Lilivona could hear the remarks, she wasn't deaf.

"How can a little thing like her wield such a big weapon?" She'd just respond with brooding silence, crossing her arms and looking back with a sharp glare that silenced any opposition.

The Iron Bull had asked once, albeit in a much funnier way so as to ward away impoliteness that often brought on her wrath, to which she'd simply looked him up to down and said, "Not the only big thing can wield with skill." He'd looked dumbfounded for a moment (as well as her traveling companions) before letting out loud laugh as his lieutenant snicked in passing.

Not long after she was readily taking on a dragon with him by her side as they both relished in the great victory before she bellowed, ("Ataash varin kata (In the end lies glory)!") A wide smile and closed eyes distracting her from the calculating gaze even as they left the Hinterlands and celebrated in the Herald's Rest back at Skyhold. As it turned out, she was a chatty drunk, though only to those who could understand; she was rattling off in more Qunlat most had ever heard in their lives as she smiled and pranced around making unknown comments to all she passed. Most were simply amused at the antics of the vallaslin-covered elf as she seemed much less gruff than usual, instead seemingly having fun for the first time outside of battle.

"So, you seem to be enjoying yourself."

("Is that even a question? We took down a fucking ataashi (Dragon).")

"And now you're drunk enough to be speaking another language fluently, huh?"

("Viddasala must be rolling in her damn grave, some Tamassran I turned out to be.")

"You were a priestess then?" He asked in surprise.

("The look on your face! Ha! Yeah, many imekari (Children) to keep charge of but I'd say they turned out pretty fine under me...real shame I'll never see them again…") Her frown turned up and into a smile, ("But hey! Maybe we can talk when I'm less drunk, yeah? You are very distracting.")

"Count on it, boss."

Lilivona had nursed her headache for awhile but she was no coward, nor one that was prone to post-drinking memory loss. Probably why she was headed in the direction of their resident Ben-Hassrath with a pretty serious face.

"We need talk."

"Agreed." She sat on the battlements with a piece of jerky in hand as she waited for some sort of questioning related to last night's antics and soon the silence was broken by just that, "So...you're Qunari?"

"Even a question?"

"How did you become Tal-Vashoth?"

"Not-! Ugh...listen, I viddathari, there because want to be, why think I left?!"

"You're no agent, what other reason would you have to be at the Conclave?"

"Vashedan katoh-qalaba (Foolish glory animal). Tal-Vashoth, or, well, Vashoth. From Kirkwall, convert from nearby tribe. Forgot much common, not much to say, there for two years before shit went south and had no fucking clue." She paused, looking torn, "I told them, 'Arishokost ebra sala. Seerkata tost eb na shoh (The Arishok will see to it. That, or everyone dies),' No warrior but could kill if need; they laugh, Arishok dead."

"Nowhere to return to, only option was to cross sea and that not happening. Years of harassment by fucking city, years of study, only to be held by bunch of idiots that laugh and celebrate as they held their false glory and kept me for fun, left muttering, 'Sataareth kadan hass-toh issala ebasit (It is my purpose to do what I must for those I consider important.),' I not want to catch idiocy."

Eventually they took job at Conclave, Itwa-adim (They all fall), took the biggest sword I find, taught be strong, with rage they die; 'Anaan esaam Qun, nehraa koslun, nehraa kadan (Victory in the Qun, for the sake of the prophet, for my brothers).' Ben-Hassrath agent found, screaming every profanity knew but did not kill when I attack, think knew I fucked up; bodies probably pretty telling.

Told him shit I went through, skipped stories about the company dumping ale on my head whenever I spoke Qunlat, how I thorn in side 'cause it entertaining and that was only reason I alive, just named self. Told me he take me back with him, put in his report then we set off the next day; I fucking ecstatic, I think that only reason he knew I truthful. Then what do ya know? Temple blow sky-high and I come out with shit language skills and teachings of Ariqun, first words come to mind, 'As-eb vashe-qalab.' (This is bullshit). Got magic-shit on my hand that mean I never going back, had no choice but to accept fate in saving shit world and wait for this vashedan-bas (Shitty thing) to kill." She finished, holding up her left hand as she butchered common despite speaking as best she could, being in the city, they'd weaned her off the use of the language to encourage her learning and companionship; now she barely recalled a time she'd used it often.

Bull seemed to be taking his time to process all of it before adding one more question., "So what happened to your hair?"

"Saarebas' friends thought it funny, he did, once red now white; said it 'Matched the bitch-marks.'" She recalled bitterly, running a hand through her white hair, the roots already growing in with a contrasting red, "What defransdim (Dick)."

"Well...that was a backstory."

"You tell me."

"Though...I can't wait to see you with red hair, Tamassran."

"Noted, The Iron Bull."

"Ah, fuck it."

"Good plan."

"Do you want me to report this? I could, it might even help."

"No, time for choosing own life over." She states somberly before smirking, "Now only choose who to fuck."

"Na'thek (As you wish), kadan."