The Merchant of Valinor by Tehta

Parma (book)

Parchment and quills–the Grey-elves sold such things cheaply, and I would offer them for free to the pitiful host of Fingolfin. All I asked in return was that the recipients of my charity try to write some tales worth reading, and not too full of grief, nostalgia, or other forms of sadness. Rousing tales were the best. My bored Fëanárian neighbours would barter for them eagerly, and their surplus food and clothing would delight my half-starved, bedraggled authors.

Anyway, before you accuse me of showing kindness to my sworn enemies, answer me this: what else was I supposed to do while the leaderless Fëanárians lingered at the lakeshore, trade with the Orcs in the hills?