Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

only you	By : MadameMika Category: G through L > Ice Age Views: 478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Ice Age. The series was created by Blue Sky, and now it belongs to Disney. It's a shame, but oh well - probably for the best I have no ownership.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Shira opened her eyes to find herself in the cave, lying on the ground with the worst sore throat she had ever had. She recalled one other time she had awoken with a throat pain, and had once come face to face with her father and mother, the latter’s eyes round with fear while the other’s expression was unreadable. But that was a different case, one where she hadn’t been strangled…especially not by someone she knew.
“It’s not the first time he’s almost killed me,” she murmured, then looked around until her eyes laid on her attacker. Memories of his hand snatching her throat, threats of a tiger being skinned flashed through her mind. She shuddered briefly. “But I pray it’s the last…”
She sat up, gagging. She could barely force a proper breath through her bruised and damaged windpipe but finally managed to breathe normally. She looked over Gutt’s form, taking in the sight of him — so damaged, so unrest… it made her frown, recalling his rage from the previous day. “I’m surprised no one heard you,” she whispered, using her paw to brush some fur from his face. “Or me. We made quite a scene, and yet…”
Shira glanced around. It was dawn. Every other mammal had to be asleep, save for the fowl. She had enough time to find herbs, and... help him. Despite the fact she knew it was insane and that he would never show her the same level of grace, she would do him this one favor. She would be the bigger mammal and not stoop to his low. She would help treat his wounds, and then... the rest would have to work itself out.
But oh, did she dread the moment he would awaken. The saber sighed and left the cave to fetch the herbs. One of the few things she supposed she could thank her mother for was that the elder saber taught her how to work with herbs, having been the "healer" of the pack, though Rosa had only been appointed due to the old healer dying, leaving her – his trainee – to succeed him. It wasn’t fun when her mother made her a temporary apprentice, even if it came to use now though.
“You’re mixing up the herbs again, alumna.”
The younger tigress, then fourteen, flinched at her mother’s scolding. “Lo siento, mamá—”
“Don’t call me that! Not while you’re training,” snapped Rosa, her eyes narrowing at the teenager. “As long as we are in this den, you will refer to me by name. None of this 'mama.' You are an apprentice, not a cub.” She scrunched her nose up, a cold look in her eyes. “Honestly, do you expect to get anywhere by talking like that to your mentors?”
There was a knot forming in her throat, and she resisted in trying to obstruct the path by swallowing. It would make it worse, and surely raise her mother's ire. “But...but Papa—”
“Your father indulges too much on you.” Rosa’s voice held a bit of annoyance, almost disdain, within it. “He’s trying to bring you up to be a fine huntress, yet you can’t go a second without trying to refer to your superiors as anything but. It’s ridiculous.” She shook her head. “With this childishness... this lack of dedication to the task, and such foolishness... what do you think you’ll become? What skills will you acquire?”
Shira looked down, pressing her lips together in frustration and humiliation. Why couldn’t her mother understand she was only trying her best? That she was pouring all of her effort into it, and that it wasn’t her fault for making mistakes. Healing wasn’t even remotely similar to hunting, which was something she was more used to — it was something she had only just begun to dive into, only because her father insisted she know how to aid herself if she ever ended up alone during a hunt, or if they were ever separated. “It’s not like I do it on purpose, maestra,” she protested softly. “I do my best with these tasks, but—”
“It doesn’t matter whether it’s on purpose or not,” Rosa interrupted, her tone colder than ice. “You’re slipping up in your learning. You must do better if you ever want to become a good healer—or even a good hunter, as I suggest trying even harder with that.” She held her head up high as she went to fetch more herbs, giving a glance back at the youth over her shoulder. “And I suggest you lose that attitude. Just because Ignacio is soft on you, it doesn’t mean I will be. Child of mine or not, I won’t tolerate this foolery.”
A voice in Shira’s head told her to rebel against the injustice she was treated with, to stand by her right to defend herself but another, a voice of reason, told her this wasn’t a battle she had a chance of winning. Rosa’s word was the absolute law in this den, and no amount of solid arguments could change that.
