Tagaera, but keep the book within reach

Elves and dwarves do not mingle. Not usually, anyway. But you have no time to waste and she's certainly the one option that can get you a Celestium-Anchor with the least amount of suspicion involved. If you can convince her. Lying would be a very dangerous prospect with her. Someone who is not a registered arcanist asking for that sort of item is looking for trouble. So you will have to make it worth her while. The book chained to a belt hidden under the flow of your robes' layers, you make your way to the forges.
They've been built as one of the earliest structures of the academy, but have seen surprisingly little use before she arrived to take up the hammer. Since then, the foundries do not go a day without churning out new armaments, tried and true and experimental in equal measures.

Once more you are not like your kin. You do not look down on the dwarven kind. You see their strength, their determination and their craftsmanship. When you set your foot into the cellar structures, where the heat dwells and the forgeflame is the only source of light all around, you are struck with awe. Drenched in sweat and scars, a half-naked woman covered only by apron and protective gear beats the iron of the earth into submission, creating shapes of strength and beauty. Her curves are like the smile of the moon, full and inviting, an icon of power and fertility. A mother's body, yet you have not known her to hold family, no husband or wife, no children to be heard of. A devious part of your lustful soul wouldn't mind attempting to change that.

She does not look up from her work, punctuating her sentences with the beats of her hammer as she speaks: "Rare to get visitors. Doubly, if it's an elf."
Smiling to herself she hammers away at her work. Struck with the primal beauty of her deeds, you fail to say something, giving her an opportunity to make the first move. "Listen, Lad. I don't care why you're here. Get on with it or piss off, will you? I'm busy. Besides. I don't do commissioned work. Not anymore. Not for students."

Straight to the point, focused, pragmatic. If only more people could be as reliable as she is. Perhaps these negotiations will go better than you anticipated. At least you won't have to dance around the reason of why you're here for long. You say something that is sure to get her attention: "Celestium. An Anchor to be precise. I need it, and you can make it. Which cannot be said of anyone else here as far as I know."

She cares little for flattery, but she does slow the rhythm of her hammer as you bring up the Celestium. "You're either very brave, or very very dumb. If you know what an anchor like that is and does, you would know those things ain't for sale. Not to you anyway." Some part of her seems to appreciate the daring nature of your request, the slightest hint of a smile sneaking to her freckled features. She keeps up with her work on the anvil in front of her, some unimportant bladework. She doesn't send you away, and she has not outright said "No." That's a start.

You seem to have her attention, now to keep it.