A/N: Mayyyyyy have introduced too many characters. If a Part 2 and 3 happen I'll know more and will repost this in it's own story pared down
The One with Rosewater and Hellfire
The first thing Katara learns is the importance of names.
Her family and friends, all divine, call her Katara. It's her pet name, the name that's her and hers.
The mortals though, and any strange divinity, call her Persephone. Called that name, and she is a goddess. It summons up to mind all her powers and might - though truth be told Katara still isn't sure she has all that much.
Of course her parents think so. Her mother, Kya called Demeter, rules the earth. She sings the seasons to life, guards the crops, allows for life to flourish. Her father, Hakoda called Nike, gifts victory to those worthy of it. He's a skilled leader, too. Her brother is the messenger to Olympus and all the gods, to boot. Yes, he's a bit of trickster and may abuse his powers sometimes, but Kya is convinced that Sokka called Hermes will "level out."
Basically, they're all called on regularly by mortals, and Katara just isn't. She does have a dedicated if small group of florists who love it when she creates a new flower or restores a favorite rose bush.
Katara is just biding her time until she can create her own home, not just an add-on to her mother's shrine. Then, she'll be at the feet of Aesculapius for weeks to learn healing. She knows what flowers are good for health already, so Katara is sure it will be an easy appeal to take that under her power.
Hopefully Zeus will be amiable.
It's been ages since Ozai called Zeus took control of Olympus.
With the help of Demeter and other powerful deities, Zeus destroyed Cronus, once called Azulon, and took the throne himself.
That's when he "rewarded" his five main allies.
Demeter escaped, mostly because she is tied to earth - and though she's a kind mother she's unafraid to destroy the mortals and their food to survive Zeus's wrath.
To his widowed brother who lost his son in the conflict, Iroh called Herah, Zeus gave the dominion of marriage, fidelity, heirs, and empires.
To his ally Pakku called Posiedon, he gave the seas and waters, leaving him practically powerless in the heavenly realm that Zeus took for himself - and the fearsome lightning bolts to go with it.
To his wife, Ursa called Hestia, he gave her dominion over hearth and home, even as she vanished, practically cast out, for mysterious reasons.
And to his son, Zuko called Hades, he gave the Underworld, the care and keeping of the dead and the judgement of their souls, the only gift that outright banishes him from Olympus without saying so.
Zeus curses his son to loneliness, marks him apart from rest of the gods with this scar of death, for the sense of otherworldliness and not-belonging hangs around the Lord of the Underworld.
He does not say that Zuko was meant to be chained there under different circumstances, and that the actions that sent Hestia from Olympus kept Zuko among the living gods.
Katara does avoid Olympus, mostly at her mother's behest. She knows Kya doesn't want to lose both her children to the wild court.
This doesn't mean she doesn't have any friends.
Toph called Hephaestus, the blind but brilliant metalworker of Olympus with a wicked sense of humor, has become her best friend - once initial prickliness was overcome. Toph regularly brings her new projects when she visits - always the delicate work, never the war creations other gods are fond of. In turn, Katara gives Toph flowers, garlands for her head, neck, and workshop, delicate creations to inspire her in turn.
Sokka often brings his consort around, Suki called Athena. She's a lot wiser than Sokka, even if as young. As both are great strategists, their games of chess or mock battles are highly entertaining and well matched.
Aang called Apollo used to come around a lot as well, bringing a sunny disposition - though not the sun itself - and bright music and poetry. Always quick to a laugh, Katara genuinely liked her friend, but he got rather sullen after overhearing her rebuff Jet called Eris with the declaration she doesn't to take a consort so young.
Katara is sure his wounded heart will heal with time, and then their friendship will be better than ever.
Even with these friends and allies, Katara doesn't mind avoiding Olympus. There's a small trio of goddesses that give her pause.
Ares, the sister Hades and daughter of Zeus, is the trio's leader. She's beautiful, of course, and smiles, but she's a goddess of war and terrifying when angered. Katara gets the sense that most do despise her, for her poorly hidden violent tendencies.
Aphrodite doesn't, though, the sweet, beautiful goddess who is smarter and more limber than she looks. Enyo doesn't either, and the two are Ares's constant companions.
The days pass the same.
Wake, though he does not really need to sleep.
Eat, though he does not really need to eat.
Judge the dead, though only if his appointed judges cannot come to a decision once the soul has been weighed.
Tend to the horses of the chariot he hardly uses.
Maybe he'll stop by the Styx and chat up Charon, though he usually frightens the new arrivals with his confident play with Cerberus.
(He used to occasionally stop by Olympus, in spite of his father, but he once saw a goddess as lovely as springtime and joyful like a wood nymph. His heart thumped in his chest until he heard the rumors of her protective parents, and how she herself rebuffed all suitors. He only saw her once, anyway, but he never felt such a heart beat again. He doesn't go anymore.)
Eventually night will fall, though in the Underworld there's no real change, only the clocks to tell the time, and the Lord of the Dead will retire to his chambers, alone, to fall into a sleep without rest and without dreams.
Well, perhaps not without dreams.
Katara's always running in her dreams now.
Not in fear, no, in play.
She's always laughing as she runs across as endless field of flowers at the start of her dreams. She's happy and at peace.
She always throws a glance over her shoulder at the figure chasing her, someone with a face she can never remember when she wakes, though he feels safe, familiar like an old friend.
He's dark, and powerful, but in her dreams when she turns and laughs, again, he only grins and chases harder, faster.
Katara wakes up wondering what would happen if he caught her.
He is going to strangle Morpheus the next time they meet. For his cousin to torment him so, him a ruler of one of the world's spheres.
He has to catch her, just once.
He has to hold onto her smooth hand and behold her laughing face, actually commit those smiling eyes to his memory so should he ever meet her living copy, he can keep her.
He will not be denied.
Katara wakes one morning and has to walk; has to move and think through the dream she woke from.
He caught her, mostly.
His hand, cool to the touch, slipped around her wrist and he pulled her into his gravity. She tucked herself into his chest with a small thud, and then wiggled until she was comfortable.
With his breath hot on her ear, he murmured, "oh you," and made as if to kiss her.
That's when she woke up, and why Katara's going to walk the whole earth if she has to in order to feel somewhat normal again.
She's strolling through a field somewhere, one that edges off into a cliff, when she spots a dying flower. The land is lush, full of nutrients and water, so there's no reason for it to be wilting. With a huff, Katara starts to sing it back to life.
It only takes a few minutes - the six-petaled flower resists a bit as if it were determined to die. Katara makes a note to return tomorrow.
She sleeps without dreaming that night.
That's exactly what she does, and she finds the white flower near death again. With a little more fire in her voice, she sings the flower back again. It takes less time, so Katara bounces away, full of success.
When she returns the third day, to find the flower almost dead, Katara sits down next to it, lifts the flower up, and sings again.
This time, she sings a song of hope, and the sun, of a life of beauty. She brings the flower back and keeps singing, pouring the springtime of her soul into this flower that it might stand on its own without her. She pours her will and determination that others might dismiss as mere hope into the flower, and when she pulls her hands away, the flower stands on its own with a strength it didn't have yesterday.
Katara hums in happiness, and turns to leave.
A voice, deep and rich but thick with emotion, calls out from the shadows beneath the cliff.
"No, please, keep singing."