It was a tradition to present a gift made with your own hands to a lass if she caught your fancy. That way, she could judge your craftsmanship along with your manners. And if she liked what she saw, both in the work and the dwarf who stood before her trembling in his boots, she may just acquiesce to a walk in a quiet shaft.
He waited nervously, gazing at her with a reverence most often reserved for a rich vein of ore, while she examined his jewel.
"Thank you, Glóin," she said, smiling at him. "I'd love a walk."
