Hours of search had yielded nothing. They'd found armor, glorious works of woven steel and gilded plate, and weapons enough to make even Fíli balk at their numbers. Yet knowing their true errand, if not the reason for the façade, the company continued their to comb through the dunes of gold for the jewel of Thrór.

On his own, Thorin wandered further afield from the searching company. There was some relief in it, to have distance and breathing space after days of huddling cheek-by-jowl in the dark. He had always been more comfortable in solitude, a necessity that the quest for Erebor had turned into a luxury. On the one hand, they should stay together lest Smaug returned to spring upon them unawares. On the other, being clustered together as one target would do little good against such a foe, so he settled for keeping a corner of his senses sharp and prepared for an attack. Meanwhile, Thorin's mind wandered along with his feet, taking in the wonders around him.

It was almost too much to behold, any single item being worthy of a place of honor in its own collection. Yet tumbled together it was only Thorin's sharp eyes and long skill in working metal that told him of the delicate masterwork that had gone into this fallen necklace, or that upended cauldron. It was dizzying, even though he'd once been prince of this kingdom the many years of want and hardship upon the road, and the relatively modest wealth of Ered Luin, left him as dazzled as those who had never known Erebors's riches.

A small corner of his mind that spoke with Bilbo's voice wondered if this was gold sickness. He still could not account for minutes lost between breaking out of the tunnel and realizing he was in the treasury. Why had his lip bled, and for what reason had Bilbo looked on him with such worry? The moment held only blackout, and though observed from afar, he had never asked Thrór the symptoms of his illness. None would have dared, for to even call it an illness would have been to invite the king's anger. So Thorin could only watch, but never know if the signs were within himself, how the earliest notes of that siren song would sound in his own mind.

What if this was it?

Thorin froze, coins pinging and tumbling against one another as he shifted on his feet. He looked wild-eyed back over the hoard. The rest of the company looked as no more than ants far below him. He felt lightheaded as if he'd drunk elven wine and he pressed a hand to his forehead, shadowing his face against the glow that came off the gold. A stone pillar rose like a tree from the piles of coins and he stumbled against it, bracing himself against the solid carven rock. The stone scraped against his palm, dispersing some of the haze upon his mind, and casting one look over his shoulder at the company, he ducked into its shadow.

A startled yelp greeted him and Thorin nearly jumped out of his own skin as Bilbo popped back into sight, his little golden ring clutched in one hand. Thorin was almost atop him, the hobbit must have been hiding in the shadows, which meant—

"You have been following me," Thorin said blankly.

"No! Absolutely not…I—that is, it's not exactly that, it's, well, err…" At Thorin's continued stare Bilbo seemed to recover some composure. "Yes. Yes that's exactly what I've been doing." Bilbo straightened his shoulders, looking defiantly up at Thorin. "It should go without saying that I'm worried about you, Thorin. You've wandered so far away that I doubt anyone could hear you if something happened. I know it may be imposing, but you did ask me to keep an eye on you if we ever made it into Erebor. And I must say I'm rather put out with all of this, not to mention worried quite out of my mind by the fact that all of you seem to have gone mad with this treasure when there's a bloody great dragon that could come back here at any minute. I can't keep an eye on all of you at once, not even with Fíli and Kíli's help, and then you go wandering off into the middle of it all when we should be trying to get out of here and, really Thorin, I—"

Bilbo's tirade cut off with a squawk as Thorin's lips closed over his, capturing his words and his breath. At first he seemed too stunned to do anything, but then Thorin brought his hands up to cup Bilbo's face and the hobbit melted against him. Thorin kissed him hungrily, pressing Bilbo against the pillar, and Bilbo sighed against him, but it seemed more a sigh of relief than of desire. He fisted Thorin's coat in his hands, pulling him closer.

"Would it be too much to hope that this was your plan all along?" Bilbo murmured against Thorin's lips.