The younger saber’s was taken as an answer. “Good,” said the elder, and Shira could hear the sense of proud nature in her mother’s tone. “Now…” Rosa walked back over, placing down several more herbs. “Sort these out properly. I don’t want to see a single mix-up, understood?”
Shira nodded, avoiding her mother’s gaze. “Got it, maestra.”
“Bueno.” With a huff, Rosa left her alone to her task.
Twenty-five years later, Shira scowled at the memory. She was thankful to have the knowledge of healing, but she was more thankful that despite Gutt’s callousness, he had at least taken her away from that life. Aside from what happened to her father, she was happy to escape from her mother’s crushing nature. Despite not even being a hunter, Rosa had carried the qualities of the typical alpha — controlling, always putting down those they saw beneath...
And yet there was a sense of irony, as she recalled Gutt’s own scolding of her. Putting her down, saying she was the opposite of what he’d wanted in her — “I need warriors! And all I want are kitty cats and bunny rabbits.” She scowled. I’m not what either of you think I am, she wanted to argue, but it was much too late.
The fact she was even helping Gutt using her mother’s teachings did feel odd, but life hadn’t been normal for her in a long time.
This is so bizarre though, she thought, plucking a few healing plants from the bottom of a tree. He’s hurt me so much, yet I’m still loyal to him in the sense of aiding him... and he wouldn’t dare return the favor. If it was her that went unconscious, she was pretty sure he’d kill her right then and there.
Which was why she partially dreaded returning to the cave, and possibly finding him awake, ready to strike again. Winning the last fight was a one in a million chance of luck. Another attack was unthinkable.
Shira tried to shove that thought to the back of her mind. No, he wouldn't. He couldn't. He was weak now. He couldn't muster up any strength to...
Gathering up enough herbs, the tigress carried them in her jaws to the cave. There was only one way to find out for certain. So with a deep breath in, she prepared herself as she entered the cave.
He was warm. That was the first thing Gutt noticed as he began to return to consciousness. He could no longer feel the individual piercings of cold that was the breeze from the outside.
The next thing he was aware of was the familiar pain, especially in his head. He moaned a little.
“He’s not…fully awake,” said a familiar voice, a hint of relief within it. “Just a little. Enough for me to try and clean.”
He hissed as he felt something soft press on his head, followed by something being pressed to his chest and limbs, especially his leg. He tried to move, but it only increased the pain. “Don’t do that,” he heard her scold him. “Stay still.”
Gutt did that, only because he didn’t want more of that stinging feeling than he already did feel. The last thing he really remembered was that he had been on top of Shira, trying to show her what happened when one betrayed him and –
Wait.
His eyes opened and he saw her. Standing there, tending to his wounds was none other than the tigress herself. She met his eyes and frowned. You have some nerve looking me in the eye like that, he growled inwardly. After all you’ve done…
“You’re awake.” She wasn’t angry or disappointed. Her tone was more neutral than anything, which startled him briefly. He expected her to bemoan over him being alive, but then realized…if that would be the case, then why on earth was she applying herbs to his injuries?
“Don’t move too much,” she went on, warning him. “The more you move, it’ll dislocate the herbs. They have to stay on for a couple of hours in order to prevent any infections, if you haven’t gotten any already.” At that, she grimaced. “If you do, it’ll at least treat the infection well enough that it won’t cause further damage.”
“Why do you care if it gets infected or not?” Gutt asked, a snarl arising from his throat. “You’ve left me once. Nothing’s stopping you from doing it again, kitten.” He sneered at her, relishing in seeing her lips curl into her own snarl, those sharp teeth glistening in the cracks of light that shone in the cave. He knew her well enough to know what set her off, what got her ticking – something he took joy in now, whereas in the past, he tried to avoid that.
“Unlike you, I don’t leave others for dead,” Shira shot back, an indignant noise escaping afterward. She turned away for a moment, seemingly to pluck another plant from her pile of healing herbs. Why does she even bother? “I’m not as cruel as you. Not anymore.”
