I recently got into Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 and I had this idea so I finally wrote it down. I apologize in advance if you feel like any of the characters are OCC or if this isn't cannon. I'm still a bit confused about it.

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


Consider Me Your Friend

Natasha was beyond excited for the ball that night. No other nine year old girl would be invited to sing that night. She wasn't a pretty girl. Yet she felt beautiful every time she opened her mouth and let a few notes slip out. Natasha was so happy. So frightened.

Her parents arrived to the ball. A footman even helped her down. Natasha had never felt so sophisticated. In her new dress, Natasha felt like a princess. The skirt needed to be pulled up every so often. But she didn't mind. Something that made her feel so pretty deserved anything to bring her joy like this. It was a childish thing to dream of. Yet, she loved it. There wasn't anyway that she would be a princess one day.

The clock struck ten. It was her cue. Natasha gathered herself in the middle of the ballroom. Everyone was looking at her. Her feelings of bliss were fading into terror. She took a deep breath.

Soon night will come

Quieting the sun

Silent

She could feel her skirt sliding down. Just as long as it didn't completely fall off, she was fine. Natasha tried smiling through how uncomfortable she was. The show had to go on.

The sounds of the night coming through

Hear the winds whispering to you…

Suddenly, Natasha felt air. Too much air. There were gasps from around the room. Dread snuck her heart. Her dreams. Natasha found the courage to look down.

Her skirt had fallen down. Reveling her undergarments. All Natasha could do was stand there. Embarrassing herself further. After a few snickers, she ran out. A weight was on her. Pulling her to the ballroom. Back were everyone was laughing at her. Or mortified for her. The latter was worse. Her face flushed harder. There was a room to the side, where Natasha was known for couples going in when they wanted to get away from it all. This place became her haven.

Natasha let her sobs ring out. Letting anyone near hear her. She put her arms around her knees. And cried. After such an embarrassment, she deserve a good cry. Natasha couldn't go back in there. It was too much for her feelings to handle.

Sonya ducked into the room. Trying to comfort her. But Natasha turned her away. This was the Sonya she knew. Always there to comfort. Knowing that her cousin felt so embarrassed for her made it all worse. Sonya eventually gave up.

Minutes passed by. People might have forgotten by then. Yet Natasha couldn't bring herself to go back. Her tears stopped coming. Her thoughts were scattered.

Someone knocked on the door. "Anyone in there?"

She knew that voice. Pierre. No, no. Anyone but him. Ever since Natasha knew him, she knew that she was hopelessly in love with his man. He was ten years older then her. That didn't change her love. Natasha couldn't bare to face him after what had happened.

"I'm coming in," said Pierre, closing the door behind him, "Natasha?" His eyebrows knitted together.

Her eyes filled with more tears. Natasha hated knowing how red they must be. He sat down next to her. Not saying a thing. At least Natasha could appreciate that.

"I came in here to get away, too. Too hot out there. People wanting to talk to you endlessly gets old," he explained.

"Oh."

Pierre took out his purse. He couldn't seem to find what he was looking for. His kind eyes scanned the bag. Natasha pecked inside. The purse was empty.

"I was going to get out something for us to snack on, but it appears this is what happens when you pity too many people," said Pierre.

A giggle escaped her lips. Natasha scooted closer to him.

"You heard the latest gossip?" he asked full of sarcasm, "Alma Aseev and Tomas Belov eloped."

"Doesn't everyone elope these days?" Natasha intimidated a woman gossiping.

"Of course! Of course!"

Her tears had faded. Natasha knew that she could get in trouble for being alone in a room with a grown man. But Pierre had made her smile again. All memory of her awkward performance had faded. Pierre made it all better.

Children of dust and ashes.


After writing this I ship Natasha and Pierre even more. I didn't know it was possible.

Thanks for reading! Please review!