Legolas took a spot neither at the very front, nor at the very back, somewhere in the middle, so it would be a tiny bit easier to get lost in the sea of new faces, some nervous, some intimidated, others confident and anxious to begin the more exciting side of their stay here. He would still draw attention, he was sure of it, but perhaps not so easily or strongly if he tried not to stand out in any other way. His hair was braided neatly, kept out of the way so no one could complain about him keeping it so long as it was, and his ears were, for the most part, hidden beneath the strands. The tips, at least. It wasn't the most comfortable, mind, but over the many years that he had to keep doing this, he had grown used to it.

Legolas himself was calm, only allowing himself to show some earnest interest when the instructor entered the classroom. Yet when he caught the sight of the man's face, all that fell away. The amusement he felt, the neutrality he strove for, and he could only stare with his eyes barely kept from opening as wide as they could and his lips parted. The words barely reached him, though the voice was as familiar as the face, and it only made Legolas tense up all the more.

One after another the students stood and did as they were told, for the most part anyway. Some answers earned some mirthful giggles from the others, some others earned them groans. Legolas was not listening, distracted by thinking to himself just how was this possible at all, how— how was it so that one living in this age could bear resemblance so close to someone who had lived and died so long ago that no memory, no recounting remained. He thought how cruel it was as well, for him to have to sit here now and be reminded now of memories so, so very painful by this stranger. How his heart ached, the pain raw and all encompassing, and Legolas had to close his eyes and take a steadying breath against the wildly beating heart in his breast.

It was silence that alerted him that something was wrong, silence and the feeling of eyes on him. Legolas opened his eyes to the class staring at him, some with vaguely dubious expressions, others amused by his apparent utter lack of reaction when it was his turn to speak. Yet the look that flustered him the most was the look from Captain Turnis. It held the same fire to it, the same strength, as the look of a friend of the old, and Legolas felt his skin heat up with embarrassment.

How shameful! He was older than all those children combined, including the Boromir lookalike, yet he was still as prone to blushing.

A second, two, and he gathered his wits, standing up resolutely again and letting a smile bloom on his face in spite of the fluster. "Stage fright, I think it can happen to anybody!" He quipped, standing straight and proud. "My name is Legolas Greenwood," or at least that's what his current documents said, and though lying still did not exactly please him, there was nothing for it but to let them spill as smoothly as any truth, for his own safety. "I am twenty-two, and I have lived all my life in Greenwich, London—," he grinned, "As for where I am headed? To see the world, and give aid where it is needed! Be it by fighting for those who cannot, or protecting them." Cheesy, but he had a role to play here, and this role was of a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed youth, ready to take on the world and all its evils, idealistic to a fault and perhaps to be scoffed at. Not that it ran so far from his normal ideals and personality. "No better way to achieve that than by joining the military, I thought!"

Ticktock, ticktock, seconds passed, but four minutes had not. Legolas was done speaking, however.

For Legolas, it was the strangest day of all, and he had lived through many. So very many. It was not only the voice that pulled on the strings of his heart, not only the face, but more and more, the demeanour, the attitude, and he would even risk to bet that personality would not be far off either. It was Boromir in flesh, if not in name, if not... with the same memories Legolas had of him. His gaze followed the man whenever possible, discreetly, making sure he was not noticed by anyone, most of all Captain Turnis.

Some of his classmates, though, were more observant than he would ever give them credit for. Another lesson for him not to underestimate others so much, or perhaps also not to overestimate his own ability, especially so when he was already so, so very frazzled to begin with. It shook him, clearly, and then it shocked him when he was approached by another classmate during lunch about his apparent crush on their instructor! In his shock and surprise, somehow Legolas doubted he managed to dispel that silly notion. A wide eyed stare, delayed denial, but at least he didn't flush. This time. His efforts, however, earned him nothing much other than a reassuring shoulder pat and the assurance that his secret was safe with them—

At least that. Legolas could appreciate that, even though it wasn't true. He didn't need the other students thinking he had a crush on their instructor, it was enough that even this one knew. It was pretty surprising too, knowing how humanity could be when it came to same-sex relationships. Still, Legolas wasn't going to question it. After the initial denial, he let it play out as it would, finding it safer for the classmate to think it was a crush, not... something far more indescribable and impossible to believe.

It was just this one, and no other, thankfully, and Legolas had not been approached about this matter again by anyone else. Luckily for him, but he made sure to put even more effort into being discreet from now on.

Towards the end of the day, he too was one of the recruits with questions. A smile in place, easy and confident, "Why make the choice to mentor instead of staying out in the field?" He was most certainly not too old, and it seemed, to Legolas's eye, that he left his heart out there somewhere.

Legolas held Turnis's gaze with little shame or shyness, though perhaps he should have feigned some just for the sake of the role he had to play, but he found he couldn't. Not before a man so much like Boromir. He doubted it'd have been appreciated, confidence and pride were better valued by the man in the past, Legolas could only hope it was the same now—

Yet why was he thinking in such terms? It could not be the same man, this was simply impossible. Men were never reborn, far as he knew. Men awaited what Eru had prepared for them all at the end of time, with their ancestors. The true freedom, while elves were bound to live their lives out, no matter how tiresome it would grow. Legolas had been lucky, in that, that with his cherry personality and insatiable curiosity, it was easy enough to live in a world that always had something interesting to offer.

Either way, the answer offered was, as was common to say among his supposed peers, bullshit. Legolas didn't think it was a lie, far from it, or at least not exactly a lie, but he suspected it wasn't all. Be it still thinking he knew this man to have been Boromir, once upon a time, or from his bearing as he spoke.

He couldn't really call out the instructor on his little lie in front of all the students, however, so he kept that to himself. Instead there was another remark, bold just as well, that he was not able to hold in and keep to himself as he probably should have. Legolas smiled, putting up a bit of a front for the sake of Turnis and this one classmate that thought he had a crush on the man, ducked his head with a nod of acceptance and then allowed his gaze to flick back to Turnis's face. "So it is all for... us?" What should have been a tease, and normally would be, had to be reduced to a shy inquiry, "I think we all ought to be honoured!"