You were sick. Heimdall, of course, had left you to the maidens for them to nurse you back to health. He wasn't a fan of all the germs and snot. He was too refined for that. But anyways, he was your husband was he not? He'd reluctantly come to visit you, peeking his head in as a nurse scurried off to get you more cold water to apply to your forehead.

"I see you're still doing terribly." He scoffed and slipped into the room, keeping a safe distance. "Have the maidens been feeding you well? I'm not understanding why you are still sicker than a Grim in Fimbulwinter?"