SANSA

They were all seated in the great room together, each absorbed in their own activity when Bran cleared his throat to get their attention. "Here," Bran said shyly. "I drew all of you."

There were several sheets of paper laid out on the table in front of him, along with his sketchbook, and an array of color pencils. Sansa gasped as she picked up one of the papers. "Bran, this is beautiful," she exclaimed.

Arya nodded her agreement. "It's not often that someone can beat me at something, but I have to admit that these are better than anything I could have drawn."

Sansa stared at the picture that Bran drew of their parents. It's so realistic, she marveled, as her fingers traced the beloved features in wonder. Father's kind grey eyes and Mother's proud blue ones full of the love that she always bore for her children stared back at her so familiar and yet so unreachable. Sansa gently placed the drawings back down and looked through the others.

Bran had also captured Robb well. Handsome and proud, his eyes full of kindness. Sansa sighed as she put down Robb's drawing and picked up one of Jon. It was also breathtakingly drawn, Jon's trademark solemn face and a fierce loyalty shining out of his proud eyes.

Next Sansa found herself holding a drawing with her own face and blue eyes staring up at her. There was a vibrant smile on her face and kindness shining out of her eyes, mixed with hopefulness and the smallest hint of shyness. Staring a while longer as warmth coursed through her, she finally placed the drawing down and picked up another.

Sansa smiled at Bran's capturing of Arya with her sly grin and eyes full of mischief, her ability to somehow still manage to maintain a look of innocence about her face (one she often wore even as she jumped out at an unsuspecting victim with a sneak attack that included a whack with her faithful Needle before scampering away and escaping retaliation).

And finally Rickon with his face full of mischief and the easy happiness of a toddler.

Bran had always been gifted when it came to drawing. Often spending hours sketching pictures of a raven with three eyes, enormous direwolves, creatures that were formed from winter itself, and a wall of ice that seemed to rise into the very sky. Father and Mother had been amazed at his endless imagination.

Clever at climbing and skilled at drawing, Bran had certainly been a special child.

Jon ruffled his hair. "You are skilled beyond anyone else. You will get far, I know it."

The days flew by in a blur of happiness and laughter, until it reached the night before the two younger Starks were scheduled to leave. Then the anxiety took over.

"Sansa," Arya whispered, the two had their arms wrapped tightly around each other, "I'm not going to leave tomorrow. I'll throw a fit if they try to make me. I'll run..." Arya's voice trailed off, giving way to sniffles and they held each other tighter.

And so the next morning began with chaos.

Uncle Benjen had tried to make Sansa go to her psychiatrist appointment while Bran and Arya were driven to the airport but Sansa had put her foot down, refusing to dress up as she sat on her bed in her bra and panties. Uncle Benjen could hardly force her out the front door in only her underclothes and he'd given up and slammed out of her room frustrated.

Arya had taken her hint and was refusing to come out of the shower. "I'm not going!" she yelled for everyone to hear. Uncle Benjen was torn between wanting her to stay and knowing that she legally needed to leave.

Sansa was smirking until a loud screech sounded from beyond her room door. She jumped up and ran out of the room.

Bran was howling as Uncle Benjen secured him into the wheelchair. Poor Bran couldn't put up as much resistance as the rest of them.

"Uncle Benjen, don't take him away!" she cried.

"SANSA, GO PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON!" he bellowed when he spotted her.

"You can fight the adoptions," Jon was fired up as he took in the commotion. "The adoption was based on Baelish's deceit and fraud. Legal rights awarded by falseness can always be fought."

Uncle Benjen seemed to be seriously contemplating Jon's remarks and hope began to unfurl inside of Sansa.

"That's true," their uncle finally said. "But at this moment they still legally need to return to their adopted family. We can't break rules by keeping them if we want a fair chance at winning."

Jon seemed more cheerful and willing to help round up the younger kids afterward. He knocked on Sansa's room door. "Arya!" he called.

The younger girl had finally left the bathroom and her screech could be heard loud and clear. "I'm not going! Tell them I love them and I will visit them often but I'm staying here with you guys!"

"Arya listen, we have a plan. Uncle Benjen is going to fight the adoption claims because they were based on lies told by Baelish. He fooled everyone and the court will take that into consideration," Jon assured her.

Arya finally cracked the door open a bit, her pale face slightly visible. "What did he lie about?" she asked.

"He lied about all of you guys being dead. That's why Uncle Benjen couldn't get custody of you. He lied about a lot more too. But if you want to help us win then you have to do your part and listen. If you don't get on your plane it will reflect poorly on us. Makes us look as if we're trying to sabotage your adopted family's rights. We can't win by starting off in violation of the law."

Arya sighed heavily but she seemed to be willing to listen as she closed the door, stepping back out fifteen minutes later dressed and ready to go. "I want breakfast," she declared.

Anna had arrived earlier to cook up a load of food which were laid out on the island table, preserved under aluminum foils.

"Bran's already eating, you can go join him," Uncle Benjen told Arya.

Sansa started to follow along but Uncle Benjen ordered her back to her room to put on proper clothes. She huffed as she entered her room, dressing speedily and running a brush through her hair before making her way to breakfast.

Quiet seemed to have been achieved if not peace. Arya was scowling and Bran's eyes were leaking, Uncle Benjen's brows was furrowed and Jon was staring darkly into his food. Joining them, Sansa piled her plate with food, her mind swirling furiously as she ate.

Too soon breakfast was over and Uncle Benjen was looking wary as he told Arya it was time to head downstairs. Arya looked as if she was debating whether to comply or make a run for it. She chose the latter, making a dash towards the gallery but Uncle Benjen caught her.

"I love them but I love you guys more!" Arya screeched. "I want to STAY!"

Uncle Benjen lifted the slight girl who was screaming and kicking. "Get Bran," he ordered Jon gruffly before turning to Sansa. "You're going to stay in the van to make sure that Arya doesn't jump out while Jon and I are getting their luggage."

It took teamwork and the doorman having to pitch in, but finally Arya was maneuvered through the door frame that she clung to, settled into the van, and successfully restrained by seat-belts.

Unfortunately she managed to deliver multiple painful kicks before this happened, and the doorman gave a pained smile before retreating back into the lobby, but his pocket was fatter from the cash that Uncle Benjen had paid him for his troubles.

Sansa followed Jon back upstairs to carry down the luggage since Uncle Benjen realized that he would have to be the one to keep an eye on Arya.

After what seemed like forever, they were finally all settled into the van and headed to the airport.

"I hate this day," Bran muttered.

Sansa fervently agreed.