"Illustration from 'Beneath the Pines,' a First Law fan fiction by DARWIN. This grimdark artwork captures the eerie forest atmosphere of Joe Abercrombie’s universe."
Why Read Beneath the Pines: A First Law Fan Fiction
Welcome to Beneath the Pines, an immersive First Law fan fiction inspired by Joe Abercrombie’s dark and unforgiving fantasy world. This story captures the grim tone, morally gray characters, and unpredictable twists that define The First Law series. Fans of First Law fan fiction will feel at home in this tale of betrayal, survival, and the struggle for power deep within shadowy forests.
Set in a corner of The First Law universe, Beneath the Pines explores the brutal decisions characters face in a world where loyalty is fleeting, and the line between hero and villain is blurred. Whether you’re new to Joe Abercrombie’s world or a longtime fan seeking more stories within his grimdark setting, this First Law fan fiction is a perfect escape.
Beneath the Pines | Joe Abercrombie First Law Fan Fiction Adventure
The woods were thick and dark, the pines towering above, their branches like fingers clawing at the sky. The damp air clung to Logen Ninefingers, making his shirt stick to his back as he crouched low, scanning the treeline. A heavy silence hung over the forest, the kind that made a man’s gut twist with the certainty of violence to come.
“Smells off,” the Dogman muttered beside him, his nose wrinkling. “Like blood.”
Logen grunted, his scarred face grim. “Something’s out there. Something close.”
Dogman’s hand drifted to his sword. “Maybe it’s just wolves.”
Logen shook his head. “Not wolves. Wolves don’t make the woods go quiet.” He could feel it in his bones, the way he always did before things went bad. Like a shadow looming over his shoulder, just out of sight.
They moved slowly, picking their way through the undergrowth. Each step careful, each breath controlled. Logen kept his ears sharp, his eyes sharper. You didn’t survive long in the North without learning how to read the world around you. The world didn’t care about a man’s plans or his wants—it just waited, patient, for you to make a mistake.
“You reckon we’ll ever stop running?” Dogman asked, his voice a low rumble. “Feels like we’ve been on the move for months. Bethod won’t stop till he’s got us all, will he?”
“Maybe,” Logen said. “But he hasn’t got us yet.”
Dogman grunted. “Could be he’s just waiting for us to make a mistake.”
“Could be.” Logen glanced at him, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. “But I reckon we’ve made plenty of those already, and we’re still breathing.”
Dogman snorted. “For now.”
They stopped at a narrow stream, the water rushing over smooth rocks, the sound unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent forest. Dogman knelt to splash his face, his eyes darting nervously between the trees. Logen stayed standing, his back to the water, watching, waiting. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.
Too quiet. Too still.
“You hear that?” Logen asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dogman froze, his hand still in the water. “What?”
“Exactly.”
And then the forest exploded.
A shape burst from the trees, all claws and fangs and fury. A Shanka, twisted and wrong, its skin mottled and stretched tight over bone, eyes burning with hate. Logen barely had time to move before it was on him, snarling like a rabid beast.
He sidestepped, his sword flashing out, cutting deep into the creature’s side. It howled, black blood spraying across the ground, but it didn’t stop. Shanka never stopped.
Dogman drew his sword, swiping at the thing’s neck, but it twisted away, claws flashing. Logen ducked, his back slamming into a tree as he barely avoided the strike. He slashed again, feeling the satisfying crunch of steel biting into bone.
The Shanka staggered, its snarl turning into a gurgle, and collapsed in the dirt, twitching.
“Shit,” Dogman breathed, wiping his sword clean. “There’s never just one, is there?”
Logen wiped the sweat from his brow, eyes scanning the treeline. “No. There’s never just one.”
As if on cue, the woods around them came alive with movement. More Shanka, crashing through the undergrowth, their guttural growls filling the air.
“Five, six,” Dogman muttered, counting the figures as they closed in. “Too many.”
Logen tightened his grip on his sword. “Always too many.”
They turned and ran, their boots pounding the forest floor. The Shanka gave chase, their snarls growing louder with every step. The ground sloped upward, trees flashing past as they scrambled through the thickening woods. Logen’s breath came hard, his muscles burning from the effort, but he pushed on.
“Getting close!” Dogman shouted, glancing over his shoulder. “Can’t outrun ’em forever!”
Logen didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. They both knew how this would end.
Ahead, the forest broke, the ground dropping away into a sharp ravine. No way forward. Dogman skidded to a stop at the edge, his face pale as he looked down.
“No choice!” Logen growled, his voice hoarse.
“You’re mad!” Dogman spat.
Logen grinned, that wild, reckless grin that had seen him through more scrapes than he could count. “Always have been.”
Without waiting for an answer, he leapt, the wind howling in his ears as the ground dropped away beneath him. For a moment, he felt weightless, free, soaring through the air like a bird.
Then the world went sideways.
The ground crumbled beneath his feet, sending him tumbling into the ravine, dirt and rock crashing around him. Logen flailed, reaching for something—anything—to slow his fall, but his fingers only found empty air. He hit the rocks below hard, pain exploding through his body, and then the world went black.
When Logen woke, his mouth was full of blood, and the sky above was dark, a few stars peeking through the treetops. Every part of him hurt, and his head felt like it had been split in two.
He groaned, spitting blood and dirt, and sat up slowly, his back screaming in protest. The ravine stretched out around him, the walls steep and unforgiving.
“Well,” he muttered to himself, coughing. “Still alive.”
He looked up at the cliff edge far above, wondering if Dogman had made the jump, or if he’d gone another way. Either way, Logen was alone. Again.
“Back to the mud,” he said, chuckling grimly.
And so, Logen Ninefingers stood, his body aching, his sword heavy in his hand. He wasn’t dead yet, and that meant he still had choices.
Further Exploration: Dive Deeper into “The First Law”
If you’re captivated by the world of Joe Abercrombie and fan-created tales like Beneath the Pines, here are some additional resources to enrich your experience:
Related Articles on Paranoid Prophet
Dive deeper into the world of Joe Abercrombie with these thrilling fan stories and creative tributes:
- Beneath the Pines:
A haunting and atmospheric fan fiction set in the shadowy woods of Abercrombie’s First Law universe, exploring betrayal, survival, and moral ambiguity. - A Cold Night in the North:
Journey into the icy north with this dark tale of grit and desperation, bringing to life the harsh realities of Abercrombie’s unforgiving world. - The Red Mist:
A visceral fan fiction exploring the chaos of vengeance and the blood-soaked legend of the Bloody-Nine. - Fan Art Description: Logen Ninefingers:
Discover a vivid tribute to Logen Ninefingers, the infamous antihero, through an evocative fan art description that captures his fierce and chaotic essence.
These stories and artistic explorations celebrate the depth and complexity of Joe Abercrombie’s First Law universe, providing fans with gripping narratives and vivid reimaginings.
External Resources
- Purchase “The First Law” Trilogy on Amazon: Get the complete trilogy and immerse yourself in Abercrombie’s gritty and unpredictable world.
- First Law Wiki: Explore a detailed compendium of characters, locations, and lore from the series.
- Joe Abercrombie’s Official Website: Stay updated with news, insights, and the latest works from the creator of “The First Law.”
