Probably somewhere in the 12/14 year old range

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Odin's steps rang hollow on the tile floor. Merely an hour remained before the ceremony. Nearly all was made ready. He'd dressed. He knew what it was he would say. Only the last things were to be seen after, barring some disaster. The sun warmed the stone and glinted off his armor. A breeze fluttered the pennants above.

Around the corner, within the Feasting Hall, Odin could make out the distinct sounds of a scuffle. Grimly, he predicted what he was likely to see.

Wisdom was a thing his sons lacked.

Ire rising in his blood, Odin lengthened his step.

He turned the corner to see them grappling an arm's length from the laden tables, and only just in time to watch as Thor swept his brother's legs from beneath him. Loki tumbled backward, caught at the knees on the long bench beside the table, and fell over it and under the table, pulling a shower of golden plates and flatware and the non-perishable foodstuffs laid out for the feast down about his ears.

The crash was enough to send those who ought to have been present to prevent the disaster, scuttling from their places to stammer apologies and begin cleaning up.

Without a thought for the mess he'd made, Thor dove forward after his brother. Odin caught him by the back of his shirt and hauled him back.

"Fool of a boy!" Odin shouted, "have you any idea what mess you've made?"

Sparks flashed in Thor's blue eyes, "I will not be played for a fool and Loki –"

There was a further crash as Loki tried to extricate himself from the wreckage and dislodged a tray that came down on top of him.

A man came forward to help and Odin glared at him. The man drew back without a word.

The distraction had given Odin the clarity to draw back his temper. "Emissaries," he told Thor, "are coming to the Gladsheim tonight, and I would have them see my realm, my sons, and my feasting hall, at their best."

Thor opened his mouth to say something and Odin gave him a firm shake.

"Your honor," he said, coolly when Thor was quiet, "Would be better upheld by your good behavior and appearance this night. Change your shirt. This one you tore."

He released Thor's tunic and the boy stepped backward. His eyes flashed murderously, "Father –"

"Enough!" Odin shouted.

Thor stopped.

"We will speak of this after the feast, and not before. Ready yourself and do what you can to make good the damage you've already caused."

Setting his mouth sullenly Thor flung about and left.

Loki was sprawled with his knees caught against the bench, and the tableside, completely inadequate to extricate himself from his position.

A bowl that stood precariously on the edge of the table, trembled, then fell to the floor with a resounding clang and the bounce of golden fruit.

And Loki began to laugh.

Swallowing a sigh, Odin shook his head. "Get up, Boy,"

Unable to stop laughing, Loki tried to push himself up but his hand slipped and as he smacked his head against the tableside the laughter choked in his throat.

Odin extended a hand.

Loki opened his eyes and blinked at the hand a little startledly before realizing what it was for and meeting it with his own so Odin could draw him clear.

A bruise was forming to the left of his eye, but he seemed hale, if sullied, beyond that.

"Nothing worse than the eye?"

Gingerly, the boy touched the spot with his fingertips, "I don't think so,"

"Foolish children," Odin breathed. "Could you not have chosen a day of less import? Or perhaps – in the least – a different room?"

Loki looked down, catching his lip in his teeth. But Odin had seen how much he wanted to laugh.

Ignoring that, because he ought yet be angry, Odin took his shoulder and turned him to the door, "Go the Healers. See if Eir has a thing that might do away with the bruise before tonight. I would have my sons present their best face. Not their most common."

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If you really like things chronological, and you've been reading all these updates with those of 'A Little More' as I published them, then chapters 12 and 13 of 'In the End' should come next.