Disclaimer: Not mine. My memory of the Silmarillion is shady, so if there is wrong information here, forgive me.
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Of Alqualondë, Haven of the Swans, and the Kinslaying
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Long years have past since it was last heard of, the glistening white Haven of the Swans, shimmering under the silver stars. Where it now stands, alone and solemn, none now know, for the winds blow now in a different direction than they did so long before, sweeping up the dust and the sand, and shifting, shifting ever so. The storms harsh have blown over it, and the sun has beat down, golden and spectral, over its roof. The rain has battered its way down their foundations, tracing clear, cool and cruel down the intertwining images painstakingly carved on pillar, and the earth now crackles in brazen heat as it erodes slowly under the vicious nature that moves ever changing over it. It was so long ere this that the soft lapping of the crystal waters were splashing down on the harbour before the brilliant elegance of the curved structure of those white and silver boats, the very boats that from broke crisis, and the sturdy assurance of their white ships, and with it came tinkling laughter of child melding with the flowing waters, so unblemished by horror, and yet one of the greatest sins was then committed on those very shores that at one time held the giggling child and watchful mother, the strong warrior and the wise counsellor. The Kinslaying, the red blood that fell on the untarnished roads and blackened the pure waters. The white shores turned red by the hand of the sword, as elf clashed upon elf, and the brotherhood of the Firstborn was then broken. Now the silence rings fiercer even than the sounds of clashing metal, and yet the soft, rhythmic lapping of the waters still are as they were so long ago, telling of the stained past, and the tarnished future that now can never be.
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Of Gondolin, the Hidden Rock, the Hidden City, and of Glorfindel (yay!) and the Battle with the Balrog.
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Oh the fair city of Gondolin! Forged, hidden in the mountains, fair was this rock, with its magnitude and captivating magnificence. The bravura of its shining lamps, the wonder of its carved pillars, the brilliance of its streets and the intensive art that surrounded its entire structure, as a massive painting, a single flower standing out in a field, a sparkle in the midst of darkness. The flowing reflections of the Elven fair in its fountains as they spurt water high above the ground, the silver encrusted works of art, the mithril and the diamonds, fair was the time of Gondolin! From it flowed wealth, and high honour, and its walls spoke of glory unheard. Tucked away in its far corner, the city sat guarded day and night, with its seven gates and its high walls, it was born of secrecy and it held its hidden power. Yet, hidden as it was, it could not escape, and Morgorth found his way, even through methods unbeknown to Gondolin's people. So betrayed by their own kin, Maeglin, and fallen was the city. The red fires roared high in blazing heat, and shadow over came the white city. The balrogs were loose, and they ravaged the streets, and yet there were those courageous enough to stand up to the monstrous beasts of evil. Glorfindel, chief of the guard of the House of the Golden Flower was one. Of the battle upon the pinnacle of a rock after the sack of the city many tales were woven, as they fought, and steel clashed with claw, shadow battling a small light that simply refused to die. So upon that perilous ledge they parried, back and forth, hither and thither, and finally, the balrog was slain in Glorfindel's last, valiant effort, and fell down the endless gorge. Weary, he staggered away, just as the evil came up for a desperate cling to life, and dragged him down, down in the black cavern that went ever downwards. Late were the eagles, but still they managed to retrieve the fallen elf's body, and lay it to rest upon a mound. Silent in mourning were the fallen tears, and he was never seen upon the face of Middle-Earth until one day, his soul left Mandos' halls to claim its place once more...