Guest that I can only assume is my good old friend OwlLegendary000: Yes, it is I back from a visit to hell-er I mean, school. Yeah, I had heard about Great Comet before and after you suggested it to me, I went, "Well, why not?" and I fell in love with it. The moment that they mentioned Pierre in Prolouge I was thinking, "I'm gonna love Pierre, aren't I?" and guess what? I LOVE him! My mom found out that Pierre was played by Josh Groban and has started listening to it. Turns out that I've been listening to Josh Groban all my life. Before my life, even. She listen to him while she was pregnant with me. Which is pretty cool. I got the name Masha from the novel "War and Peace" actaully. I found out that it was the name of one of Pierre and Natasha's daughters and also thought of that show. I never watched it, neither did my little brothers, but I see it on Netflix all the freaking time, so it's kind of burned into my memory now. Lisa also comes from the novel. Loved your point about Sonya. I relate to her so much, it's sad. You're always there for your best friend, who only ends up hating you in the end.

(I'm sorry, this paragraph got too long, I'm starting another). I think that's a really interesting idea! I have seen Beauty and the Beast AUs on Wattpad before (that sight scares me), but never have seen one with King George as the Beast. That makes perfect sense, too! I say go for it. I've seen several stories (again on Wattpad) with Pippa and Johnathon shipped together, so I don't think it's strange. It's nice to do things a little differently. Besides, maybe it doesn't have to be a ship. It could just be a friendship that comes out of the story. I was going to write a story about Eliza and Lafayette falling in love (I love Hamliza more then anything, but I mean, this is adorable). It never turned out, but it was interesting. Anyways, thank you, always for the review and for reading my mess of an reply. :)

I don't own Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812.


"For your knitting projects, I want you to make a scarf. Now the scarf can be a gift for a parent, sibling, friend, anyone really that you want to give it to. You must embroider the person of your chosing's name on the scarf," said their teacher.

Masha and Lisa made eye contact. They already knew who they were planning on giving their scarfs to. Masha could already see the soft white scarf that she was going to give to her mother. In Natasha's favorite color. The fabric would go so nice around her graceful neck. Just as if a swan was wearing it. Meanwhile, Lisa only knew that the scarf she was making would have to go to her father. There was no one else that she wanted to give it to. She just had no idea as to what it would look like. Lisa was much better at words and numbers. Ask her what the last play Shakespeare wrote and she knew it. The Two Nobel Kinsmen. Masha was the more creative out of the two. As the girls picked out their yarn, Lisa tapped her friend and the back and said,

"Can you help me? I don't know what my papa would like."

"Of course!" Masha put her finger on her chin, in the way she say Marya do so many times before. "Let's see. . . What's his favorite color? We can start there."

"Probably yellow. He wears his yellow vest a lot."

"Perfect!" Masha dug around in the yarn basket. When she pulled her hand out, she was holding a ball of mustered yellow. "Will this work?"

"It's lovely! Papa is going to love it!" Lisa held the yarn to her chest.

A larger girl pushed the two girls out of her way. As she fell, the yarn slipped out of Lisa's hands. It tangled as it met the ground. Masha gasped, trying to keep any dirt off of the wool she had been carrying.

"Come on!" exclaimed the girl that had pushed them, "There are other people that need to get their yarn, as well."

"You could have just asked us to get out of your way, Sasha," whispered Masha, "No need to be so rude about it."

"Shut it. You know that I have been here since I was six. That means that I must be smarter then you. Because of that, clearly I am higher then you. Both of your parent's couldn't afford to send you here before now," Sasha snapped.

"Actually, Sasha," said Lisa, getting off of the floor, "Our parents loved us more then yours. They wanted to keep us with them for much longer. It seems that your parents wanted to get rid of you as soon as possible." She flashed her a sarcastic smile and helped her friend off of the ground.

The two girls returned to their seats. Masha was able to get started faster than Lisa. She tried to think of something other then Sasha and her mean comments. She didn't want them to affect them as much as they did. Masha yearned to be able to rub them off, just like Lisa. Or her mother. She could tell that some people had said awful things to her. Especially her father. Masha didn't remember her grandfather much. Only one time when she was about three years old and stumbled upon them arguing. Natasha was trying to convince Grandfather that someone named "Anatole" wasn't all bad. Grandfather seemed to disagree. Only calming down at the mention of herself. His granddaughter. At that Grandfather promised not to hurt Anatole.