Thorin does not answer, instead scraping his teeth against Bilbo's lower lips. The image was tantalizing, as yet again Bilbo presented him with a better world than the one he knew. Would that it were true, that he had wandered off for this very purpose, smiling to himself as he heard the light tread of Bilbo's feet on the coins behind him. That he'd led his hobbit on this merry chase deliberately, stealing away for a few minutes of well-deserved privacy, finally springing upon him once they were far enough away, pressing him against the stone and making love to him as he'd only dreamt these past days.

It was not true, and he could not bring himself to voice the lie, but like many things when it came to Bilbo, he wished to make it true. To allow this to be a secret tryst in the halls of his recovered home. Here, finally, he could offer the proposal he'd been too cautious to make in Lake-town. Did they not have the mountain in every meaningful sense? Even if they did not, could he not let go for a moment and pretend it was so and allow the flight of fancy, just as Bilbo had urged him to? The image was tantalizing, and his blood burned hot as he pressed home his advantage, moving his hands from Bilbo's face to his shoulders beneath his oversized blue coat. It fell from Bilbo's shoulders, so large that it slipped off easily, and fell to the ground in a heap. The fabric must have been heavier than Thorin remembered because there was an audible thump as it struck the coins and Bilbo gave a sharp intake of breath.

"T-Thorin! You can't—we're in public, what if someone sees us? Or hears us?" Bilbo said. A spike of alarm had gone through Bilbo, and Thorin could feel him tense beneath his hands. He found it odd, for Bilbo had already kissed him once in public before, and they were so far from the company as to be invisible to them.

A devilish thought occurred to him, though, of giving Bilbo a reason for his bashfulness. Thorin forgot the strange heaviness of the coat as he smirked against Bilbo's lips, and drew away long enough to whisper, "Then we must try to be silent." His hand slipped lower, snaking beneath the mithril shirt, his fingers gripping the cool skin of Bilbo's hip, tracing lower.

"I'm not going to strip here in the middle of the treasury!" Bilbo hissed, his hand closing over Thorin's.

"Who said anything about stripping?" Thorin said, his hand traveling lower beneath waistband of Bilbo's trousers. He hesitated there, meeting Bilbo's gaze for confirmation. Bilbo stared at him, then let his head fall back against the pillar.

"I must be utterly mad to agree to this," Bilbo said, closing his eyes. At Thorin's continued hesitation he opened them again and gave a sharp nod. "Oh, alright, but if you think for a second this is going to be a one-side affair then you are sadly mista-nnghn."

Thorin's hand closed around Bilbo's cock and found him already stirring with interest that only grew stronger as Thorin captured Bilbo's mouth once against. He kissed deeper this time while his hand stroked Bilbo's length. He'd only just found a rhythm, matching the speed of his hand to the tremors running through Bilbo's body, when he felt Bilbo fumbling with at his own belt. Bilbo must have gained some experience with the mechanism, for it came away quickly and before Thorin knew it Bilbo had his own hand down Thorin's trousers.

All thought blanked from his mind to feel those clever fingers close around him. His blood was afire and he pressed his full body against Bilbo, striving to keep his rhythm steady even as the jolts of pleasure raced along his nerves at each stroke of Bilbo's hand on him. Bilbo was whimpering into his mouth, but quietly, as he'd promised, and they were shielded from sight by the pillar. The bewilderment of the treasure gave way to another kind, aided by the scrape of teeth and lips, of hot breath, rumbling moans and whispered endearments that were all but nonsense. It was just the two of them and lust burning red in Thorin's veins, heady desire that choked away all thought. For the moment it was enough, and he wanted it to be enough forever, with no sickness to fear or Arkenstone to find.

Bilbo shifted, his breath whispering against Thorin's cheek as he tilted his head lower, tracing his lips along Thorin's neck. The kisses were gentle, but set against the counterpoint of his fingers wrapped around Thorin's cock, working its length, it was enough to make Thorin's toes curl and he gasped, his hand going lax for a moment around Bilbo as he opened his eyes. Bilbo's face was hidden by his curls as he peppered kiss against the sensitive skin of Thorin's neck. Then he allowed the slightest scrape of teeth at the pulse of his throat and Thorin groaned, biting his lip and looking away—

