Author's Note, 5-26-17: On May 30, 2011, I started posting a story entitled "Beauty and the Blue Spirit", based on Disney's animated Beauty and the Beast and the midquel The Enchanted Christmas. A year later, May 29, 2012, I received an E-mail from saying that my story had been deleted. To this day I'm not entirely sure why they did that. I think I may have rated it too low. After that, I posted the second half of the story on FFN, and the entirety on DeviantArt.

Now, in honor of Disney's new live-action version, I'm revising and re-posting the entirety of the story on this account and deleting it from my DA account. I'm posting all the chapters now, but might continue to make adjustments, so even if you read through it all, it might be worthwhile to follow it so you can get updates about changes. Please feel free to point out any gaps I have left or make suggestions about details to incorporate from the movie.

This new version will incorporate things we have learned from the ATLA comics that have come out since I first wrote this story. I borrow a lot of language from the ATLA cartoon and comics as well as various adaptations of Beauty and the Beast. I will try to give credit where credit is due but I may not be able to keep track of it all as I rework this story.

Prologue

Deeper their voice grows and nobler their bearing,
Whose youth in the fires of anguish hath died.

~ Matthew Arnold, "A Modern Sappho"

Once upon a time, a young prince lived in a castle given to him by his father. This was not a gesture of kindness, but of hatred, for his father loathed him and wanted to keep him out of the way.

Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. He taxed his subjects heavily so he could continue attempting to satisfy his discontent. Many people thought poorly of him, but few dared to say so, and only one was willing to take action about it.

There was a legend about a spirit who had the responsibility of designing the faces of people and creatures. Once every season, she emerged from one of three pools in a forest, and at that time she granted one request to whoever came to her with a petition.

When Hama heard this story, she went to Forgetful Valley, and waited each night beside one of the pools. It took many seasons of waiting, for she could never predict which pool the spirit would emerge from.

On the Winter Solstice of the prince's eighteenth year, the spirit emerged from the pool her wolf chose, and found Hama waiting for her. The old woman was calm, almost deranged with ecstasy at the sight of the tree-like spirit.

The spirit spoke. "I am the Mother of Faces. Through me, separateness came into the world. Through me, came identity. The one became the many. I walk through my forest once a season, following the path my wolf chooses for me. I am a generous spirit, softhearted and kind. Each season, I grant one favor to one human. You may make your request now."

Hama bowed ingratiatingly. "Pardon this intrusion. I have heard that you can grant people new faces."

"That is true. Humans like you often chase after me, begging for new identities. Have you come to do the same?"

"It is not I who am in need of a new face. It is this nation's prince, Zuko."

"I remember him." The Mother of Faces conjured an image of the prince's face. When she designed each face, she knew how it would change over time. At every stage of his life, Zuko would have a pleasing face, sweet in his youth and strong in adulthood. He was now an adolescent, halfway between those points. "He has a fine face. Why would he desire a new one?"

"Oh, he does not. I want him to have a face so ugly, no one will stand to look at him. I want him to feel the pain of alienation and contempt and imprisonment, just as I have for so many years. And," she could not stop herself, having begun, "I want those who have served him to pay as well."

"Hmm." Intrigued, the Mother of Faces lifted a branch-like arm and held what seemed like a hand close to Hama's face. For the first time, fear started to dawn on Hama as she considered what such a powerful spirit could do to her.

"I sense great pain and anger inside you," the Mother of Faces observed. "You desire revenge, even if it can only be vicarious. You might have done better to seek out my son. He would be too glad to steal another of my creations."

Hama trembled. The truth was, she had considered asking Koh for this favor, but fear had held her back, for she did not know if she could keep her face expressionless for so long, and if she had failed, she would have lost her own face.

The Mother of Faces lowered her hand. "I will grant your boon, but on my own terms. I will not allow the youth to suffer for the remainder of his life, however short or long it may be. I will test him, to see if he truly merits the justice you seek; and if so, I will still provide him with an opportunity to redeem himself."

"You will need to procure two items for me: a mirror and a flower."

The Winter Solstice was not a widely celebrated holiday beyond the Poles, but in honor of their guests from the Northern Water Tribe, the prince's uncle had organized a party to observe the New Year.

"Good job decorating," Aang complimented, gesturing to the wall hangings and garlands around the great hall.

"Thanks." Meng smiled at him briefly. "It's nice to get some appreciation."

The prince's voice rang out through the great hall. "Bring me my presents," Zuko ordered. He sat upon a solitary red-and-gold throne. He was strong and well-built, with pale skin, and black hair tied up in a ponytail.

A servant girl named Suki knelt before the throne, holding up a wrapped package. "Your Highness." She spoke quickly, offering a slightly nervous smile. "Please accept this humble gift as a token of our appreciation. I know I speak for everyone when I say—"

"Oh, just give it to me." Zuko impatiently grabbed the package and ripped off the paper. Then he looked aghast at what it had contained. "A mask?" he said incredulously. It was a fine work of craftsmanship, but the face looked like that of a demon, grotesque. "You call that a present?" He tossed it to the side of his throne. "I hope you have something better for me, Azula."

