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// Loyalty's Curse 
// Story: Tales of the Tutelary Spirits 
// by Whateverdudezb 
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	In a hamlet little village located between the mountains of Somewhere and the valleys of Wherever, ponies suffered greatly from two terrible, moving voices that plagued their little village with bombastic tones, haughty opinions, poisonous insults, and scathing arguments that pulled painfully against the ears of the local ponies. None of these burning weapons were intended for the residents of the quaint village though—no, they were only unnecessary casualties brought on by the unskilled use of such hazardous weaponry in the furious battle of words between the two terrible voices that fought in their village.

Since many ponies have explored throughout and beyond the lands of Equestria, and had yet to discover any disembodied voices that, at least, did not identify themselves as invisible ghosts meant that these two flaming voices had to belong to two very irritable ponies.

And they did.

One voice belonged to a pegasus stallion, who had been nicknamed Hammer by the local villagers due to being coated brown like the wooden handle of said tool, and for his tenacity to hammer in his opinions into any conversation. The other belonged to an earth pony mare, nicknamed Anvil for her iron-like coat and large build, along with her stubbornness against accepting any opinions that were not her own.

And they fought. Oh, how they fought and argued against each other with such a ferocity to quake and tremble the poor little village. Whatever brief tranquility that this village would ever manage to scrounge together would always eventually get shattered by Hammer's harsh outbursts and Anvil's ruthless retorts that echoed throughout the village streets.

It did not matter that both lived on opposite sides of the village, as all it would take to incite the flames were that one would notice the other's presence in a public area, make a too loud comment under their breath of how despicable the other was, and of course the other would hear and immediately make a scathing retort, and before long the voices were raised and everypony in the village knew.

So common were their fights that the local residents had started colloquially muttering under their breaths that 'the hammer was banging against the anvil again' in reference to such noisy disturbances, before flattening their ears against their heads so as to attempt to ignore them and try to continue on with their daily lives uninhibited. They did this because ignoring the raging arguments was their only option on how to deal with the infuriating duo, both had inherited one of two rival construction companies that had literally built the village from the ground up, and so both were wealthy and influential enough to pay off the mayor, the local sheriff, and anypony else that brought up silly phrases like 'disturbing the peace,' or 'causing a scene' to the two ponies.

Now everypony in the village knew that they fought because they hated each other, but nopony knew why they hated each other. Nopony remembered a time when Hammer and Anvil did not fight and argue with each other so ravenously, it had always been that way since the two have been there. Even Hammer and Anvil, when pressed, admitted that they did not remember when or where their hate for each other was born, only that they would say that they still hate the other, before listing off the most recently procured ear-bleeding discrepancies that one had for the other to any hapless pony that dared inquire them on such a topic.

So they fought. And they fought, and fought, and fought; raking the villagers' ears as they did so.

Until one day, their fighting went too far.

Or, to be more accurately put: became too loud.

For high in the sky, on one small cumulus that was surrounded by the thick noises of snoring, a rainbow hung limply from its side, and two cyan ears poked out from its top, which twitched irritably when the sound of shouting traveled across the high air.

In the middle of the village, Anvil and Hammer were having their most vile, insulting, and loudest argument that they had ever had before. So loud their voices screamed that ponies in the village and the surrounding area had their ears ringing so deafeningly that they couldn't even tell what Hammer and Anvil were arguing about.

They were pretty certain it was something to do with politics though.

As the local ponyfolk tried their best to endure the racketing tirades, they were suddenly caught off guard by a noise that they had not been expecting.

For on this bright and sunny day, the sound of a thunder's crack boomed out across the land.

The ponies looked up, over their village, to find that the sky's puffy clouds that had been a snowy white only a few seconds ago had inexplicably darkened and started coalescing together into one dark mass of a thunderstorm that swirled about over their hamlet. Nearby local pegasi that tried to approach and disperse the storm were quickly batted away by whips of lightning that struck out at any pony that neared it.

