Here is the CAST: (Approximation, some characters are skewed.)
Don Pedro: Gandalf
Don John: Saruman
The Night Watch: Haldir, Orophin, Rumil
Dogberry and Verges: Eledan and Elrohir
Before the rays of Arien broke upon the horizon, a messenger approached Rivendell. He drove his steed at a gallop, his mission one of haste. He slipped through hidden paths and bridges, guided only by his skilled ranger eyes and the words of a wizard. Finally, he emerged into the Hidden Valley of Imladris, protected by Lord Elrond Peredhil, as day's first light shined upon it's tallest tower.
Elven guards, ever watchful, held weapons at the ready as the horseman crossed the final bridge to the haven. He held aloft a banner, marking him as friend to Elrond's house.
"Peace, friends!" the man cried. "I have a message for Lord Elrond! I come under the mark of the Istari!"
He was then greeted by slip of an elf, who waved his hand at the guards to stand down.
"I am Lindir," he declared, tentatively approaching the rider, who dismounted at the greeting.
"I am Faramir, son of Denethor, of Gondor."
"What news from our friends in the West?"
"I hath a letter, penned by the Wizards Gandalf the Grey and Saruman the White." Faramir revealed a sealed parchment. "I've instructions to give this to Lord Elrond."
Lindir nodded. "I will take you to him." He motioned for another elf to take Faramir's steed, then turned on his heel to show him the way. Faramir followed closely behind, while taking in the splendors of the hidden dwelling, noting each step and turn amid the glittering architecture and rushing waterfalls. Lindir led him to a tall set of doors, and knocked three times.
"Who dares disturb my slumber?" Came an drawling voice from within, tinged with irritation, followed by a high pitched giggle, then a sigh from yet a third person.
"Relax, Ada, you can more than your fair share to drink last night."
The higher, feminine voice, added "Oh, do not worry so, Legolas!"
The door opened, revealing a elleth of raven hair and shining eyes that held wisdom and mirth. "Lindir! What matter brings you here so early?"
"A messenger of the Istari, M'lady." He said simply, before bowing and taking his leave.
Faramir stepped forward. "I am to seek out Lord Elrond. Is he among you?"
"I am here." Spoke a fourth Elf from the furthest corner of the room. His voice was clear and pleasant. He offered as warm smile as he approached the door. "What news do you bring?"
Faramir handed him the message, which Elrond quickly scanned, and his smile grew wide. "I learn here in this letter, that the Istari Mithrandir and Saruman comes this night to Rivendell."
'He is very near, M'lord. Not three leagues off when I left him."
"Since when does Mithrandir announce his visits?" asked a blond, fair elf with a crown of twigs sitting askew upon his head. "I've never known him to act in so proper a fashion." Faramir disliked the haughty air about him.
"In truth, it was Saruman's idea." Faramir admitted.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Said a younger elf, also fair of hair and face. His stance was so similar to the crowned elf that Faramir could only assume they were direct kin.
"They come with a company of Men from the White City. They hath driven back a lingering darkness that was set upon the land." Faramir revealed.
"How many have you lost in this action?" Elrond asked.
"But few of any sort, and none of name."
Elrond gave a small sigh of relief, and continuing to inspect the letter. "I find here that the Istari have bestowed much honor on a ranger called Aragorn."
"Oh, what roses I spy upon thy cheeks, Arwen!" teased Legolas. For surely, the elleth bore a blush and fervently waved him away.
"He hath borne himself beyond the promise of a king! I cannot speak well enough of his deeds. His bravery is beyond measure, as is the rest of their party, my brother Boromir and Gimli, son of Gloin included."
"Gimli? Ada, is that not the son of one of Oakenshield's company, whom you imprisoned for some time?" Legolas asked lazily.
"A Dwarf?" The older blond spat, and furiously sipped at a glass of wine. "I had hoped that Mithrandir had learned to stop meddling with the likes of the Naugrim."
"Language, Thranduil." Elrond admonished.
"I remember this dwarf—that father of his kept his portrait in a locket. I happened upon the two of them during some trades with Erebor some years ago. He hath an excellent stomach." Legolas said, implying much about the dwarf's physical state, and Thranduil smiled wickedly in approval. "I pray you, how many hath he killed, and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? For indeed I promised to eat all of his killing."
Faramir was taken aback at the unusual statement, wondering at what strange games this apparently noble elf was playing. He struggled to respond."Gimli is a valiant warrior." Faramir declared, defending the dwarf. "He hath done good service in these wars."
"And what is he to a lord?"
"...a lord, to a lord. Stuffed with all honorable virtues."
"It is so indeed, he is no less than a stuffed Dwarf!" said elf with a flourish. His father raised his glass. "Who is his companion now? He always hath some new sworn brother trailing with him."
"He is most in the company of the right and noble Aragorn."
Legolas gave an exaggerated sigh and looked despairingly at Arwen. "Sweet Elbereth, he shall hang upon him like a disease!"
"You must not mind the young Prince," Elrond consoled Faramir, who by now was unsure how to proceed with the conversation. It was obvious that Legolas would play word games all day if given half the chance.
"Of course M'lord," he conceded, and added, to Legolas, "I will refrain from mentioning. For I can see that Gimli is not in your good books.
"No, and if he were, I would burn my library!" Legolas declared and joined his father for a glass of wine.
Lindir returned then, to inform them of the wizards' approach.
Elrond sighed. "Then let us make haste, for Saruman does not like to be kept waiting."
"This should be interesting," Arwen whipsered to Faramir, who was now glad for a distraction. He wasn't sure if he could handle any more mischief.