Marya held onto Nikolai, enjoying the feeling of his strong frame enveloping her. She had tears in her eyes and a smile at her lips. Nikolai put his fingers under her chin, lifting it so her eyes would meet his.

'Marya,' he said, 'will you have me for your husband, even though I have nothing to offer you, other than myself?' Marya smiled and stroked his cheek tenderly.

'With all my heart; as long as I have your love, Nikolai, you are more than enough.'

'Darling Marya, you will always have it.' They kissed again. Marya couldn't be happier; this was everything she ever dreamed of and more. A man, this man and the prospect of a life so different to the one she had been leading, with her father. But now Nikolai Rostov the handsome, penniless Count loved her and wished for their marriage, despite the difficulties and awkwardness that surround their marriage.

After such sorrows: her mother, Andrei, her father, the war; Marya had now been given a chance at happiness. And she was, in Nikolai's arms.