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Autsu was not in fact, home. Avrin had taken him for something... something about a job. It was only Kniene within the house, the silent, solumn father figure that had taken Autsu in when the boy had still been a furious, broken infant. And so Kniene had raised him into a furious, broken man.

The Lady called for change, but some things never did. And even She knew that, he thought.

He was carving when the knock at the door came, finding shape and form within a thick and knotted tree branch. He'd thought to make a walking stick, or something else useful. Helping a tree to change seemed appropriate. He did not always answer the door, as he rarely had visitors of his own, but... perhaps he was lonely. Sethos gone and Autsu, these days, rarely home.

So he rose, moving with a quiet grace, and pulled the door open.

Kian. Ahh, Kian. His child's other heart. Poor boy, to arrive second at the threshold of another's need. And he so seemingly naive about such things. Kniene was not stupid about the ways of people. He had lead them once, and lead well. And so... Kian.

"Kian, Lady make you welcome and keep you safe." He stepped aside, so the manboy might enter. "Autsu is out, but if you feel the time allows for it, I would enjoy your company over tea."

Perhaps it was time he spoke to the boy himself. It was not his place. But... the lady called for change. And for care to those in transition. Didn't Kian have the right, at least, to understand where he stood?

"My thanks. It grows quiet in this house as my children pass out of it. And even I can not be ever in conversation with the Lady." Even as he spoke he ushered Kian into the kitchen, well equipped with stools to accommodate for Autsu's wings and so, for Kian's tail. "You are kind, Kian."

He moved to the stove, putting the kettle on, and lighting the burners. Easier, admittedly, than dealing with an open campfire. But... he would always miss the smell of woodsmoke on the air. Opening the cupboards, he found a tupperware container with yesterdays lemon drop cookies, and some beef jerky. Both were placed at the table, and he leaned against the counter while he waited for the water to boil.

"Be comfortable. If you are hungry, I can perhaps find something of substance as well." He wasn't a great cook, but an efficient one, able to make edible food quickly, with minimal ingredients. "How looks the path you walk, of late?" And then, as if translating for himself, "How are you?"

"Mmm, kind of your father." Kniene murmured, watching the tea kettle with an expert eye. It was near boiling, and so he got out the ornate black tea pot he usually used, selected a tea, and continued to wait. In truth, a house like that would be good for someone like Kniene, who looked to children for distraction from his own hurt. He could do the Lady's work, around them. And all without the whisper of memory. Because he hadn't taken care of the children, back in the Guard.

And then he poured the boiling water into the tea pot, and brought the tea service over to the table, with honey and sugar and cream and two elegant cups, of the no handles variety. He poured, for the both of them, and then took his seat.

"I believe your first answer was most suitable. I am." His response was in that same, level, quiet voice. He radiated a quiet sort of serenity, autumn wind through dying leaves, the peace of sunset.

"A wise answer for any who knows that in the end, we do not call the dance." He tilted his head to the side, "But perhaps we can at least request a tune. I was surprised, when you came back. My son, his motives are difficult to understand."

Kniene did not respond immediately. He wasn't the one to speak to if you desired a fast paced conversation. Instead, he prepared his tea. He added first, a bit of honey, then a touch more, and then slowly stirred in cream until the tea turned a soft milky tan.

And then he sipped, and studied Kian over the brim of his cup as he sipped.

"You're one of the Lady's favored, Kian." He said, when he finally set the cup down. "This life asks... much change from you. And you walk the path without showing fear."

"Autsu is not so favored." And then, again, he was adding more honey, and sipping experimentally, and hardly seemed aware of Kian at all. Until he lifted his eyes, and watched the boy with piercing interest.

"He is accustom to being possessed. I do not think that he is capable of understanding your ability to love without possession.

"I do not know that I am." He used the word love without caution, though he knew, well enough, that the boys themselves did not use it. He was not them, to dance without language.

Children. Always determined to see love not as an emotion, but as an object, like a table or a cup of tea. If you lived in generosity, in closeness and kindness and sincerity with another, what other word was deserved?

If you lived in fanatic, tortured devotion, what other word could be given?

Perhaps Kian would have been better off never finding such as they. And then there would be no tea or talk of love, or of leaving.

Why did the one always seem to necessitate the other? Oh Lady, your dance is cruel.

"Because you walk your path with sincerity, Kian." He responded, voicing only the outward edges of his own thoughts. "You act as you feel. You are drinking tea with me not because you feel it will engraciate you to Autsu, but simply because I asked, and you think me kind."

"You forgive Autsu, you walk beside him and accept what of love he is capable of, because what you feel for him is stronger than the sense that tells you to avoid the pain he will cause."

"He does love you Kian. But he does not allow himself to know it. He lacks a soul to give you."

"The Lady does not allow me to wish for other's happiness, Kian. The best I am allowed is to wish for their growth." An irony there, for the Lady kept him in stasis, breaking her own commandments at the whim of desire. But never mind. This was not about him. Except that it was, for who, but he, could understand a boy such as Autsu.

Kian couldn't. He looked at it from the inside, and so misinterpreted the signs.

And there was little use in telling the boy. The child was locked in his own world view.

"Your words run quickly, you have let this subject play often in your mind." Kniene replied, choosing his words with care. There was no point arguing with Kian. No, the triclops was quite ready to defend his worldview, and become all the more entrenched in it.

"But tell me, Kian. What do you feel for Autsu then? What does he feel for you?"

"Surely it is not the mere absence of feeling that leads him to destroy himself without you. Surely you do not run these arguments through your head as merely an intellectual exercise."

"I would not call it wise to venture assumptions about another's feelings while admitting ignorance of one's own." It was stated mildly, in Kniene's usual restful, kind tone. And yet, it was clearly a reprimand, or as close as the man got to such a thing.

It wasn't, however, that he was getting impatient with the boy. No, there was nothing if not patience about him.

"Autsu looks to you for friendship and sex?" A rising tone, indicating a question, but the man didn't pause to allow Kian to answer. "And what is love then, if not that?

"If it is friendship such that he walks at your side, looks to you in admiration, strives for your approval? If it is devotion so that you needn't use more than a handful of words to destroy him?"

Kniene set down his tea.

"You call him incapable of it because he can not belong to you. And he can not. It is unfortunate. For both of you" His expression was one of sorrow. "But he gives you more of himself than he believes he is capable of giving. You should not belittle that."