Ah, there it was! That righteousness she acquired. From her new mate, perhaps – and at that thought, the ape felt sick. The idea of her and that – no, Gutt didn’t care. He didn’t…he wasn’t—
“Since when did you become so high on morality?” he snorted, trying to hide the hurt in his tone. She used to look up to him so highly, regarded him with respect, and now that was gone. “Spending time with the saber really softened you out.”
“No, it was reflecting on my actions and what I’d become,” Shira spat, turning towards him with a look of disdain. “I left my pack because it was suffocating. I grew to loathe packs because of the rejection, seeing so much incompetence and brutality. Imagine my shock when I realized that the crew became just like that, decades later.”
“Incompetence and brutality? You surely jest.” Gutt was unable to believe what he was hearing from her. Was she seriously trying to equate him and their brood to her old pack after everything they’d been through? “Anything brutal we’ve done, it was for our survival. You know that.”
“So leaving me to drown was part of your plan to survive.” Something welled up in those teal eyes, which struck something inside him. The last time he saw her like that, it was when they were younger, and she had buried her face in his chest and— she’s really upset, he realized. “I needed you, Gutt! And all you did was leave me there for the waves. You didn’t even care if I would have died, and I was left with your enemies. You understand the humiliation I felt? The fright, the embarrassment?”
Gutt’s brow furrowed. “I thought you died,” he said softly. When she opened her mouth to object, he interrupted her, “Yes, I did. Sabers don’t swim – you said so yourself years ago. You’re as good of a swimmer as I am. So when I couldn’t find you amongst the crew, it wasn’t hard to piece two and two together. How was I supposed to know you washed ashore with the mammoth? It’s a cruel world. I can’t always—”
“So you didn’t even have enough faith that I’d live?” The hurt in her voice was something he couldn’t ignore. That coupled with those tears… it reminded her of when they were younger, more intimate—much closer. A time when it seemed like nothing could drive them apart. “Do you think I’m that weak?”
The gigantopithecus hadn’t allowed himself a moment to properly think of his wording when the next sentence left him: “Seeing as how you were quick to run towards the saber…yes, I’d say you’re pretty weak.”
A look of devastation was on Shira’s face now, and immediately Gutt regretted what he’d said, even though a part of him argued that she deserved it. “Is that what you think?” she asked quietly. Her shoulders—no, her whole figure—tensed, her claws unsheathing. He braced himself for her to strike him, except it never came. Instead, she turned away and said coldly, “Then I suppose you never really knew me, and I never knew you.”
With that, she ran out, leaving him alone to feel a new pain. But it wasn’t from his wounds, which were now slowly cleaned of the infections. No, it was from within his chest—from his heart.
“I suppose we don’t know each other,” Gutt murmured, and he sighed. Three days was all it took for what seemed like a strong bond to be broken, and what was left now? He wasn’t sure. Certainty was something he was never granted, something he loathed about this new life. Almost as much as he loathed her… and yet, he felt an odd thankfulness that she kept him alive. Yet he bit the paw that fed him.
“We don’t know each other at all.”
The rain poured around them. It was the last month of rainy season, where many parts of land would be covered in water. If the jet stream did not bring favorable weather, the season could last for a few more weeks until the dry season. But icebergs seemed untouched by the dreary conditions; the weather didn’t stop Captain Vitaly or those before him and their followers from doing their deeds years before, and it certainly did not cool the war waged upon open seas that continued to loom over everyone’s shoulders.
Here, the rains feel unperturbed in this area in the yards of the great, powerful sea-dwellers. When they ended, the coves returned to being gems of the land masses that were bordered by the ever expanding azure oceans with legumes and wildflowers that sprinkled the interior with their various scents. But those days had yet to arrive for some.
Sergei stared out into space. The young wolf was waiting for something, of what Ilya couldn’t tell, but he suspected they wouldn’t be waiting out here for long.
The trip have been on a rickety, old berg that nearly hit several rocks—an heirloom from those that voyaged before them, but at a cost after several raids and defeats, some more devastating than others. The food was rancid; whatever fish or fowl they caught were either grim-tasting or sickly, or simply unable to digest, leaving the victims that ingested such things to spend sunsets vomiting. Most of all, Sergei hated what scraps of actual water they were able to get. One sip was enough for him to exclaim it tasted like tar. Everyone else only shrugged as they sipped theirs with no ill effects. He opted only small laps after that, fearing it would age him quicker than he already had.
