Work Text:
Gold upon gold.
Mountains of it.
Mine.
All mine.
Every single coin.
Feels cold but warms to touch.
Like it knows me.
Knows its master.
It sings to me.
Whispers of betrayal.
Can't trust no one.
Not even my kin.
Not even…
Where is…it?
The Arkenstone.
Heart of the Mountain.
MY heart.
Someone has taken it.
Traitors walk among us.
But it’s all mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Protect. Hoard. Keep.
Who am I without this gold?
No matter.
The gold is me.
I am the gold.
We are one.
One.
My One.
Bilbo.
Burglar.
So small and light-footed.
Could steal right under my nose.
But those eyes... those wide honest eyes.
Cover him in treasure—my treasure—keep him close.
Where I can watch him.
Yes.
Would look splendid in gold, heavy so he cannot escape, he cannot betray.
Crowned with emeralds to match those eyes.
I call him and he comes trembling.
Good.
Should tremble before treasure.
Before me.
“Take it off. All of it. Now”.
He stutters.
Piece after piece falls to the ground until he stands bare before me.
White, almost translucent skin.
Finer, softer than pearl.
Freckles everywhere.
Gold flecks on a rock.
I want to bite, leave my mark on them.
The mithril shirt slides over his shoulders.
Slides down and down, until mid-thigh.
Still he trembles, can’t meet my eyes.
The mithril chains chime like silver raindrops falling upon a still lake.
Catching the light.
Beautiful.
My greatest treasure.
Ghivashel.
He shines brighter than any other gem in my hoard.
Need more.
Not enough.
Never enough.
He shivers.
Cold?
No.
Overwhelmed.
As he should be.
Need more adornments.
So he can’t leave.
Chain him in diamonds, if needs be.
Gold woven through his copper curls.
A heavy collar for his throat.
Bracelets.
Anklets.
Rings for each finger.
Marking every digit as thoroughly claimed as his body is to me.
Yes, he is bound to me now.
By the gold, shifting beneath us.
Our marriage bed.
The coins leave little red impressions on his creamy skin.
The gold is claiming him too.
I chase them away with my tongue.
His small prick is red like rubies, but warmer and sweeter.
I could die lapping it, feeling him writhe under me, begging to be taken.
I stack ring after ring on this last digit, until there isn’t room for a single more.
It bobs and quivers, straining against the weight of it all.
Only then I take my final claim.
The gold sings underneath us as I thrust and thrust.
His gasps and pleads get lost in the music of the sliding coins.
Faster.
Faster now.
Stars blooming behind eyelids.
Brighter than diamonds.
Expanding inside.
Exploding outward.
We tumble down and down in a slide of gold.
I lose myself and I lose him, but I pull us both safe aside.
Afterward.
Stillness.
Gold settles.
Cools underneath us.
Coins imprinted on our skin.
Both marked now.
Both claimed.
He sleeps.
Small and fragile among dragon's wealth.
My wealth.
My hobbit sleeping on my gold.
Something tugs.
Memory.
Before the gold.
Before the mountain.
In Bag End.
Offered loyalty then.
Freely given.
No matter.
Only gold matters.
My treasure.
He is mine.
He and I are One.
Under the beautiful light.
Glinting everywhere like stars.
The gold, and he, and I.