Olórin is a delighted guinea pig! He has acquired a hat that he thinks is wizardly and wants to know if Bella agrees.

Yes, that is definitely a wizardly hat.

And he is definitely a wizard! He casts spells for as long as Bella needs them.

Bella needs them until she runs out of divinations! There's a lot of combinations to go and they will not run out today.

He's absurdly excited even by the ones with no result, and again disappointed at the lack of accidental explosions. Explosions would be fun.

"We will probably get an explosion result eventually."

"And then Lórien will say to me, 'Olórin, go be a Maia of Aulë', and I will say 'what? no! it was an accident! I like healing things!' Which I do. One just has to occasionally try other things, or become very stifled."

"I do hope to invent arcane healing eventually! The spell that does stuff to undead will probably wind up being important, undead are healed by an energy that hurts everything else and harmed by an energy that heals everything else. This is totally healing research. Among other things. Eventually."

"Ah! There we go. The fact you're doing something dangerous and might need patching up is more than sufficient justification for you to be here, don't worry."

"Well, that and this is the only place I can teleport to. So far."

"We don't generally want teleportation everywhere, there are lots of areas where a great deal of foot traffic would disturb delicate plants and we manage that by making it sufficiently inconvenient to get there that only people who really desire to go will do it, and therefore the wear on the land is managed while no one is forbidden from anything."

"...So should I not reinvent teleport spells?"

"When you're particularly close, perhaps we can draw a council and talk about it; I'm not sure the best solution is one that comes to mind immediately, but we can simply make some areas off-limits to it, which we might do anyway because people desire privacy in their houses and so forth."

"I will aim to invent flight first," she says. "That should have fewer problems and serve most of the desiderata."

"Oh, splendid! Yes, everyone should fly. Do we get wings?"

"No. I mean not with the conventional flight spell, a polymorph could do that but if I remember right that's harder."

"All right, dear. Well, you do what comes to mind and we'll figure out how to manage complications as they arise."

"Thanks for all your help!"

"A pleasure!" he says cheerily.

And she flavors and picks fruits and brings them to the courtyard.

Fëanáro's fast-writer has been disassembled to let it write in the new alphabet for Quenya. He is working diligently.

Bella puts some fruit near him.

I don't want to talk, I'm working.

I didn't say anything. She strolls past him to go check on her houseplot.

It now looks remarkably like a house! There's a Maia - she doesn't know which, but is starting to piece together how you can identify one - helping move the stone.