Disclaimer: Tolkien knew about dusty schoolrooms, maybe he’d recognise this one. It’s all his.
Dust motes sparkled, drifting in slow eddies; the schoolroom’s air seemed dry and lifeless. Faramir tried to pay attention to the librarian, brought from his shelf-lined rooms to unroll crackling parchments and intone the Hurinion’s history. He’d started with Grandfather, working backwards. Faramir’s eyes slid closed again; he wished he was outside riding with Boromir and his amah.
The voice creaked on... “...and the Elves of Lothlorien...” Faramir jerked awake. Elves? Elves! The librarian continued to enumerate the members of the Last Alliance; suddenly the very air enlivened as history became exciting for a seven year-old who dearly loved legend.