Gil-Galad gave a nod to the page sitting in the room. The elfling stood up and walked briskly to the doors. He proceeded to close them, one at a time, until all four were shut and locked, and he on the outside to keep watch over the doors with the royal guard. If an emergency arose, the boy would pound out a code in a series of knocks on the door. It was unlikely there would be anyone of importance who would disturb the occupants of the room, for they were all within.
“Before we begin, introductions,” directed Gil-Galad. “While I know all of you, and all of you I should hope know me, I would like to be sure we know each other.” He motioned his hand to his right, away from his chief advisor to his left, whose hand flew across the page to document every word of the meeting to follow.
“Galadriel,” stated the lady sitting beside the High King. “My husband, Celeborn, and I are here to represent the land of Laurelindórenan, both at our own request, and by the orders of King Amdir.” Celeborn was not immediately to her right, and so he raised a few fingers to distinguish who he was, lest anyone think that the blond Elven-lord beside Galadriel was her spouse.
“Gildor Inglorion,” he said as soon as Galadriel finished speaking. “My interest is for those refugees of Eregion who have not yet found a suitable arrangement. Such as myself,” he added just as the next person was about to speak.
The elf beside Celeborn gave it a moment more before he spoke, in case Gildor had more he wished to add. In very practiced and refined Sindarin he spoke as he bowed his head to the others. “Elrond of Imladris. Though I may not possess the wisdom of others here, I hope that I may prove my worth.”
“You have already, Elrond,” said Gil-Galad warmly. He smiled and then gave a nod to the dark figure beside his future herald.
“Erestor, advisor of Imladris.” Erestor was about to say something more when he jerked his head to the side and gave Gil-Galad’s advisor a wary look.
“Is something wrong, Erestor?” asked Celeborn, who had been watching every movement with diligence and wondered now what had been said, for he had seen the unannounced Elf move his lips, but had not heard the word.
“Sorry. I thought I heard something,” answered Erestor. His gaze lingered a moment more before he looked back to the others.
“You heard what I said,” mumbled the elf beside him.
Erestor clenched his jaw, collected himself, and continued. “I have been asked to sit on this council not only as aid to Lord Elrond, but also at the behest of King Oropher, that I might be good enough at this time to provide reports to His Majesty as needed.”
Without lifting his quill or his gaze, the final member of the group spoke. “I am Taursador Saerosion, formerly of Doriath, currently of Lindon. I serve His Majesty, the High King,” he replied reverently. “I shall serve as his advisor for this council, and as scribe.”
“Well, then.” Gil-Galad took a moment to look over the two advisors, one with hand calmly poised to write down the very next thing he said, and the other seeming ill at-ease now, uncommon for Erestor. “I call this first meeting of the White Council to order.”
"Traitor." by Zhie