Lisa was thinking about her father. She remembered a time where he told her about a man named Napoleon. Pierre hated this man with everything inside of him. She felt his excitement when he spoke of his death. According to her father, this Napoleon had invaded Russia the year before she was born and her father despised him for it. Lisa was amazing that Pierre wasn't the cause of his death.

When the Christmas season rolled by, the girls wrapped up their gifts. The school was holding a celebration for the families to come to before taking their daughters home for the holidays. Masha was shaking she was so excited for her mother to return to her. Being home was also going to be a relief.

The girls were lined up in front of the school to great their parents. They were supposed to sing a song before breaking off into their families. Instead the younger girls ran into their mother's arms before singing anything. The rest of the girls followed their example. Every teacher tried to separate them, but the task proved to be too difficult. Masha, lost in the madness, circled around, calling for her mother. Finally, she noticed her, doing the same.

"Mama!" she cried, running into Natasha's embrace.

"Oh! Masha!" replied Natasha, "I missed you, baby."

"There's someone I want you to meet, Mama," said her daughter, tugging on her hand, "Her name is Lisa. You know, the girl that I told you about in my letters. She's my best friend."

Lisa had already found her own father. She was speaking to him in such a fast voice, Pierre seemed confused. She saw her friend and waved her over. The two girls put their arms around each other's shoulders.

"Papa, this is Masha. I told you about her," Lisa began, "Masha, this is my father. Count Pierre Bezukhov."

But their parents weren't paying attention to her. They stared at each other. Mouths wide open. Neither of them moved. Trapped in the past.

"Natasha. . ." whispered Pierre, "I can't believe my eyes. . ."

"Pierre, I haven't seen you since, well, you know. I would have never imagined meeting you here," Natasha replied.

"It's been ages."


The two of them stood there awkwardly. Neither one knew what to say. Bringing up the last time they had met would only bring up painful memories. Masha and Lisa gave each other a look. Lisa tugged on her father's coat.

"Papa, how do you know Masha's mother?" she asked, with wide eyes.

"Our families. . . Our families were good friends." Pierre caught a glimpse of Natasha's hand as she fixed her daughter's hair. A wedding ring. Suddenly, he felt very aware of the ring on his own finger.

"Yes, that's right, girls. Let's go inside to eat, shall we?" Natasha took Masha's hand. In turn, she took Lisa's hand who took Pierre's hand. The four of them walked out of the cold together.

Neither adult could pay much attention to what their daughter was telling them. They could only think of the events that brought them here. Pierre didn't know that Natasha was married. To whom? Not a man from Moscow. He knew all of them and their wives. Natasha knew that his ring was from his marriage with Hélène. Lisa didn't resemble her father at all. There was only Hélène in her.

The two friends embraced as they said goodbye. Masha had tears in her eyes. She would miss Lisa. Both of them would miss each other. Then off they went to their separate carriages. Masha to the countryside. Lisa back to her home in Moscow.

"Proshchay!" called Lisa over her shoulder.

"S rozhdyestvom Hristovym!"

After Christmas, they said farewell to their parents and headed back to school. The girls talked all night about their adventures. In the morning, they were exhausted from their lack of sleep, but still had more things to tell the other.

There were classes to return to. Other girls to great. Of course, more stories to tell. Over the break, Pierre had told Lisa several stories. Fairy tales and Myths. Mostly because he wanted to change the subject when she asked him about Natasha. Lisa went on to tell her friend all about them.

Two months went by. Typhus was going around at the school. The teachers warned their classes about sharing brushes with the other girls. Every girl's hair was inspected for lice. Masha hated having the examination. Both girls were cleared, though. Much to both of their relief.

During class over the next three weeks, Masha had been getting terrible headaches. She had to ask her teacher to let her go back to her room. Her head was getting worse each day. Lisa tried to get her to see a doctor, but Masha was stubborn.

"They said that I was alright, Lisa," was what she told her friend.