Unbelievably, but believable to the villagers who knew them, Hammer and Anvil did not notice this. They did not notice the storm's formation, its howling winds, its crackling thunder and lightning, nor did they notice that their coats had became soaked from the rain, so engrossed in their argument they were that such details completely passed them by.

It was only when the sun's beams of light suddenly covered them whole and a shiver of icy dread pierce up their spines did they finally stop their arguing to look up towards an opening in the thunderstorm clouds.

There, where the darkened clouds appeared to have been physically torn apart to let slip some of the sun's light, was a majestic mare with the blue sky as her coat and an iridescent rainbow as her flowing mane. On powerfully-large wings, she glided down toward the arguing duo, before stopping just above them at a distance where it was clearly obvious to see the scowl that marred her aesthetic features and how her eyes burned white with intense power and fury.

"WHAT THE HAY IS GOING ON DOWN HERE!?" she demanded, not in a shout, but simply in a tone made more booming than the thunderclouds above her by the deep, resonating power that rumbled irritably within her.

It was the Mare of Loyalty herself, rudely woken up from one of her many infamous naps in the sky by the loud clanging of Hammer and Anvil, which had traveled high into the air to directly pierce through her thick, reverberating dozing.

And she... was... vexed.

Of course, being abruptly wakened from a wonderful nap with an aggravating moss of insults and poisonous hate stuck in one's ears tended to do that to a pony, even to one as highly as her.

Flapping her great, powerful wings in the air, she cast her burning gaze over both Hammer and Anvil, "...Well!?" she asked expectantly.

For most ponies, being in the presence, and indeed the very cause, of a powerful, raging divine spirit would tend to make one quail in fear for their well being.

But both Anvil and Hammer remained completely calm before the spirit of loyalty. 

And why wouldn't they? After all, all they had to do was calmly explain to the Mare of Loyalty how this was obviously the other's fault.

As Hammer and Anvil opened their mouths to explain, Loyalty watched them. She watched as these grown ponies descended into snarling wolverines, as they jabbed hooves at each other and incited each other's names as if they were scornfully inscribing them on the burning gates of Tartarus. She watched them, and as she watched them, she grew annoyed, and as she grew annoyed, her thunderstorm around the village howled and raged harder as the duo's arguing continued.

Finally, she had had enough of their bombastically blown quibbling, and with a great slam of her hooves, she landed before them.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!" she eloquently put, "Sweet Celestia, you guys really know how to make the ears bleed, don't ya?"

Before they could begin their quarreling again, Loyalty ensnared them both in her enormous wings, with Hammer in her right and Anvil in her left.

"For the sake of mine and everypony else's eardrums, it's time you two learned to get along with each other," she informed them harshly. And as she said these words, she reached into her deep, oceanic pools of pegasus magic and allowed sparks of blue electricity to discharge from her enormous wings and into Hammer and Anvil, whose fur bristled and spines tingled at the sensation.

Releasing the two to crash into a pile on the ground, Loyalty gave them a look of contempt, "If the two of you will not leave each other well enough alone, then so be it. I've magnetically charged the both of you so that neither of you can leave each other's presence." She leaned her head down closer to them, and whispered pointedly, "And if you want my advice, I suggest you learn to shut up and buck up, 'cause that ain't gonna wear off anytime soon."

With a flare of her impressive wings, Loyalty then disappeared into a burst of rainbows, rocketing off into the sky and far into the distance, searching for a quieter area for a well-deserved nap.

After her leaving, Hammer and Anvil attempted to untangle themselves, which included much shouting, swearing, and an unnecessary amount of whacks to the head, only to discover that as quickly as they were able to separate themselves, they were just as quickly to be pulled back into each other by a powerful, magical force. True to Loyalty's words, Hammer and Anvil soon found themselves unable to leave each other's presence.

They soon fully realized the implications of their predicament and acted predictably.

They argued.

For three whole days they argued nonstop; shouting, screaming, yelling, shrieking and howling at each other. Both blamed the other for their predicament, and both held nothing back in their insults. Many times their arguing got violent, and stuck as they were, their brawls usually ended up with them rolling around on the ground as they fought.

