Lessons in Torture

"You educate a man; you educate a man. You educate a woman; you educate a generation."
― Brigham Young

Faramir was more nervous about his first lesson with Lady Gryffon than he let on. The only thing that showed was sort of extremely calm face that he wore when he faced his father. She quickly dissuaded him of that.

"Don't be formal with me," the Lady said cheerfully. "I will put you on your back if you don't stop that."

He hesitated for only a moment and then the breath was knocked out of him and he was staring up at the barely pinkening sky, wondering how on earth he managed to get this orc to teach him.

"Well?" she asked, peering down at him.

Faramir came up swinging and she laughed as she parried it. He gave a lunge and she danced to the side quickly, faster than any human had any right to be and she grabbed his sword arm, a knife pointed to his throat.

"Yield?" she asked, still with the same infuriatingly cheerful smile.

"Yes," he said gruffly, massaging his hand. "How did you do that?"

"Experience, and a lot of training," Lady Gryffon said with a serious face. "My first opponents were not humans, Faramir. I was twelve when I first held my sword and I was just told to stick the sharp end in the snake. It was a forty foot snake too. And then there are the dark wolves, the trolls and the rabid bears. When the Dunedain came, I had to learn how to fight humans."

He knew she probably did it to derail him and it worked pretty well. But he didn't want to give her the satisfaction, not when she was clearly expecting his jaw to drop like an idiots'. So he pushed that thought to the side of his mind and told himself he'd think about it later.

"I suppose they didn't have to teach you not to be intimidated? Forty-foot snakes are rather more frightening than any human," he said instead.

Gryffon gave him a disappointed look when he didn't oblige. "Oh, some of that. But their most serious lesson was not to underestimate humans like I had been doing then. Humans had something that animals didn't," she said.

"And what is that?"

"Wits, my dear lordship. Intelligence and wits," she answered with relish.

And for the next remaining hour, proceeded to pound that into his mind. She pulled him through stretches and laps and then laughed at him when he complained. When he was done complaining, she told him to do another set of them.

"What?" she asked at his incredulous look. "If you have the breath to complain, then you have the breath to run."

He ran. If he was looking like a limp noodle by the end of it, Gryffon didn't say anything.

"Don't sit down afterwards," she warned him. "The ground in the courtyard is cool at this time. It will give you a cramp if you do."

Faramir didn't nod. He didn't even have the energy to wipe his forehead. All the strength he had was o fill his lungs with air.

A wooden cup filled with water was thrust under his nose. He blearily blinked at his angelic-looking instructor. What if she spiked it with something else to increase his suffering? She was truly an orc in disguise.

"Go on and drink it, Faramir. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't do so through poisoning," she said irritably.

It isn't death that I fear, he though mournfully as he guzzled it down slowly.

His morbid thoughts didn't occur to his tutor at all. She carelessly flopped on the stone, wincing a little at the icy coldness of it and proceeded to smile at him with mischief.

"My lady, what?" he asked with trepidation. Smiles like that weren't good news. Not at all. Especially when it was aimed at him.

"You're going to run around the Training court thirty times every morning," she said with the same smile. "And when you can do that without stopping, I'll add another five laps. That will continue for a month."

Faramir tried not to get too dizzy at that prospect. And to think he agreed to this yesterday!

"Don't faint," she continued. "You are allowed to stop. You just are not allowed not to finish them."

"Punishment?" he murmured.

"A little extra weight you will be forced to carry," she said ominously.

Manwë! But he was Faramir, son of Denethor. He would not give up, nor give in to the urge to try and kill her. Nope, he would not want an international war happening.

"Of course, my lady," he muttered.

Lady Enids teaching methods were immensely different from Lady Gryffons. But he was probably biased seeing as he had nearly drowned himself in the bathtub when he had fallen asleep in the warm water.

She set him to reading dozens of book that made him question everything he had taught since childhood. Lady Enid sat patiently with him, her quill scratching away on paper. He only finished one book but he already felt like he had been made to consider everything.

"Is indoctrination present in Haven?" he asked her.

Her smile was serene and very pleased with him. "Yes. But we try to minimize it. It is inevitable though. Haven boasts itself on safety, but we try not to make our people complacent and unafraid. Fear teaches you important things. If you are unused to it, then you cannot move in-spite of the fear."

Faramir's mind worked quickly. "Is that why you created the Bortherhood and the Order? To remind people of the danger?"

"Yes. So Lord Faramir, tell me. Does Gondor have any doctrines that they have slowly imparted on their children?" she asked.

Her voice was gentle. She wasn't cynical, despite the topic on hand. Lady Enid had accepted doctrines as part of life. It was something he hadn't known until that moment, and his shock was understandable.

"You do not need to answer me," she continued. "But that is something for you to think about."

He gave her a deep bow, the same one he had given to Lady Gryffon. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and time, my lady."