To the gold. It cast the light back upon them a thousand times. It filled Thorin's vision, as unending as the sea, piles and heaps of treasure, jewels and coins as far as the eye could see. Its light entrancing, the shine and flicker a drug pervading his senses, calling to him with its promise. He could feel it on his hands and beneath his feet, the trickle of precious gems through his fingers, the metal shaping itself to his will beneath his hand. Filling his vision, surrounding him, swallowing him—

Thorin had only a second to suck in a breath and he was coming, hard. His orgasm was sudden, like a hammer-blow it knocked the air from his lungs, and he swore as it rocked him and his cock throbbed as he spilled, his vision blacking, unable to breathe or speak or do anything but give a long, low groan that he only prevented from becoming louder by biting down on his own lip. Thorin could not even feel Bilbo's hand around him, or feel his lips on his throat, for his vision was consumed by an endless sea of gold and the combination of the three had turned his body to living flame, tingling and numb and whiting all thought from his mind. He came apart, his knees shuddering beneath him, numbing, constricting and relaxing each of his muscles at once.

Thorin sagged, nearly falling against Bilbo as the aftershock rocked him with a shudder. He felt boneless, his body limp from the force of it. He blinked as the haze began to clear somewhat and the heat in his veins cooled.

"My goodness, what brought that on?" Bilbo chuckled against Thorin's throat. "Something on your mind? I'm quite sure that couldn't have all been me."

Thorin's eyes opened and cold washed through him, followed swiftly by nausea. Bilbo's skin was still hot beneath him, his lover not yet even close to coming himself, and Thorin's mind had been a thousand miles away. Dwelling on gold beneath his hands, sparkling gems while Bilbo, warm and alive and writhing with need against him, had fallen utterly from his mind in the crashing wave of lust that had dragged him down into the hardest orgasm of his life.

He thought he would be sick.

"Thorin, is something wrong?" Bilbo said. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes glassy, but as he spoke they filled with concern and Thorin could feel the edge of Bilbo's desire flagging as his needs went untended to. "You've gone white as a sheet." Thorin stared at him, then pushed the nausea away.

"Let me repay you," he said, and if there was a growl in his voice it was because fear made his voice hoarse. He wished it were otherwise, that it was lust. He wanted that heat back, but at the very least he might try to bring it back for Bilbo.

"Is this supposed to be for Lake-town? It's really not necessary, especially if you're not feeling well I—oh," Bilbo was cut off as Thorin's hand worked at the laces of his trousers, kissing at his throat in return and a little of the heat came back with it. Not for Lake-town, Thorin would say if he dared. He wantedf to repay Bilbo for coming after him, for looking for him, and following him out here. For trying to catch him while he fell. For noticing that he was falling. He closed his eyes but could still see the gold there as he went down on his knees and took Bilbo in his mouth.

Bilbo's fingers twined through the thick fall of Thorin's hair and he leaned back against the pillar, his breath coming out in a fluttering gasp and his knees sagged as Thorin began to work him. Thorin tasted metal, and the saltiness of precome, but the sight of gold behind his eyelids was fading in the taste of his lover and the delicious tug at his scalp as Bilbo's hand closed convulsively. Thorin lost himself, his fingers digging into Bilbo's hip as he concentrated, listening to Bilbo whimper at the back of his throat, at the taste and smell and touch, in the ragged breaths that grew deeper with each flick of Thorin's tongue.

"You don't have to, I—oh my. Please… please don't stop, don't stop…" Bilbo's words came out in a slurred rush, and it banished the last of the cold from Thorin's veins as he gave in to his lover's demands, working the base with his hand and the length with his lips and tongue. Bilbo's hand spasmed in Thorin's hair and he matched that rhythm only to be rewarded with a deeper, gasping moan and Bilbo biting down on the knuckles of his free hand as he trembled beneath Thorin's touch.

Thorin pulled back enough to flick his tongue over the tip before swallowing deep again and that was the final straw for Bilbo, who came apart with a shout muffled only by his hand. Bilbo twitched and shuddered beneath him, and Thorin wished this could be enough to banish the rest. Let them be back in Lake-town, let the door have never opened and this be one of many nights where all that mattered was pleasuring Bilbo. Or let them be far away in Bilbo's home and all this long forgotten.

