Legolas had held his gaze with her own for quite some time, and he wasn't even aware that she was reaching a hand up to touch his cheek. He flinched a little bit once it came into contact with his fair skin; no one has ever touched him like this, apart from his mother and, mentioned from herself, he [b]was[/b] a bit sensitive to touch, extending the point where pure-blood Elves are a bit sensitive to touch, in nature. Fragile ones, like himself, were one of them, considering that he hasn't been touched like that for quite some time. When she touched his hand back in Gundabad, he was used to those kinds of things, but not ones that would reach his face. It was a touch only made by his mother; no one else. The memory was still there, but Yavanna seemed to remain by his side, ever since he brought it up. 

His feelings of coldness and warmth were battling within his heart, as he continued to look at her. Honestly, he didn't know what these feelings were about that were thriving within him, but as he reached up to take her hand upon his cheek, he let it stay there, closing his eyes in the process, having to savor in the moment of saving her life, while trying to figure out what this inner feeling was.