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Even though the mortals acknowledged Sheogorath as a daedric prince, the daedra themselves needed some convincing before accepting him as one of their own kind. In fact, those of the daedra who specialized in order, like Hermaeus Mora and Peryite, actually despised Sheogorath for his erratic and eccentric behavior. One day, the most refined of the daedra gathered in the library of Hermaeus Mora to discuss what should be done about this perplexing, immortal thing. In attendance were Azura, the daedra of day and night, who had created the very Star that made Sheogorath into what he was now (but he had forgotten that entirely), Hircine, the prince of the Hunt, Merida, the daedra of Life Energy, Peryite, the prince of pestilence and strict order, and of course Hermaeus Mora himself. They discussed ways to get rid of Sheogorath, or at least some way to control him. But they could not think of a way that had not been tried already. The mortals had tried everything from staking him in the heart to burying him alive, none of which had been effective in the slightest. And even the immortal Sithis had directed the Dark Brotherhood to decapitate Sheogorath, but that had only given the madman an opportunity to say he truly had lost his head while his body calmly picked it up and screwed it back in place.
The debate went on and on, when who should appear through a door but Sheogorath himself. The daedra stared hostilely at him, but he didn't seem fazed at all.
"You ever hear that saying that your nose itches when someone is talking about you?" he asked. "Well, my nose is itchin' like it'd been sucked dry by a swarm of flea-ridden mosquitoes carrying poison ivy! Can mosquitoes even have fleas, I wonder? Or if a mosquito sucks a creature's blood, could a flea suck that blood out of the mosquito? Would the mosquito have an itch afterward? And what if—"
"SILENCE!" Hermaeus Mora boomed. His voice seemed to come from everywhere because his very essence was contained in his library. Sheogorath smiled.
"As you wish." He waved his hand, and all of the daedra became deaf. They screamed and roared at the top of their immortal lungs, but they could hear nothing. They rose from their places and leapt toward Sheogorath, but he only held his ground and laughed as he pointed at each of the daedra. Hircine turned into a chicken, Merida became a cow. Peryite became a rat, and Azura turned into a bush. Hermaeus Mora was booming obscenities at Sheogorath, who only smiled placidly at the new forms of the daedra. After a while, Mora grew weary of shouting and stopped. Sheogorath appeared to wake from a daydream.
"Oh, I'm sorry—were you saying something?"
Mora spluttered in rage, but Sheogorath waved a hand and silenced even him. "Relax, your lordship. I'll be leaving shortly, and then everything will go back to the way it was. Just remember to mind your manners and not gossip about people behind their backs. It's extremely rude, you know."
And as abruptly as he appeared, he vanished. The daedra regained their previous forms and grudgingly came to a consensus. From that day on they reluctantly accepted that Sheogorath was indeed worthy of being considered a daedra, and have done their best to avoid him ever since.