Watching him was an experience in itself. You couldn’t help but stare when he delivered his lines. Each time flawlessly, with so much emotion you believed every word that came out of his mouth. Even when you weren’t supposed to be looking at him, you were. He was a human magnet, drawing attention wherever he went. You tried not to stare but what could you do. It was like trying to pull apart two magnets. You didn’t want to make the effort anyway.
You carefully studied him, tried to figure out how he became so immersed in his character, tried to understand what was going on in that head. You thought about the filming of the Midgewater Marshes and how he had lost himself in Aragorn that day. He sung of Beren and Luthien and you could hear the sadness in his voice, see the tears in his eyes. He wasn’t acting, he was Aragorn and he was scared and confused and upset that he and Arwen would be subjected to Beren and Luthien’s fate.
After Peter had yelled cut, he still sat on that rock, eyes glazed over. You asked him if he was okay and he just stared at you. Stared at you like he didn’t know who you were. He blinked and you saw the shift in his eyes. He looked at you then, really looked at you for the first time that afternoon. And you finally understood. He wasn’t acting. He never pretended to be someone else. He didn’t have to.