Written for Febobe for her birthday.

DISCLAIMER: The Professor’s wonderful characters don’t belong to me; I just get to think about them day and night.
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A Sense of Wonder

“It’s a top,” Frodo said.

“Top of what?” Pippin asked. He peered curiously at the small, strangely-shaped wooden item in his cousin’s hand.

“Just a top.”

“Top of--”

“It’s a top, a toy!” Frodo explained. “It’s from a chest that Elladan said belonged to Aragorn when he was a boy. Here, look.” He sat on the ground, and Pippin joined him. “It spins, see?” Frodo rested the top’s wooden point on the floor next to him, then used two fingers to give the spindle a quick turn.

“What’s that sound?” Pippin asked, bending closer to the spinning toy.

“Elladan said that was the hardest part of the carving. Tiny holes bored into it at certain intervals catch the air and make a whistling sound.”

Pippin smiled as the top slowed, then toppled onto one side. “Very clever. I like it.”

“Then you may consider it yours,” said a warm, rich voice from behind them.

“Strider!” Pippin’s ears reddened in embarrassment, but Frodo merely smiled up at their friend.

“Elladan said that this was one of your favorite toys.”

“That is true. He and Elrohir carved many playthings for me.” Aragorn said. He sat down between the two hobbits and picked up the top, his eyes growing soft with memory. “It has been a very long time since I last saw this.” He placed it back on the floor, and gave it another spin.

“It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?” Frodo marveled. As the top spun, its brightly-painted stripes created a delightful pattern.

Pippin had been about to insist that Strider keep the little toy, which he obviously still treasured, when he noticed the uninhibited joy and childlike wonder in his cousin’s bright eyes. Frodo’s delight with the whirling design and colors, and its sweet whistling sound, made him determined take it on their journey, and take it out at such a time when his cousin’s spirits might be low.

“I hope you don’t mind that Elladan showed me that chest,” Frodo said to Aragorn. “It’s full of the most wonderful things!”

“I am glad he did.”

A distant bell rang, and Frodo scrambled to his feet.

“I had no idea it was so late! Bilbo will be waiting for me to accompany him to luncheon. Are you coming, Pip?”

“I’ll be there soon.” After Frodo had gone, Pippin picked up the top and looked up at Aragorn. “Thank you, Strider. Do you suppose… are there are a few more things like this that you can spare?”

“For Frodo?” Aragorn asked softly.

“Well, yes. And maybe something for Merry, and for Sam?” Pippin asked hopefully. “Nothing very big, of course, if they’re to fit in my pack.”

“We will see what small treasures we can find,” Aragorn said, with one of his rare smiles.

“After luncheon, of course.”

“Of course. Pippin, I cannot guarantee that the rest of my playthings are still in such good shape.”

“All that is gold does not glitter,” Pippin reminded him teasingly, and Aragorn laughed.

“Indeed, my friend,” he agreed. “That is very true.”