Hello everyone,

This popped into my head the other day, and has refused to leave. So here we are again, writing it down. Not sure if it will go anywhere to be honest. It's sure to prove interesting I believe. So let's get into it.

SI is thrown into the body of Petyr Baelish when he is 12 years old, just as he heals from Brandon Stark's merciful scar and is granted a nerfed down version of the Gamer. Like so nerfed it might be a hindrance, rather than a boon.

Let's get straight into it.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing.

You have slept in a bed, injury reduced 5%.

"What the fuck?" I wondered as I read the white prompt that floated in my vision. Directly behind it was a red sandstone ceiling, the kind that I had only ever seen in videos or documentaries. I looked around, and the prompt followed my vision, blocking almost everything I wanted to look at and being an all around nuisance.

I am not sure what caused me to think my next words. Maybe it was the outrageous amounts of gamer fic's I had read in my life. Maybe it was because of the pure ridiculousness of the situation that I could do nothing but go along with it.


The prompt disappeared immediately. There was no fade to the words or letters, one second it was there, the next it was gone.

Holy shit I have the Gamer powers.

That revelation caused my brain to literally shut down. I sat there, staring at the red stone ceiling above me, wondering what I was supposed to make out of the entire ordeal. In the end, I think I fell into a bit of shock for a while.

Status. I thought after a while. First of all, where was I at? What was I doing on a straw bed? Why the fuck did my chest hurt so bad.

Petyr Baelish

Strength: 4

Vitality: 2

Dexterity: 5

Intelligence: 16

Wisdom: 14

The prompt appeared on the left side of my vision, and on the right, a generic picture of my body was displayed. It showed that I was wearing a white cotton shirt, and green trousers. Off to the side of each article of clothing was a number that I could only assume was an armor rating of some sort.

Naturally, my clothes provided me with zero protection.

"Petyr Baelish?!"

"May I leave this forsaken bed, Maester Vyman?" I asked the white haired man as he inspected the wound on my chest. He was sitting on a chair beside my bed, poking and prodding my tiny chest and the red wound-like scar that ran across it.

It was nearly midday by now, almost four or five hours since I had woken up and discovered that I had transmigrated from my original world, universe, whatever you wanted to call it, to a Song of Ice and Fire and taken over the body of Petyr Baelish.

Literally the most hated character in the books and show, arguably at least.

AND I was a fucking child. Twelve years old if my memory serves me correctly. Maybe eleven. Regardless, I was small and skinny.

"You heal remarkably fast, Petyr. I can't find any reason to keep you here." Vyman said as he stood up. "I thought we might lose you to the fever in the night, but you are stronger than you appear." The man continued as he walked towards the door of my room. "Now, I must see to Lord Hoster, fetch me if you require any more assistance with the wound."

The door closed.

Perhaps Petyr did die in the night. Either way, he's not here anymore. I thought to myself. It was true, too. I had no recollection of this place, or this body. I could tell you that I should have been in Texas in my universe, and that was it.

Whoever, or whatever, caused my transmigration didn't even have the decency to put me as a Lord, or an heir. I was little more than a peasant. Although I did have the Gamer power. That was surely enough to secure supremacy in this world right?

"Well that was fast." I said as I swung my legs over my bed and stood up. The Maester had literally come inside, looked at the wound for a couple of minutes, in more astonishment than anything else, and left. I was ridiculously happy about that, because I was not the type to lay around in bed, no matter the wound. I could not go stir crazy the first day of my new life.

I looked around the room, trying to familiarize myself with where I was living now. I should have memorized it by now. Four hours of panicking, and looking around the room trying to figure out what the fuck was going on should have produced some sort of knowledge base to work with.

No dice.

Something tells me Gamers Mind isn't a thing. I thought, remembering my episode of anxiety and shock. Panic gripped my chest once again, but I forced it away, instead focusing on the room.

