It wasn't like he hadn't prepared himself for this day. After all, he'd known that they loved each other. He'd just always thought of it as a quick passion, real but fleeting. They weren't right for each other- Alanna would make a terrible Queen. She made a bad enough Noble.
But he'd watched them get married today. George sat quietly in his rooms above the Dancing Dove, and stared out the window. He had a drink before him- a stiff one, and the sharp scent wafted off of it in a wave that made his eyes water. It had to be the drink, because the King of Thieves never yet cried over a woman he couldn't have. The glass was still full, however. Somehow, he just didn't want it.
He knew Jon. Knew him well, in fact, astonishingly well for a pair of people at the opposite ends of the law. He knew that the love he felt for Alanna was real, just as he knew that she felt the same way. But he loved her too, had loved her first, and the fact that he was against Jon in this manner was almost as bad as knowing Alanna was married to someone else. Jon didn't know George loved Alanna, but she did. She'd come to deliver the invitation to their wedding herself.
She'd been so sad, when she'd drawn up Moonlight in the stable yard. Her face was smiling, but the dampness in her violet eyes betrayed her inner feelings. He'd hurried out to greet her, a frown on his face, and she had looked into his eyes and then looked away.
"I can't stay, George. I just brought something by for you." She'd held out a small bag, and he'd taken it from her.
"Is everything alright?" he gripped Moonlight's reigns to keep her from moving off. The horse was trained to not allow that, but she knew him too well and let him do it, though her ears did flick back to listen for any command Alanna might give.
"I hope so. I really do have to go; I just wanted to give this to you in person. There's no way I could forget my dear Cousin George. I want to be friends." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, reached forward and removed his hand from the reign. Then she and Moonlight were cantering away, and George went back inside, a sinking feeling in his chest even before he opened the bag. They were already friends; what could change that?
He'd gone too. He'd stood in the back with his hood drawn up. Alanna was beautiful. More than. Jon was handsome, and they were happy. Afterwards, he'd gone up and shook Jon's hand and looked him full in the face. Jon was his friend, and didn't deserve to have George's frustration vented on him. Jon had been concerned; George shouldn't be out in public around so many people who had good reason to want him dead. George had said he was leaving, and had left. On the way out, he'd passed Alanna, surrounded by a group of chattering, excited women. She'd smiled at him, surprise and pleasure and relief blossoming on her face, and it was enough to make his crooked heart twist in his chest.
He'd come home and gotten the drink which he didn't want to drink and settled himself in the chair. His mind was scattered as it had seldom been before. He'd always been able to draw a straight line between what he wanted and where he was before, but not this time. What he wanted was unattainable. Not just hard to get; the Kingship had been hard to get, and harder to keep. It was forever out of his grasp, by virtue of her not wanting him. She'd never cheat on him, and even if Alanna was willing to do that, George didn't just want her body. He'd had that already. He wanted her in a deeper way, he wanted to be her husband, the father of her children, her protector, her… everything. Her everything like she was his. But that couldn't happen, unless Jon died. George shied away from that thought with a shudder. He didn't want Jon dead anymore than he wanted Alanna married to someone else. Jon was his friend.
Part of his mind, the clearer part that so often controlled him in a fight or when he was out-thinking someone, pointed out that he'd been telling himself that Jon was his friend a lot recently. Why should he stress it so? Unless it really wasn't true anymore… He objected to that thought as well. After everything… They were friends even before the wedding, after all! Yes, before the wedding, when he thought of their love as a passion to soon burn out. Like he knew it was. He still saw that when he looked at them. They'd be very unhappy one day…
He didn't feel the same about them as he had before the wedding. When he thought of Jon, all he felt was hurt. Alanna was love wrapped in hurt. Suddenly, he understood about her sadness the day she'd given him the invitation. Some things couldn't be ignored, and no amount of friendship would heal the pain he felt.
George looked down, and drank his drink.