Ivy didn't say a word as she led their small party down the hall and to their quarters. She hadn't really heard what Ludd had said (or what Jötz was saying now), but she managed to find the somewhat antiquated room anyway, as if her feet had already known the way. And the truly upsetting part, of course, was that they might have. 

Still quietly oblivious, Ivy walked into her room, straight to the desk, pulled out the chair and sat, only to hop back up a second later, her arms (or what remained of them) wrapped around her middle, her fingers chafing at the gooseflesh there. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, but she couldn't make herself stoping shivering, and the whole time, Ludd's last words kept playing in her mind: [i]I swear it on the name of Agnes St. Mayhew[/i]. 

Muttering, Ivy began to pace even as Jötz sat to reload his weapon. It wasn't until he said "gut likeness" that she remembered him, looking over sharply her expression that of a sleepwalker who'd just been rudely woken.

"We're not killing him," she snapped distractedly. She stopped pacing to face him, though she was still rubbing her arms and hadn't actually [i]looked[/i] at him yet. "He...he has stuff we need. Books and...and stuff." [i]Answers,[/i] she thought, but she didn't say it. 

It was then she caught sight of the portrait Jötz mentioned and, frowning, moved toward it until she was standing just before the desk again. She took a breath and made herself stop shaking for just long enough to take the picture frame up without sending it crashing to the floor. Immediately, she could see what the Jaeger meant. The picture was not of her, she knew that. It was far too old, the landscape in the background -- a field of stars behind a moon that seemed too close; billowing sails to either side -- was nothing she'd ever seen before. But she could see the likeness, too. Unruly midnight curls, wide-set green eyes. Freckles on high cheeks bones, and an expression that said "I'm only still here because I love you and I'm daydreaming anyway". 

It was at once haunting and wonderful.

"We're not killing him," Ivy said again, calmer now as she set down the picture and turned back to Jötz, her eyes alight with the beginning of a manic grin. "We need him. [i]I[/i] need him." She paused, considered, then shrugged. "That picture isn't me. I think it's...my grandmother. My great-great-great-great grandmother. Give or take a couple greats."