My room was sparse. I had a bed, with a trunk at it's foot. There was a rug of some animal on the floor, it looked like a wolf although I couldn't prove that. Off to the side, on another wall, was a desk with candles, parchment, quill, and ink. On the wall directly opposite of my bed, was a bookshelf packed full with scrolls and books inside.

All in all, it was a small room, but it was homey and one I could work with.

I moved over to the bookshelf, as it presented an opportunity to test these 'Gamer Powers'. Would I actually be able to 'eat' a book and learn a skill?

I picked up a scroll, without unfurling it, and waited.


"Isn't there supposed to be a prompt or something?" I wondered as I stared at the scroll. I smiled as an idea struck me.

Eat. I commanded, fully confident that the scroll would disappear and I would receive a prompt saying that I had learned a skill.


Instead, I thought I would have to open the scroll to activate the ability to eat knowledge. I did just that and unfurled it. Surprisingly the words were in the language that I knew, English. Maybe the game translated everything for me?

Still no prompt.

'What is Currency?'

The title of the scroll took me off guard and I couldn't help but read the answer in the following lines. It went into depth about how currency was a social construct designed to simplify transactions between people and society.

I was impressed at the knowledge the scroll had. Even if it was short and sweet, it was completely accurate. A degree in economics in my last life guaranteed that I knew such a simple concept. It was the foundation for an economy after all.

Economics: Lvl 67

Branch of knowledge concerned with the production, consumption, and transfer of wealth.

Dismiss. I commanded as I got done reading the skill and what it meant. I could already tell that it was going to be a pain dealing with the prompts from now on.

Level 67. I'm assuming that is because of my previous knowledge on the subject. I thought as I digested the information. Although I was slightly offended about the skill not being a higher level, considering the significant amount of studying I had to go through to get said knowledge.

Although it was only a bachelors…

There were three knocks on my door that caused me to put the scroll back on the bookshelf and move over to it.

I opened it to find a girl who had her head down while looking at the floor. She was a plain thing, wearing clothing that you would expect from a servant. She had olive colored skin and her brown hair was tied up so as to keep it out of her face. It was a rats nest, to be honest.

"Lord Hoster would like to see you in his solar." She said before curtseying and walking away.

"Excuse me." I called out before she could leave. She turned around, but did not address me as a lord, or any other title. "Could you show me the way? I believe the medicine has gone to my head." I lied.

Manipulation: Lvl 43

Control or influence (A person or situation) cleverly, unfairly, or unscrupulously.

Lying: Lvl 54

The ability to Lie.

"Of course, follow me." She said before turning and walking off in a hurry.

I followed her obediently through the red sandstone hallways of Riverrun trying to memorize the pathway. Along the way we passed people and children alike, nearly all of them looked at me with disgust in their eyes. It took me a moment to figure out why.

I had dared to ask for the hand of Catelyn Tully. Not even that, I dared to duel the man she was betrothed to. No doubt, that was why Lord Tully had called me to his solar in the first place. Now that I was healed, I was sure to have some sort of punishment.

Eventually, we arrived at a staircase that I couldn't see how high it went. Two guards, wearing the traditional House Tully arms, and the fish helmets stood on either side of the stairway.

"Business?" One of them barked.

"Petyr Baelish to see Lord Tully." I answered as the girl shimmied away somewhere to go do her duties.

"Go ahead." One nodded to me, before looking away and deeming me insignificant.

I nodded and moved to the stairs. Just as I was about to pass one of the guards and land a foot on the first step, his foot reached out and tripped me. I caught myself on the stairs with a hand and a shin. It was painful as fuck.

At the bottom of my vision, I saw a red health bar appear for the slightest of moments. The smallest sliver possible disappeared from the health bar, before being refilled immediately. It was almost like it never even happened.

The two guards chuckled behind me.

I stood up, dusted myself off, and turned around to them. The one who tripped me was still looking back at me.

"Problem boy?" The guard asked, as he began to bow up to me, ready for a fight.

