The Green Dragon was louder than it had been in years. Laughter filled the inn, mugs clattered, and hobbits celebrated as though hard times had finally loosened their grip on the Shire. Meriadoc Brandybuck sat with a tankard in hand, grinning as Pippin spun another wildly exaggerated tale for the crowd.

Merry laughed along, though part of him remained restless. Home was unchanged, but he wasn't. He'd ridden with kings, crossed battlefields, and returned carrying memories the Shire could scarcely imagine.

As the door opened to admit another guest, Merry signaled for a fresh ale and turned with a familiar spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Care for a drink?” he asked, raising his mug. “Though fair warning—sit here long enough and you'll end up caught in one of our stories. Between Pippin and me, you'll never know what's true.”