On the ride, while Ilya sat on the ice cold floor, Sergei would educate him on history, legends and all of that. All the ways a mammal could conquer the seas without mindless slaughter. With all the slaying that occurring over the years, it was important to stress how precious life was. That was only one side of the coin that he showed, however. If the wolf believed the fox wasn’t looking, he would transform into a shrewd, conniving and duplicitous mammal, apparent as lacquer when some of the crew members went silent whenever he approached. Clearly, the canine of ‘peace’ had a way of using his talents to instill control. An impressive trait, Ilya had to admit. No one would do the same for him.
Sergei, in his righteous nature, hadn’t realized he’d stepped on some very sharp eggshells. He had taken pity on the fox since he met him, ignorant to what Ilya knew. Ilya acted his part of the orphaned teenager that barely escaped with his life from the slimy, sick beasts that murdered his father and thrust into the hands of his wolf savior, likewise experiencing his own loss at the hands of an enemy crew. As his ‘student’ for his memos and lectures of justice and restoring peace, the black fox would get the larger canine more favorable position and view amongst the other mammals on board, though Ilya was keenly aware that neither of them had any intention of keeping to the faith. There was no hope, no peace, and certainly not a large chance they’d avenge their loved ones.
Curious that a lupine such as him would teach the benefits of peace when he was hell-bent on slaying this ape, this Captain Gutt, to avenge the death of something he’d devoted his life to… all while trying to ensure a new rule over the seas. No one had time for actual peace or grace, or anything of that sort. But if it meant getting some poor saps on their sides aside from those close to the ones that had been slayed, now that was worth something grabbing.
Ilya scratched his ears with his backleg. The black fur shone in the spectacles of sunlight. He felt like a crow with its wings clipped, stuck to the ground, unable to break away. All that was missing was some claws that could do real damage, but his sharp teeth would do as substitute. Sergei’s teeth were sharper, able to snap necks – more blood as a result, but never the amount than the one that killed many captains.
“It’s for protection,” Sergei said, when Ilya asked him how a mammal that believes in peace can use his teeth as weapons. Semantics, he called it. There were still irrational ones in the world, and of course anybody with a big heart – or claimed they had one – would fall for what he was trying to push. ‘Diplomacy’, the wolf says, and hammers into his fox companion that he should use it, too.
“Peace can only be achieved through hardship, and I understand completely the hardship you endured…”
That was only half of the story. Ilya’s official story was buried somewhere in a ditch, while he had to use a condensed version to give voice to his charade. Whatever he truly thought about anything was to be buried deep within him so that his heart wouldn’t thump with regret and his conscious voice doubts. Sergei’s heart was doing just that – panging with heartfelt sorrow – whenever he took a cursory glance at him, making sure the shivering vulpine was safe at his side. His emaciated body broke him, and his sweet, nightingale-like voice won him over. Now he was enrolled into his ‘crew’, Ilya saw no use for it.
The wolf’s search in the darkness led to a pair of strange cries entering the fox’s ears. Ilya hissed under his breath, his fur prickling. The atmosphere was awfully dreary for a summer! The air gave a light gentle breeze as if understanding his plight and Sergei’s frame stepped in front of him, blocking the way. The ice berg stopped, the sound of it scraping a shore piercing the two canines’ ears.
When everyone got on land, a few mammals—newcomers or locals?—came in. A mammoth, a molehog and then…a saber. Dark-furred, though, not pale like—
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” asked the tiger, looking over the two canines first, mainly Sergei. His muzzle set in a line. The voice was middle-aged, deep and hesitant. One of those ‘quiet but tough’ types.
“Privet,” said Sergei, flashing a grin at the saber. “Name’s Sergei. We—” he gestured around to the rest of the mammals; some herbivores, some not “—are here to seek a new home. Our old one was lost. We mean no harm as we only wish to settle here.”