But it wasn't, and he was no master of imagining what could not be. As the echoes of lust faded and Bilbo sagged against the pillar, his breathing returning to steady normalcy, Thorin released him. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and closing his eyes. The present would not be banished by such simple means.

"No need for that, I have a handkerchief here somewhere," Bilbo murmured, his eyelids fluttering as he came back to the world, patting at his pockets until he found what he was seeking and handed one of a few handkerchiefs to Thorin. Thorin cleaned his mouth first, his thoughts far away as Bilbo continued to speak, his voice losing some of the breathiness of earlier. "My goodness, I haven't done anything like this for years, I feel like a tween again sneaking out behind the barn. Though I'm certainly not complaining. I'm only surprised that you planned something like this despite, well, you know. I suppose my fears were misplaced."

"They were not," Thorin said, as shame flooded him at Bilbo's words. But he was no coward, nor was he a liar, and the charade had gone on long enough. "I was not attempting to lead you here for a tryst, Bilbo. I was searching for the Arkenstone."

"What?"

Thorin looked away, unable to meet Bilbo's eye. He picked the hobbit's coat up from the ground and handed it to him. Bilbo snatched it out of his hand, hugging the fabric to his chest as he stared at Thorin.

"All of the company is searching for it. I gave the order hours ago. I had to, you understand. If other dwarves, less trustworthy ones, were to find the stone after Erebor was reclaimed it could well lead to a war."

"Are you telling me," Bilbo said slowly, "that all this time we spent in the mountain, when we should have been trying to escape before Smaug returned, was because you were all looking for the Arkenstone? The very Arkenstone you asked me to keep away from you?"

"Now is our chance to find it and hide it away before it may cause any further discord," Thorin said, and heard the words ring hollow in his ears. "This is our best chance…"

"When were you going to tell me this?" Bilbo said, cutting him off.

Thorin stiffened, anger stirring beneath his shame. "I am telling you now, if you would cease to interrupt me while I explain."

"Explain what? Thorin, you told me—no, you begged me to keep the Arkenstone away from you. How on earth am I supposed to do that if you go looking for it?"

"This is not about me," Thorin retorted. "It is about the other dwarves. I did not realize the effect the treasure may have even on those who are not of my line. Now that we have Erebor, it is far too dangerous to leave unaccounted for."

"Have Erebor? Thorin, you have nothing. Smaug is still out there," Bilbo said, jabbing his finger towards the door. "All we have are our lives, which you're risking for a bauble."

"It is not a bauble," Thorin said. "You know nothing of it save what I have told you. You cannot possibly understand the risk it poses."

"I think I understand it quite well. I'm looking at it right now," Bilbo said.

"Then I rescind the order, and ask that you cease to question me and get down there with the others," Thorin snapped. "The sooner we find it, the sooner we may leave this place, as you wish."

"Never," Bilbo snapped right back at him. "I would rather see it buried than in your hands. This is madness, Thorin, and I will have no part of it. If you want me at all, I will be waiting by the door. You may join me there once you've returned to your senses." Bilbo turned on his heels, storming down the golden coins towards the exit of the treasury. He still held his coat clutched against his chest and his faces was very pale.

Thorin turned and with kicked at the coins beneath his feet with a snarl. Fury was like fire in his veins, but just as it spiked it was already fading and he covered his eyes with a broad hand as he cursed himself under his breath. What had possessed him to snap at Bilbo like that? The hobbit had done no more than he was asked, and could not be blamed for holding to his original orders.

Thorin knew he should apologize, and try to explain better the necessity of finding the jewel before they could leave. He was just about to follow after Bilbo, who was now a long ways down the dunes of gold, moving past the company who turned to look at him as he went, when something caught Thorin's eye. It arrested his attention, and he could no more look away than if it were indeed the Arkenstone for the sight of it was just as familiar.

Something that glinted of emerald.

Author Note: As promised, I'm trying to get these chapters out quick-and-dirty, so my apologies for any typos! Thank you for reading, i'd love to hear your thoughts so far.