Title: Seven Fatal Flaws Author: devilinthedetails Characters: Siri Tachi; Obi-Wan Kenobi; Anakin Skywalker. Genre: Romance; Friendship; Drama. Timeline: Saga-PT. Summary: According to ancient Jedi teaching, there are Seven Fatal Flaws, and Obi-Wan makes Siri engage in them all. Author's Note: Written for OTP Challenge #21, which is to incorporate one or more of the seven deadly sins into the story. I have chosen to incorporate them all and weave a story around them all. Seven Fatal Flaws In ancient Jedi lore--teachings first recorded on crumbling parchments now carefully stored in climate-controlled cases in the Archives under the austere eyes of Madame Nu and now typed in pixels for any Jedi to view and study on their datapads--there were said to be Seven Fatal Flaws. Flaws that could rot a Jedi from within, corrupting a Jedi from a selfless servant of others to a selfish being devoted only to pursuing personal pleasure regardless of the cost to others. Tainting a noble figure of the Light into a vile monster of the Dark. Siri had been made to memorize the Seven Fatal Flaws when she was a youngling in the creche. She had been urged to meditate on them and to be wary of their danger. To be on guard for their insidious influence within herself. She knew they were wrong--that they could destroy her from within--and that she should be vigilant against them. Yet, somehow, they managed to slip through her defenses when she was with Obi-Wan. When she was with Obi-Wan, who was much more than just a friend or a rival to her, she found herself committing every Fatal Flaw forbidden and warned against in Jedi lore. Even more strangely, even though that kept happening to her when she was with him, even though he continually drew lapses from her that showed her weaknesses and unsuitability for Jedi life, she didn’t hate him. Couldn’t hate him. Although, oddly, hate wasn’t considered a Fatal Flaw according to timeless Jedi tradition. Neither for that matter was love. The Seven Fatal Flaws illuminated in Jedi teaching were pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth. And, she, Siri Tachi, had committed them all without, in her own estimation, falling to the Dark Side. Pride “I’m sorry,” she said, her words tasting as bitter as the black caf--unsweetened by milk or sugar--she had ordered from the greasy spoon Coruscanti diner where she and Obi-Wan had claimed a booth amid the early morning onslaught of breakfast seekers. Apologies did not come naturally to her, but he would be aware of that. Would recognize what she was forcing herself to choke out on her behalf. Had better acknowledge that if he didn’t want a mug of caf thrown in his face. “For all the times I was too proud to admit you were right.” “I’m sorry, too.” His tone was smug, and his blue gaze flashed with mischief, alerting her that he was about to say something irritating and far from gracious. “For all the times you were too proud to admit I was right.” “You pompous oaf.” Siri shook her head, managing to resist the temptation to hurl her hot caf at him. “That’s not how you accept an apology. You’re supposed to say you forgive me, and that you’re sorry for all the times you were too proud to admit that I was right. Apologies should be reciprocal so as not to be awkward.” “Oh, very well. I accept your apology, and I’m truly sorry for all the times I was too proud to admit you were right.” He arched an eyebrow across the table at her. “Was that good enough for you?” “Hmm.” Siri stroked her chin. “No, I think you should also apologize for forcing me to teach you some manners.” “Siri the Blunt teaching me manners?” Obi-Wan’s soft chuckle drew a crooked smile from Siri. “That’ll never happen.” “It just did,” she retorted, feeling as happy and alive as she only could when she was bantering with Obi-Wan or arguing some minor point with no real relevance to anyone with him. Just savoring their moment together sipping caf in one of a million Coruscanti diners. Greed “Is it greedy to want to be with one person for the rest of your life?” Siri asked Obi-Wan as they sat side-by-side, legs crossed in a Temple meditation chamber. He was her favorite person to meditate with, because he filled her with a special peace she could find with nobody else. To her, he was a light and a serenity among the Jedi. Unique among them. Not that she planned to build his pride by telling him that. Nor did she include in her question the fact that the person she wanted to be with for the rest of her life was him. Had been him since she was a teenager and would be him until the day she died. If he did understand that without her having to speak it, reading what was written in the secret diary of her heart and mind, she wasn’t too blame for that. Or so she told herself when shame and her conscience pricked at her for tempting him as she was tempted herself. Tempted to fall. Tempted to surrender to the Seven Fatal Flaws that could undo a Jedi. “It’s attachment.” Obi-Wan made a clearing noise deep within his throat. “Attachment is the shadow of greed, Yoda says. So in a way it must be greed to want that. To need that.” Something husky in his tone was an admission to her. A confession that he wanted and needed her to be in the rest of his life as much as she wanted and needed him to be in the rest of hers. “We’ll be friends for the rest of our lives.” She stretched out her hand to him. She could offer him friendship forever even if offering anything else was forbidden to her by uncompromising Jedi precepts. “Friends for the rest of our lives,” he echoed, taking her fingers and squeezing them between his. The gentle squeeze a promise as much as the whispered words. Lust Sometimes Siri wasn’t sure whether what she felt for Obi-Wan was selfless love. Love that was prohibited by Jedi stricture, but still a noble, light emotion in its own right. Or whether it was something darker. Something more selfish and tainted by her personal desires. Desires of her flesh and not her soul. Lust. The desire to hold him close, pressing his body against hers, and never have to let him go. The desire to silence him with a kiss whenever he teased her. The desire to gaze into his lake blue eyes and never have to look away--to be allowed to drown there forever or until time itself ended. Lust