Feet on the Queen's Mind (Daenerys x Sansa Foot Fetish)

War Room Distraction

"Do you mind if I put my legs on the table? Just right here, your battle map won't be tampered with." Sansa asked, leaning back in her seat, her red hair in a braid behind her head.

Daenerys lost all train of thought. The dead were coming, but that was now the second problem in her life. "Your legs? On the table?" She asked, glancing over at the beautiful Stark.

"Yes, of course if that's alright with you." Sansa wore her black gown, with black fur around her shoulders.

Daenerys didn't know what to say, everyone looked at her, Jon, Arya, all of them. She couldn't hide for long. If Sansa put her legs on the table, she would have been more distracted than she was now. What kind of shoes did she wear? She, for once, was unaware of the type of shoes one of the women in the same room was wearing. The thought made Dany both scared and excited. Dany wore her winter white fur coat with dragon sigils and chains all over.

"I don't have a problem with it. Do you?" Jon asked, and Dany looked her lover in the eye.

"No, no." She smiled, looking back at Sansa, "go ahead." Daenerys steadied herself on the table, pushing her toes into the soles of her boots, and took a deep breath. Sansa was right across from her and to the left. Hopefully her footwear didn't show any foot. Hopefully she didn't heelpop.

Sansa smiled slightly, "thank you." The way the words rolled off her tongue slightly turned the dragon queen on.

If Daenerys told you, right there, that she didn't completely want Sansa to put her feet on the table, she would be lying. Daenerys found Sansa incredibly attractive, and yes, she always looked to her feet, but Sansa never wore open toed shoes or heels. Always, to her demise, closed toed footwear.

Now Daenerys didn't want Sansa to put her feet on the table for one reason. She would undoubtedly get distracted and found out. Daenerys always stared at Missandei's feet at Mereen, she got to the point where she was about to ask the two if they could give each other massages, but Missandei, all of a sudden, changed footwear and thus Daenerys wasn't as distracted anymore.

Sansa leaned back further, and Daenerys leaned away from Sansa and looked back at the map as they resumed conversation. She wasn't into it anymore, though, out of her peripherals she saw Sansa put her legs up, she couldn't see the shoes, even though they were within arms reach of Daenerys.

Daenerys breathed deeply. Just a quick glance wouldn't hurt, would it?

She glanced, and her heart skipped a beat. Sansa wore black heels, all black. Her skin was showing all the way to her just under her knees. Daenerys quickly looked back at the map, as Jon fiddled with the stones that were representing her Unsullied troops.

Sansa, in heels? Daenerys lightly tapped her fingers along the table, attempting to distract herself.

Daenerys felt like Sansa was looking at her. "Daenerys, are you alright?" She whispered. She hadn't said, 'your grace," and hearing that voice say her name startled her.

"I'm fine." Daenerys said without looking at her.

"You're what?" Jon asked, once again everyone looking at their queen.

"What?" Daenerys asked, losing her train of thought.

"Dany, you alright?"

"I'm fine. Fine." She repeated, Jon nodded and they began talking again.

Daenerys' mind was playing against her. 'What if she took her heels off?', 'what if she's heelpopping?'.

Daenerys shifted the weight on her weight on her one foot. Her foot fetish caused her to always wear the same socks for at least a week, and the grey wool ones she wore were going on their third day. She only took them off to bathe herself, and even then she kept them in her boots, which she had been wearing everyday for three months.