Aha! I am not dead, everyone! Just been occupied with NaNoWriMo and hell-I mean school. I've been getting into this musical a lot lately and recently watched the bootleg. Oh, goodness that was a masterpeice. I found our that Josh Groban has always been apart of my life. My mom used to listen to him when she was pregnant with me. That explains my obsession with "Dust and Ashes". Anyways, I've had this idea for a bit now. I was bored during math (my personal hell in hell) so I began working on it. Originally, it was going to be a one shot, but it was getting a bit too long. This story is going to be ten chapters. Each one for the years that Masha and Lisa are in at school.

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

YEAR ONE

1821

Moscow

Age: Nine

Even after Anatole had left her with a child, Natasha could not take her ring off. It was only a simple band that he gave to her when they were almost married. That was when she found out about his wife. After Anatole was barely able to escape the authorities, she was left behind. With wounded pride. Plus the child she was carrying inside of her. Natasha later gave birth to a girl. She called her Masha. Short for Maria, but this little thing in her hands did not seem like one. She was a simple Masha. Natasha adored her daughter from the start.

To her surprise, Marya was still there for her. Natasha'a father was quite angry with her. To get away from him, she stayed with her godmother. Once her father had forgiven her, Natasha moved away from Moscow with her little Masha. She did not visit Moscow often after that. People would talk. Their conversations emerging into gossip about the Rostovas. Her heart had been broken once. Now it was sealed off to any suitors. Only open to her daughter.

Meanwhile, Hélène's many affairs had caught up to her. She came to Pierre one day, telling him that she was expecting. It was not his child. That didn't matter to him. It was an innocent child that did not deserve to grow up in a cruel household. Pierre tried to make everything perfect for a little human being living there. He told himself not to become to connected. This was not his own baby. It was another man's. Yet Pierre felt himself connecting with it more every day. With everything that he bought for him or her, he was falling more in love. Once the child had been born, Hélène went back to a life of parties and vodka. Pierre was left to fend for his wife's daughter. He named her Lisa. Only Lisa. A simple name for an illegitimate child.

When Lisa was five, Pierre came downstairs to find his wife. Cold and unmoving. A bottle of abortifacient was next to her. After feeling for a pulse, he pronounced her dead. When Lisa so innocently asked about the mother that was never there for her, Pierre told her that she had passed on.

"Oh, did she go to heaven then?" she wondered, "Is she with God now?"

Ignoring all the bad things that Hélène had done in her lifetime, he nodded. After all, a fallen woman must be forgiven. That was what his friend had told him once. Lisa accepted that answer and closed her eyes to sleep.

When she was asleep, Pierre could think of how much she resembled her mother. Without Dolokhov's eyes haunting him. Those were his late wife's locks falling over Lisa's shoulders. Lisa was just like a doll that had been created to look like Hélène.

Lisa called him Papa. A title that he didn't deserve. Yet somehow had earned it. Pierre wore it with pride. Telling the entire world that this little girl thought of his as her Papa. That was how much he loved her. Even after Hélène's sudden suicide, he wore his ring. He wanted Lisa to grow up in a home where at least one parent had a ring on their finger. Unlike he had. When Pierre was a boy, he would see all the children with their parents still happy together. His own father seemed to have forgotten about his mother. Just moved on to the next woman after he had been born.

At the age of nine, both of them had blossomed into sweet girls. Lisa, being very talented at her numbers and letters. Just has her father had taught her. Masha was much more reserved. She preferred creating things rather then solving them.

There was a school special for girls about their age in Moscow. When Pierre heard about it, he knew that they would be able to educate his daughter as well as he would be able to. Teaching her things that he would not be able to teach her. Lisa begged him not to send her away, but he was stern.

When Masha turned nine, Marya suggested to Natasha to look at the girl's school. After doing so, she knew that it was the best place for her daughter for her education. Masha may have been worse about convincing her mother not to send her away. Natasha was certainly more stern.

