Takes his aching body to his room for the night, where the tavern keeper has prepared a hot steaming bath for him.

With his heart pounding at the news that she is less than a day’s ride away, he throws his leather uniform jacket onto the bed, tugs at his filthy shirt, still warm with the sweat of two days riding as it clings to his salty torso. Pulls it over his head, letting it fall, limp to the floor.

Sits bare chested on the side of the bed as he heels off the first then second boot, kicking them across the floor.

Stands and with tired fingers slowly fumbles at each fastening…one,..two ..three…until the rough hewn breeches start to slip from his defined hips.Pushes the breeches down against his firm thighs they crush down to his feet. Stepping out, his firm muscular limbs ripple in the moonlit room.

Dragging his strong rugged body over to the bath he slowly sinks into the soothing waters. Submerging his head runs his fingers through his unruly hair and gasps for air on surfacing. Small trails of water trickle down through the protruding hairs on his very masculine chest, He leans back against the bath taking in the revitalising waters that eases his strapping form those marbled loins relax, and his rippling muscles cease to oscillate as the troubles of the the last few days are washed away.

He falls asleep.

(Taken from @Musketeer_Athos Story Line on Twitter 19th May 2014)

A man haunted by his past, living for today, longing for a future .

Tormented Soul