at them. Plus wouldn't it look bad, a royal stepping down to a commoner's role? But what if she could help her pride that way?

"Something to think about then," Mez soothed. "You're not meant to live your life like an empty shell or a ghost, Khwezi. You are here for a purpose, and Pestilence hasn't chosen you to bear the burden of the disease, then perhaps your destiny is elsewhere." That made Khwezi quiet for some time, her mind slowly working around the problem to see where the leopon was coming from. Perhaps her destiny truly did lay outside the pride. Perhaps she was meant for something other than leading.

"Maybe....maybe I'll try," she said hesitantly after some time. Mez gave a little purr of encouragement and nudged her shoulder.

"That's the way, Khwezi. You won't know unless you try. And there's no harm in trying, really. Would you like to come with me the next time I go into the rogue lands?" The answer was again silent, but he spotted her nodding her head.

"Wonderful! I'll be sure to let you know before I head out again and we can make plans. We'll tell your mother so she doesn't worry about not seeing you for a few days, hm?"

Again, another nod. The two lay that way for a while until Khwezi felt a little less empty and a little more hopeful. She thanked Mezlijin before removing herself from his den, retreating back to her own to begin thinking about the life ahead of her. She may not be fit to be the Queen, but perhaps there was still a place for her within the pride.

WC:1064