For three whole days the village was plagued by the loudest and vilest shouting that they had ever heard coming from the two. Many villagers couldn't get any sleep, some went temporarily deaf at a time, and a scant few ponies actually started doubting Loyalty's wisdom in magnetically chaining up the two.

But on the morning of the fourth day, something unbelievable happened that shocked the local ponies.

Silence reigned.

In the middle of the village, Hammer and Anvil sat together on the ground quietly. They were dirty, grumpy, tired, and covered in bruises and scabs.

But most of all, they were burnt out.

In the past, when their heated arguments and fights had inevitably ended, they would separate and both go to their homes to relax and recharge, usually never seeing the other again for the day. 

But they couldn't do that now, and now they sat together in silence for the first time ever, unable to muster any motivation for insults and yelling.

Eventually, they both conceded that, as miserable as this situation was, they had to get on with their lives. They both had businesses to manage, housing to uphold, and many other tasks that needed their attending.

So, for the first time ever, they had had an agreement. 

Now due to their magnetic situation, they could no longer do any of these tasks separately, so they worked out a schedule together, which was another first. This schedule of theirs gave them an equal amount of time to manage both of their businesses, shop their favorite stalls, and allowed them to clean and sleep in each of their own houses every other day.

For weeks they were inseparable, but only literally they would testify. They still had their horrid shouting matches and the throwing of insults every now and then, so at best they only tolerated the situation, not each other. But their arguments did eventually grow sparser and sparser as time went on, if only because being inseparable to the source of their ire caused their arguments to last longer, and as a result became more headache inducing and more time consuming for the both of them.

So they had conceded to stop starting fights over insignificant little things and at every chance they could get.

Walking had at first been difficult for them, given that they could only at best walk around glued to each other's shoulders, but they had eventually learned to time their steps and get past it. Dealing with the natural functions of their bodies were both awkward and embarrassing, and they both vowed to stay silent over such things. But what was most awkward were the positions that they occasionally found themselves in, like how sometimes they would wake together in a despicably comforting embrace, or how sometimes their violent tussles would cause their magnetic attraction to pull them into very awkward positions. Positions that would usually make them cease their fighting, pull away from each other as much as possible with a blush, and keep silent for a good while.

And with such a loss of privacy between the two it was only inevitable before embarrassing and condemning secrets were revealed on both sides. From then on any fighting, especially those in public areas, ran the risk of both of their secrets being revealed to the masses.

So the fighting and the arguments eventually stopped as they put trust into each other that neither of them would reveal the other's personal secrets. And with no more fighting, begrudgingly civil conversations and eventually just regular civil conversations took their place.

Hammer and Anvil had learned to tolerate each other.

As months passed, the magnetic attraction between them weakened, their figurative chains were lengthened and they were able to finally have a modicum of distance between them now. But they had grown used to each others presence and found difficulty in sleeping without another warm body next to them, so they decided to continue sleeping next to each other in the same bed.

But just for a little while, and only until they no longer felt the need to.

Time went on, many months passed, and on one sudden day, Loyalty returned to the quiet little village. She was only passing through, on her way to some big finale sports event that she traditionally attended, when one of the villagers approached her on the street and asked her if she was going to remove the curse that she had cast on Hammer and Anvil.

Confused and only vaguely remembering doing such a thing, she looked out toward the two ponies that stared back at her with slight trepidation; toward the pegasus stallion and the earth pony mare, whose belly was swollen with foal.

With a completely straight face, the Mare of Loyalty only looked at them and asked, "What curse?" before continuing on her way as if this was nothing of importance.

And there ends the story of Hammer and Anvil, who learned that the curse of 'sticking together' was not actually a curse.

Unfortunately, for the poor ponies who lived in the village, they still suffered greatly from two loud voices that shouted at each other constantly, and the colloquial phrase of 'the hammer banging against the anvil' was still very much used, albeit with a very different meaning now.

Because Hammer and Anvil furnaced out many, many foals.

And they were not quiet about it.