Sorry about the wait! I don't really have any excuses besides the I was busy and I had computer problems, but I'm back!

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

YEAR FOUR

Age: 12

There seemed to be no way to escape the anxiety surrounding her. Either a test or another project was always on Masha's mind. At night, she was losing sleep since she could only stress about her schoolwork at night. Lisa never seemed to be having these problems. School was easy for her. She was even becoming better at sewing. The one thing that Masha succeeded her at. She tried with all her heart not to be jealous. Just that proved to be very hard.

"I am assigning you a project. . ."

"There's going to be a test on this tomorrow."

"You must memorize this."

Every teacher seemed to want to get on her back more and more. There was no getting away from this. Lisa was so focused on spending time with Alex while he was visiting. Masha and Vladik were only friends. Not as close as Alex and Lisa were. Something else that Masha had to sallow her jealousy for of her friend. She tried to understand. She really did. Nothing made sense to her. It was obvious that Lisa had feelings for Alex. And Masha had been the one waiting to fall in love. Now Lisa was getting her happily ever after.

"Masha," said Lisa, while they were in the library, "What's wrong? You seem so stressed all the time."

At her friend's words, Masha broke down. Trying to tell her what was going on in between sobs. A librarian shot them a stern look. Lisa set down her books and helped Masha out. They found a empty bench along the hall.

"Now tell me again, slower," said Lisa, gently.

Masha took a deep breath. "I've just been so stressed lately. With schoolwork and such. I need to catch up, but I'm not very good at this kind of thing. Or school. At all. Mama's going to kill me for getting kicked out-No Mama isn't going to kill me. Madam Marya is!"

"You need help with school work?"

"Your-your so good at it! But I don't wanna bug you!" She sniffled.

Lisa gave her friend a comforting smile. "Hey, it's okay. You want to know who taught me what I know today? My papa did. I can arrange for you to meet with him."

Masha sniffled again. Lisa passed her a handkerchief which her friend gladly took. "You-you would do that for me? Your-your papa wouldn't mind?"

"I doubt it. He loves children."

Masha looked at her friend, with newfound hope. "Okay, that sounds good."

Pierre was shocked to see little Masha Rostova on his doorstep. She was shaking, not from the cold, however. Lisa was right next to her, holding a bag overflowing with papers. He shook off his surprise, however, and let them inside. Usually he would have a maidservant answer the door, but he had been expecting Lisa to come home soon.

"Welcome, Lisa. Madam Rostova," he greeted, as the girls stepped inside.

"Thank you, Count Bezukhov," Masha replied, sweetly, "But please, just call Masha."

Lisa took her friend's hand and lead her inside. Masha's eyes widened as she went on a tour of their house. It occurred to Pierre that she had never see their home. Only her own and Marya's. Once the girls were done, they met him in his office.

"Papa, Masha was wondering if you could help her out with a few of her assignments," said Lisa, "Please, Papa?"

Pierre looked Masha over. The girl looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Lines beneath her eyes and the way that she was shaking told him everything. She had been yawning the entire time they were here. Pierre nodded and told them to pull up a chair. Lisa stayed by her friend's side, just in case. She had the occasional comment, but mostly was quiet. By the end of their session, Masha seemed to have a better understanding of everything. She thanked Pierre, in her quiet tone, and gathered up her things. Lisa stayed behind.

"Thank you so much for helping her, Papa," she told him.

His heart swelled. His little girl had a friend. And she was a true friend. Lisa kissed his cheek before heading out of the room.

The next day, Natasha visited. Out of the blue. Pierre didn't contact her often, but he ordered a servant to get tea and asked her to sit down.

"I've been studying that philosophy book that you told me about," Natasha began, "It's a bit confusing, but perhaps you could help me through it. Like the way that you help my daughter with her schoolwork."

Pierre blushed at mention of that. "Uh, of course. I would, um, love to."

Natasha smiled softly to herself. "It means a lot to me, Pierre. Thank you."

They sat in a silence. Natasha did not find herself feeling awkward or uncomfortable. Pierre was different. He was whispering to himself without noticing. Once the tea arrived, Natasha served herself a cup. He watched her graceful hands pour the liquid. He had never noticed the faint scar on her thumb. Or how her eyes always seemed to be beaming at him. They continued to make small talk before Natasha decided she had to go. Pierre walked his guest to the door, helping her with her coat. Once Natasha turned around, their faces were much closer. Pierre flushed harder then he had before. She grinned at him before kissing his cheek. Natasha left then.

Pierre could only gape and hold his cheek. As if he had never been kissed before. There had been girls in his courtship days. And, of course, Hélène. But he was an old man now. What could Natasha ever see in him?

There you go. Dear bewhildered, awkward Pierre. At least their romance is starting to happen. I had way too much fun with it.

Thanks for reading!