Chronicles of a Flower Child

Chapter One: Woman to Child

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There moved the multitudinous stars,
and colored birds and fishes moved.
There swam the sliding continents.
All time lay rolled in me, and sense,
and love that knew not its beloved.

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"Beautiful girl," A seagull cawed as he landed on the open windowsill of the beach cottage. His white and gray feathers ruffled and mussed slightly as he fidgeted his wings. "Precious child."

August Matthews, who had been talking to animals since she was five, didn't even jump at the impromptu visitor. She had learned long ago that animals had no guidelines for when it was proper to drop in or not. Whenever animals felt the need to talk they did so without really caring if she was busy or not.

Oh well, it all came with the territory.

"She's my daughter," August explained to the bird with a proud smile. Her dark brown eyes gazed lovingly down at the girl who squirmed within her bed.

"Precious child," The bird repeated, his beak still dripping with salty water and his pale, flat eyes watching August as she moved around the bedroom. "Child of the earth. Child born of nature."

"Yes, yes," August nodded at the bird. Birds were never the most interesting animals to talk to (nothing like cats or foxes) but they were a generally nice species. "She is very precious. She's only a few days old." She gave the bird a slight shrug. "Precious and young."

"Child born of nature," The seagull's feet clicked against the wood as he shifted. "Rain, sea, wind, dirt…" He continued listing as August pulled back her long brown hair. She'd let him continue, no need to interrupt if he was so content on complimenting her daughter. "Flowers!" The bird finally declared. "Child of the flowers."

August laughed at the irony. "A flower child, huh?" She grinned. "How fitting."

"Blessings upon her!" The birds' wings twitched and he squawked again. "Blessings upon her!"

"Thank you," August bowed her head at the old seagull. Her mother had taught her to respect nature and all animals.

The bird seemed to be waiting for something so August quickly moved to grab a bag of crackers on the dresser. She crumbled up a few in her hand before walking towards the window. Salty air filled her nose as she reached out her palm to the seagull. Outside she could hear the crashing of waves and the laughter of families down on the beach.

"Here you go," She offered as the bird ate his fill. Once done August pulled back her hand. "Not having good luck hunting fish today?" She teased the bird.

The bird ignored her, his flat eye again on the baby in the bed, draped in pink blankets and surrounded by new toys.

"Child of the earth!" Was the bird's last words before he took flight with the flutter of wings and feathers. August watched him go, her eyes following the creature until he was merely a speck of white against the crystal blue sky. Finally she sighed and turned back to the room.

"You've been deemed a hippie already," August told her daughter as she walked towards the bed. "Just like your mom." She winked down at the baby.

The baby girl's eyes were open and staring up at her mother. August carefully grabbed her and held her in the crook of her arm. The baby was light and plaint in her hands. August couldn't help but kiss the baby's cute nose. The little gift in her arms was a part of her now, an almost physical extension. She couldn't imagine ever being without the small little flower child in her arms.

August Blaze Matthews had always prided herself for her independence. She bent to no rules and was straight-forward with her words and feelings. She saw no point in holding back for propriety. She believed in right and wrong and good and evil. But mostly she believed in the grey middle where people normally stayed. She believed in peace and nature and the power of one voice.

Yes, in short, she was a 'hippie'. If you were into labels or whatever—which she wasn't.

But it wasn't really her fault. Really. Her mother had been a true hippie and she had taught her daughter well. August was constantly at rallies and protests during her childhood. She drank herbal tea instead of milk and she went braless far past the time that was socially acceptable. All thanks to her mother's constant influence.

Yes, August knew a bit too much about her dear mother. She knew her mom smoked the good stuff, protested the man, slept in fields, and partied at Woodstock. Hell, August Blaze Matthews was more than likely conceived at Woodstock.

But August was a far way from Woodstock now. Years had passed since her childhood of barefoot trips to Yellowstone and scarring visits to nudist colonies. She had been moved out of her mom's house for five years now and left to make her own mark in the world. She was a young woman on her own course.

A young, thriving woman who had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

"Layla…" August cooed down at the bundle in her arms. Ten fingers, ten toes. A small nose and rounded cheeks. Her baby was healthy and absolutely wonderful. "My gorgeous girl."

"Stop smiling at the baby like that," A voice broke through August's serene thoughts and she looked over her shoulder with a frown. "You'll scare the poor girl."

"Shut up!" August snapped irritably. "She's my daughter so I can smile at her if I want!"

"She's our daughter," The young man leaning against the doorframe corrected her as he gave her a saucy smile. August rolled her eyes at him, knowing he thought he was sexy. He was, unfortunately, but she'd die before letting him get a bigger ego. "And your smile is creepy."

"My smile is not creepy," August corrected him while turning her back in his direction. Once hidden from his view she defiantly smiled down at her daughter again.

Layla's little nose scrunched up as she blinked up at her mother. Her lips were unconsciously pulled into a small pout and her pale, smooth skin grew slightly flushed. August quickly stopped smiling, realizing she was indeed frightening her baby. Layla was only one week old and already August was wrapped around her little finger.

"Told you," A smooth voice taunted in August's ear. "You're scary."

"Hff," August narrowed her dark brown eyes at the young man. "I'll show you scary…"

His laugh filled the room as he gently pulled August back against his chest. He was only slightly taller than her so his lips could easily brush against the outside shell of her ear. He rocked them both gently as they stood, his eyes trained on the little girl in August's arms.