Lady Enid looked startled, and then she laughed. "No, do not thank me. You should use the next few hours wisely. Hodur is going to wait for you in his office after luncheon. His office is opposite mine."

Faramir left, his mind going in different directions and so distracted that he almost ran into a wall. If he had looked back, he would have seen blind Lord Hodur slink into Lady Enid's office. He didn't though, so he also didn't hear Lord Hodur ask if he had been drugged, considering the glazed look in his eyes.

It was, perhaps a complete accident that Lord Faramir wandered into Cailyn's bakeshop for his luncheon. But then again, seeing as the city was Haven, coincidence was hard to discount.]

Faramir didn't know who she was, initially, even if she knew him. But most of the people who entered gave her respectful bows, going as far as to call her Lady Cailyn. It didn't take long for him to notice, or to connect the dots.

"You are the spouse of…" he trailed off, wondering how to phrase it without sounding ruder than anything.

"Lord Guiomer," she supplied. "How do you find your soup, my lord?"

While his mind was furiously turning out why a lords wife worked in a bakeshop, his mouth answered automatically, "Perfectly well, though it seems a bit bland."

She gave a small sigh. "Oh, that. Unfortunately, there always seems to be a quarrel regarding the salt. I just place a small portion of the salt on the table."

It perfectly solved the problem, even if it was slightly unconventional. Faramir found himself relaxing, even if it was in such a public place. Lady Cailyn just did that to people. She could make people at ease just by being in their proximity. It was a gift.

The rest of his luncheon was spent pleasantly chatting and pondering on topics that made him laugh. And then he asked, "How did you meet Lord Guiomer, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

Her brown eyes sparkled. "Everyone knows how we met, but no one knew that he was in mourning then." At his look, she expounded, "Lady Gryffon had vanished for six months, following a vision that led her to Rohan. No one was certain if she was still alive."

"A vision?" he asked.

Surprise was on her face. "Oh, didn't you know? Our Lords and Ladies come from a long line of blessed ones, a secret family that just came forth. My bet is something on the elves, but anyway, they each have gifts that they share to Haven. The most known is Lady Gryffons foresight."

"Like Elrond of Rivendell?" he remarked before he could help himself.

She beamed at him. "Exactly!"

And since he was already in the bulk of it, he might as well get some good done. "Isn't that gift of foresight a myth?" he asked.

"Every myth has some order of truth," Lady Cailyn recited. "Lady Enid taught us that. And Lady Eilys taught us never to disbelieve because it is better to believe what is unfathomable than be astounded when confronted by the truth."

That was unbelievably logical, even if it was as outlandish and ridiculous as anything. After his mind wrapped itself around that, he eventually laughed.

"Haven seems to have a way of shattering the foundations of my life," he said after his laughter had tapered out.

Instead of being insulted, Cailyn preened. "Thank you!" she said happily. "We do try our best."

One thing that the luncheon with Lady Cailyn taught him was not to expect anything normal, or mundane in Haven. ordinary chores had the sudden magic of being extraordinary. It would stand to reason that what would have been ordinary lessons would become extraordinary. Case in point, Lady Enids lesson.

Reading had never been so phenomenal, or life-changing. Even the dragon stories of his childhood did not compare to it.

In the case of extraordinary lessons, Faramir did not count Lady Gryffon. Form her brilliant hair, glittering green eyes and the very life bursting out of her, he knew that every moment with her would be an eye-opening experience, be it paperwork or conversation.

Maybe he admired her a little, but who wouldn't? there was something about a woman who could disarm you while being gracious about it. But then again, perhaps it was the complete compassion in her face and the fact that, when he looked into her eyes, he saw a kindred soul.

Luncheon, however, ended and Faramir found himself once again in the Research Department, this time inside Lord Hodur's office.

The difference was startling.

What had dominated Lady Enids room were parchment, scrolls and books. It was spacious and messy. Faramir had known, since he was very well acquainted with his brothers own habits, that the mess had its own place and any attempts of cleaning it up would result in scrolls getting lost instead.

In Lord Hodur's room, there were jars and packets of different brewing materials. Some of them were indecipherable blobs of black while others were simple weeds that Faramir knew he always stepped on. There were only two bookshelves and one held journals while the other held heavy tomes bound in black leather.

"I'm here for my lesson, my lord," he called out.

He became aware of sheaves of paper being rustled several times. And then Lord Hodur emerged, scowling spectacularly.

"You are quite late," Lord Hodur said. "But never mind that. Look to my desk and tell me what you see."

Was it wise to speak about seeing with a blind person? Faramir did not know, but he obliged anyway.

"It is a chess set," he said with some trepidation. "My father plays it sometimes. Usually against the Prince of Ithilien."

"Do you know how to play it?" came the dreaded question. Since there was no use going on about distracting him, Faramir sighed with resignation.

