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Since they had started living together, Katara couldn’t help but notice a recurring detail. For her, hair was important—or rather, a daily battle. Her long cascades of brown hair tangled easily, and any time she tried to comb it without wetting it first, she ended up looking like Appa during molting season. Over the years, she had perfected which products to use and how, ensuring her waves stayed waves and not bird nests.
For that reason, she didn’t take hair lightly. However, while for her it was a routine, for her girlfriend, it was a ritual.
Azula dedicated at least half an hour every day to combing her hair. No matter how tired she was, she had to brush each strand exactly six times, at minimum. Katara had wanted to offer, more than once, to do it for her, especially when she saw her exhausted. But Zuko had once explained the importance of hair in the Fire Nation.
In the Fire Nation, hair is heavily linked with honor. Sometimes the losers of an important Agni Kai shave parts of their heads bald, leaving patches of their scalp bare to symbolize an extra level of humility from their defeat. But the topknot is always sacred. It's never touched except in circumstances akin to death. Because of that, instead of asking to do it herself or telling Azula to rest, Katara simply watched her, mesmerized.
“You seem to be paying more attention to me than to your book,” Azula remarked one day, looking at her through the mirror while combing her hair. Katara was reading in bed.
They were in the Fire Nation, spending one of the increasingly rare weeks they spent there. Azula was starting to feel comfortable in the Southern Water Tribe, and Katara wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of the Fire Nation—unsurprisingly—except when it came to Ember Island. That magical island where she had spent months when the weight of the world felt unbearable, thanks to Zuko, who, as the good friend he was, offered it to her. He conveniently forgot to mention that Azula was also there. To this day, Katara was still grateful to him.
“Your hair is gorgeous,” Katara said, her gaze fixed on her girlfriend.
Azula smiled, placing the comb on the table and signaling the end of her ritual. “I’m gorgeous.”
Katara rolled her eyes and set her book down on the bedside table. Then she lay back on the bed, opening her arms. Without hesitation, Azula quickly nestled into them.
“Gorgeous and warm,” Katara said, pulling her closer to her chest.
For some reason, every compliment Katara gave her still managed to make the firebender blush. No matter how much Azula boasted about her confidence, in Katara’s eyes, that faint blush was endlessly endearing.
Azula sighed and decided to change the subject. “Tomorrow’s going to be an exhausting day.”
“How long do you think it’ll take?”
Azula had a very clear role in Zuko’s reign: intimidating the ministers. Zuko could fulfill that role up to a point, but when a truly firm hand was needed, he always turned to Azula. Many times, these disagreements ended in an Agni Kai—matches that usually lasted three to five minutes, depending on how long Azula’s opponent spent monologuing about how she was going to lose. She never did. Even after all these years, Azula remained the undisputed best firebender alive, and every day, she only grew stronger.
“It depends on how stubborn Lord Wuan is. And on how long a speech he wants to give that day.”
“Are you going to fight?”
“I don’t think so. He knows his place.”
Katara rested her head on Azula’s, letting the scent of her shampoo fill her senses. Without realizing it, her hand reached out to gently stroke a lock of the princess’s long, jet-black hair. Hair was sacred to firebenders, but in the intimacy they shared, touching it was allowed. She couldn’t style it or comb it, but once Azula had taken care of it herself, Katara’s hands were free to explore it in any way she wanted.
Katara ran her fingers over a strand of her hair, holding it between her hands for a moment. She watched how it reflected the soft light of the room, then spoke in a calm voice, almost a whisper:
“What would happen if you lost an Agni Kai?”
Azula, who had been relaxed and at ease in her embrace, tensed slightly. A flicker of pride lit up her golden eyes before she replied with certainty:
“It’s not going to happen.”
Katara let out a small smile, amused by the conviction in her voice, but she didn’t look away from her. She stroked her hair once more before continuing:
“I’m not saying it because I think you could lose. I know it won’t happen,” she clarified. “But if it did… what would happen to your hair?”
Azula was silent for a moment. Her eyes softened, and her body, which had initially stiffened, relaxed once more. She slid her arms around Katara’s waist, pulling her closer. Her head rested against the waterbender’s chest as she exhaled a low sigh.
“I’d have to cut it.”
“All of it?” Katara asked, leaning slightly toward her.
Azula shook her head. “Just enough so I wouldn’t be able to do the topknot for a while.”
Katara gently released the strand of hair she had been holding. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the princess’s forehead. “I have another question.”
Azula barely lifted her head, just enough for their eyes to meet.
“Tell me.”
Katara smiled. “What about bald people?”
For a moment, Azula was silent, processing the unexpected question. Then a glimmer of amusement flashed across her face.
“Simple,” Azula replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. “They’re people without honor.”
Katara let out a soft laugh.
“That’s mean.”
“You asked, and that’s my answer.”
Katara couldn’t help but pull her a little closer, burying her face in Azula’s dark hair as she let out a quiet laugh. The sound echoed lightly in the room, warm and easy, as a soft chuckle escaped Azula’s lips as well.
***
Azula and Katara had already spent several weeks in the Southern Water Tribe when, one morning, Azula sat on the bed after returning from training and found herself staring at Katara as she stretched, slowly waking up.
“Good morning,” Katara said, her voice still husky from sleep.
Azula, however, was gazing at her with an intensity that made her girlfriend raise an eyebrow in confusion. After observing her for a few seconds, Katara noticed Azula’s hair was completely disheveled—a rare sight, considering she always kept it tied up in her signature topknot.
“I hate the humidity.”
Katara sat up straighter in the igloo bed, propping herself up on her arms.
“I can tell, yeah.”
Azula continued looking at her as if she were about to deliver some bad news, deepening the puzzled expression on Katara’s face.
