"I ought to be hale enough," Mercutio grumbles between kisses, "to carry a sweet bit o' nothing to bed!"

But she twines her fingers with Éowyn's, and tugs her over to the bed -- both of them on their feet. There, she catches Éowyn by the waist again, and in a movement more reminiscent of her usual grace, falls back onto the bed, pulling Éowyn down atop her. As soon as Éowyn lands, Mercutio's hands are busy gathering fistfuls of her skirts and pushing them out of the way, searching for the ties or loops of any undergarments.