Jubilant
Zuko wasn't sure if he should blame his mother for this, but he had a pretty good idea that she was, indeed, behind this.
Fireworks exploded overhead, lighting the night sky in a million different colors. Lanterns were strung across doorways, giving off a gentle light as Zuko walked through the crowded marketplace. A pair of young women hurried past, tossing a halfhearted, giggling bow to him as they recognized who he was. He caught a fragment of their conversation, surprised and excited that Fire Nation women used to dress in such pretty, colorful dresses and glad that they had the chance to dress like that again. They loved the hair ornaments, the bracelets, the flowers. It was all so decadent, so beautiful. They were glad to have it back.
Zuko looked down at his daughter, Ira, resplendent in a light pink sleeveless dress with a red sash at her waist. She looked up at him, gold eyes shining with pure joy and delight, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. The hair ornaments she'd received that morning in the shapes of jeweled koi fish and dragons tinkled in the night air.
"You look beautiful, honey," he said. And he meant it. "It's hard to believe you're fourteen today. You and Khan, both. All of you are growing so quickly."
Ira giggled behind her hand in a way that was just so Katara, and he kissed her forehead.
"Hey, dad, want to see something mom taught me?"
Before he had the chance to answer, and to wonder when she'd stopped calling him daddy, Ira was off like a shot, heading toward a nearby fountain. He didn't miss the way a group of boys watched her as she passed by them, or the way she gave them a little wave, or the way they elbowed each other. Before he had the chance to go off after them, a strong hand pulled the back of his robe.
"Down, boy," Katara said, chuckling. "This is a festival. And they're not kids anymore, remember?"
Zuko sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes again, Ira was waiting impatiently at the fountain, and Khan had joined her. He grabbed Katara's hand and went toward the twins. He'd been so amused by them. Both with the same deep golden eyes, more like Ursa's than his own and black-brown hair, Ira a waterbender, Khan a firebender. In the twins, he and Katara were perfectly mixed.
People slowed as Ira began to move, swinging her arms with a youthful gracefulness and making the water shoot up into the air in a great jet. Her face was calm and smiling, the lantern light reflected in her eyes, as she spun around, the water following her, taking the shape of a dragon, and not to be outdone, Khan did the same, his face a little more serious than his twin's as the people began to clap.
Katara stepped forward at a familiar mischievous glint in Khan's eyes, and Zuko grabbed the back of her dress.
"Down, girl."
Khan's fire dragon gave a great whoosh as it dove toward Ira, and she yelled at her brother, whipping her dragon away to keep it safe.
"Zuko don't let your children mess up your mother's festival. She worked hard on it," Katara scolded.
Zuko snorted. "Despite what she might say, I'm pretty sure she planned this to coincide with the twins' birthday. If they mess up her festival, maybe she'll think twice."
"You don't really mean that! That's horrible," Katara said, her hands going to her hips.
"No." Zuko turned back to his children. "But they seem to be having so much fun."
When Katara huffed, he just wound his arm around her waist, pulling her against his side, and she huffed, but stayed put. The crowd around Ira and Khan had dispersed, and Ira was yelling at Khan that his fire better not touch her dress or Agni as her witness she will end him. It was such a Katara thing to do. In fact, he was pretty sure Katara had said pretty much the same thing to him. There was a complete rightness about world, about everything in front of him.
Peace.
He felt Katara's arms tighten around him, and he kissed her forehead. He fought the smile for a while, but when the twins looked over at them, momentarily pausing in their battle to flash their parents with matching smiles. Zuko studied the image, did his best to commit the entire scene to memory.
This was what he fought for.