“’Zula?”
“I need… no, could you…?” Azula glanced away for a moment before finishing, “Could you braid my hair?”
It took Katara a few seconds to process the request. Azula had just asked her to do her hair. Azula had just asked for a braid. Her Azula wanted her to do her hair.
“What? You want…? Are you serious?”
Azula lowered her gaze to the igloo floor. “Humidity’s a nightmare, and I’ve noticed… well, Ty Lee used to say braids help. A lot of people here seem to wear them, and…”
“Azula, you want me to do your hair? Me?”
“Well, I’m not going to ask your father.”
Katara took a deep breath, ignoring the comment, and leaned closer to her girlfriend, kneeling on the bed right in front of her.
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to—”
Katara cupped Azula’s face with both hands, making her look directly at her. She lightly squeezed her cheeks as a smile spread across her face.
“No backing out now.”
Azula nodded silently and got up to retrieve the golden brush, one of the few things she’d brought with her from the palace and which, somehow, didn’t look out of place in the igloo they shared.
She returned and sat on the floor, leaning against the bed as Katara settled herself at the edge, with one leg on either side of her girlfriend and Azula’s head resting between her knees. The firebender handed her the brush, which Katara accepted with delight.
“Are you sure?” the waterbender asked, turning the brush over in her hands.
“If there’s anyone in this life who’s not palace staff that I’d let touch my hair, it’s you.”
“Why does something that sounds so awful feel so sweet? You’ve corrupted me.”
The firebender’s laugh echoed through the igloo. “In more ways than one.”
Ignoring her girlfriend, Katara began to brush her hair gently. It was tangled, but nowhere near as bad as what she dealt with every day with her own. Feeling the knots gradually disappear, Azula closed her eyes and let her head tilt back slightly.
“A braid, then?”
Azula nodded as much as she could from that position. “I trust you completely.”
Considering what it meant for Azula to allow Katara to do her hair, those words weren’t necessary. Still, hearing them brought a warm feeling to Katara, one that had been deeply tied to the princess for a long time.
Katara nodded and began braiding Azula’s long hair. Her hair was so sleek that several strands slipped out, giving her more trouble than she expected. However, for someone from the Southern Water Tribe, braiding was almost an innate art, something you learned as a child. After a bit of a struggle, the braid was finally finished.
“Turn toward me.”
Azula turned to face Katara, who carefully adjusted the iconic bangs she’d left out of the braid. As she admired her handiwork, Katara leaned in slightly and placed a soft kiss on Azula’s nose.
“All done.”
Azula offered her a sweet smile and murmured, “Thank you.”
The firebender stood and went to look at herself in the mirror. Although she still had some hesitation about facing her own reflection, over the years, she’d learned to overcome that battle. As she observed herself in the small handheld mirror and saw the result of the hairstyle, Azula let a smile escape.
Katara stood, wrapping her arms around her from behind and resting her head on Azula’s shoulder. “So, do you like it?”
“It’s not bad...”
At that moment, Katara pinched her leg. “Be grateful.”
Azula let out a soft laugh. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Katara kissed her neck. “Though, knowing how important hair is to people from the Fire Nation, I feel like I should be the one thanking you for trusting me.”
“I always trust you.”
“Not with your hair.”
Azula set the mirror down on the table and turned in the waterbender’s arms. “I always trust you. The issue was… maybe I wasn’t ready, hair…hair is important in the Fire Nation as you know.”
Katara raised a hand to gently stroke Azula’s face, her thumb tracing a delicate path along her cheek. “Azula, I didn’t say it to make you feel bad.”
“I know…” Azula sighed. “But I want you to know it was never about not trusting you.”
Katara tilted her head, brushing her nose against Azula’s. “The braid isn’t just about the humidity, is it?”
Azula lifted a hand and tucked a strand of her girlfriend’s hair behind her ear in a tender gesture. “I want to feel closer to your culture.”
“We live in the Southern Water Tribe.”
“That’s exactly why. I want to do what I can to feel like I belong, to feel like one of you.”
Katara nodded, understanding what Azula was trying to say. “Well, since you’ve got the braid… today’s your turn to help clean the whale. Specifically, the intestines.”
Azula’s expression instantly turned into a grimace of disgust.
"I think I’m going back to the topknot."
Katara let go of her waist to grab her face with both hands. “No, no. It’s too late, princess.”
“I’m going to smell bad.”
“It’s too late. I’ve done your hair; there’s no turning back.”
Azula, instead of getting upset, allowed a faint smile to cross her lips before leaning toward her. Her intense gaze met Katara’s for a moment, almost as if measuring the moment, before she closed her eyes and brushed her lips against the waterbender’s. It was a slow kiss, full of intent, as if time had stopped around them.
“No, I suppose not,” Azula murmured against her lips, pulling away just a fraction, her warm breath grazing Katara’s skin.
This time, it was Katara who took the initiative. She gently pulled Azula closer, sliding her hands into her girlfriend’s dark hair, letting her fingers tangle in it. The kiss started tenderly but quickly grew deeper. As her fingers worked their way through Azula’s hair, Katara couldn’t help but undo the braid she had made earlier. The long, sleek strands slipped free, cascading like a black waterfall around Azula’s face.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against one another, their breaths uneven but their faces adorned with satisfied smiles. And though the braid was undone, neither complained about having to redo it.
In time, Azula became an expert at braiding hair, though she always asked Katara to do it for her whenever the opportunity arose. Katara, in turn, began experimenting with all kinds of hairstyles Azula requested, until one day she styled her hair into a topknot. From that moment on, Azula started wearing a necklace Katara had made especially for her—a necklace she would never take off for the rest of her life.