Elrond and Glrofindel swiftly made their way up the stair to the council rotunda, Imladris burning with the light of the setting sun. Elrond walked with a heavy heart. Over an age ago, another such council as this had granted him Lordship of Imladris along with Vilya, burdens both he still bore. And never was Vilya so heavy as on days such as this, when council was taken among the wise, for such council was only taken at utmost need. How dearly he desired to be back in his study, or with his wife and children in the Hall of Fire. Much as the sun was setting over his home, he feared that the council would confirm that peace was setting on Middle-Earth once more.
As they approached the top of the stairs, the sentinel at the top stood at attention.
"My Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel" the sentinel intoned as he gave a small salute to the Lord of Rivendell.
"Leave us Aluran" Elrond commanded "Take up watch at the bottom of the stairwell and we shall call upon you once you are required again." While Elrond trusted all the inhabitants of Rivendell, this council was need-to-know only. Aluran gave him a short nod before brushing past him and Glorfindel down the stairs.
As they entered, Glorfindel and him took up respective spots in the council rotunda; himself taking the seat closest to the entry while Glorfindel opted to stand near one of the columns on the outer edges, gazing out upon the valley.
Elrond took in the council assembled before him with a deep breath. To the left of him sat Cirdan, whom he gave a short nod to, which the aged elf returned in kind. To his right sat Mithrandir, who after greeting him upon his entrance was now nursing a glass of wine.
Across from him sat Saruman, who met his gaze levelly with a slight incline of his head. The white Istari was not one inclined to shows of emotion nor rash action, but there was respect between him and Elrond, born of their comradery as seekers of knowledge.
To Saruman's left sat a Sindar Elf, a herald of King Thranduil. This was perhaps the most worrying part of the council. While the Sindar in general had no great love of the Noldor, Thranduil had always come in person to speak and take council with him in the past. Sending a herald instead of coming himself lended heavy credence to the rumors of ill tidings in the Greenwood.
Feeling a sensation of greeting and warm affection washing over him, he turned to the person on Saruman's right side. Galadriel, his mother in law, gave him a small smile, which he returned, sending a wave of warmth and welcome over the mental link. Her smile grew a slight bit wider.
On Galadriel's right was Erestor, and the council was rounded out with 2 members of the council of Lindon. While Elrond himself was nominal head of the Noldor in Middle-Earth and the final authority (due to his status as Gil-Galad's vice-regent and de-facto heir to the High-Kingship), the council, headed by Cirdan, was charged with overseeing Lindon in day-to-day affairs. It was composed of several Elven Lords and very well respected elves from throughout Lindon.
Seeing the whole council gathered, he took a small breath as he rose from his seat.
"Friends from lands afar, allies of old, you have been called here to discuss the grim tiding that have reached us all. Rumors have spread of the Greenwood becoming overrun by foul creatures (here, the herald gave a slight flinch, almost unnoticeable by mannish standards), an incredibly grave situation if this is true." He paused slightly here, before continuing on, staring to pace as was his want when he entered deep contemplation. "Indeed, not alone are these ill tiding. Rumors of war have come out of the south and the east. Gondor has grown weaker since the loss of the line of Kings; their enemies to the east ready for war, while to the south they are ever bit at the heel by the Corsairs. The Kingdom of Rhovanion, a close ally of both Gondor and the Kingdom of Greenwood, teeters on the brink of collapse, brought about by years of savage raids by the Balchoth. And finally the Goblins of the Misty Mountains have become far more aggressive of late."
He stopped his pacing, placing a hand on the back of his seat as he began to sit back down. "We are gathered here to share what knowledge and tiding we have, and to formulate a way to respond to these threats that even now may be growing stronger. I fear that if these rumors all prove true, it may be too late already to save this watchful peace in which we have dwelled the last 400 years."
He gazed out upon the council once more; surely all these mighty wizards and great lords could find a solution to the problems facing them? Feeling marginally more assured he finished, "I now declare this council begun and leave the floor open for any who wish to begin. What tidings do you bring? What do you know of the situation afar that others may not? Together, we will piece the picture together, and find a solution."
Here begins the record of the Second Council of the Wise, as recorded and recalled by Erestor and Elrond Peredhil, with anecdotes from Galadriel and Olorin - Grand Archive of New Imladris, Aman, 7th Age