On the first day of the school, the two girls said their goodbyes to their parents. Lisa had been glaring down at her hands the entire way over. She did not want to go to school. There was nothing that they could teach her that her father could not. She would much rather be with her friend, Nick. Lisa stomped out of the carriage.

"Please, Papa," she tried one last time, "I really don't want to go. They is nothing that they can teach me that you can't. You're probably much smarter then them, anyways."

"That is true, Lisa, but there is one thing that they will be able to teach you," replied Pierre.

Lisa folded her arms. "And what is that, exactly?"

"I assure you that you will be able to teach yourself how to make friends. That is something that I cannot teach you myself."

"But I had friends back home. Remember Nick?"

Pierre was not exactly found of the boy. Not that he wasn't good to his daughter, but was that he was kind to her. A bit too nice in his opinion. Nick always seemed to be looking at Lisa in a different light. As if he was stricken with his daughter.

"Yes, but now you can make friends that are also girls." He gestured to the door. "Now go on inside."

Before taking another step, Lisa turned around and embraced her father. She kept the warm feeling of his coat with her. Just in case she ever got lonely. His favorite cologne was brunt into her memory.

Not far from those two stood Natasha with her daughter in her arms. The two had been like this for a few minutes. Neither one of them talked. Just held on to each other. Making sure that they would be alright. The two of them were able to do it all without words. She finally put Masha down.

"Remember to write to me every week," reminded Natasha.

"I'll write every day if I can."

They parted. Masha slowly making her way inside the building. Other girls were running around her to get inside, but she did not want to be too far from her mother. Masha turned her head around to make sure that Natasha was still there. She was, but Masha didn't go running back to her. She had to prove that she was strong.

Inside, the headmistress gave a speech before the girls went off to their first classes. They were given little pieces of paper with their schedules on them. Other girls began to show them to their other friends to see if they had any friends in those classes. They had to have gone here before in order to know everyone so well.

Literature was their first class. Both girls made their way down to the room. They were seated next to each other. Without knowing each other's names. The teacher began lecturing about "Father Frost". Lisa already knew the story by heart. Pierre had read it to her every night. The girl sitting next to her, however, seemed confused.

"Miss Maria!" their snapped at the girl, "Did the woman in the story love her stepdaughter?"

"Um. . . I-I don't know, Madam," answered Masha, shaking.

Their teacher's eyebrows knotted together. "No? Weren't you paying any attention?"

"I was trying. . . I guess that I'm just not very good at this. . ."

Lisa could sense the fear in her eyes. She quietly got out a slip of paper and scribbled down the answer. She pocked Masha with her quill. Masha took a quick glance at what was on the paper. She sent her a grateful look, which Lisa nodded her 'your welcome'.

"I think I have the answer now. The stepmother did not love her stepdaughter. She preferred her real daughter over her," said Masha, in a determined tone.

Her teacher seemed surprised. Yet she still nodded and continued on with the lesson. Masha grabbed her new friend's hand and squeezed it. Lisa beamed. Turned out her father was right. She would make a friend while she was at school. After class was over, the two girls walked out together.

"My name is Lisa," she introduced.

"Masha."

They took each other's hands and led each other to the dinning room for lunch. The two girls talked during the entire meal. Lisa told her about her father, while Masha spoke of her mother. They stuffed down beef and porridge. Lisa stated that she wasn't so sure about coming to this school.

"I have an idea," said Lisa, "We need to have a roommate by the end of the day. We should be roommates!"

Masha nodded eagerly. Finally she had a friend besides her cousin Tatianna. Those two weren't close, but they were forced to play together while their parents talked. Masha found her cousin to be snobby and immature. It was all in her mind, really. For her cousin was mostly just a sweet little girl. Just the two of them were not the best at getting along well.

Later that night Lisa wrote a letter to her father. She would write one every night to him. That was her goal. She write about the school. And Masha. Her new friend.

She fell asleep, smiling.

I would love to hear which girl you like better. I feel bad for having a favorite, but I just love Lisa. Perhaps, it's because I'm just jelous of her math skills which I will never have. But in real life, I'm probably more like Masha. More creative then booksmart.

Thanks for reading! Please review!