Disclaimer: I own nothing of Tolkien's.
This is bookverse.
The torch flares brightly, reflected in the thousand faces of the many, many treasures lying under the mountain. Gold, silver, mithril, jewels. But he cannot find what he is looking for.
The Arkenstone. It "shone like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon"*, as he had described it earlier. Indeed it was that to the Dwarves. More, even. It had become a symbol of hope, of wealth, of prosperity.
Nothing more did he want now, than to gaze upon its splendor. The beauty of the Arkenstone was beyond that of anything else in this great hoard. If only he could see it, for the first time in many long years. Too long has it been.
"Thorin?" He turns. Bilbo is standing there, a few feet away, looking anxious. "Are you all right?"
He does not answer at first. Instead, he turns and looks back at the mountains of treasure. How can they find it in all of this? But he will find it eventually, he is sure of that.
He turns back to Bilbo. "Yes, I am fine."
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*The quote is from page 208 of The Hobbit, Houghton Mifflin version.