I stared up at him. Even on the stairs, I was two inches shorter than the man, and couldn't even look in his eyes. He wasn't the tallest person I had ever seen, but he was not short either. He had a stockiness to him that promises strength and a lifetime of training with his sword.

"One of these days, I'll kick your fucking ass." I said as I turned away from him and walked up the stairs.

Both of them laughed at me.

I climbed the stairs, for what had to be about four or five flights. It was a tight spiral staircase with a few windows that led up the tower. Eventually I came to a door, and knocked twice.

"Come in." A man's voice said from the other side.

I opened the door and entered as he asked. The room was in the shape of a triangle, as was the tower I was currently in. To my left was a doorway that led to a balcony. Even from my position, I could see for miles and miles around Riverrun. I saw the lakes, ponds, and rivers that gave the Riverlands its name. Beautiful trees dotted the landscape that wasn't occupied by water.

"Beautiful, isn't it."

The manly but fair voice caused me to look at the man who invited me here. A man that held a lot of influence and power in this world.

I bent my arm at my elbow in front of my waist, and bowed towards him quickly. "My Lord." I greeted. Somehow, I knew that I was doing it right, as if I was on autopilot. "It is stunning." I answered, as I moved into the room properly.

He sat almost in the dead center of the room behind an ornate and beautiful desk. The desk rested on a bear skin on the floor, and had stacks of papers, quills, inks, candles, and everything else a Lord might need to do his daily duties.

"I pride myself on having such a spectacular view, Petyr." Hoster said as he looked me in my eyes. He had a grey and red mane of hair that ran down to shoulders. The beard matched, and blended into his hair perfectly. He was handsome with high cheekbones, and blue eyes.

"Almost as much as I pride myself on my daughters…"

Straight to the point then, huh Hoster?

There was a pause, as he sat back in his chair for a moment and studied me. I did my best not to look too intimidated. The silence, and stare dragged on for a long time. Eventually, it became obvious to me that he wanted me to speak. So I did.

"I have wronged you." I admitted, while nodding my head towards him.

"You have wronged me, Catelyn, my house, and by extension, the Riverlands." Hoster corrected with a straight face. As he said the words, his eyes continued to bore into my own.

I managed to hold the stern gaze with an equally as determined one of my own.

"Yes sir I have." I agreed. "I have had a lot of time to think, as I laid in that bed. I believe I have come to realize the severity of my actions." I added on, still looking the man in his eyes, as he would respect.

"Continue." Hoster said in response.

I nodded, and obliged. "Not only did I wrong you. I spat on the friendship you had with my father. I disgraced the generosity you have bestowed on me my entire life. I jeopardized my friendship with your family. I jeopardized your agreement with Lord Stark and the North. And worst of all, I disgraced the very woman I meant to love."

Improvisation: Lvl 58

The ability to improvise in key situations.


"Yes, perhaps you have come to understand the consequences of your actions." Hoster said with a look of surprise on his face. Then it turned serious again. "But does that free you from punishment?" He asked.

"No, My Lord." I answered quickly, and honestly.

Hoster once again looked surprised at my admission. He leaned forward in his seat, and put his elbows on his desk then.

"Indeed. Then let me ask you a question. What would you do, if you were in my position?" Hoster asked.

That threw me off guard. If some child that I had helped raise, alongside my own children had fought my daughters betrothed for her hand? Well this was my first day in this fucked up world. I don't know, maybe I would write it off as kids being teenagers.

But what if I was a Lord? Now that was an interesting question.

"That is a difficult question, My Lord. But I will answer it all the same." I said, trying to sell what I was about to say.

"I would probably send me off with some no name knight to squire under. Where I would most likely die to a bandit, or falling off a horse, or something equally as dreadful. I would do something so that I would never hear from me again I believe." I answered, completely stone faced.

If Hoster was surprised before, he was downright shocked now. He had definitely not expected an answer like that.

