"Gildor! Gildor Inglorion!" a voice cried in pleasant surprise.
Gildor turned. The voice sounded familiar, and a name came to his mind, but he dared not trust this thought. He searched the market of Lindon with his eyes and did not have to look long before he saw a resplendent form.
"Glorfindel?" he asked disbelievingly, thinking his eyes must be deceiving him. Was that truly his old friend, Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin standing in this market in Lindon?
Gildor closed the distance between them with great strides, pushing heedlessly past other elves, and approached the warrior who awaited him with a welcoming smile on his lips.
"Glorfindel!" he cried again, now certain it was he, and the other elf laughed cheerfully at his disbelief.
The blond elf opened his arms to welcome him as a dear friend, and Gildor returned the smile. Oh how Gildor had wept on hearing of his dear friend's fate at the fall of the proud hidden city! To see him now was as if the sun had newly broken through the clouds and warmed him now with its light.
He could hardly contain his happiness; still, he remembered that he owed Glorfindel, and debts had to be paid. And thus, once he finally stood in front of him, Gildor Inglorion raised his fist and let it fly.
"Ow!"
Glorfindel's head jerked to the side and he fell backwards onto the street from the force.
Elves around them, having born witness to the violence, cried out in surprise, but Glorfindel and Gildor paid them no heed.
Glorfindel, holding his sore jaw, laughed uproariously and Gildor joined him, though tears blurred his eyes. Offering a hand, he pulled Glorfindel up and right into his arms.
There, his debt was paid.
Don't ask me where it came from, or why Gildor. This story is a very old one that was on my hard drive and that I finally managed to - more or less - punch into shape. Thanks for reading, reviews are always welcome.