Jaenelle's father started her training young. "Tending is more than just dealing with the dead. Making sure folks rest easy is an easier task when you help them take care of business in life, you see? So Tend to the living, too."
A curious side-effect of social invisibility--after awhile, people act as if you truly didn't exist. If you're observant, and patient, you can thus learn a great deal about your neighbors, simply because they let their guards down around you. So she would go about the town, observing and listening, seeing where there was need--particularly the sort of needs that people might die with regrets about.
Sometimes it was simple--give a little nudge to the lad who clearly has a crush on a young lady wo he never feels regret, or make sure someone checks in on Widow Helmsly from time to time so she doesn't die feeling alone and abandoned. Sometimes it was trickier--making sure the noble's former captain of the guard (a good woman, if perhaps rough around the edges) was passing by the house of Thomas Creighton when Thomas was deep in the bottle and laying into his wife and kids with his crook, for instance. Captain Macron had reacted much as her father told Jaenelle she would, stepping in and making it clear to the man that such behavior was unacceptable.
Wooden sword in hand, Jaenelle complied with the one-eyed woman's command, going through the motions one after the other--parry, cut, parry, thrust. They'd been doing this for a few months, now, whenever Jaenelle could slip away across the bridge--the offer to train her had been made spontaneously, immediately following the incident with Creighton. "If yer gonna be stickin' your nose in other folks' business, lass, you need to make sure you can fend for yerself when they decide to return the favor."
Jaenelle had blushed, a bit--she was used to the villagers at least pretending not to notice her, so being caught red-handed tweaking things left her a bit off-balance.
Alice Macron had retired only a few years ago, and then only at the lord's insistence. It was clear the old soldier was bored--taking a cottage outside the Wall was just tempting fate, for one, but thus far she'd managed well enough. When she realized Jaenelle had manipulated her into dealing with Creighton, she'd told the girl brusquely to come along, and the first session had started that day.
Jaenelle found the physical exertion a bit tiring, but at the same time, it was something new to her, and the novelty was enough to keep her coming back. She had some degree of talent, and could now go through a full sequence without ending up flat on her back (usually). She decided to try a more direct approach on a subject she'd previously only brought up tangentially.
"Next month's my fifteenth birthday, you know. I was wondering--when do you think I might be able to get a real sword?"
Macron cracked a crafty smirk. "Been feelin' your oats, eh? Well, as it so happens, I've got a little shopping expedition of sorts, in mind. It even ties in with your other duties, so your pa can't be too objectionable about it."
Jaenelle blinked in surprise. "A... shopping trip that deals with Tending? Okay, you've lost me."
The old woman just gave her creaky laugh. "Oh, don't worry, lass, you'll see in good time. Now.... Again!"
Macron in her younger days: