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Unbelievable.
Katara was still standing and staring at the doorway that her young daughter had disappeared through, shaking her head in disbelief.
She had come in to wake her four-year-old daughter twenty minutes ago. As she walked in, she found her girl up and at 'em already, picking out her outfit for the day...by whirling every available option out onto the floor "acuz it's easier to see." After the matter was settled — a pair of flowing yellow pants that Katara was pretty sure used to belong to her oldest, underneath a blue wrap tunic that was deemed to be *sooo soft* — the task of cleaning up began.
How can one small person create this much to clean before breakfast? Katara wondered. She glanced over at her daughter, a ball of motion haphazardly scooping clothes back into her wardrobe, and chuckled. Judging by the state of her mane of hair, the girl had spent most of her sleeping time in motion as well. "Hey sweetpea, let's try and tame that hair of yours a bit, hmm?" Katara said over her shoulder, grabbing a comb from the endtable. Fond memories of her youth niggled at the edge of her mind, mornings where her own mother calmed her waves back into a braid before sending her out to play.
The last armful of clothes were dumped unceremoniously in the wardrobe, it was closed with an impressive thwump, and Katara was met with the one-two punch of sweet and blunt that only her daughter could deliver. The sweetness came in the form of a brilliant grin — it was still striking to see her own grin looking at her out of a small face rather than a mirror — while the blunt was in the message of the words. "Hm, okay, but not you. Dad does it better. I'll go find him!"
With that, she snatched the comb from Katara's hand and skipped off in search of Aang, leaving one very baffled mother in her wake. "Dad does it better? Dad doesn't even have any hair, how could he do it better?!"
Katara began to pace the room, reverting to her old habit of playing with her hair. Hair which she had styled in multiple ways. Hair which she had had for her entire life. Hair which she had taken care of on her own for nearly two decades now, in every type of climate imaginable.
Aang? Aang didn't even own a comb. He had had an inch of hair for like a month in the entire time Katara had known him. His version of haircare was to shave it off.
By every imaginable metric she could think of, she should be the clear winner of Best Parent for Hair Duty. "Apparently though, I'm losing to the voluntarily bald man," she muttered to herself.
She crossed her arms with a huff and sat on the edge of the bed, still looking at the doorway. This little girl of hers had always been sure of herself, but this age was letting her speak up about it even more. "I never gave my mother this much trouble," she said with a soft shake of her head.
The thought had barely had time to settle before memory drifted up to meet it.
A sense of impatience floated at the forefront of eight-year-old Katara’s mind as slender fingers tugged at the hair near her nape. “Sokka will already be outside by the time we’re done, hurry mom!”
Behind her, Kya laughed gently as she combed her fingers through a section of her daughter’s hair before leaning down to wrap an arm around Katara in a fond hug. “Still for a moment, sweetie. The emotions that you weave into your braid are the ones you carry with you through the whole day. Besides, your brother may be outside first, but there’s no one to play with until you’re done.” She bopped Katara on the nose gently, earning a giggle.
Once her mom was taken, plaiting her own hair was a bit more perfunctory, often just a chore done on muscle memory rather than with intent. Sometimes it was a bit more fun — trying out new styles to see what Aang thought was always a rewarding experience — but she missed those calming, settling moments with her mom. Slowly, realization settled over Katara. While she hadn’t ever pictured it, she’d been assuming she’d have that mother-daughter bonding time again, even if she’d be on the other side of the comb. It stung a bit that the expectation she had unknowingly carried in the back of her mind seemed as though it wouldn’t manifest.
Well, Katara thought, refocusing with determination. We’ll see.
She didn’t have to be second-best forever. Whatever Aang was doing, she could surely do as well. With that in mind, she stood from her seat on the edge of the bed and set off to find the pair. Let’s see your technique, Avatar.
Katara followed the sound of happiness — Laughter? During hair combing? — and the low rumble of Aang’s voice until she came upon them in the space that served as a home office when needed. The room had now become a salon with a very particular clientele. Katara paused in the doorway, intent on capturing the scene without alerting them to her presence.
Morning light spilled through the open balcony doors, catching the loose strands around her daughter's face. Aang had turned the chair fully away from the desk, focusing his attention on his other forever girl, the pint-sized one. Scrolls littered the desktop behind him, abandoned in favor of his recently assigned duty of personal hairdresser, a much preferred task to be sure.
Their daughter was standing on the floor between his legs, one elbow propped up on each of Aang’s knees. Her wild waves were in easy reach of his hands as she faced away from him, watching out the open doors. Excitement lit up her features as she noticed a squirrelchuck scurry across the balcony railing. She whipped her head around to make sure Aang saw it too. “Did you see that daddy? He was runnin’ and bouncin' across there! I’m gonna do that too!”
Aang chuckled. “Is that right? I believe you could, wiggleworm. But maybe we stick to the first floor balcony railing for you for now.” Katara bit her lip to remain silent and unnoticed by the pair, trying to just be glad that he had focused on keeping their child to “only” a potential three foot fall instead of a plummet from the second story. She watched as the small head swiveled to face away from her father again, Aang reaching out to gently lift a section of hair. “Now, try and stay still as much as you can while I get these tangles out, okay?”
A long suffering sigh was the response at first. “Okay… but it’s not what I’m best at, and Uncle Sokka tells us we gotta ‘work to our strengths.’”
Katara covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. She’d have to let her brother know his advice was considered valid… by a preschooler. For now, she was still unnoticed in the doorway, trying to learn the secret hairbending forms that Aang had apparently mastered. Alright, let’s see these combing skills.
Aang didn’t need to cover his laughter, and let it flow into more chatter with his little girl. “Oh really?” he asked, holding the hair firmly just above the tangle and starting to comb from the ends.
What’s he doing down at the ends? Katara wondered. Those waves were untamed all the way from the top. It didn’t seem very efficient to start at the bottom. Still, she had come to learn, so she kept watching.
“Well I’d say you have a lot of strengths. You’re always very sure of yourself.” The little girl puffed out her chest proudly, grinning. Aang finished teasing out that knot and moved up to the next. “Your laugh is amazing, and you’re great at making other people feel happy too.” She started bouncing on her toes before catching herself, trying very hard to remember she was supposed to be staying still. Aang smiled, patiently waiting until she settled again before moving on to the next knot. “Active things, absolutely.” Their daughter was practically vibrating with pride at this point, Aang continuing to talk to her while not stopping his task.
Lift, hold, detangle. One small bit after another. It was slow progress – slower than Katara ever did with her own wild hair – but it did seem to be working.
“And,” he began, a teasing lilt to his voice, “you are almost unmatched at getting your hair all wild. Try all you want, sweetpea, but your furry head is still not half as tough to comb through as Appa’s.”
“I don’t got fur, daddy!” she called out, her bright giggles weaving with his own lower laughter.
Realization settled over Katara for the second time that morning. While Aang may have never had hair on his own head, he had probably grown up combing far more “hair” than she had. The amount of fur on a ten-ton sky bison is no joke, Katara knew that from the occasions on which she had helped. Aang never let Appa’s care go overlooked, and it would make sense that Aang would find the gentlest way possible to get the wind-whipped tangles out of his pal’s fur not wanting to hurt him, even just while grooming. The trade-off of extra time would be worth it to him.
It was clearly worth it to their daughter.
The comb was now gliding effortlessly through the ends of her hair. Only one snarl remained near the top, and Aang paused. “Okay, almost done. Only one spot left. I know only one more way to defeat the tangle monster.”
Katara leaned in further, peering around the doorway, curious.
“A tickle attack!” Aang called out as his fingers dove, dancing over their little girl’s ribs. The squeal of delight in response echoed off the walls and she was still laughing as he teased the final knot apart.
When finished, he planted a kiss on top of her head. “Okay, sweetpea. All done. Why don’t we show mama how fantastic you look, and maybe she can braid it?” He swooped her up in his arms, grinning as he turned them both to face Katara in the doorway.
Aang sent a lopsided grin to his wife, daughter still squirming in his arms with the last echoes of laughter. Hair, finally tamed, caught the light in soft waves that still refused to behave completely.
“What? How did you know I was…”
He winked at her and glanced down at his bare feet, flexing his toes on the stone floor.
Right. Earthbender senses. Katara rolled her eyes. Of course. “How did you know I was waiting to braid this little one’s hair so she can get out to play already?” she amended, crossing the room to the pair and tapping their daughter gently on the nose, earning an immediate giggle.
Katara smiled. She had a much better idea of the things to try when combing their baby girl’s hair now. But even if she never truly won over the Best Hair Duty Parent position from Aang, getting to see her husband and daughter like this? It was a trade she could live with.
The girl reached for her, already wriggling free of Aang’s hold. Katara gathered her in easily, fingers moving to brush back the softened strands at her temples as her daughter wrapped small arms around her neck in a hug. “Let’s go braid it, mama!”
The emotions woven into this braid would be good ones indeed.