He sent Anakin as Padme's bodyguard to Naboo knowing full well that they were in love. He was offering to them, as if on a gold platter, this chance to be together. A chance to be happy, maybe, in a way that he knew he never could be.

The Jedi in Obi-Wan Kenobi, however, knew this was forbidden. That he shouldn't be an accomplice in such violations of the Jedi Code after years of hammering it into his apprentice's skull.

Perhaps he was escaping hypocrisy by saying nothing. Perhaps this was all selfish.

The more he thought about that spark he felt between them, the more he knew he had nothing to do with this. He was not a factor in this equation anymore. There was no equation of him and Padme.

But as he sat there alone in his quarters at the Jedi temple, he was in agony trying to balance himself. Now that his investigation was over, the battle on Geonosis behind him, he was at the mercy of the quiet and the thoughts that emerged.

He was on a cushioned chair, legs crossed in the traditional meditative pose, his utility belt off, his tunic loose. There was still a small pain radiating through him from the lightsaber wounds on his arm and thigh, put there by a Sith. A Sith. He needed to think about that.

Obi-Wan reached out through the Force, to guide his mind and thoughts to the real problem at hand. The Darkside was closing in on them, and no Jedi could track its source.

He would never be able to kiss her again.

No, he needed to be present. It was dangerous to think of the things that have been or could have been or would never be.

Like holding her in his arms.

Falling asleep beside her, waking up beside her.

Feeling her hands on his face.

Her nails on his back.

Her lips on his.

And if he were to see her again, yes he might still see her smile, hear her voice, be in her presence, and he knew it would hurt, but it could never kill him. A part of him wished it would….

The door to his quarters slid open, thrusting him out of the deep thoughts that he had allowed himself to drown in. A long shadow was cast across his floor, but it belonged to someone much smaller.

"Master Yoda…" he moved to rise, but was halted by the small green hand that raised to him. It was a simple gesture, but as effective as if Yoda had used the Force to keep him seated.

"Sit. Please." Yoda hobbled in slowly, leaning on his cane, and the door shut behind him. He stood in front of Obi-Wan, both hands propped on top of the stick as he looked up at him.

Obi-Wan didn't sense anything of concern, there was no urgency or danger. This could not have been about the Clone Army or Count Dooku. However, it was clear that the Jedi Master had a purpose here. So, Obi-Wan did as he had always done, and was silent but attentive.

Yoda stared at him—stared into him.

"Hmmm…" his voice graveled, a clawed finger coming to his chin. "As I thought. As I thought. I sense deep sadness in you, Young Kenobi."

Even still at his age, he was young compared to Master Yoda, and he knew he could not lie to his master's face. His chin dipped, his brow hard set.

"I am trying to gain control, Master. It is… Difficult."

Another chair from across the small, simple quarters, floated across the floor, scooting just a fraction of an inch over the floor to not drag. Yoda grabbed it and climbed into the seat, bringing himself closer to eye level with Obi-Wan, his cane across his small lap.

"You believe it is control you do not have, hm?"

He thought about it. "Not control then… But balance. I lack focus."

"Hard to focus, it is, when a heart is broken."

Obi-Wan didn't raise his eyes to his master. There was no need to. Yoda knew.

"In love, you are…. with Senator Padme Amidala."

It wasn't unusual for Jedi Masters to be so forward, so frank with exposing the most raw emotions of someone, especially their own. Often it was the only way to work through it. Obi-Wan managed a nod.

"Do not be ashamed, Obi-Wan. To many Jedi this has happened. Including your own Master Qui-Gon Jinn."

Obi-Wan had heard tales here and there about his Master's adventures, all the reasons big and small that kept him from becoming a council member.

"I will accept expulsion, if that is what must be done, Master Yoda."

"Expulsion, you say?" Yoda's rough vocals raised a little in a rare expression of surprise. "Hear anyone speak of expulsion, I did not."

That finally drew Obi-Wan's gaze to his master. "Some other form of discipline, then. I've made the wrong choice, Master, I must face it."

And Yoda smiled. Not obviously, but the lines around his mouth deepened, his eyes squinting a little. "Are you not facing it now, Obi-Wan? Is not this wallowing good enough punishment for you? Hm? The right choice, you have made. That is why suffering you are." He poked a small finger towards Obi-Wan for emphasis.

Hearing the words didn't stop the pain in his heart, but it lifted a weight off of him. And yet another thought emerged that dropped the weight back onto him so suddenly, it crushed into his very guts. Yoda sensed it.

"Concerned about your choice in sending your apprentice to Naboo, are you?"

Even after all these years, Obi-Wan was surprised at Yoda's intuitiveness. "Yes…"

Yoda nodded solemnly. "Right to be concerned, you are. Allowing your apprentice to do what you have denied yourself… Very concerning, indeed. But the wrong choice, I think not."

"How could it possibly be the right choice?"

"Your reasons behind the choice, tell me…" Yoda offered his full attention.

Obi-Wan was struck silent for a moment. He had never considered vocalizing any of this, bringing out loud the secrets he had been harboring all these years between him and Padme. But it was cathartic. It was necessary if there was any hope of being the Jedi that he was meant to be.

"I cannot bring myself to cause either of them the same pain that I am feeling now…" he said quietly. "Especially Anakin. He has suffered and has had so little joy to call his own. As his mentor, my abilities to balance him have been disadvantaged from the start. Being with her has made it easier for him to see the light of the Force. I sense it in him."

"And what of her suffering?"

"Life has made her far too wise to be beaten by it," he could answer without hesitation. "I never have to fear for her because I know she is strong enough without me—without anyone. I am certain she can rise from any pain, because I have seen her do it time and time again."

"Then believe, you do, that Skywalker is unstable…?"

"He has not had the benefit of a lifetime of your guidance, Master… And he is burdened with prophecy."

Yoda nodded. "And trust that prophecy we must, that he is the Chosen One. That balance he will bring. In time this love affair will pass. It must."

So Yoda, too, intended to let things run their course.

The older Jedi master slowly wriggled out of the chair and onto his feet, the chair floating back to its original place.

"Leave you to meditate, I will. Remember, Master Kenobi, to trust in the Force. Allow it to heal the wounds inside that you feel. Allow it to guide your thoughts outward, not inward. Think not that to love is wrong. Helped, it cannot be. Help, it sometimes can. But remain detached, you must. Letting go, the strength of every Jedi, is."

And Yoda left him alone again with those words that had been drilled into him since he was an infant. He was able to let go of Qui-Gon. He needed to let go of Anakin. He needed to let go of Padme.

He closed his eyes, opened himself to let the force in and envelope him. Finally he let it carry him into peace and tranquility. And there he stayed for nearly an hour, finding the balance of the universe inside of him. He had made the right choice in letting go of his bonds.

But there came suddenly the crack of a feeling—far from a fully formed thought or vision—just a mere sensation…

Padme would never be out of his life. And he would never truly let her go.