Blood, Sweat and Fire by Dhagon (got × minecraft)

(Oceans of blood and the fires of hell. If I'm to be a Targaryen in a world as dangerous as this, there is no sense holding back. At all. And while I'm at it I may just lay down the foundation for a better future. One block at a time. After all history isn't written by who was morally superior, it's written by who won. SI.)

Chapter 1 A Rough Start

In despair I watched the baby cough. I had seen all to many deaths in my time, but this one like no other caused me despair. Aegon Targaryen, renamed Jon Snow, was dying. All my visions, all my plans had hinged upon him. Without him, I could see no future.

I watched his step mother ignore him and wanted to rage and rant. Could she not tell how important he was? Why was I the only one there to watch as he steadily became weaker? If only I could reach out and help.

Alas I am largely powerless, able to see but not interfere. So very weak after so many years. Years hiding from the Night King and his White Walkers. And now it may as well have been for nothing.

When he finally died so did all my plans. All that preparation for naught. I contemplated walking out to just let my enemies find me. I probably would have if it was actually possible to leave my tree.

I hope little Bran Stark has a future.

Maybe I can warn him to flee in time to preserve his gift. Maybe he'll be able to find a future where I can no longer see one.

I lost track of how long I despaired. I stopped using my eyes, not wanting to watch a world that was doomed. Instead, lost in regret, I just stared at the at the mass of roots that cover me. They are the price for my powers. Useless, pointless powers.

...

With an almost physical wrenching sensation my vision shifted. My view careened across the land as it was dragged across Westeros to view what I could feel would be a significant event. I could feel my strength draining as events unfolded in painful clarity. I had never had a vision so strong before.

I recognize the elaborate architecture. Dragonstone, home of the Targaryens. A woman lay on a bed giving birth. I recognize her features as Targaryen, but not her. I hope it isn't important. How much have I missed in my despair?

My hope flickered even as the vision faded. Maybe another was to be born to take Aegon's place? Uncertain I poured my remaining energy into the vision. Somehow I knew this was important. I needed to see this.

When the child is born my vision fragments. It hurts, like I had hot pokers shoved in my eyes. I feel blind. Me, Lord Bloodraven with a thousand and one eyes, and I am blind. The gods gave me hope, then took my sight. Truly they are all assholes.

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When I was born the second time I admit I was a bit excited. You read about self insert situations all the time, but never really expect it to happen to you. Well, that or reincarnation. Either way the world has just proven itself infinitely more interesting than I had previously thought.

At least that was my initial expectations. I admit it was hard to hold onto that enthusiasm as I was subsequently squeezed and crushed and then frozen. Being born was traumatic. I still cringe when I think back to how my bones bent to allow my birth.

Despite the pain, I eagerly gazed around. This was it! This was my new life. Time to see what I got. Sadly my new eyes had trouble focusing, but I could hear perfectly fine. Thus I listened to what I assumed to be my mother give birth to another baby.

So sibling. Come on. Hurry up and name me already. I need info.

"They will be called stormborn." Why did that sound familiar?

"His name will be Maekor." Meh. Not great and a bit pretentious.

"Just as your namesake may you represent a new future." That's nice. Still not happy with the name.

"Her name will be Daenerys." Wait, what? Ahh, damn. If she said anything else I failed to hear it. I was upset enough that I couldn't really stop my infant body from crying at that point. Good news I know where and when I am. Bad news is where and when I am.

Freaking Planetos. This world is a nightmare. Of all the possible fantasy settings and I get one of the lowest magic ones possible? Couldn't I at least have been a Stark? At least they were wargs. As a Targaryen I have an affinity towards giant, temperamental fire-breathing creatures. Which are sort of extinct. This sucks.

I wish I had never been born.

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My initial impressions of my situation may have been a little bit off. First off I actually end up remembering how I died. So I'm much happier now since it means I'm actually alive. As in an order of magnitude happier.

I can even kind of get why I'm here too. Freezing to death after being mugged was a pretty terrible way to go. It sort of fits the whole reincarnated as a Targaryen with their burning people to death thing. Or I may be trying to hard to have it make actual logical sense. In a karmic sort of way. Or maybe Newtonian.

There was another reason I didn't mind too much. That part may tie in to my discovery that I did in fact have magic. Kind of. Still, it makes an enormous difference.

When I can finally focus my eyes and I saw the HUD I was pretty excited. The Gamer ability was utterly broken given enough time. Mentally I screamed out Menu and various command prompts. It was only with my success with Inventory that I realized I wasn't a Gamer.

Well I was a gamer, but not The Gamer. No, my abilities seemed to be much more limited. Not that I was picky. Any advantage was to be treasured in this death trap of a world.

Minecraft. Not really what I would have picked but the more I thought about it the more it seemed to fit. The importance of obsidian. The emphasis on enchanted items rather than casting spells. The focus on fire. The significance of dragons.

No. Minecraft seems very appropriate. And my name fit too. If I couldn't be named Steve, Maekor fit well enough.

The more I thought about it, the more possibilities I thought of. Every advantage was to be ruthlessly exploited. Depending on whether it was the book or TV version I had between fifteen and twenty years before the Long Night starts. There is no way I'm freezing to death a second time.

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I had plenty of time to make my plans. The journey across the sea was long and pretty boring. Boring since there was no real way for me to experiment with my abilities without fine motor skills or well, any motor skills.

I did get to know some of the people I would be growing up with. My sister was a baby so not much there. Cute in that wrinkly old man way all babies are. Carefully watching doesn't show her acting in any way different. So probably just a normal baby. Well as normal as someone that grows up to be called the Mother of Dragon's can be. Which apparently is a lot.