"But I swear on all that is holy, if you give me another chance to earn your trust, you will never regret it. I will learn to fight, with sword and shield and spear and with my fists if I have to. I will earn knighthood. I would protect you and your family with my life and sword. I will read everything I can in the library to prove that I can be useful in other areas too. Economics, leadership, stewardship, and whatever else I deem appropriate. If you choose to give me another chance, I will do my best to see the Riverlands rise above the rest of the Kingdoms and dominate the continent and you will have my loyalty until I die." When I finished my speech, I realized I was pacing around the room. I had fallen deep into the half-lie I was trying to weave.

Skill Level up!

Skill Level up!

Skill Level up!

Skill Level up!

Skill Level up!

Skill Level up!

Skill Level up!

Skill Level up!

Manipulation Lvl 48

Control or influence (A person or situation) cleverly, unfairly, or unscrupulously.

Improvisation: Lvl 61

The ability to improvise in key situations.

I read the prompts briefly, but did my best not to fall out of character. Truthfully, I wasn't really out of character. Those goals were admirable, actually. Knighthood would be great, fantastic even. Most of the other things I said were really just fluff, truth be told.

But really, that whole speech did sum up what would be a good starting goal for this world.

I would become a Lord.


"That was some speech." Hoster mumbled as his eyes continued to try and paralyze me.

The Lord of the Riverlands stood up from his seat and walked very patiently over to the doorway that led to his balcony. He motioned for me to follow him, and I obliged quickly. We both walked up to the stone railing that signified the barrier between us and falling to our deaths and laid a hand on it.

We stood there for a while, staring out over the Riverlands. At first I admired the view. Then my thoughts got to me. Why was I apologizing? Truthfully, I hadn't done anything to warrant it. I wasn't the one who challenged Brandon to a duel, that was the moron who inhabited the body for me.

I could have just taken off, and tried to make it on my own in the world. I could find a sword somehow, and begin to develop skills while trying to power level on the road. Perhaps I could even fall into a company of sellswords and begin to make a little money.

But why pass up such an opportunity?

This body was privileged as fuck. The Lord was fond of me, prior to my disgracing him. I was well on my way to becoming Edmure's steward in the future and that was with barely any ambition at all. I could have gotten in good with the court of the Riverlands, found a wife, and maybe even some land. That was all possible because of Petyr's good fortune in this life.

With me here… Well Hoster presented a grand opportunity. I would make myself invaluable to him, to Edmure, to everyone. Hoster had the resources to teach me how to fight in a controlled environment, because I had no doubt that I would have to become an excellent fighter. Hoster had a grand library to learn even more skills. Hoster had everything I needed to grow into this world properly.

I would try and get in good with the Lord. And when the opportunity arose to better my station… I would fucking take it.

"I think I will grant you leniency, Petyr." Hoster said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Truthfully, that scar on your chest will be there until you die and is plenty of punishment."

"Thank you my Lord." I replied as I should have.

"I will challenge you, however." He said, turning away from the view in front of us and to me. I looked back at him, patiently waiting for him to continue.

"You will join Edmure in his daily lessons with Desmond. I want to see if you have what it takes to become a knight as you claim." Hoster said, before turning abruptly and heading back inside to his desk. "You may go." He dismissed.

It took me a moment to react, as I was surprised that my speech had actually worked. Objectively, it was over the top and ridiculous. In reality, it was kind of just bad. I moved to the door, to find something else to do for the day. I had experimentation to do, with my newfound powers, and it's mechanics. But Hoster wasn't really done with me yet.

"Oh and Petyr. Should Desmond deem you inadequate, perhaps I will send you off to squire with some untalented knight, to die a meaningless death. Keep that in mind, would you?"

A/N: Boom!

I don't know anything about Gamer fics other than what I have read, so this is going to be a shitshow I can already tell. Let's fucking do it!

Warning before we go any further… This is not gonna be some Godlike Petyr. He will have struggles, of that there is no doubt.

Anyway, tell me what you think.