"Many a time," she replies cheerfully. Her fingers creep a little further, one sliding between the folds of Éowyan's cunt, and her palm settles on the mound, so that Éowyn's clit presses against it. Not too hard, yet -- for all that Éowyn is no delicate flower, and seems to know her own mind for pleasure, Mercutio wants to feel her out for a moment. As it were.

And she wants to take a moment to admire her, too. The look on Mercutio's face when Éowyn strips off her shift and sits above her, bare, is one of naked lust and no little delight. Mercutio disentangles her other hand from beneath Éowyn's petticoat and reaches up to palm one of her breasts, rolling the nipple under her thumb.