Clearing Up Misconceptions:

During all of the introductions so far, Sabine had been admiring the superb craftsmanship of the Mando male's beskar armour. There wasn't a speck of paint on it, which she'd almost never seen before, but the all silver look worked for him, even if it did make him dangerously shiny and reflective. Man must be awful confident in himself to gallivant around the galaxy like a walking target.

Or just very stupid.

The third option of rich and stupid was nixed based on the state of his weather-beaten and much abused cape. It was, once again, something that wasn't seen very often, since capes don't work well with jetpacks (that could explain the state of it) and could be liabilities in a fight.

Again, she could only come to the conclusion that Din Djarin was extremely confident in himself to wear such a thing.

And for some reason, it was also sexy as hell.

Weird. Never thought I'd be turned on by a set of shiny armour and a cape. I must be getting desperate.

If he looks even half as good as his armour does, I might just have to jump him just to shut up my stupid hormones.

Now, if only he'd take his helmet off.

At this point, especially when intros were being made, it would have been polite for him to do so, but she could also see how he would keep it on if he weren't comfortable with the situation. And standing in a room with a few dozen lightsabre wielding Jedi would definitely qualify for any legend-raised Mando.

I guess I'll just have to show him that taking off his helmet won't get him killed.

So the instant she could introduce herself without interjecting too rudely, Sabine did so.

She walked up to the intriguing man who stood nearly a head taller than her and had a body mass that looked solid without being overly bulky, taking off her helmet as she did so. She shook her hair out in an automatic gesture as she tucked her bucket under her left arm. She then stuck her hand out for clasping and smiled warmly at him. "I'm Sabine, by the way. Lady Sabine Wren of Clan Wren, House Vizsla."

He grasped her wrist in the warrior way with a strong grip that was tight enough to make her feel it through the vambrace, but not so tight as to damage anything, the way it should be. His blank visor stared down at her for a few seconds before he finally dropped her hand and said, "Uhhh, Din, but you already heard that."

Hoping that the pause and somewhat awkward response in his deep voice that made her stomach flutter meant that he was blown away by her makeup free and somewhat sweaty face, Sabine smiled wider. "Yeah. I did. But that's all right. I don't mind hearing it again."

Ezra, the nerf, snorted behind her, apparently amused by her blatant flirting. Like he can talk. He falls all over himself with corny lines whenever he's with his precious princess.

Since Din hadn't followed her example, Sabine tried a more obvious approach. She gestured widely at the people around her. "You can relax here with my family. I promise they don't bite."

His helmet followed the gesture of her arm and then returned to her face. He didn't say a word, so she tried again. "I know it might seem weird for a Mando to call a bunch of Jedi, clones, and other assorted beings family, but they are mine. Hera, over there…" she nodded at the Twi'lek off to the side of Din, "…and her Jedi mate took me in years ago when I needed help the most and the rest just sort of… happened."

This brought a wave of chuckles from the assembled as Hera said laughingly, "That's one way to put it, considering it's your hard-earned credits that built this house for all of us."

Sabine shrugged negligently, cheeks heating a bit. "My paintings make me way more credits than I could ever possibly need," she explained to the silent Din. "And my clan doesn't need them either, so it only seemed fitting."

His head tilted slightly. "You're an artist?"

Sabine narrowed her eyes at the vague hint of disdain that had crept into his tone along with curiosity.

"If her awesome armour that rivals rainbows for colour isn't a dead giveaway, then I don't know what is," Ezra said obliviously as he walked up and parked himself beside Sabine, nudging her playfully with an elbow.

She rolled her eyes at the man who'd somehow managed to grow up without actually growing up before looking back at Din. "What my di'kut vod'ika means is, yes, I am an artist, like my father. But…"

"But she's still a kickass Mando like her mother, Countess Wren, and her cousin, Mand'alor Kryze," Ezra interjected helpfully, maybe not as clueless as she'd thought. She smiled at him gratefully for sticking up for her and he grinned back.

"I've fought beside all three," Rex added. "And Sabine is more than worthy of either of the titles she is first in line to inherit."

Silence reigned for a few more seconds as everyone looked to the silver clad warrior, waiting for his response to this.

It wasn't the awe they were expecting.

"If you're that shabla important, why in any of the hells did you take your helmet off!?" Din said loudly and almost angrily, gesturing at the bucket under her arm.

"What?!" This came as a chorus from nearly every person in the room, even Chopper and AP-5, but no one's voice was louder than Sabine's.

"What do you mean why did I take my helmet off?" she said stepping a fraction closer to Din and glaring up at him in confused anger. "I already told you my family is safe, and it's flat out rude to hide behind one's bucket in front of family."

"But that is not The Way!" Din sounded like he was yelling through gritted teeth.

"Not the way?" Sabine reared back a bit in startlement. "What way?"

"The Way!" he growled, leaning down and into her space. "How do you not know this?"

She shook her head at him helplessly. He sounded crazy, and yet… not. "Please, explain, because I follow the Resol'nare and have never heard of this… Way."

"You…" he stopped and huffed. "How could you have not have heard of The Way? And what the shab is the Resol'nare?"

"Uhhhhh," Ezra said softly from beside her, leaning over to whisper more or less in her ear. "Maybe he's not actually a Mandalorian?"

Wearing a sound enhancing helmet and being so close, of course Din heard Ezra. That visor turned to glare at the young man with a death wish. "Of course, I'm a Mandalorian, Jedi. I'd be more than happy to prove it and wipe the floor with you if you like."

Sabine snickered quietly as her hormones stood up and took notice again, singing something along the lines of, 'Dangerous. Me likey'.

