Morgana adores flying, she thinks it's a side effect of being nigh on immortal and remembering when a horse and cart was the height of luxury. She travels by plane as often as she can, first class, of course. And she's not bothered by storms, turbulence or even the occasional times when the cabin crew have subtly inquired about the presence of a doctor.
But this time when, “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, is there a snake charmer on board?” comes over the tannoy, just before what Morgana could swear is a cobra slithers up the aisle, Morgana decides she's had enough.
She turns to her travelling companion, “This is you, isn't it?”
Nimueh smiles an enigmatic smile; she hasn't been quite right since the third time Merlin vaporised her.
“Snakes, Nimueh? On a plane? They could get into the...” Morgana trails off with a vague gesture; she loves flying, but some of the more technical details may have gone a bit over her head.
Morgana yelps as a python of amazonian proportions tries to make its way across her thighs. She upends the whole thing onto Nimueh's lap and says, “When we get to New York, I'm finding you a world class psychiatrist.”
She leaves Nimueh to make the acquaintance of her new pet and heads for the back of the plane. She meets Merlin coming the other way; from the economy section, she's pleased to note. He looks a bit green, which either means he's afraid of flying or he's already met the cobra.
Merlin's hand flies up, but Morgana grabs his wrist and clamps her hand over his mouth before he can finish the incantation. The last thing they need is Merlin frying the electronics or setting the wings on fire.
“Listen,” she says in her most reasonable voice, “lets get the snakes off the plane, and then we can all try to kill each other nice and safely on the ground.”