The saber didn’t give his name. He peered over the wolf, an eyebrow raising as he took a glance at the fox. Ilya saw the tiger’s body tense for a single moment. He took notice of the mammoth and the molehog, both a bit younger than the vulpine, seemingly backing away yet the former looked curious. Were they the tiger’s companions? Someone Mr. Tough Guy was looking after? Must be, if the herbivores even dare stay when the obvious carnivore was near. Especially the mammoth.
“We are just friendly strangers,” Ilya spoke up, as if answering the saber’s unasked question. He took a step away from his companion, chest forward, shoulders straightened – ready to face any ire from the larger predator. “I don’t want to scare or frighten your friends.”
“If you keep to that and give us nothing to worry about, there’ll be no issue,” said the saber slowly, words laced with hesitance. “But as it stands now, I don’t know you. No one here knows you. So until it stands, I have to make sure neither of you will try anything.” In those green eyes, there was a legitimate concern for his fellow mammal.
Rather commendable. Someone that believes in what he says. A rarity, thought Ilya. He stepped around the saber, a curiosity taking over. His eyebrows bunched, a stranger with unclear motives suspicious of someone that was the opposite. “Then so be it.” Raising his own brow, he asked him, “Tell me, though, what’s your name?”
“Diego.”
“Ilya.” He flashed a grin at him. “Interesting to meet a tiger that mixes himself up with herbivores.”
Diego breathed in harshly, fur pricking. “Don’t.”
“Perhaps there’s a story behind that?” asked Ilya.
Diego’s eyes narrowed, and it was then the fox decided perhaps this would be a…interesting experience.
Shira leaned on the rocks outside the cave, looking up at the sky and watching as clouds turned grey. A dry sob escaped her as her claws dug into the dirt of the earth. Her heart, her soul, and her pride ached. A feeling of emptiness quickly settled in the pit of her stomach, taunting her with the cruel reality that hovered over her like an ominous storm cloud. How could she be so stupid? Why did she even bother?
Gutt thought she had drowned, or at least that’s what he told her. She didn’t fully believe it, yet he spoke too sincerely. But then that meant he hadn’t had faith she’d survive, and then he said she was weak. With every word he said, it seemed like their beginning was merely a fantasy, and she was left to the cruel truth. Did he ever care for her? She was thinking perhaps, she wasn’t wrong about him.
Gutt didn’t care at all for her, and yet a part of her couldn’t bring herself to get rid of him.
Righteousness — the ape mentioned that. Shira didn’t find herself justifiable. She knew her actions weren’t something she could really defend. She had killed in defense, but more often than not, she was partially behind the orchestration of events that would lead up to the killings. Pirate life was cruel in that sense. So no, she wanted to argue, it wasn’t righteousness. It was mercy.
Something he didn’t deserve.
“What was I thinking?” the tigress asked herself. “He doesn’t care, so I shouldn’t.” The conclusion was so simple, so why did it disappoint her so? He used to act like he cared, used to treat her like they were equals. What happened?
Everything was so complicated. All she felt was an aching, some strange longing for her former captain. She couldn’t have that, and she knew it very well. But she was also aware she wasn’t ever going to be truly happy this way.
Shira sighed. This entire ‘being the bigger mammal’ thing was important, or so she thought it was. She was questioning so much.
She stood up, starting to walk away until—
“Shira!”
Her insides shivered. If there was one thing that was going to stop her, it was this. She felt a mixture of dread and relief. It didn’t matter what he said though, or how it made her feel. She was still going to leave.
“Shira, wait,” he said again, maybe a little desperate this time.
The tigress took a deep breath and turned around, and sure enough, there he stood. Her blue orbs narrowed.
“Gutt.”
----------------------------------------------------
Spanish words:
Alumna - student
Lo siento - I'm sorry
Bueno - good
There's so much to address here, but for the most part I think I got down the weird complicated/angsty thing going on between Gutt and Shira. Yay for slow build. Also, finally get to toss in the OCs ;) and Diego's met...two of them...more of that will be in the next chapter. I would elaborate, but I hate to spoil.
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

only you