“I can’t do this.”
Aragorn pressed his forehead with shaking hands, surrendering to his nerves.
Swallowing a smile, Faramir poured him wine. “You can, m’lord. You’ve faced far worse things. Orcs and…”
“This isn’t the same,” Aragorn interrupted, taking the goblet. He nodded gratefully to the steward. “I’ve never presided over a council.”
“They’re only men and all support you.”
Seeing this insurmountable warrior wracked with anxious butterflies filled Faramir with an admiration for his king that no battle feat could ever match.
With a comforting hand on Aragorn’s shoulder he reassured: “Don’t worry. I’ll be right by your side.”