"Sweet Andraste's--" He doesn't finish that curse, but grips the templar's arm before he can go trailing blood off into the (startlingly) clean room laid out in front of them.

"Ser, I'm going to have to insist that you sit. I know very well the damage my arrows can do."

If he had to knock this man out to keep him from moving further then so be it. He doubted there was much he could do to defend himself at this point in time. Pulling the arrow out before proper help had arrived would only be another mistake to add to what had turned into an entirely undesirable early morning.

"I have sent for aid and should someone be nearby they will find us sooner. Unless you wish to bleed out the remainder of your life over this floor, sit down."