or love, she decided. It made no difference. Both were off limits and out of line for a Jedi, and she was a Jedi, however flawed, to her core.She might feel temptation, but she would never succumb to it. She was too strong and too proud to crumble like that. The Seven Fatal Flaws would not be able to claim her soul no matter how steadily they besieged it. Envy Sometimes Siri envied the couples she saw out and about, living their lives without being aware of how she watched them with jealousy burning in her heart and eyes. Curled around each other in diner booths, feeding each other forkfuls of one another’s food and sharing slurps of blue milk shakes from the same straws. Holding hands as they strode down Coruscant’s eternally bustling pedways to prove they were very much not alone in the universe or the hustle of the Republic’s capital that could swallow anyone. Stealing kisses on park benches. Picnicking on blankets spread out over what precious, rare green spaces the city planet had managed to conserve and provide for the use of its citizens and visitors from all the farflung planets of the galaxy. Bouncing babies on their hips or struggling to control rambunctious, ever-curious toddlers. Sometimes arguing with their children or with each other. Sometimes arguing over trivial things and sometimes not so trivial things. Either way, Siri found herself envying them. Envying their simple and not-so-simple pleasures. Their trivial and not-so-trivial arguments. Their time spent together. Their families being built and changing with every passing moment. Their loves and their lusts. Their attachments to each other. All things she and Obi-Wan would never share. Would never be allowed to share. Had chosen not to share, and maybe that awareness of the choice they both had made was the most painful part of her loss. The most inconsolable factor in her grief. For how dare she mourn what she had chosen to give up? What nobody but herself had forced her to give up. Gluttony “I must be a glutton for punishment.” Siri squinted down at the brown and distinctly unappetizing concoction Obi-Wan referred to as a stew, regretting her impulsive decision to accept his invitation to dine with him and Anakin. Anakin, wisely, wasn’t eating his stew, so much as he was shifting it around his bowl with his spoon. “Eating anything you cook.” “I’m one of the best cooks in the Temple,” Obi-Wan informed her lofilty, and she mentally translated that into him being capable of heating a variety of meals in the tetrawave. Usually without causing a fire in the tetrawave. Anakin gave a disbelieving snort at this that quickly turned into a cough when Obi-Wan glared at him. “You one of the best cooks in the Temple?” Siri laughed for herself and for Anakin and for the blush that rose on Obi-Wan’s cheeks. “That must be one of the worst lies ever told in Jedi history.” Wrath “I’ll have to die before you do,” Siri murmured to Obi-Wan one day as they floated on the placid surface of the Temple lake. Staring up at the dome of azure sky studded with pearl-white clouds that arched over their heads. A sky so perfect and tranquil that it could only be artificial. It’s very perfection a betrayal of its sheer unnaturalness. “Why?” Obi-Wan’s question rippled over the water to her. “You’re younger than me.” “Yes.” Siri somehow found it easy to speak of death--her own and his--in this peaceful place where time seemed to stop. “But if you died first, I would be swallowed by rage. I would want revenge on whoever or whatever killed you. I would want to destroy whatever or whoever had been the death of you. I would become a monster. A monster you’d never want me to be. So I must die first and you must let me die first. It’s the only way to prevent me from becoming the most terrible sort of monster. A Jedi twisted by wrath into a creature of blood and vengeance.” “How do you know I wouldn’t become such a monster if you died?” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked before he reached the last word. “Because that isn’t who you are.” Tears stabbed like lightsabers at Siri’s eyes. “You don’t have it in you to become a monster.” And that was why she loved him. Why she could never have let him leave the Jedi to be with her. Because he was a Jedi through and through. A Jedi in his loyal heart and unwavering soul. Being a Jedi defined him, and so he could never give into his wrath. Could never become a monster the way she feared she might if he died first. If she had to deal with the pain of losing him. Of knowing that he no longer drew breath anywhere in the universe. Sloth “I just want to lay here.” Siri sprawled on a soft mat meant to cushion falls in a training dojo. Normally she had endless energy and a relentless drive to push herself. To never stop working and training. Today, though, all she wanted was to lounge around and do nothing that even resembled productivity. She wanted to be lazy and was discovering a strangely exhilarating, selfish freedom in that. There was a liberty to be found in abandon that could never be present in productivity. “I don’t want to do anything else. I want to be lazy and just be, Obi-Wan.” “You’re such a sloth.” Obi-Wan nudged at her with his booted foot, urging her to get up so they could engage in a practice bout. That practice bout had been the ostensible reason they had come to this training dojo together, hadn’t it? “I take that as a compliment.” She tilted her head and stuck her tongue out at him, not caring how undignified the gesture was, because she wasn’t worried about being dignified today. She was focused only on being entirely lazy. On being a sloth like Obi-Wan said. “Sloths are a furry species of tree-dwellers inhabiting the rainforests of many worlds.” “I know what sloths are, Siri.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her. “Then you’ll know what a compliment you just gave me.” Siri grinned impishly up at Obi-Wan, spurred to taunt him further by his obvious exasperation. “They’re absolutely adorable animals.” “They’re also sluggards.” Obi-Wan shook his head in what seemed to be resigned despair at her unrepentant laziness. “Just like you.” Despite his chiding, dismissive remark, he lay down on the mat beside her, and they never got any lightsaber training done that morning.