Tauriel's perspective is written by u/1823965/ (And since I have my doubt's that worked, her UN is . .xx)
The wind whispered through the trees, rustling the leaves upon drooping branches in a manner which would cause shivers to crawl down the spines of beings unaccustomed to the eerie paths of Mirkwood. Once known as Greenwood the Great, my ever my beloved home had become tainted by darkness. The debased woodland realm played host to evil within its depths, and the shadow of the Dark Lord, which fell upon it long ago and changed its name, had scarce lifted in centuries, yet Taur-e-Ndaedelos was still my home. I traveled beyond its borders only when duty's call led me thus. I knew the forest as I knew the backs of my own hands, and the forest knew me.
A mere shift in the breeze brought a familiar scent wafting towards me, and sharp ears caught the lightest of approaching footfalls, prompting me to draw an arrow from the quiver at my back and ready it within my bow, string pulled back to my cheek in a fluid motion which took no longer than the pivot of my heels upon the earth to change my direction and bring my aim directly at my target.
"You know better than to sneak upon me so." The words were accompanied by the flash of an ivory grin mirrored in the expression of Legolas before me.
"Does the mighty Tauriel fail to recognize friend from foe?" Legolas taunted easily as I lowered the weapon and executed a mockingly graceful bow.
"Of course not. I seek only to remind the Prince that he still makes his presence known far too easily. An orc could have heard you coming."
Legolas shook his head, his laughter joining my own. "You simply fret too much, my friend."
"It's my job to fret, Legolas," I returned, my gaze shifting towards the eastern border of the Mirkwood but a scant mile from where we stood. Legolas nodded once in understanding, his own expression turning pensive before he uttered the reason for his presence.
"My father demands to see us both immediately."
Legolas had no answer for my inquiries as to the reason for the abrupt summoning, so it remained only to ensure the patrols were made aware of my departure before we both traveled the short distance to the seat of the Elven King in the northeast of Mirkwood, where we had been driven over time by the darkness which began to consume the southern regions of the forest.
Soon enough we found ourselves within the caverns of a great wooded slope, the halls of Thranduil which lay therein protected by a stone gate and a river over which the only passage was a solitary bridge. No other attended the meeting called by the king save for his personal guards who stationed themselves at either side of his carved wooden throne; Legolas and I were to be the first informed of an encroaching threat from Nanduhirion, Drimrill Dale in the common tongue. Word came to Thranduil through Lady Galadriel that orc activity was on the rise within the valley such as it had not been in decades. Numerous packs had been tracked east of the Great River, some heading north and others daring to venture so far as within mere miles of our Mirkwood borders. Lorien was protected by the power Galadriel wielded in her ring, yet our home possessed no protection but what we ourselves enforced with blade and arrow. Thranduil would take no risks and leave nothing to chance, as threats less tangible and not so easy to cut down as orc packs already troubled our forest.
"I would have one of you lead a company to Nanduhirion to assess this threat, and to eliminate it if need be," Thranduil commanded in a soft tone. "The other will remain here in command of the guard to secure our borders." Thranduil's eyes passed over Legolas and rested upon me. "You will lead the scouting party, Tauriel. Legolas shall remain here and assume command of the guard in your absence." Legolas stiffened beside me while I dipped my head in acknowledgement of my charge before raising speculative hues to meet my king's gaze, fathomless as the sky. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Thranduil had been there when my father, his Captain of the Guard for many centuries, was killed defending his home and people during an orc raid. I had just barely come of age when I lost the man I loved most in the entire world. I saw the loathsome creature deal my father a lethal wound with a rude blade already drenched in the blood of other warriors before it was slain with three arrows to the throat by my father's second in command. Father's sacrifice spared many lives that day, my own included. Overcome with grief, my mother soon began to languish. Had she not the will to live for my sake alone, she might not have lived at all. She toiled on for over a decade, but eventually those who cared for her most began to fear that she would not survive should she stay. With my blessing, she sailed to Valinor to leave the pain of Middle Earth behind. I loved and honoured my mother despite her hard choice, but I vowed I would never be like her. I was my father's daughter and a daughter of the woodlands. Never would I abandon home and duty or waste away for love lost, only to be driven by despair to the land of the Undying. Vengeance soon began to burn hot within me, creeping around my spirit like vines and binding me in its grip, the only release to be found in destroying the evil beings who destroyed my family. In order to accomplish such an aim, I took up arms and fought my way to the position at Thranduil's side: Captain of the Mirkwood Guard. My bow became my own guardian, my long knives extensions of my very arms. I would permit no one to think that I had gained my place through influence or inheritance; therefore I trained twice as hard as any other to prove myself worthy in Thranduil's eyes. Once successful in gaining the position I desired, I devoted myself not only to the people I protected but also to the king I served and the son he cherished. They filled the void left by the loss of my own closest kin, and I would perish before I allowed any harm to come to them. Both knew me well, and they stood among the few whom I could not hide the hatred in my heart from, no matter how deeply within I tried to bury it. It was not something to be proud of, such a burden of bitterness and lust for revenge. It was not our way. Neither King nor Prince ever spoke a word of reprimand, however, and I suspected that Thranduil even viewed it as a useful thing. A tool with which to sharpen me into a deadly weapon.
I agreed readily to the task assigned to me, eagerly even, and departed the royal hall with Legolas at my side for the open air once more. The Prince was gravely quiet until we reached the bridge, and he had given his father no response but for a deferential nod before we departed. Once beyond the range of any other's hearing, Legolas muttered of his dissatisfaction with the idea, stating that Thranduil should have chosen him for the task and left me to command my guard.
"He has his reasons, Legolas," I chided.
"He always does," came the hard reply, and my friend's eyes were troubled.
I laid a confident hand upon Legolas' shoulder. "You must trust that Thranduil will do what is best for you. For all of us. He always does," I repeated his own words back to him.
"Perhaps you trust too much, Tauriel." It was not a rebuke or an accusation. It was a suggestion. A question even, soft and seemingly benign, and enough to leave me speechless before Legolas pulled me into a quick embrace, his parting words murmured against my ear.
"Tenna' ento lye omenta, mellon." Until next we meet, friend.
I rode out at dawn with fifty at my back. Fifty-one in all, devoted to the protection of our lands and our people, and one devoted to the promise of death upon an old enemy so dearly despised.