Twenty. He'd missed thirteen years of Bran's life. It had been his duty, as a father, to protect his children and yet he hadn't been able to save his son from the cruelty of Jamie Lannister. He hadn't been there for him and Ned was more determined now to be there for his son. "Twenty," he repeated, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I am quite looking forward to gathering your brothers together to have you all groomed properly." Maybe he was a bit more amused at the thought than he should have been, but he was proud of Bran. He'd aged quite well, still retaining some of that gentleness of his youth while developing his masculinity.
"I will find a way to allow you to move about freely at home, Bran," Ned promised him, moving his hands down to his lap so that he wouldn't be drawing attention to the contraption. He was distracted by saying much else at the mention of Summer.
Ned shook his head. "I have not seen any of the Direwolves," he replied, though that only reminded him of Sansa and Lady. He didn't want to think of that, so he focused on the opportunity in front of him. "You have grown older than your sister. We have much to speak of. Would you...like to sit by the Dogwood?" He would happily carry Bran outside, or anywhere else for that matter.