There shouldn't have been anything living at the very peak of Erebor, which made the hopping, dancing figure of Gollum stand out like a sore thumb.
Smaug glided down and landed beside the wretched creature. Gollum, driven by weeks of obsession, showed no fear. He scrambled toward the dragon's snout the moment the wind from his wings died down.
"Precious! Precious! Master Smaug is finally back!"
"We has been waiting! Waiting until we is nearly dead!"
"Exalted Smaug, please... let us see it again. Just a peek. We begs you!"
Smaug looked at the wooden chests nearby. He sensed the energy of the gold—it wasn't from his own mountain. "Gollum, where did this yellow metal come from?"
"Gold! Gold!" Gollum remembered his "business deal." "Gollum knows the Master loves the yellow metals, so Gollum found these for you! We wants to trade! Trade for the Precious!"
There was a significant amount of gold in those chests. Smaug realized these were the abandoned spoils of Azog. He decided to have a little fun. He stepped over to the chests.
System Storage: Withdraw.
In a blink, the chests vanished.
Gollum's jaw dropped. His eyes bulged so far they looked ready to pop out of his skull. "Wh-where? Where is the yellow metals? Our gold! Where did it go?!"
Smaug turned back to him, his voice smooth and mocking. "Gold? What are you talking about, Gollum? There's no gold here."
"?????"
"You're hallucinating," Smaug added with a toothy grin. "You've been out in the sun too long."
Gollum's head began to tilt and twitch. The voices in his mind erupted into a cacophony of confusion. Did we dream it? But we killed the Orcses! No... the Master says it is gone... are we crazy? Gollum! Gollum!
Seeing that the creature was about to actually break, Smaug decided that was enough "refining" for one day. He reached into his storage and produced the One Ring, held tightly in his claw.
"Here, Gollum. Since you've been such a good sentry. A look at your Precious."
The effect was instantaneous. Gollum was pulled back from the brink of a total breakdown. His eyes locked onto the gold band with a terrifying intensity. "My... Precious..."
He crept closer, his spindly fingers trembling. Smaug allowed him a single, fleeting touch.
The Flare in Mordor
In the land of shadow, the spirit of Sauron convulsed.
For the second time, the Ring had "blinked" on his map. He spun his malice toward the North, straining to lock onto the signal, but as soon as Gollum's finger left the metal, the link vanished.
Sauron wanted to scream. He felt mocked. To the Dark Lord, it felt as though the Universe itself was teasing him—showing him his soul and then snatching it away.
Back at the peak, Gollum felt the same way. His eyes flashed with a murderous light for a split second, a primal urge to bite the dragon's claw off to get his prize.
"Easy now," Smaug rumbled. "I've granted your request. Now, tell me... what happened while I was away?"
Gollum blinked, the red haze fading. He recounted the arrival of the "White Orc," the boulders he threw, and the "Great Bear" who chased the intruders away.
Smaug chuckled. Sauron and Azog... what a couple of losers.
"Very well. I'm going back to sleep. You're coming down with me?"
"Yes," Gollum agreed instantly. "Where the Master goes, we follows."
Smaug returned to his hoard and drifted into a nap. Gollum, per Smaug's orders, curled up behind the Great Gate to resume his role as the world's most overqualified bouncer. Later that day, Bard and Thranduil came to check on the commotion.
"The King is sleeping," Gollum hissed from the shadows of the entrance. "He knows what happened. He says: Don't worry about it. Now go away!"
The Lord and the King exchanged a look, shrugged, and went back to their business. Peace returned to the Mountain.
Orthanc
Saruman the White was anything but peaceful.
After days of brooding, analyzing, and convincing himself that he was the only one who truly understood the threat, he finally descended from his tower.
"It will be fine," he muttered as he mounted his white horse.
Saruman didn't head straight for Dol Guldur. Instead, he detoured into the Great Green Forest to find Radagast the Brown.
His plan was a masterpiece of "Insurance." He would convince the simple-minded Radagast to accompany him. If something went wrong in the Necromancer's lair, Saruman only needed to be faster than a man who rode a sled pulled by rabbits.
He found Radagast fussing over a sick hedgehog.
"Radagast, my old friend," Saruman said, offering a practiced, grandfatherly smile. "It is good to see you well."
Radagast blinked in confusion. Saruman rarely visited, and when he did, he was usually insulting. "Saruman? What... what brings you to the mud?"
"In Rivendell, Gandalf spoke of your discoveries in Dol Guldur," Saruman lied smoothly. "I have been troubled by them. I have decided that I must see this 'Necromancer' for myself."
Radagast's eyes lit up. "Oh! Thank the stars! There is a darkness there, Saruman. A pure, rotting darkness. It's making the forest ill."
"Indeed," Saruman nodded. "Then lead the way, friend. Let us go to Dol Guldur and see who this 'Sorcerer' truly is."