I created this story in one of those rare moments, you're awake, and yet sleeping. It doesn't make much sense, but it could give you an explanation if you wondered why Legolas never fails with his bow. Furthermore, it's a kind of a folk story of the Nymphs, and it can help you to understand them a bit more. Hope you enjoy it! And please, review!

Once, there was a dream. And in that dream, two Elves met.

He was a warrior, fair, tall and valiant, with dreamy eyes and tender hands. His hair was luminous as the sun, and his mouth ever-smiling. He was the prince of an extensive forest in the West, and his people loved and obeyed him.

She came from the East, from the lands that touched the Great Desert. Like him, she was long and slender, beautiful in her simplicity, but mighty in spirit, for she was a powerful sorceress. When she unfolded her magic, brilliant lightning danced in her raven hair and her green eyes lighted as the north stars in the eastern night. Usually though, the preferred singing merry songs instead of spells.

The night before they met was a normal one in their immortal lives. He bade his father goodnight, discarded his golden crown of leaves and closed his eyes in bed, smiling. She watched from her balcony her brother playing with the children of the streets before closing the silken curtains, so that the warm wind could still penetrate her palace room. Then she went to sleep and entered the dream.

And there he was already.

She didn't feel any fear when she curiously examined him, only a faint contiguity of destiny. Without saying a word, they stepped towards each other. The air sizzled as their lips touched. Far away three thunderclaps echoed, while the sun and the moon sealed their plight simultaneously.

For a long time, they lingered there, living, and yet untouchable, while their bodies were lost in a deep slumber. Then, they felt the time of farewell approaching. He took her face in his tender hands.

"In one year, we'll meet again," he spoke, and she nodded.

"By the Western Well in the Desert," she answered, and she gave him her necklace, that would lead him the way to the oasis. Anew, three thunderclaps echoed, and they woke.

It took half a year before the prince was reminded of his promise. He was reading a book on his chamber, while outside a summer rain sprinkled the plants with his nutritive moisture, when suddenly a white light started beaming beneath his green tunic. Wonder-stricken, the prince held the necklace before his eyes and saw that the light indicated East. Promptly, he saddled his horse, bade his father goodbye and quit his kingdom.

Many weeks and many miles later, the prince noticed in the distance green palm trees that seemed to challenge the sky. Obediently, his faithful horse ran the last miles, until his snow-white fur aged beneath the shadow of the plants. Before them, some inches lower, a crystal clear lake extended. And across leaned a slender figure against a trunk, singing a merry song.

And thus, they met again.

For seven days, they lived secluded between the crystal and emerald wealth, drunk of happiness and love. Until envoys of both realms – the Eastern and the Western – found their prince and sorceress again. They begged the two lovers to return to their homes. But great was their love, and they would not be parted.

Therefore, three warriors of the prince and three brothers of the sorceress came to the oasis to start the construction of a palace. The brothers changed with their magic the sands of the desert in brightly colored marble, shiny silver and gleaming gold, that was shaved in magnificent forms by the three warriors, while the sorceress was weaving soft tapestries and the prince was crafting prodigious furniture. And as the sun went to sleep, they ceased their joyful labor to feast. For hours they danced around the fire, drank sweet wine and enjoyed each others presence, until sleep took them and the stars spread their silvery blankets.

After five summers, the palace was finished. It had become a jewel of the desert, a glittering bolt upon the gate between the East and the West. Therefore, she was named the Diamond of the Sands, and during many ages, the prince and the sorceress resided there, undisturbed in their peace.

And from them, the folk of the Nymphs was created, honored beings among the people of the desert, for the men were magnanimous and valiant, wise kings with golden hairs, and the woman were powerful in the art of magic, enchanting as birds of the rainbow, with clear voices and hearts full of compassion and love. They quitted the Diamond of the Sands. Some of them went to the heavens to gleam as stars, showing the way to lost and weary travelers. Others descended to the rivers and pools, and gifted Men with coolness and tranquility. And a handful of the descendants of the prince and the sorceress, the noblest of their children, took upon them the lesser semblance of their people to spread hope and wisdom between the earthy folks.

However, the prince and the sorceress disappeared, and the poets and adventurers who searched their traces, couldn't find anything but a deserted ruin, burning in the heath of the sun.

And a bow. In the ebony were words and spells written, providing a pool of wisdom for those who could read them with an open heart and mind. It gave insight to those who wielded it, whether that person was in war or in love. And it is said that this weapon possessed both the strength and wisdom of the prince, and the elegance and compassion of the sorceress, and that its aim would never fail its owner.

The bow passed on from the youngest son of the lovers to his son, and then to his son, and so on, until it was gifted to one particular elf, sun of the last daughter from the House of the Sands and the king of the Woodland Realm. And with him, it would depart from these mortal countries, in company of an axe, and pass beyond the borders of this world, where it would be given back to the prince and the sorceress.

And thus, the circle was sealed.

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