"Yes, of course." Azula gave him a sickly sweet smile, sitting down at the organ bench. She ran her long fingernails over the ivory keys, and then started to play a song too deep to be cheerful, but too fast to be sad.

"What is that?" Zuko demanded.

Azula stopped play abruptly. "A piece in your honor, brother," she said icily.

Zuko scoffed, slouching back in his seat. "I hate it. Azula, that stuff is gloomy." Azula was visibly affronted.

Most of the servants and guests talked quietly near the refreshment table, watching the presentation of gifts from a safe distance.

"Has he always been like this?" Aang asked the prince's uncle.

Iroh shook his head. "I remember a time when Zuko was happy and reasonably kind. That was when his mother was still here."

"Oh." Aang looked at the polished red floor. He had never known his own parents, but he had always been cared for by good people.

"I haven't seen a blizzard like this since we left the North Pole," Princess Yue said, glancing at the window. The screaming wind whipped the snow in circles, horizontally, sometimes even straight up.

"Do you miss it there?" Meng asked softly.

Yue nodded. "But I think my father and I will be going back soon. Zuko clearly isn't interested in my hand in marriage, and frankly, I'm not interested in his. I couldn't love someone as cold-hearted as him."

Iroh sighed. "I think if he did find a wife, he would be happy and kind again. But he has no desire for love."

"Maybe you could find someone who would love his handsome appearance," Yue said bitterly. "But there's no girl who would love his personality."

Iroh tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm not sure that's true. As I said, he wasn't always like this. I believe there is still good in him."

"Yeah, but good inside him isn't enough," Aang said. "He needs to have good outside him too."

Someone knocked on the palace doors; the sound was distinct despite the howling gales.

"Who disturbs my Solstice?" Prince Zuko cried. through the rooms to the main entrance. Iroh followed him. He wrenched the door open, and stared outside.

Standing in the freezing cold was an old beggar woman. Her face was wrinkled and rather ugly; her clothes were mere rags, hardly adequate in a blizzard. In her hand the woman held a single blooming fire lily. At this sight, Iroh suspected something was not right, for fire lilies only bloom for a few weeks in the summer, and it was now the dead of winter.

Zuko was repulsed by the woman's haggard appearance. "What do you want?"

"My name is Hama," the woman said. "Please, sir, shelter from the cold is all I need. I have no money, but I can give you this flower." She held out the fire lily.

Zuko scoffed in disbelief. "I don't need a flower. Go find shelter elsewhere, peasant!"

"Prince Zuko," Iroh said, "I ask you to reconsider. You have nothing to gain from turning her away."

"Do not be deceived by appearances, Prince," Hama warned. "True beauty is found within."

"I don't have time for your proverbs," Zuko said dismissively. And with that he started to close the door. Iroh did not try to stop him, but looked through the opening with a strange mixture of sympathy and suspicion.

Suddenly a huge burst of wind blew the doors fully open. A bright light shone from outside. Zuko held up his arm to shield his eyes; but then he looked through his fingers, and gasped.

Hama's ugliness had melted away to reveal a beautiful young woman, with beautiful brown hair and smooth skin, dressed in thick blue furs. Despite her beauty, however, her expression was frightening, conveying pride and a cruel sense of triumph. Behind her, the Mother of Faces arose in all her ethereal splendor.

Zuko had never been so shocked, or so utterly afraid, in his entire life.

When the spirit spoke, her voice thundered and echoed, so that everyone in the castle heard her speak. "You have more than you could ever need, yet you refuse to show hospitality to someone close to death?"

Terrified with the realization that he had offended a powerful spirit, Zuko tried to apologize. "I—I'm sorry! Please—"

"It is too late," the Mother of Faces said. "Your words are not those of contrition, but of fear. I have seen that your accuser was truthful. There is no love in your heart. You may bend fire, but your heart is as cold as ice. You have been deceived by your own cold heart." She then turned to her gaze upon the servants and guests cowering in the adjoining corridors. "As for you, you have enabled and complied with his wantonness. You have allowed fear and a false sense of honor to hold you back and silence your lips when you knew he did wrong. To show that you are responsible for each other, and that your action or inaction affects others, you will share in your master's exile, and your destinies will be intertwined with his." She turned again to Zuko and proclaimed, "I curse your house and all within it. Until you, Prince Zuko, prove yourself able to love and be loved, you shall stay like this."

"Like—like what?" Zuko gasped.

Hama pulled a mirror out of her robes and handed it to Zuko, an ugly smile staining her beautiful features as she replied, "As aggressively unattractive on the outside as you are on the inside."

When Zuko saw his face in the mirror, his scream could be heard all the way to the North Pole.

The Mother of Faces made everyone in the world forget about the castle and its inhabitants. Dignitaries and relations no longer came to visit.

Ashamed of his monstrous form, the prince concealed himself inside his castle, with the magic mirror as his only window to the outside world.

The fire lily Hama had offered was truly an enchanted flower, which would bloom until Zuko's twenty-first year. If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would break. If not, he would remain ugly and deformed for all time, and his staff and guests would lose all mobility and sentience.

Disclaimer: Hama's last line is taken from the movie Beastly.