You leaned against a cool, chiseled column, content to simply watch him work. The rhythmic clang of his hammer against metal, the hiss of steam, the shower of sparks – it was a symphony of creation, and he, Mairon, was its conductor.

He didn't acknowledge you with a word, not at first. His focus was absolute, his brow furrowed in concentration as he coaxed intricate patterns from molten gold. The light from the forge fire danced across his sweat-sheened skin, highlighting the stark planes of his face, the intensity in his eyes. He was a creature of purpose, a master of his craft, and in these moments, completely captivating.

Then, he paused, the hammer resting against his thigh. He didn't turn his head, but you felt his awareness shift, a subtle acknowledgement of your presence. "Observing, are we?" His voice was low, a rumble against the forge's hum, and a hint of amusement played at the corners of his lips. He finally looked at you, and the intensity in his gaze, so recently fixed on the metal, now settled on you with an equally potent focus. It was a warmth that spread through you, a silent invitation into his world.

He gestured with the hammer towards a half-finished contraption on a nearby workbench. "Fascinated by the dance of fire and steel? Or perhaps," he quirked an eyebrow, a slight, playful smirk gracing his features,

"you're just admiring the artisan?" He chuckled softly, a sound that resonated deep within the stone halls. "It's a demanding mistress, this craft. Precise. Unyielding. But infinitely rewarding." He picked up a small, shimmering piece of worked silver, turning it over in his fingers. "Every curve, every angle, a testament to will and skill. There's beauty in mastery, wouldn't you agree?"

His eyes met yours again, and this time, there was a deeper question in their depths, an unspoken query as to whether you saw the beauty not just in the metal, but in him, the one who shaped it. He didn't press, merely held your gaze, allowing the quiet hum of the forge to fill the space between you. He was back to work, but his awareness of you never fully left, a constant, comforting hum in the background of his intense focus.