"She's going to have my hair," He decided as he looked at cinnamon locks that brushed the crown of the baby's head. Layla blinked up at him and then gave a toothless smile, seemingly happy with her father's statement.

"Your hair is darker than hers," August said softly. "Her hair is a lighter shade of red Mr. Arrogant."

Archer Williams grinned as he kissed August's cheek. She hated it when he did that so he tried to do it as often as he could. Besides, while she was holding a baby she couldn't swat at him like she normally did. "She already has your eyes, so don't be jealous."

August looked down at her daughter through thick lashes. Layla looked back up at her with chocolate brown eyes that mirrored her mothers. A surge of pride filled August as she gazed down at the identical set of orbs. Archer, Layla's father, had pretty blue eyes but August was unabashedly fond of her own brown irises.

"Do you think we could be good parents?" Archer asked her after a moment of comfortable silence. He was never a very serious person so his tense tone made August frown.

"It's a little too late to turn back now," August gave him a look as she moved to put Layla in her bassinette.

Archer was staring at her when she turned back around. His glowing blue eyes were almost narrowed with concentration and his head was tilted slightly. He was handsome (and quiet for once) and August found herself walking up and rubbing her hand around the slight stubble of his jaw.

"What're you thinking about?" She asked him with a teasing glare. "I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears. Don't hurt yourself."

"Ha," He said with an amused smile. His eyes held hers as he stepped closer. "I was just thinking…that maybe I should marry you."

"What?" August cringed at the panicky shrill hitch her voice had held.

"It's only right," He explained with a streak of determination he normally didn't show around her. He'd always babied her despite her protest that she was a strong woman and didn't need his sexist behavior, and so she wasn't used to him truly defying her. "I mean, we have a baby August!"

"I know that you idiot," August hit him on the shoulder. "And she's going to start crying if you don't shut up."

"Our daughter deserves two parents," He clenched his jaw and looked away from her. He hated being anything but joking and fun and charming.

"She has two parents," August crossed her arms. "Just because we're not married doesn't mean we're any less of the parents anyone else is."

Archer sighed. He had come from a pretty normal and conventional family. He had been raised with firm rules and tight morals and he had never truly left them behind. After meeting August his sophomore year at Sky High he finally tasted the freedom that had always eluded him. He loved her more than anything (except perhaps his new daughter) and he only wanted what was best for his new family.

"I just think you should marry me," Archer gave a lingering look over to the bassinette where his baby was slowly slipping into sleep. "Please." He added for good measure.

The please melted her a little. August closed her eyes and tried to regain her sense. Honestly, Archer could just be so normal sometimes. Well, as normal as a man with the power to control the dark could be. Most of the time she loved his normalness but she absolutely hated his tendency to conform.

"I don't want to get married," August told him stubbornly.

She was independent. She was a child of the earth. She could talk to animals and meditate and foretell horoscopes. Talk to animals! How could someone so free be confined by nuptials and a wedding ring? It was insane. He was insane. And barbaric and apparently homicidal if he thought she'd take this—

"Please," He said again, much like the repetitive seagull that had previously visited the room.

"We'll talk about it, okay?" August grumbled because although she bent to no one's rules, she found it rather hard to be mean to the man in front of her. He was good for her, she knew that. He was lighthearted and calming where she was stubborn and wild. She was kin to animals and he was every part of mankind.

"You do owe me," He smiled down at her and pressed a quick kiss to her waiting lips.

"Oh, do I?" She danced away from his arms, enjoying the way she could frustrate him with her aloof behavior.

"Of course," He caught her and spun her back to him. "You named my daughter Layla."

"There's nothing wrong with that name," August told him with narrowed eyes.

"It's an Eric Clapton song!" He laughed and kissed her sloppily on the cheek. She shuddered.

"Whatever," She frowned. "It's a pretty name."

"She's going to be a hippie," He tugged on her long brown hair where a few polished seashells and chrysanthemums were braided into the long strands. "Just like you."

August grinned broadly and let her eyes trail over to her sleeping daughter. A bundle of joy. A precious gift.

"She never had a chance," August agreed with a shrug.

The words of the seagull echoed in her head. Child of the earth. Child born of nature. Child of the flowers. And if a seagull could foretell that, then it must be true. Her daughter's aura sung of soft breezes, rippling water, cool rain, and fresh flowers. She was a daughter of mother earth.

"Layla," August murmured lovingly. "My flower child."

"Let's just hope she doesn't take to nudism like her grandmother," Archer's voice was slightly reproachful and teasing all at once.

August laughed as the sea breeze came floating in and filled the room, bringing in the smell of salt and sweet honeysuckle that lulled her daughter into peaceful dreams.

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You who were darkness warmed my flesh
where out of darkness rose the seed.
Then all a world I made in me;
all the world you hear and see…

[-Judith Wright-]

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This is the first part of my new story that will follow Layla throughout the course of her life. It will skip around a lot, touching on various events and memories. Some will be told in her point of view, others by the people surrounding her.

This story will take place before, during, and after the movie. It will be rated 'M' and eventually a strong Warren/Layla theme will be seen.

I just think Layla's life was probably more interesting than the movie ever had time to show and for a strong girl like her, her story deserves to be told.

Be patient though! The romance will come…

Tell me what you think (positively)!