1946, New York City, the Big Apple. She'd dreamed about the day she would get here, thoughts of being an of flashing lights and grand affairs pervaded every ideal perspective she could remember. As a small-town girl from Pennsylvania she idealized New York City, prayed for it. Every breath she took grew tighter in her chest with the yearning ache to get out, and make her fantasies a reality. Her mother always told her to get her head out of the clouds, her father on the other hand; with what money he could spare he would take her to the pictures, bring her newspapers with scandalous headlines, he told her that if she worked hard she would get there one day. But one day was not soon enough for Sansa Stark.

Days after her 15th birthday she snuck onto a train bound for the City. She left separate notes, one for her mother explaining her desire to mend their broken relationship one day, one to her father thanking him and promising to bring him to live with her one day, and one to her siblings telling them of her love for them. With only a simple suitcase and $20 in her pocket she made her way through the bustling sidewalks, frightened at first, but as the days passed and melted into weeks eventually the crowds no longer scared her. And as the glamour of the city began to wane so did Sansa's money, the small odd jobs she'd been able to find barely putting food in her stomach at the end of each day.

Finally she got a job in a diner; it was just down the street from a number of nightclubs, though from the outside they paraded as smoking lounges. Alcohol flowed freely at night, and as the drinks poured so did the money from pockets of the rich and famous patrons. Sansa would watch them hailing taxis, laughing wildly as if they hadn't a care in the world, envying the beautiful women with painted faces and perfectly pinned hair in silk dresses. In her itchy blue cotton uniform, she felt drab and degraded at first. Now she simply sighs as they pass, occasionally coming in for a late night cup of coffee or even simple meal before partaking in the pleasures of the district.

Two years have come and pass, at 17 approaching 18 quickly Sansa is no longer the wide-eyed simpleton she'd came to the city as. Working and fighting for every scrap of food, every piece of clothing on her back, the small but secure apartment she resides in. The comfort of the diner is slight, but she works alone at night save for the cook Loras, his conversation is pleasant and he is one of the few men to not make advances on her.

Friendless, struggling to survive, and still the spark remains in Sansa's heart. Each night she would look at herself in the mirror above her vanity, no longer did she see a gangly girl with baby face and unkempt features. She grew relatively tall for a woman, but still willowy thin with the barest hint of a bosom and curve in her hips. Her face sharpened around her large ocean blue eyes and full lips, jaw squaring slightly and leading to auburn hair that fell to the center of her back in soft pin waves. The fashion magazines urged her to cut it into a bob, but Sansa couldn't part with the reminder of her mother she found in her hair. So she let it grow, cutting it only when it became unmanageable, though she did style it in the current fashion. Her skin was pale and void of marks. Sansa knew she was pretty, she could see it in the way men would eye her as she walked the streets. She heard it in their remarks as they pinched and prodded her late nights in the diner.

This night was like no other. Her block walk from the apartment to the diner was riddled with lechery from both men and women alike. Some selling goods, some trying to draw companionship, some selling themselves; she was able to arrive safely and simply gave a soft smile to Loras as she hung her simple shawl in the back before smoothing a hand over her skirt, pulling at the hem that fell just above her knee.

"Slow night?" She asked when she noted the empty restaurant.

"The Lannister's are opening a new club, I'm sure we'll have a few people before the night is out."

A curt nod and then she turned to begin making fresh coffee, more for herself than would be customers.

I'm feelin' mighty lonesome
Haven't slept a wink
I walk the floor and watch the door
And between I drink
Black coffee
Love's a hand-me-down brew
I'll never know a Sunday
In this weekday room

Loras just smiles softly as Sansa looses herself in the soft song that begins to emanate from within her. The Lannister's were a very well off family, old money that grew more abundant with connections and speakeasies in the 20s; connections that still stood and kept their dirty dealings under wraps as the rest of the world envied their luxurious life.

I'm talkin' to the shadow
One o'clock 'til four
And Lord, how slow the moments go
And all I do is pour
Black coffee
Since the blues caught my eye
I'm hangin' out on Monday
My Sunday dreams to dry

She closes her eyes and instead of the dingy diner Sansa is surrounded by brightly lit lights, a black grand piano plays behind her as she sways to the music in front of candle-lit tables. The stage she's on is surrounded by lush curtains, and she can taste the liquor in the air as she sings.

