Flags still fly in the Gladden Fields.

Long ago there were many proud men, bearing standards of black and silver.  They trampled the grass.  When they fell the fields ran red, before the rain and river could wash them clean.  But fields forget of what bones they’re made and grass grows long.

Now flags fly again in the Gladden Fields.

This story was inspired by this incongrous line from the entry for “Gladden Fields” in Robert Foster’s The Complete Guide to Middle Earth:

“Many irises grew in the Gladden Fields.”

If I ever knew this I’d forgot it, but remembered instead that the more ‘common’ name for Iris is ‘Flag’.

Where I live, they are in bloom as I write this; a peacenik drabble.

PS:  The A/N has more words than the drabble!