The lost Targaryen

Chapter 23

Pov maerya Targaryen
The booming cheers echoed through the fighting pit, a cacophony of excitement and anticipation that filled the air. Hizdahr walked to his chair beside Daenerys, taking his seat with an air of confident expectation. The tension in the room grew palpable as the two settled in their seats "Where have you been?" Daenerys inquired, her voice tinged with curiosity and a touch of annoyance.
Hizdahr gave a casual response, his tone nonchalant. "Just making sure everything is in order," he replied, a hint of a smile on his lips.

A lone figure entered the fighting pit, his arrival met with deafening cheers from the crowd. He respectfully bowed to Daenerys Targaryen, who watched with anticipation. As he turned to face the people, the roar of approval morphed into an expectant silence, all eyes fixed on him.

The man's voice echoed through the fighting pit, his words met with an eruption of cheers from the crowd.

"Dāez citizens," he began, his tone vibrant and filled with energy. "Hen meereen ondoso se blessings hen graces se zȳhon majesty se dāria"(Free citizens of Meereen by the blessings of the graces and her majesty the queen , welcome  to the great games)  he proclaimed, his words carrying the weight of a grand announcement. As the crowd celebrated, the energy in the room reached a feverish pitch, the anticipation building with each passing moment.

Two young men entered the fighting pit with energy and determination, their voices filled with ambition "Issa dāria," the first one exclaimed, his words eager and passionate. "I ēlī contest qilōni jāhor triumph, sekostōba?"(My queen , our first contest who will triumph , the strong?)

The crowd's enthusiasm reached new heights as the two young men prepared to compete, the
The first young man gestured towards the more muscular opponent, highlighting the contrast in physiques. "Nykeā se adere?" "(or the quick) he inquired, his tone confident and challenging. The crowd responded with a murmur of interest, their gazes shifting between the two opponents as they awaited the upcoming contest.

The young man stepped forward, his voice filled with determination and pride. "Nyke vīlībagon se morghūljagon syt aōha jaqiarzir oh jaqiarza dāria," (I fight and die for your glory oh glorious queen) he declared, his words filled with a sense of purpose.

The more muscular opponent stepped forward in response, matching the young man's energy "Nyke vīlībagon se morghūljagon syt aōha jaqiarzir, oh jaqiarza dāria,"  (I fight and die for your glory oh glorious queen) he echoed, his voice filled with determination.

The air was thick with anticipation as the two young men prepared to face off, the crowd on the edge of their seats.

The men behind the contestants retreated, leaving the two young men standing alone in the fighting pit. The air was filled with suspense as a tense silence settled over the crowd "They're waiting for you," maerya remarked, her voice calm and steady. Hizdahr then spoke up, his voice firm yet encouraging. "Clap your hands," he instructed, With a slow nod, Daenerys obeyed, clapping her hands together. As she did, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause once more, filling the arena with a deafening roar of approval.

The fight between the two young men intensified, each of them swinging their swords with precision and skill. The smaller man swiftly sliced the larger man with his sword, gaining an early advantage. As the fight unfolded, Daario spoke up from behind Daenerys, his voice confident and assured. "That one," he said, his gaze fixed on the smaller man. "No question about it, that's where you should put your money."

"The smaller man it is," Tyrion declared, his eyes fixed on the fight. Daenerys shook her head in response, her voice resolute. "I'm not putting my money anywhere," she said firmly.
Maerya chuckled at Daenerys's words, her expression amused. "Smart choice," she quipped, a hint of a smile on her lips.