His calloused hands caressed the wall before him, fingertips brushing lovingly over gem and ore, delicately exploring creases, curves and edges.
His eyes drank in the beauty, the perfection, of this place. Colorful veins painted a map across the dark stone. Above him and around him, mineral columns glittered in yellow, pink and white.
He pressed his hands flat to the cool surface, bits of quartz digging into his palms, and he could feel the whole world pressing back--every mountain, every hill, every stone.
Within this glittering temple, within the living rock, Gimli son of Gloin touched Aulë himself.