Before bed one night, the two girls were reading. Suddenly, Masha set her book down. She blinked a few times before asking,

"What are we doing?"

"Reading, Masha. We like to read before bed," explained Lisa, "Are you alright? You don't seem so."

As she pulled her hair back, Masha's sleeve fell down. Exposing a rash made up of several red dots. Lisa gasped. This was what all the other girls with Typhus had before going home to be treated. Shaking, Lisa pointed to the marks on her skin.

"M-Masha, that's a Typhus rash," she said, "That explains the confusion and headaches, too. Oh Masha! You can't die like the other girl did!"

"It's just a rash, Lisa. Don't be so dramatic."

"No, that's definitely a Typhus rash. We need to get you to the nurse."

After much convincing, Lisa was able to get Masha out of bed and into the hallways. No one else was around. The feeling was unwelcoming. It seemed as if it were foreshadowing something terrible about to happen. A teacher passed them, on her way to check on the students. Her eyebrows narrowed at the sight of the two girls out of bed.

"And what do you two think you're doing?" she questioned, in a stern tone.

"I found a rash on her arm." was all Lisa needed to say.

The teacher grabbed Masha's arm and examined it. Without saying a word, she began taking her away. Lisa whispered a goodbye to her friend. Only hoping that she would be able to see her again.

Parents began to arrive at the school to take the girls home. It didn't matter if you were sick or not. The school was going on lockdown for some time until the epidemic passed. Natasha was one of the first. She had been staying with Marya before learning the news about her daughter. Lisa wasn't even able to say "get better" to her friend. Pierre arrived a day later. When he found Lisa in distress, he asked her why.

"Masha was one of the girls who got sick," she told him, "I'm just worried about her."

His face darkened at the news. The poor girl. His heart went out to the both of them. Natasha's daughter was ill, meaning that she couldn't be doing much better emotionally. And what about her mystery husband? He would be devastated as well.

Later that night, while Lisa was sleeping, Pierre sat in his study. It was midnight, but he did not care. A book about Typhus was opened in front of him. He had studied the sickness before. Learned everything that he needed to about healing it. Someone pounded on the door. Pierre stood up to find one of Marya's maids panting in front of him. She rejected his invitation to come inside.

"Mistress Natasha needs you and all you knowledge about Typhus," she said, "She says that this may be the end of little Masha's life if he don't come quick!"

One of his servants pocked his head out from the corner. "Shall I call for a coach, sir?"

"No. No. There's no time for that. I can get there on foot."

Pierre wrapped his fur clock around him before having the maid lead him to Marya's. Along the way, she explained that their doctor was on holiday. All the others were already treating the other Typhus victims. Natasha knew that he had studied a few diseases before and thought that perhaps he would be able to help Masha. Pierre was their last hope.

Once he arrived, Pierre was led into a guest room. Masha laid on the bed, shaking and whimpering. He ordered for a few supplies before getting to work. It took the entire night to get Masha's fever to break. When it did, he gave a sigh of relief. She had been at death's door, but was able to make it home before death could overtake her. He called Natasha in.

The look of relief on Natasha's face when she saw her daughter made Pierre's heart throb. The mother held her daughter to her chest. Checking her over just in case. When she looked over at Pierre, she thought she felt something. An emotion that hadn't sparked inside of her since Anatole. Once Natasha was certain that Masha was alright she joined her friend.

"Thank you so much for everything," she whispered, "I owe you so much. You saved her life. What can I do for you? Is there anything that your heart desires?"

"I'm fine, really. Just doing what anyone would do," he replied, nodding.

"Are you sure?"


Pierre thought of Natasha the entire way home. In a way, the look that she gave him after healing her daughter made him feel as if his eyes had been opened for the first time. He smiled as he made his way home. Lisa was there to great him once he arrived.

"Where were you?" she questioned the moment he entered the house.

"Just making sure that your friend is going to be alright."

Her eyes begged for him to tell her that Masha was fine. "She is going to be okay, right?"

"Now I know that she will be."

Ooooooohhhhh! There's some chemistry going on here! (It's two am, give me a freaking break)

Thanks for reading! Please review!