AN – Don't own 'em. Nintendo do and therefore have come up with such travesties such as NatashaxSeth. Damn those fiends and their alternative pairings!

I always wanted to do a "Everyone Gets TRASHED LOL!" Fire Emblem fanfic, but, unfortunately, I lack the talent. So you're stuck with this.

Intoxication

It was a victory hard won and so I had no protests to voice when Forde announced a spur-of-the-moment celebration.

The local villagers had been kind enough to allow us to stay in the area for the night, and despite my longing to see this war's end, I knew how weary they all were, how much the death and destruction weighed down upon their minds. How could I refuse them a mere night of much needed rest?

I did not, however, expect there to be drinking.

The local villagers had also been kind enough to supply us with more than enough ale for several armies. The amount had worried me at first, but as I watched an oddly cheerful Sir Gilliam and a broadly grinning Sir Garcia raise their tankards with a raucous cheer, I realized I would soon have very little to be concerned about.

While I had politely declined the offered mugs, much preferring to watch the escapades of the others than engage in any of my own, my brother had joined in with the declaration he would drink enough for both of us, which prompted an already fairly intoxicated Prince Innes to forcefully and explicitly challenge him to a drinking contest.

Innes had lost by the third tankard and we placed him next to Ross, who had been rendered incapable of standing very early on in the evening. The boy might've almost been his father's match in combat, but he was sorely lacking in his father's drinking ability. I stifled a laugh when Innes snored loudly, muttering something about targets and arrows and a certain pegasus knight.

My own knight seemed almost as inexperienced as Frelia's Prince with handling ale. Seth had been more or less forced into the company of Gilliam and Garcia for most of the night, which most likely caused him to drink far more than he intended. I grinned, recalling how the well-spoken, graceful Silver Knight had not-so-slowly transformed into a clumsy boy who seemed unable to remember words, stringing his awkward, stilted speech together with exaggerated gestures and frequent pauses. At first I had subtly tried to allow him to escape from the deadly trifecta of Gilliam, Garcia, and Duessel, but the three seemed determined to get Seth as drunk as possible, and so I contended myself by sitting across the fire and listening.

It had been dark for some time when I looked up as a rather obscene joke issued by Sir Duessel elicited roars of laughter from those on the other side of the fire. Well, from most of them. Seth looked confused for a moment before awkwardly forcing a slight smile. My brother roughly slapped his shoulder, voicing a choice addition to the story which sent them into near hysterics. I grinned, despite myself. Seth's own smile broadened into a true one, and he turned away from the others.

His eyes met mine.

They lingered there and something tightened within me. I felt the heat rise on my cheeks as he opened his mouth soundlessly for a moment, then paused, sighed, and turned back to the others.

"I think I should…," he hesitated, frowning, gesturing vaguely with both hands.

"'ave sommore?" Gilliam asked, lifting a fresh mug to the best of his ability.

Seth quickly shook his head, which seemed to be a mistake, as he stopped that abruptly and placed a hand on his forehead. Gilliam shrugged and downed the proffered ale without much ceremony, much to the loud amusement of Garcia.

"Dance?" Gerik grinned and Tethys, standing beside him, rolled her eyes and smiled at the belated laughter of the others.

"No." Seth stared at Gerik curiously, as though unsure whether his remark had been a joke or not. "I should…er…"

"Go?" Ephraim suggested, looking genuinely concerned with aiding the General in finding his missing word.

"Yes!" he positively beamed at my brother, and I could no longer help it—I giggled raucously. "Yes, I should go. Go back to the…the…"

"Tent!" Ephraim supplied helpfully. Seth nodded back with such enthusiasm my nearly contained laughter now exploded out of me as he stood far too quickly and nearly fell over backwards.

I found him minutes later on the wrong side of the camp.

"Seth?"

He nearly leapt, obviously surprised. "Princess?"

"What are you doing?"

He blinked. "Going back to…to my…er…"

"Tent?" I couldn't help but grin.

His face brightened and he nodded. "Yes, that."

"Ah. Well, I'd think you'd have some difficulty if you went into that one."

He tilted his head with an unspoken question in the same way puppy would, and I wondered why he had never done that while sober. I found it utterly charming.

"That's Marisa's tent."

"Oh!" He released the tent flap as though it had burned him, rapidly backing away in alarm so comically I couldn't help but start giggling again. He favored me with an embarrassed smile, looking around the camp as though he had never been there before in his life, much less prepared its defensive layout.

"Then mine would be…?"

"Would you like me to help you?"

He looked at me. For a moment, his brows knit together, as though he was trying to remember something, but then he smiled softly in a way that made my breath catch. He nodded.

I paused for a moment to gather up my courage and, without giving myself to think on it, took his hand.

A pleasurable lighting lanced up my arm and settled in my stomach, leaving my skin to tingle in its wake. Remembering the location of Seth's quarters became much more difficult when the only thing I could focus on was the feel of fingers against my own, but I eventually found it, remembering that it was near Cormag's tent.

His wyvern, which made the position of his tent rather obvious, watched us both with large eyes, sniffing dispassionately as I stopped in front of Seth's tent.

"Here we are," I announced. I did not loosen my grip on his hand, and neither, I noticed, did he. We simply stood there, his eyes on mine, ignorant of the deep, rumbling bass of an inquisitive wyvern.

I could have him.

The thought came unbidden, the realization intoxicating, my mind reeled with the absurd simplicity of it all. How easy it would be to seduce him in this state; how we could effortlessly blame the alcohol the next morning and think nothing of it; how sweet it would be to feel his naked skin against my own…

I immediately dropped his hand, face burning, sick with shame at my own lust.

"Forgive me," I whispered. He looked confused, and then I saw a spark of recollection in his eyes. A light, feathery smile appeared on his lips and, suddenly, he took me into a sweeping embrace, burying his face in my neck.

A hot, shivering sensation engulfed me totally. My head felt light and my knees nearly gave out beneath me. I clutched at him desperately, equal parts passion and the need for support.

"You're beautiful, Eirika," he mumbled softly into my ear, making me gasp—and then let me go just as swiftly as he had grabbed me, leaving me to stagger on weak knees as he smiled, turned, and crawled into his tent with a contented sigh.

I am unsure how long I stayed there, but I could no longer hear the voices of the others when I managed to collect myself enough to walk towards my own tent. Cormag's wyvern whinned as I left, and I was fairly certain the beast was laughing at me.