"No sir. Well, I know how to play it but I don't understand half of what I'm doing." Okay, it finally cmae out. Lord Hodur will inally let him out of the office in disappointment.

And then Lord Hodur snorted. "I'm not surprised. My cousin Enid was the one to teach Denethor how to play. His mind was sharp enough to defeat her within a week of learning it. I learned that those who learn quickly cannot teach those who learn slow. You are fortunate, Lord Faramir, that I was one of those who learned slow."

That startled him. Hodur looked like someone who learned quickly.

"Take a seat and arrange them," Hodur snapped as he rustled papers. "And don't be slow about it."

Faramir scrambled to obey. He got the feeling that Hodur didn't like him very much.

"We'll start with the pawns then," Hodur said with a definite sigh in his voice. "Think of them as farmers, peasants and small soldiers with little intellect and no hope of gaining a command. They are usually the ones we sacrifice."

The mention of sacrifice startled Faramir. He opened his mouth to object, maybe question, but Lord Hodur had continued to the next piece and was describing the rook with the same bluntness and comparison to reality to make sure it stayed in Faramirs brain. It definitely worked since it was morbidly disturbing.

"Questions?" Hodur finally asked, pausing long enough to drink from a cup of tea that Faramir was sure wasn't there before.

"You mention sacrifice," Faramir quickly put in. "Isn't this simply a game? But either way, if It was true in this life, isn't sacrifice the last thing you should do?"

The cup dropped to the saucer with a clink. Faramir flinched because he was expecting it to break.

'A young mother, standing in front of a crib, sacrificing her life so that her cold corpse would cover the child and keep her from harm," Lord Hodur stated with detachment. "Is that something to avoid? Ah, only if it wasn't inevitable. Do not be naive, Lord Faramir. There is ignorance and there is innocence. I will try to preserve the latter."

Faramir worked that out and blinked at his stupidity. Okay, so maybe Lord Hodur didn't hate him outright.

"Alright," he said, acquiescing to the other mans wisdom.

Hodur nodded briskly. "Good. There are two ways about it. It's either die uselessly or die with meaning… In a way that will never be forgotten by anybody. Then it is no longer called death, or sacrifice. It is called martyrdom. Or if you prefer, symbols."

"Symbols?"

He nodded again, pouring himself a second cup of tea and taking a bite out of a biscuit that really hadn't been there minutes ago. "Symbols are dangerous, Faramir, especially if they are people. Unmoving objects that become symbols are free for interpretation. But that is limited. People, however, say things. And the things they say are more dangerous than any knife, or poison in this world," Hodur said. "Can you think of someone who is a symbol?"

Confronted with a question, Faramirs mind turned blank. "Err, uh,. A moment please."

"By all means," Hodur responded dryly. "But it would help you if you look closer to home."

Oh!

Faramir perked up. "Gondor then. Well, there's my father and my brother Boromir."

"Good," and Hodur flashed him a small and rare smile of approval. "In that point a king is like a symbol…"

They went back to chess and it consumed Faramirs thoughts so completely that he did not notice the position of the sun until he found he could no longer look at the board without squinting.

When he mentioned this to the blind man, he just shook his head and smiled, saying, "Eat your dinner. Sleep well and try not to forget everything you learned today."

For Faramir, it had been a day of exhausting learning. For his three tutors, it had been a day to test their students' limits and see how far they could push him.

It was a very profitable day for all parties involved.

OMAKE:

When Boromir found out

Boromir was tired and irritable with the lack of sleep. After a spending nearly a season with the captains of Ogsgiliath, he just wanted to see his bed and his brother.

It was with great surprise, however, that his brother's room was empty. His clothes were packed, as was his sword. And in the small cupboard by the door, the saddlebags were gone.

Boromir felt his heart clench. Before he had left, his brother and his father had been at each others throats so the absence of his brother made him nervous, just a bit.

And then he finally heard where his brother had been sent and he yelled at his manservant to pack his saddlebags and to ready his horse. If his brother was hurt, he'd just break whatever was holding him and drag him back to Gondor for his own safety.

When will we get to see them using magic and not just wards?

Uhm, I just find it redundant to write about the magic, y'know? I have read the HP books backwards, forwards and sideways. The only time they mention magic is when there is battle.

When you think about it, then maybe the other three will use magic for battle, but Heather had been getting used to using swords and knives. People travel with her, you see, so hiding it has become second nature.

More political trouble and assassinations for Denethor?

I wish! But they really can't assassinate the man, no matter how annoying he is. There will be minor trouble but not by much. And not so obviously.

What is Kreacher?

He's not a mini-elf, nor is he a House elf anymore. He's a completely new race that's bound to just one other race. It's hard to describe, but I haven't abandoned Kreachers development.

And that's it. Lol, did anyone notice Kreacher serving Draco all that tea and biscuits? Unobtrusively, of course. I found that funny as anything.

Please R&R.

~Hallen