While the blades are pointed at him Anders braces, readying himself to fight. He'll have to surrender control if he's to survive this... and then the Templar stands down. It could still be a trick. Anders had seen how quickly the man moved to begin with. There's still danger and this man is a Templar. The only good Templar is a dead one. Except there had been a couple in Anders' experience who hadn't outright hated mages, just a few among the otherwise cruel oppressors who were delusional enough to think they were helping the situation.

He breathes out instead of attacking, but his staff isn't put back into its holster.

"I've met plenty who would." Anders' gaze flickers to the hills around them, toward where he'd found a mage body just hours ago, and all he could do was close her eyes. "And the Hinterlands hold proof of this when all so many of us seek is freedom." It's a challenge as much as a statement. He has no reason to trust any Templar, though at least this one has yet to use any barbed words, apostate, deserter, anything with an edge.