If you don't have your Quenya handy, it means The Lost Wild.
A place for all that has been let go, yet is missed. Or that which has not yet been attained and which is perhaps hidden. Or forbidden.
Where love and pain, longing and fear and power touch and blend until they cannot be separated...should one desire to do so.
And what better place to (re)visit these desires than on the poor lovely body and mind of our dear Faramir.
Forgive me for playing with him so. He is all of us, and in so many ways.
Perhaps it is he who does the torturing, and we who writhe, cry out, and smile.