⤷ the ciarán house

carrying the final dish to the table--a porcelain tray of slice and freshly baked bread, she calls out to the lively group, "time to eat!". a motherly smile graces her face as she observes the faces that surround the table, the two new ones somehow made their home feel fuller and warmer, as though it were complete at last. her eyes fall onto silas then aspen, and she prays to herself, wishing that will things work out and by the end of the year, perhaps she'll have a daughter-in-law. the tray is set onto the table with a soft clunk against the mahogany table, and minjung slides into her seat besides eoghan. "sit, sit! and don't be shy to eat like a famished sailor, aspen and noah. i'll only take it as a compliment if you do."

at his son's beckoning, silas outstretches his arms and takes the small child into his embrace, smiling at how attached he'd grown to noah in the short months they spent together. the two of them were tied by blood—which was perhaps significantly one of the reasons why the older male felt such an attachment to his son, but it was amusingly peculiar just how similar the child was to him in his studious, quiet nature--and of course--in his undying love for a particular baker's blueberry tarts. "i consider this highchair one of my oldest and dearest friends but /seeing/ that i can no longer fit, it's yours," he laughs and announces to the boy in his arms, carefully situating him into the seat before securing him in.

"i wan sit in da chair and eat a wot of fuds!"

she nods, gaze flitting to his parents too and what she sees there almost makes her giggle; they were too precious, not like the cold canvases she had known as parents. the ciaran home filled her with warmth and knowing she was accepted there always brought her to tears. cooing softly at noah to soothe him, she frowns slightly when his whines get more impatient, louder by the minute. but it's significantly calmer when silas's mother approaches them, a slice of an orange in her hands which noah happily takes to munch on. both women laugh, cooing at the little boy and his antics that they don't notice silas rushing back in with the same giddy smile noah had. aspen looks up at him, her own lips curved into a grin. "look, baby! you wanna sit on the chair?" she coos at noah who nods, his little arms reaching out to silas to hold.

"he might fall over on the cushions— but i believe we still have my old highchair somewhere around in the house...maybe upstairs?" silas' eyes go from his father to his mother, requesting for confirmation. they look at him the same, confused and when neither of them respond, he clicks his tongue and gives a small laugh. "let me go check, darling." with that, he leaves the room and ascends the creaky staircase in search of the highchair that hosted many of his enthusiastic meals as an wee infant and toddler. appearing back into the dining room, carrying the piece of old wooden furniture, silas replaces one of the chairs with it before grinning at noah and aspen. "found it! i'm surprised at how sturdy it still is even after all these years. should we try it out?"

it wasnt in her to just stay idle so she found stuff to fidget with, fixing the slightly off spoons and plates. it wasnt until silas was beside her that she allowed herself to relax, hands finding their son on the chair. “That, i understand all too well!” She laughs, watching as Noah tried to sit properly but he was too small, the table towering over his body. she nods at papa’s words, picking Noah up again and gently pacifying him with promises that he would get to sit at the table too. ”Darling, do you think we can pile cushions on the chair for him or i can sit him with me?” she asks Silas, brows furrowed shyly

he nods at his son's words, admitting to him and his wife's attentiveness. after all, aspen was the one and only woman silas brought home to meet them; he and minjung were more than just ecstatic to prepare this dinner, no more how ridiculous they may appear in other's eyes. "we have it all under control. and since you two are so adamant about helping out, you two can help clear dinner while we oldlings can rest our poor old knees."

in his arms, noah comfortably stays as he carries them both over to the dining table for dinner. the warmth that radiated from their company was slightly unsettling but in the best of ways. silas couldn't remember the last time they had guests over. but aspen and noah weren't guests, were they? they were family, and that simple awareness brought a smile onto his face as he set noah down into one of the chairs. "i tried to help too, but they ushered me out of the kitchen and told me to get ready—at seven in the morning," silas laughs, taking a few steps over to pull out aspen's chair for her. "they have it all under control, ma chérie."

alright alright!
i laugh, the sound hearty as i pick up the other plates and bowl of stew, traipsing back to the table to help set. i almost begin to speak but the chiding in papa's voice makes me blush and i just settle to making sure the bouquet of daisies noah and i had picked was the centerpiece on the table, the blush intensifying and still shy.
i i would still like to help..

"don't you lift a finger, dearest. silas' om might not mind manual work, but i beg to differ." with that, he gives a light wave of his hand and the doors to the china hut open seamlessly, four wineglasses magically floating across the room with an airy elegance before they place themselves onto the dining table, each glass aligning adjacent with the plates and cutleries.

of course, i would! rarely do we ever get to host dinner parties, so this is truly once in a blue moon opportunity. please let me enjoy it!
whispers the last bit to aspen with a wrinkle of my nose before whisking myself away to the dining area, carrying the plate of shrimp scampi and a few clean ones for dinner.