Now man was born to go a lovin'
But was a woman born to weep and fret
And stay at home and tend her oven
And drown her past regrets
In coffee and cigarettes

So lost in her thoughts Sansa doesn't hear the door open, she doesn't see the 4 men who've come in and sat themselves at the counter. They're transfixed by her, the tight uniform hugging her and sliding ever so slightly up as she sways to the rhythms of piano and muted trumpet in her head. They can only see her back, the long red hued hair cascading down to graze the top of her plump bottom as she leans her head back.

I'm moonin' all the mornin'
Moanin' all the night
And in between it's nicotine
And not much heart to fight
Black coffee
Feelin' low as the ground
It's drivin' me crazy
This waitin' for my baby
To maybe come around
Come around

As the last note slips past her lips clapping erupts from behind her and Sansa jumps, turning wildly dropping the pot of old coffee she was intending to dispose of. The glass shatters on the floor but she barely notices as she stares at the men in front of her. Crisp black suits with varying undershirts and ties to match. Three of the men are sitting and one is lingering in the back near the door. Her eyes sweep over the one by the door, a titan of a man, his broad back it to her staring out the glass as if watching for someone. His hair falls to his neck in tousled waves and when he turns Sansa gasps in surprise as the right side of his face comes into view. It's horribly disfigured, burns marring from mid-cheek slightly over his eye which seems functional and into his hairline. The snarl on his face is accompanied by dark eyes narrowing at her for her outburst.

"Dog…turn away; you're scaring the poor girl!" Light laughter accompanies the voice that's called out.

Lowering her eyes Sansa sees the laughter pealing from a young beautiful man. Blonde hair coiffed and oiled to perfection, green eyes sparkling as shakes at his own joke. The men flanking him fade away and all Sansa can see is him.

"Forgive me Love…my name is Joffrey Lannister."

Her eyes widen suddenly at his name, she drops her head as if shamed to be in the presence of such nobility in comparison to her position, "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Lannister."

"What's your name?"

"Sansa…Stark. Sansa Stark."

"Well Sansa, the pleasure is all mine…." A small smirk plays at his lips as he watches a blush spread across the porcelain skin of her cheek.

"I want you to come sing for me, at my club I mean."

"Wh—what?" The sudden bluntness of him doesn't seem like an offer or a request, it's more a command.

"We've recently opened a new club, my mother and I; we're looking for a singer and well…you are a singer aren't you?"

Another blush caresses her face, "Well…yes, but…"

"Well then it's settled…isn't it? The Lion Lounge, be there at 4, my staff will dress you and prepare you."

Joffrey spoke to her as they measured her, slid her into outfit after outfit trying to find the perfect costume to present her in. His mother was allowing him management of their families newest business as a 21st birthday present and with his charms he weaved a delightful web for her. Sansa clung to his every word as they did her hair, as they rouged her cheeks and lips. The beauty him enticing her as he gently held her face and told her she was beautiful.

They put her in the finest black silk dress she'd ever seen, the tight sheath flowed to a beautiful full hem with boatneck collar that gathered just above her breasts which were pushed and trussed out for the world with the help of a well cinched corset. Her back was bared for the world as her hair was curled and pinned over her slim right shoulder.

She sang what they gave her, pouring her heart into the words as she spoke them. Cersei Lannister, the matriarch of the family fortune, watched her. Green eyes the same emerald hue as Joffrey's appraised her, broke her down and took her performance in, golden hair pinned in a bun with finger-waved bangs gave her the illusion of a halo. The thick fur wrap around her shoulders softly nuzzled against her face. Her lips pulled into a wicked grin as she watched the girl.

"She'll do nicely Joffrey, how old did you say she was?"

"17, though she says it will soon be her 18th birthday."

"A pretty young thing like that will surely draw in the masses, well done son; just try to make sure this one stays around a bit longer than Margery?"

"I will mother…Sansa isn't going anywhere."

With promises of the grandeur she longed for Sansa signed a contract. Two years, Joffrey was to be her manager, and for two years she would sing for them. The young man's charm was overwhelming, the way he would gently run his fingers over her bared arms, placing tender kisses upon her cheeks. Memories of the heroic and handsome men from the romantic pictures her father took her to pervading. Joffrey was going to be her knight in shining armor; he would be her handsome prince saving her from the perils of an ordinary life.

And that was how it started. That was how Sansa Stark came to be in the middle of the Lion's Den.