My older brother though actually seemed fairly decent. Viserys actually helped the wet nurse take care of me and Daenerys. He whined a lot, but that was hardly a crime.

He also looked a bit older than five, which argued for it being closer to the books. Which meant I only had around a decade to prepare. The books start when Daenerys is thirteen and most of the books take place during the next couple of years. Still a decade is a pretty decent chunk of time.

The rest consisted of a handful of knights and servants. Knowing most of them leave or die soon I don't bother learning their names.

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The journey itself was actually pleasant. I love the smell of the sea although that might be just in contrast to a ship full of unhygienic people. Damn. I'm going to need to grow fast. If only so I can take charge and enforce rules about bathing.

Contrast or not, I still enjoyed it. I also found the rocking of the ship soothing. Maybe after the Long Night I'll become a sailor. Or at least buy a seaside villa.

Arriving at Braavos was a treat. I hadn't managed to get my vision working before we left, but it was fine now. As such I had a spectacular view of the giant statue which I forgot the name of. Really wishing I had read the books more recently. Oh well, my presence alone means nothing I remember can be completely trusted.

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I'm one when I began speaking. Twelve months. Twelve long agonizing months of muttering words to myself at night and at Daenerys when the nanny isn't present. An all too seldom occurrence.

I waited until Daenerys uttered her first syllable before I revealed that I could speak. I tried to limit myself, but it's just so hard. I was still mostly trapped inside a tiny unfit body and dependent on others for pretty much everything. My voice is practically the only thing I can control.

Given the bizarre coincidence of the Common Tongue being pretty much English I obviously didn't really need to learn it. Likewise with reading.

Thank god that I didn't frighten anyone with how quickly I learned. Well, anyone important. A few servants were dismissed, but none of the guards were scared of me. Guards were important. They kept me alive. Thankfully they decide I'm a genius rather than possessed. As backwards as this society is, it was a real worry.

Instead they include me in tutoring with Viserys. Babies have an insane learning capacity and I abused it as much as I was able. I tried to learn everything. I had already started picking up the basics of several other language. Now I expanded upon them as well as studied finance, geography, war. Everything I was allowed. I tried to fill as much of my time with learning as I could.

I made a bit of a nuisance of myself with all of my questions. Viserys quickly grew annoyed with me, but I didn't really care. With how he turns out I was already planning on abandoning him when the time came.

Not my sister though. I paid careful attention to her but she didn't display any signs of being as unique as I. Daenerys is very much a normal adorable one year old baby. Maybe a bit clingy. Not hard to blame her since our mom died, but still annoying when I was trying to study.

In the end I made pretty much no progress with my powers. Daenerys didn't like sleeping alone so I settled for reading through the nights.

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When I was two we moved. Lorath is much more isolated than Braavos and I heard the guards talking about how it'll be easier to defend us here. Daenerys didn't like moving and that first night was terrible. She just kept repeating "I want to go home!".

The servants eventually just gave up and put us both to bed. In desperation I started telling her a bedtime story. It worked, but she decided she wanted one every night. I didn't mind too much. I had read thousands of books in my previous life. It was nice to relax and take the time to remember them.

It was also due to the stories that I finally was able to start experimenting with my powers. As long as I whispered occasionally to her I could leave Daenerys alone in the bed. I still only had limited success there. Any real noise would draw too much attention. The only real experiments I've managed are with wood.

The colder climate meant we had a fireplace in the room. A fireplace with it's own small stack of firewood.

I found I can store wood fairly successfully. Interestingly it converts it into the closest minecraft equivalent item. Kindling if it's large enough becomes a stick. If it's too small it just won't go into the Inventory.

The split logs of firewood tend to become planks or if it's large enough a wood block. Interestingly the item is converted into the precise size the Minecraft equivalent would be regardless of whether there was another material. A block of wood is always exactly a meter cubed. Not sure where the new material comes from but gives me hope for being able to abuse the Infinity Enchantment later on.

I accidentally drop the first wooden block I make when I was trying to measure it. That's when I found out one of the best differences between the game in my powers. When I panicked and grabbed the block I felt an option and was able to store it in my Inventory without breaking it.

It only works with unattached blocks, but it meant I can actually use my Crafting Table without worrying about the noise of breaking it. It's too bad I wasn't able to wander far enough away to actually go mining.

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When I was three I expanded my lessons into cooking. Part of it was just from homesickness and the variety of dishes there. The cooks loved me and said I had a natural talent for cooking.

Interestingly this unlocked my recipe book. Another mental area like my Inventory it stored the instructions on how to create everything I currently know how to make. I actually see a fair few things already listed I've never made, all of them dealing with wood or the vegetables. I'm going to have to start collecting other materials to unlock the rest of the recipes as soon as possible.

The most important reason was it gave me access to plants. Half my Inventory is now full of various plants and seeds. In the story we end up homeless and starving, begging on the streets. I fully intend to avoid that fate.

I also needed food to heal. Haven't actually tested healing serious injuries, but any scrapes and bruises clear out in seconds. Same with any serious activity such as running. I don't really get tired, but my food meter drains pretty quickly. Clearly I am never going to be a great warrior.

Moving to Lorath had only slowed down the rate of assassination attempts. The ones that did occur were also fairly obvious since visitors tend to stick out. Sadly tutors had also been harder to arrange and my lessons had largely halted.

I couldn't even experiment with my powers. Between Daenerys and the guards I was never alone long enough. The guards I could escape from, but Daenerys knew me too well. She could always find me.

Finally I resorted to bribes. For some reason she loves lemons and thanks to the tree in Braavos I had plenty. I did manage to plant a tree, no use using up all my stock. She still won't leave my side for more than a few minutes though. This could take awhile.