Ezra backed up a step, shaking his head rapidly. "No. No. I'm good. Sabine and Rex do that often enough as is. And you definitely sound like a Mando now to me. Pardon me for interrupting your fascinating discussion." He gestured between Sabine and Din. "Please, continue."

Din made a sound that could definitely be called a growl before he turned his focus back on Sabine. "The Way of the Mandalore is what I was taught as a foundling when I was rescued by members of Death Watch during the Clone Wars."

"Death Watch!" Ahsoka exclaimed from behind her. Sabine turned her head to see the usually serene Togrutan looking all tense and with a hand hovering over her main lightsabre. From within the safety of her other arm, Wompie just looked curious, his big eyes swiveling between Ahsoka and Din.

Din, wisely, stayed calm as he looked over at Ahsoka. "You know of Death Watch?"

"I've had some unpleasant dealings with them, yes." She narrowed her sky blue eyes on Din. "Don't make me put you down the way I did many of those murderous curs."

"Hey!" Sabine protested. "My mother and cousins were part of Death Watch back then. They weren't all bad."

Ahsoka snorted. "I know that now, after living with them for months when I was a teenager before the Siege of Mandalore, but when I first met Bo, she smacked my ass and called me too skinny to be a useful betrothed for Lux."

"What?" Sabine gawked as Rex growled.

"You never told me that!"

"I didn't think it was something you needed to know at the time. I still had a thing for Lux back then and he defended me well enough."

Having actually met the handsome senator from Onderon once during a Rebellion meeting, Sabine could see how Ahsoka would find the Human man fascinating as a teenager. They'd definitely still been good friends years later.

Rex still didn't look impressed. In fact, he looked even less so as he undoubtedly recalled that Bonteri had occasionally been present during their past endeavours to save the galaxy. "I seriously doubt that," he grumbled.

"I also don't think think they were all that bad, but I was only a child when I was with them," Din said into the awkward silence that had descended as Ahsoka and Rex sort of glared at each other. "They did save my life along with many other foundlings, and I saw them battle the Separatist droids on my birth planet, so they could not have been as terrible as you say."

Ahsoka, thankfully, relaxed, and nodded once. "That is actually true. There were two factions of Death Watch in the end, one of which left the others and changed their name because they didn't condone the brutal ways of their leader, Pre Vizsla. Perhaps you were rescued by Bo-Katan's group, who is now the Mand'alor."

If Din was surprised by this, he didn't show it in his body language. "Perhaps. I never met the leader. I was dropped off by my rescuer in a ship with a bunch of other foundlings and taken to Mandalore, and they started teaching me how to fight and survive. Only a few months later, the siege happened and then suddenly the Empire took over and we were evacuated. Us foundlings were scattered amongst a few different tribes or clans. I ended up with a tribe led by Paz Vizsla – no idea if he's related to that Pre Vizsla, if you were wondering - that had moved to the underground of Nevarro and there they taught me The Way."

"And what is The Way?" Sabine asked, sooooo curious now. I'm betting one of the rules has something to do with helmets.

Din turned his focus down to her helmet for a second then looked back at her face pointedly. "The first thing I was taught was that we never take our helmets off in front of other living beings."

She blinked. "Ever?"

"Ever."

She blinked again. "Not even to, uhhhhh…" How do I put this with children present? "Engage in some close quarters combat with a like-minded partner?"

Din chuckled, along with all of the people old enough in the room to figure it out. (The sounds from the teenagers like Ahsoka's Padawan, Rowan Freemaker, were more like sniggers or gags than chuckles.) "Not even then." He paused, and his voice was just a shade huskier when he added, "But there are ways around the rule for those with the imagination to pull it off." (More chuckles, sniggers, or gags.)

Sabine's heart skipped a beat at that rumbling voice while her mind supplied the easy answers like blindfolds and pitch blackness. She had the sudden urge to fan herself but suppressed it. Swallowing hard, she said in a slightly strangled tone, "What happens if you do take off your helmet?"

"Then I can never put it back on again nor call myself a Mandalorian."

"Kriff, that's harsh!"

"Whoa," Ezra echoed her thoughts. "No wonder you freaked out when Sabine took off her bucket if that's what you were thinking."

"That is exactly what I was thinking," Din nodded. "I could not understand why a person would give up their privileged life as heir just to greet me."

Sabine rubbed her forehead, wincing. "I'm sorry for the confusion. But I'm really not in any danger of losing my position in my clan, trust me. All the Mandos that I know take their helmets off in front of others regularly. Keeping it on hasn't been a rule for thousands of years. I think your tribe, if they were a splinter group from Pre Vizla's side of Death Watch, must have decided to take his ideals of returning to the old ways and went even further."

"Hunh." Din grunted. "I'm starting to think I was taught by a lunatic or someone who had something to hide and didn't want to seem strange doing so."

"That is very likely," Sabine said sympathetically.

"Which one?"

"Either, but considering you said your leader was a Vizsla I've never heard of and I'm from House Vizsla, I'm guessing the later."

Din's shoulders sagged ever so slightly as he cursed foully in seven different languages under his breath so that the children couldn't hear him. (She was impressed with the variety.)

After wearing that helmet non-stop for who knows how many years, I don't blame him one bit. I'd be swearing up a storm too.

To help distract him, she asked gently, "Soooo, what else where you taught? Maybe some of it is actually the Resol'nare and you're not so far off the norm."

His helmet focused on her again, and Sabine could practically feel his intense gaze through the dark visor. A flush of heat sent tingles up and down her spine.

If he can do that to me with a helmet on, what could he possibly make me feel without it?