Among the vast, lonely temple where each and every resident was stranded onto their own emotional island, Vanora had thought Obi-Wan was a knight in shining armor. Her knight in shining armor, swooping onto her island to save her from the prison that was isolation.

It seemed as though she was right at first. Things between them started beautifully. For the time it lasted, they were just two young fools so deeply in love, making their own secret rebellion against the system that worked tirelessly to oppress feelings, wonderful feelings like these. They could always go to each other for a talk, a vent, an escape from everything around them. For that time, that wonderful, fleeting time, the two of them were always willing to rebel for each other.

But then Obi-Wan changed. It wasn't the good kind. It was the kind that turned his demeanor rigid, his advice strict, his blue eyes to ice, his words to echoes of the Jedi Code. Who Vanora could once go to for comfort, would now only belittle her for letting the issue get to her so much. Who once rebelled against the system for love, now preached and abided by the system's every rule.

There was one in particular Vanora could never bring herself to agree with: do not show emotions, let alone let them get the best of you.

How could she abide by a code so cruel and repressive, especially when she was the kind of person to always let her emotions get the best of her? Every time she failed to break a rule, a million voices around her told her she was doing wrong, that she could do better next time. By keeping perfectly calm and still. She knew she couldn't keep her cool for nearly as long as they demanded.

Showing emotion in front of any of these self-proclaimed Masters got her punished, Vanora learned. She did the only thing she could, the only advice Obi-Wan offered that she could take, to hide everything at least when the others were around.

How many times did she want to cry, but barely held her tears back? How many times did she want to hit something, but kept her shaking hand in a fist? How many times did she want to speak up, to scream, but forced her mouth shut? How many times had she come so close to losing it right on the spot after bottling so much up?

Too many times to count for all of those.

Not to mention personal attachments were forbidden, love and affection were forbidden. How could the Jedi claim to have compassion yet prevent its members from having anyone dear to their hearts? It was the reason Obi-Wan and Vanora had to keep their relationship a secret this whole time.

None of this was healthy, she couldn't keep living like this.

She knew she could always leave the Jedi, but they never let her forget what that would lead to. To losing practically the only family she ever had or at least remembered. She would be left with nothing. She had to stay here or else.

Which meant staying with Obi-Wan.

Vanora could hardly call their relationship a relationship anymore, now that the Jedi Code had pressured Obi-Wan into ignoring her and never making time for her even when he made a promise. She couldn't remember the last time something he said to her made her blush and giggle. It was all emptiness, empty promises, empty hearts, an empty bond.

Yet Vanora still didn't insist on letting go. A part of her still longed for the Obi-Wan she had first fallen in love with, that part held onto some hope that there could be a way to bring that Obi-Wan back. That Obi-Wan who understood Vanora and her cravings for affection and freedom, and loved her for who she was. Who didn't try and force her to become someone she wasn't.

The best she could do was try. She needed to reach out to him, she needed to talk with him.

A chance presented itself as Vanora caught up with Obi-Wan taking a stroll alone through the hallways of the Jedi Temple. She huffed out a final nervous breath, then opened her mouth.

"Obi." Her old nickname for him came out whinier than she intended.

Nevertheless, it was enough for Obi-Wan to turn around. Cold, calculating, contemplative as usual. A twinge of annoyance seemed to have worked its way into him, as though whatever train of thought he was in had been disturbed.

"What is it, Vanora?" Obi-Wan replied, more of a demand than a question. His tone hinted annoyance as well.

"I wanted to talk about us," Vanora was quick to get to her point.

No response from Obi-Wan, other than a careful nod as though to say, go on. What could possibly be bothering you this time?

"I miss the days when we would make time for each other, go on secret dates and adventures, discuss life and theories, and make each other laugh," the words flowed out the more Vanora looked back at. Soon she was free of the usual burden of thinking so much about what she was going to say. "And it doesn't feel like a relationship between us now without those moments. I miss those moments, I miss being with you. Could there be a way for you to try and make time for... just the two of us? Even to simply enjoy each other's company?"

Another moment of silence. Obi-Wan's gaze averted left ever so slightly. Vanora knew well by now he was taking his time to fish through his thoughts and pick out his every next word.

Finally, he turned back up to meet eyes with her. Drawing in a slow breath, he answered, "As wonderful as those times were, we cannot afford to go back to them. We must not let our emotions cloud our priorities, we cannot let old attachments get in the way of–"

"That's what you always say!" Vanora snapped, her voice already raised to a yell. "You know I can't live without attachments, Obi! You understood that when we got together, didn't you? Whatever's gotten into you since has made you forget that, hasn't it?"

Something in Obi-Wan's neutral, indifferent expression threatened to break, but he blinked back whatever memory came to mind.

"But to be a Jedi, you must let go of attachments," Obi-Wan dully explained, as though to a bratty, impatient child.

Vanora sometimes wondered whether Obi-Wan saw her as such. A child, a difficult one, ill-tempered and impulsive without knowing better.

"And we too must let go of those attachments, otherwise our judgment of what is most important, who is worth putting first will forever be clouded," continued Obi-Wan. His serious, matter-of-fact tone was all too familiar to Vanora, it became the tone she most often heard him speak in. And he still had no qualms to use it when giving one of his usual lectures about the Code.

With Obi-Wan's every word, Vanora clenched her teeth tighter, biting back a growing urge to launch herself at him, whether physically or verbally.

Instead, Vanora only let her voice reduce to a helpless whimper. "But what does that mean for us...?"

Obi-Wan let out a sigh. It was the kind he used in disappointing situations. "I believe we should keep our distance from one another, so we can each clear our heads about the situation, and rid ourselves of this attachment." The last word was spoken with a strange emphasis, something of a bitter venom, as though he were reluctant to say it at all.

It hit Vanora in the heart, right where it hurt. Was that all her years-long relationship with Obi-Wan was to him now? A pesky inconvenience in his life to be rid of? And because the Jedi Code dictated they feel that way about it?

Where was the Obi-Wan who would ignore the Code for her, for what they had together?

Vanora knew she should know. His every word, his every action pointed to one possibility. Gone. Gone for good. Dead in a ditch, thrown down by this strict, rigid, rule-obsessed Obi-Wan.

She couldn't stand talking to, being around this Obi-Wan any more.

Tears lined her eyes as she mustered up a final few words for him. Her words were shaky, her voice was soft but broken. "This is how our every talk goes, can't you put the Code aside for even one second?"

Before Obi-Wan could answer, Vanora turned on her heel and hurried away, the tears beginning to spill in full force. He wasn't worth any more of her time.